#it’s like. 8:15pm and I’m thinking of just going to bed now

[identitty-dickruption]

one of the worst things in the world is that feeling unloveable can (and will) make you act in ways that reinforces itself. I feel unloveable so I don’t respond to messages so people reach out less so I feel unloveable. one of the hardest things in the world is fighting back the brain demons long enough to break the cycle

[user9298274001127482]

Are you gonna break up with me?

pairing: bf!matt x gf!reader

warnings: slight angst, resolved ending, fluff

a/n: reader is also youtuber/influencer like matt

a one-shot where matt and y/n have been together almost 4 yrs and he starts cancelling plans with her a lot….

7:00pm

You were at your apartment sitting on your bed watching modern family on the TV. Your boyfriend was coming over to stay the night after what felt like months, he said he would be over around 7 but you just assumed he might be running late.

You were glad that he finally could hangout with you today since he had been cancelling plans so often recently and you hadn’t seen him in 2 weeks which doesn’t seem like much but you and Matt would usually hangout like 4 or 5 times a week.

8:15pm

You were so caught up in watching TV you didn’t even realise what time it was. It had been over an hour since Matt was meant to be here so you decide to send him a text.

Matt ❤️

| Hi baby is everything okay? Why aren’t you here yet?

| seen 8:21pm

He had left you on seen, these past few weeks you have been suspicious of him avoiding u and suddenly being so busy but you and Matt had been together for nearly 4 years. He would never cheat on you or do anything to hurt you.

Or would he? Why did he leave you on seen? Does he want to breakup?

9:30pm

Part of you had still hoped that miraculously he would walk through your bedroom door and give you a perfectly honest explanation as to why he was late and then everything would go back to normal.

But part of you also knew that there must be a reason why he is avoiding you, although you weren’t sure what it was, you weren’t gonna spend all night waiting for him in case he decides to show up.

You sadly start getting ready for bed, putting on your pajamas and brushing your teeth. You stay up watching TV for a few hours.

11:45pm

You hear footsteps and turn your head to the bedroom door and see Matt standing there, the most neutral look on his face, you couldn’t make out whether he was angry, felt guilty or if he just didn’t care.

You stand up as he steps into the room, still not speaking a word he attempts to pull you into a hug. You dodge his hug because how could he act like everything was okay? “Where have you been?” You raise your voice.

“I just got caught up in some stuff” He shrugs using the same excuse he used everytime he cancelled. “What stuff did you get caught up in, Matt? I want answers I’m tired of you avoiding me” you slightly yell.

“Oh my fucking god, not everything is about you y/n, your not my only priority I have a life besides being with you 24/7” he yells while rolling his eyes. I have a life besides being with you his words cause tears to well up in your eyes.

“We haven’t seen eachother in weeks, you keep cancelling plans on me and not answering my calls, what’s going on Matt?” you quietly say with a shaky voice. He looks at you with sympathy in his eyes, a look that makes you think he’s going to apologise.

But instead he grits his teeth and says “It’s too much y/n, I feel like we need some space”. Tears well up in your eyes even more but you don’t let them fall because you don’t want Matt to see, “Are you gonna break up with me?” you say looking away from him because if you look into his eyes you’ll breakdown crying.

A pause of silence, you can see his sad face from the corner of your eyes before he yells again “I don’t fucking know what you want from me!”. Matt storms off, slamming your bedroom door in the process. The second he leaves the tears fall down ur face, your cheeks being drenched. You were always a quiet crier so you don’t worry about Matt hearing you on his way out.

12:00am

A few minutes later you start putting away the pile of clothes on your bed with tears still running down ur face. You get startled when your bedroom door aggressively opens, it’s Matt. He doesn’t look at you face but he comes in and touches you shoulder “Y/n I…” he pauses when seeing your tears dripping down ur face.

Now he looks as if he’s about to breakdown in tears from guilt of making his girlfriend cry. He pulls you into an unexpected hug, your chins rested on eachother shoulders. “Fuck I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to make you cry” he says with a shaky voice, although you couldn’t see his face you knew he was crying too. “What kind of boyfriend makes his girlfriend cry” he says.

You gently pull out of the hug and see tears rolling down his face now, you wipe your own tears. “Matt can we please just talk ……about us?” you softly say, he nods as you both sit on the edge of your bed facing eachother. “Be honest, why have you been avoiding me” you ask. “No, I- It’s stupid” he replies. “Please? I’d rather hear a stupid reason why than no explanation” you say.

He hesitates before speaking, “Okay well all my friends have been asking when I’ll propose to you since we’ve been together so long and I wasn’t planning to anytime soon and everyone told me you’d…”. With a confused look you ask “Everyone told you I’d what?” “They told me you’d break up with me if I didn’t propose soon and I thought they were right so I’ve been avoiding you cause I was scared of you leaving me” He shyly says.

“Oh matt, we’re both only 21 of course I’m not gonna break up with you if you don’t propose soon. We’re both not ready for that yet but I still wanna be with you until we are ready” you say in sadness that Matt thought you would leave him. “Yeah I realise that now, I was being a dick I’m so sorry y/n” he says with eyes glued to the floor. You lift his chin up so his eyes are meeting yours, “It’s okay I forgive you Matt but please don’t ever do that again I thought we were gonna be broken up” I say.

“I’ll make it up to you I promise, I’ll do anything you want” he genuinely says. “I just wanna watch modern family with you and cuddle and fall asleep in your arms and kiss you” you blabber. “Okay fine” he kisses you on the cheek.

12:15am

You both settle into your bed, your face buried in his neck with his arms tightly wrapped around ur back and waist. He occasionally gives you a kiss on the forehead whispering “I’m so sorry” to you as you lift ur head up and kiss his cheek every now and then.

1:00am

After a while you start getting tired and are half asleep, Matt thinks you’re fully asleep and doesn’t realise you can hear him. He keeps kissing your hand and whispering sweet things in your ear.

“I love you so much” “I’m so sorry” “I’m such a dick I know” “Your the best thing that’s ever happened to me” “I love you more than anything”.

[cuubism]

@magnusbae challenged me to write smut using professional email language, and i'm nothing if not a slut for abusing corporate jargon!

-----

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:32pm – Morpheus <morpheus @ dreaming.com> to Office (All):

Subject: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

I do not appreciate tardiness. Cease your dallying at once come Monday morning. Or there shall be consequences.

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:41pm – Hob <robert @ dreaming.com> to Morpheus:

RE: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

Morpheus, mate, all due respect, what with your being the sole god, ruler, and iron-fisted authoritarian of the place, but do you have nothing at all better to do than send work emails on a Saturday night?

And before you say, "but Hob, you yourself are replying to emails this Saturday," you are so right! I’m currently drinking alone :)

>> 8:42pm – Morpheus to Hob

I should fire you for such insolence.

>> 8:47pm – Hob to Morpheus

Do it then :)

Alternative proposal: we commit several HR violations like we did in the office on Thursday.

>> 8:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

All proposals must be submitted to me in writing.

>> 8:52pm – Hob to Morpheus

You really want a paper trail?

>> 8:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

It has an email trail already, does it not?

>> 9:05pm – Hob to Morpheus

Please find attached my detailed proposal.

attachment: :)_version_1.docx

>> 9:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

This is twelve pages that only say, “I want to suck your dick.”

>> 9:09pm – Hob to Morpheus

What, have you got edits or something?

Do you need more time to review? Wanna circle back on it later? Block some time on my calendar to go over it? ;)

>> 9:15pm – Morpheus to Hob

My redline is attached.

attachment: :)_version_2.docx

>> 9:17pm – Hob to Morpheus

I’m amenable to those changes.

But on second pass I think we can accomplish more in this partnership. I think I’d like to take you apart slowly, have you begging. You’re always demanding, I think it might be good for you to beg for once. It’s not good business to agree without a little negotiation. I wanna see you beg for my cock.

What are your thoughts on this addition?

>> 9:40pm – Hob to Morpheus

Hi Morpheus, I hope this finds you well. Just following up on this question :)

>> 9:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

Perhaps I am considering.

You may wish to consider that I am your boss.

>> 9:53pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think there’s been a miscommunication. You seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that I give a fuck about that.

>> 9:54pm – Morpheus to Hob

I truly should fire you.

>> 9:55pm – Hob to Morpheus

Don’t you think you deserve to cum first?

>> 9:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

After I beg for it, you mean?

>> 9:57pm – Hob to Morpheus

Now you’re getting it.

If I correctly guess that you’re in your bed, that you’ve BEEN in your bed while you’re “considering,” do I get a gold star? Employee of the month?

>> 10:00pm – Morpheus to Hob

There is no possible universe where you win such an award.

However, your supposition may be correct.

>> 10:02pm – Hob to Morpheus

Excellent, so we’re on the same page, then :)

Are you touching yourself? Are you imagining it’s me touching you instead? Because I’m imagining I have you under me and I’m fucking into your tight hole instead of my hand. (And typing emails w/ one hand is not so easy btw).

>> 10:03pm – Morpheus to Hob

I have two fingers inside me. But it is not enough. I would have your cock.

>> 10:04pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think you know what I wanna hear.

>> 10:05pm – Morpheus to Hob

…Please.

>> 10:06pm – Hob to Morpheus

There’s a good boy.

Don’t worry, love, I’ll give you everything you want. You’re taking me so good, I just know it. Going to feel it for days.

>> 10:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

I am.

Yes

I would have you come in me. If you’re amenable.

>> 10:08pm – Hob to Morpheus  

Fuck you make me so hot. Yeah I’m amenable. Will you cum for me first? Can you cum just from the feeling of me inside you?

10:09pm – phone call from <unknown>

“I thought… you would want to hear it.”

“God your voice… did you get this number from the HR directory?”

“What if I did?”

“Kinda stalkery but kinda hot. Are you close?”

“Very. I… I want you. Badly. Please, Hob.”

“I have you, darling. Ah, you beg so pretty. You can come. I want to hear you. Can you do it without touching yourself? Be good.”

“I can’t—”

“I know you can. Go on. Imagine me with you. Holding your hands to the bed so you can’t touch yourself. I can imagine how beautiful you look. I’d kiss you if I was there, wreck your mouth, too.”

“Hob—”

“Go on. For me?”

“Ah—”

“There you go, sweet thing. I wish I could see you.”

“Will you… come for me now? So I can feel you inside me?”

“Fuck—”

“Good. You feel… so good. Worthy of employee of the month, perhaps.”

“Oh, fuck you, Morpheus. You don’t even have awards at this place.”

“Of course I don’t. That would be inane.”

“Are you satisfied with my efforts, at least?”

“I am pleased to say that I am.”

“Still, I think we should probably debrief that meeting. You wanna touch base about it in person? Say… eleven pm? My calendar’s clear.”

��…Yes.”

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 3 Available Now!

Tagging: @lemonlyman-dotcom and @kiwichaeng

Carlos is an IDIOT. He’s never listening to his sisters again. He’s never texting again. He’s going to become a monk and live a life of solitude.

He stares at the photo on his screen that is decidedly not Deacon from the bar. Deacon’s eyes didn’t sparkle like that, his smile didn’t look like literal sunshine, and his hair definitely wasn’t perfectly tousled in a way that makes Carlos’ fingers itch to run through it. 

This guy looks vaguely familiar, but the name T.K. doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe he’s seen him at the grocery store? Or they go to the same coffee shop?

However he does or doesn’t know him, Carlos ha never felt more embarrassed in his entire life. His fingers fly as he types out an apology.

Carlos

[8:53pm] Oh my god. I’m so sorry.

Not Bar Guy

[8:53pm] No worries.

Did Deacon give him a fake number? Carlos gets up and searches his mail bin for the cocktail napkin he’d brought home from the bar. The number is still legible and Carlos’ eyes scan it quickly. 512…

Carlos checks the number he’d typed into his messages. 212.

Whoops.

How had that happened? Where the hell is the 212 area code even from? Definitely not Austin. Carlos sighs and shakes his head. Whatever. It’s done. He’ll just…text the right number and try again. 

Maybe. 

Or maybe not. 

He flops back onto his sofa, his head a little swimmy from the whiskey. What a fucking mess. He lets his eyes slide shut. Maybe he’ll just go to sleep and when he wakes up this will all have been an alcohol induced nightmare.

His phone buzzes and he reluctantly opens his eyes to find another text message.

Not Bar Guy

[9:02pm] I definitely would remember kissing someone like you. I hope Deacon appreciated it.

He jerks upright, his heart pounding. Is this guy, T.K., is he…flirting? 

Something about the words and the screen and the whiskey and the calming sound of British bakers in the background emboldens him and he types back.

Carlos

[9:03pm] I like to think he did. I’m a pretty good kisser.

Not Bar Guy

[9:04pm] I’m sure you are. Did he give as good as he got?

Carlos huffs out a breath of surprise, the pounding in his heart easing into a more relaxed sense of fun.

Carlos

[9:04pm] He was all right.

Not Bar Guy 

[9:05pm] Just all right? That was a pretty hot pic for just all right.

He flushes. Yes. Okay. He’d been trying to make a little bit of a point. And maybe it was a tiny bit desperate. But he doesn’t want this guy, T.K., to know that.

Before he can formulate a good response another text comes through.

Not Bar Guy

[9:06pm] Just saying, you look like you deserve a little more than that.

Carlos snorts as he types back.

Carlos

[9:06pm] You’ve decided that from one picture?

Not Bar Guy 

[9:06pm] What can I say? I call ‘em like I see ‘em. It’s a very convincing picture.

Carlos

[9:07pm] Thanks. Yours is pretty good too.

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:07pm] Just pretty good? Ouch.

Carlos

[9:07pm] Ah I knew I could see a sensitive ego in those green eyes. How would you like me to describe it?

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:08pm] Charming, captivating, endearing…

Carlos

[9:08pm] Pushy? Forward?

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:08pm] Forward? Says the guy who sent a thirst trap to a complete stranger…

Carlos

[9:09pm] I thought you were Deacon!

T.K. doesn’t respond for long enough that Carlos wonders if he’s finally gotten tired of the conversation. It’s crazy how disappointed that makes him. He’s just about to call it a night and go to bed when his phone lights up once more.

Not Bar Guy- T.K. 

[9:15pm] Sorry, call came in. Gotta go. This was fun though. We should do it again sometime.

A call? Carlos frowns and pulls T.K.’s picture up again, zooming in. He’d been so surprised and embarrassed he hadn’t even noticed the AFD logo on his shirt. This guy is local? Even though his number is clearly from somewhere else?

That’s probably why he looks vaguely familiar. They’ve likely been on some of the same calls. Big ones, obviously, otherwise he would have gotten a more decent look at the guy. There’s no way he would have forgotten those sea green eyes if they’d ever locked on his in person before. 

The whiskey is making him sleepy, pulling his eyes downward so he drags himself upstairs and readies for bed.

If T.K.’s picture is the last thing he looks at before he closes his eyes…well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

Carlos arrives for his shift the next day in a good mood. A really good mood.

“Morning,” he says, setting a coffee from the place down the block on Lexi’s desk. 

“Morning,” she says, looking up in surprise. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Carlos says, sitting down at his desk and booting up the desktop. 

She eyes him suspiciously. “You look perky. More perky than usual.”

Carlos shrugs. “I had dinner with my sisters last night. We had a good time.”

“Mmm….no,” Lexi says. “This isn’t sisters happy. This is something else.”

“Okay, well if you figure it out, let me know,” he tells her. He pulls up his email and then tries to keep his voice casual, as if he hasn’t been planning his next words since the moment he woke up. “Hey, you don’t happen to know a firefighter named T.K. do you?”

It’s the first time he’s said T.K.’s name out loud and it makes his heart flutter. The letters feel familiar in his mouth and send sparks through his stomach. It’s stupid, but this is the feeling he was trying to convey to his sisters last night. Which is dumb. Because he literally knows nothing about this guy.

“T.K.? As in Strand?” Lexi asks.

“Um, yeah?” Carlos hedges. How many T.K.’s can there be in the AFD?

“Isn’t that the firefighter that got shot a couple months ago?” she asks. “Out of the 126?”

Oh. Oh. 

That’s why he looked familiar. His picture had been on every news network, the talk of the department for over a week. Firefighter shot on duty. Crazy stuff.

“Right,” he says. “Now I remember.”

“I think his dad’s captain of that station,” Lexi says. “Why are you asking?”

“His name came up when I was out with a couple of the guys,” Carlos lies. “I couldn’t place him and thought you might remember.”

“That whole house was killed in that big explosion too, remember?”

“Right,” Carlos says, remembering it all too well. He knows people who’d gone to the scene that night and found total devastation. It was awful.

He waits for Lexi to go back to her work and then Carlos does something he promised himself he would never, ever do. He runs a background check for personal reasons.

T.K. stands for Tyler Kennedy. Carlos thinks of the picture he saved to his phone. T.K. is definitely a better fit. It’s fun and cute. Tyler Kennedy is…a little too stuffy for that rumpled hair and cheeky grin.

The shooting pops up obviously, but it’s not the only thing. Carlos clicks on a file from six months ago. T.K. was brought in for drunk and disorderly as well as assault and battery, but he blew a point zero and no charges were pressed. Huh. Interesting.

He clicks on the report of the shooting. It’s grim. Carlos feels sick as his eyes scan the words. Point blank range to the chest, a kid was involved…T.K. is damn lucky he survived.

He can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. They head out on patrol and he can’t help secretly hoping they’ll get rolled to a fire call somewhere. Then he realizes how stupid that is. Fire is a twenty-four hour shift. If T.K. was on last night, he’s probably off the rest of today. 

Carlos hits the gym after work and then the grocery store. Usually cooking puts him in a good headspace, but tonight he’s a million miles away. He can’t stop thinking about their conversation. Or the shooting. Is T.K. okay? Does he have permanent damage? He’s obviously back at work since he went out on a call last night, so does that mean he’s okay now?

This is so stupid, he doesn’t even know the guy. He shouldn’t care this much. It’s just, the thought of that beautiful face no longer being in the world isn’t sitting well with him.

He settles into bed intent on reading, trying to take his mind off of things. But his eyes keep drifting to his phone. 

He should not do this. You don’t text random strangers out of the blue. That’s not normal. It’s not okay.

He picks up his phone and then almost drops it when it buzzes in his hand.

T.K.

[9:13pm] So. Did you get in touch with “Deacon”?

Carlos stares at his phone like it’s some kind of poisonous snake. Did he make this happen? What are the chances T.K. would text him at the exact moment he’d made up his mind to do the same?

Carlos

[9:14pm] What’s with the quotes?

T.K.

[9:14pm] I’m not convinced Deacon is a real person.

Carlos

[9:14pm] You think I kissed an imaginary man in a bar?

T.K.

[9:15pm] Alcohol can make you believe a lot of things…

Carlos

[9:15pm] I’d had one beer!

T.K.

[9:15pm] You’re avoiding the question.

Carlos

[9:16pm] I was at work all day today. There wasn’t time.

T.K.

[9:17pm] No time like the present. Do you want help? I’m very good with words.

Carlos snorts and types quickly.

Carlos

[9:17pm:] I’m not going to text him. That ship has sailed.

T.K.

[9:17pm] Good.

Carlos

[9:18pm] Good?

T.K.

[9:18pm] I feel a sense of responsibility now that I’ve seen your abs. Those deserve to be protected from the average Deacons of the world.

Okay this guy is straight up flirting. They’re about three texts away from a booty call. Which is not something Carlos does. But the shiver dancing up and down his spine whispers at him to make an exception. 

He decides to change the subject before he does something stupid. 

Carlos

[9:19pm] So you’re AFD?

T.K.

[9:20pm] Yep.

Carlos

[9:20pm] But you’re not from here.

T.K.

[9:21pm] Not even a little.

Over the next half hour Carlos learns that T.K. came with his dad from New York to rebuild the 126. And not just New York, but like New York, New York. The kind of New York that Carlos has only seen in movies and on TV.

Even through the phone Carlos can tell it wasn’t an easy move. T.K. seems to be glossing over the finer details, but he does talk about his dad’s cancer and how hard it was to leave his mom.

Carlos can’t even imagine uprooting his entire life to move to somewhere so different. His family is here. His entire life is here. 

Carlos

[9:47pm] That must have been really hard. To leave your whole life behind.

T.K.

9:48pm: I needed the change. My dad saw it. There was nothing left for me there. But yeah. It wasn’t easy. Why does everyone here smile all the time? What’s with all the friendliness?

Carlos

[9:50pm] Well you never know when you might need to borrow somebody’s tractor or an extra pair of hands for calving season. You have to be nice to your neighbors so they’ll return the favor.

T.K.

[9:51pm] Ah, see. I knew that niceness didn’t come honestly. It’s all a ruse.

Carlos

[9:51pm] You got us.

Carlos glances at the clock and sighs.

Carlos

[9:52pm] Hey sorry, I have an early shift again tomorrow. I should probably call it a night.

T.K.

[9:52pm] A shift? At the…hospital? Coal mine? Car wash?

Carlos

[9:52pm] Those might be easier. I’m APD.

T.K.

[9:53pm] Wow you really withheld the evidence on that one officer.

Carlos

[9:53pm] Well I can’t tell you everything all at once. Where’s the fun in that?

T.K.

[9:54pm] I look forward to continuing to play detective.

Carlos sets his phone down and heads into the bathroom to get ready for bed. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and pauses. He’s smiling. A lovesick, dreamy smile. The sight makes him laugh at himself. He’s an idiot. 

[la-principessa-nuova]

I’m definitely on a sort of downward spiral of distractibility and sleep schedule.

My official plan is to sleep 12am-8am and work 9am-5pm.

I was doing so well last year, typically falling asleep somewhere between 11 and 1, and waking up naturally somewhere between 7 and 8.

Then in early December, I had the moment where I understood my gender dysphoria and that I needed to transition, and that night I stayed up until 4 am reading about gender dysphoria and then until 5 am taking notes about it and buying stuff to try out presenting femme.

I never fully recovered from that night.

Eventually, around the time I started therapy, I mostly solved the issue (not because the therapy helped me with it, but more like being in a better place helped me get through finding a therapist finally). I was going to bed like 1-3 am, waking up 8:30-9 on weekdays, 8:30-11 on weekends.

Then I came out to my mom and sister, and there were a few nights after that where they unexpectedly came over with a barrage of questions and “concerns” and every time I’d planned on doing something else and so when they left I just continued on as if they hadn’t been there and stayed up late.

But then I got in the habit again of staying up until after 3am, with most nights not being in bed until 4am and so many nights that i’m up past 5am.

so then i sleep through my 8am alarm and usually wake up to my 9am one, check my email and teams on my phone, and if there’s nothing important, i go back to sleep.

So like right now it’s 12:15pm, and I haven’t gotten out bed to start working yet, aside from a few emails I read and archived in bed. Luckily the nature of my job doesn’t require me to do it on a schedule, aside from if i have meetings or someone asks me something, so I’ve been able to work around it mostly, except the part where I’m soooi tired all the time bc even with sleeping in, i’m only getting like 4-6 hours per night.

And I have an interview today for a job that would require me to get out of bed every morning and be on a call at 9 AM, and I kind of can’t imagine that even though I did it for years with no problem.

But I just keep getting so distracted. Like last night I went upstairs at like 11ish PM. I went up because I had an idea for a comic that I wanted to make, that I’d gotten distracted when I tried to make it earlier, and I sat down thinking I’ll do a quick doodle of it to get the idea out, maybe finish it, and be in bed by 1 AM. Then I got more distracted and ended up not staring drawing until almost 1 AM.

But it’s OK, I told myself, I’ll just doodle the concept really quickly and go to bed. Then I got hyper-focused on drawing, and suddenly it was, no joke, after 5 AM.

When I saw how late it was, I immediately went to bed. But by the time I fell asleep it was after 5:30.

But, like, the less I sleep the easier I get distracted and hyperfocus on the wrong things, and the more I do that, the less I sleep. It’s a vicious cycle.

I have some ideas to try to get myself back on track, but PDA makes it a real struggle to stick to plans that are ultimately about getting me to stop doing what I want and yield my time, since as soon as I go to sleep, my time is over and the next thing I have to do is work again.

[jackiebrackettt]

sometimes i try to remember what timezone ur in, and then realize that when i wake up is when you probably go to bed... is it like. 23:15 for you?

eh i’m in Ambiguous Australian Timezone which is either that one ^^ or 8:15pm -> or anything inbetween ^_^ but yeah esp right now there’s not a ton of overlap between me and Americans I think (<- I’m assuming ur American) unless there is and mine and kai’s schedules are just ridiculously out of whack rn. I think when I wake up there’s more overlap rn but yeah o(-(

I feel like most ppl automatically assume i’m in 11:15pm bc that’s Sydney’s timezone and that’s the city ppl are most likely to know

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 8: strawberry shortcake

contents: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru & reader, ieri shoko & reader, extreme friendship, swearing, fluff, gojo just being a brat, jealous!gojo, gojo calls you babe.

summary: when gojo finds that he’s surprisingly irritated observing your growing friendship with geto, ieri has some advice for him. wc: 6.2k

“but seriously next time I get to choose the movie – “ “oh big talk coming from the guy who chose the movie where we both instantly fell asleep.” gojo raises an eyebrow, falling asleep together? was there something that suguru wasn’t telling him? he told gojo everything, what would there be to hide – unless.. and you, the playfulness in your tone – he’s never heard you like this before.

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gojo sighs heavily, his lonely footsteps echoing down the dark hallway. a week long mission alone? pfff easy – it was a mere grade 2 but the real difficulty lay in fighting the never ending boredom.  if someone – shoko or suguru or you –  were there with him it would’ve been way more fun. he wouldn’t have had to rely on watching shitty hotel tv or playing snake on his phone for the hundredth time. gojo was restless, he wanted something to do, someone to talk to, someone to bother. a specific someone.

reaching in to his pocket for his phone, he feels the cool beads of his matching phone charm. and he thinks about you.

would you be up right now? maybe he should go see you, say hi, hear your voice again - no, no – it’s too late, you must be trying to sleep.

lately, gojo realises that he easily found you in almost everything. while he was on his mission his thoughts often wandered to you: how would’ve enjoyed the oden he had at that small booth in takayama. when he took a photo of his meal and sent it to you, he couldn’t help his satisfied smile when you uncharacteristically responded quickly, asking where he got it from. he made a mental note to remember the stall to bring you one day. he thought about you when he passed the ads in town of the sequel to that sci-fi movie you mentioned last week, maybe you would watch it with him. he thought that time when he carried you to bed as he lathered his hands with the hotel room soap, lavender in the air – another reminder of you.

over the past couple of weeks, gojo was happy to see that you were returning to your usual self. he wasn’t sure what changed but he was happy that you had that light in your eyes return. you smiled when you talked to ieri in class again, laugh loudly when you would tease geto again and playfully roll your eyes and scoff at his comments again. he was even more pleased that you started responding to his texts more often, sure there were usually only a few words in response – but it was still something.

opening his flip phone, he checks his messages hopefully:  

gojo: b <3 what u doingggg (2:31pm) omg so boring here (2:34pm) hehe look at this looks like a butt [image]  (2:31pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡ gross gojo (3:45pm) gojo: ( • ᴖ • ｡) wyddddd (3:47pm)

♡ grumpy lil babe ♡ reading (3:50pm) gojo: what r u reading (4:15pm) do u miss me yet??? (4:23pm) dw im heading home soon  (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (4:23pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: be safe   (4:30pm) gojo: dw b, im the strongest  ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ im the best the most handsome (4:25pm)  ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡:  stop gojo (4:30pm)

a reverberating thud followed by a familiar muffled laugh interrupts his thoughts, bringing him back to the dark hallway.

what was that?

“suguruuuu! stop – i swear to god, i’m going to murder–“ a playful muffled voice.

eh? it was definitely coming from next door. was that.. was that you and suguru? 

your door promptly opens, warm light spilling out into the darkness of the hallway. gojo sees the surprising sight of his best friend exiting your room/

what was he doing there at this hour?  usually you’d be trying to sleep at this time.

why were you up?  

“but seriously next time I get to choose the movie – “

“oh big talk coming from the guy who chose the movie where we both instantly fell asleep.”

gojo raises an eyebrow, falling asleep together? was there something that suguru wasn’t telling him? he told gojo everything, what would there be to hide – unless.. and you, the playfulness in your tone – he’s never heard you like this before.

“oh really? if I can recall, you said quote “that was the best nap ever, suguru!!” when you woke up.” geto’s smug voice light with laughter, pitched up playfully mimicking your intonation.

gojo moves closer to source of the lively chatter, finding geto stalling by the threshold of your room, dressed down in comfortable clothes, loose hair, with a soft smile on his face.

gojo would’ve laughed at his strangely accurate impression of you if he didn’t feel his blood pressure rising, sourness coating his stomach, acidic and fuming. what were you and suguru doing in there? were you - “i didn’t say it like that, dumbass!” you scoff  “that was only because I had just come back from yokohama but you have no excuse –" "dude you were snoring so lou –“, he hears the shuffle of your feet as you move closer to pinch geto’s arm before stopping, noticing him. “ouch! don’t pinch me – oh hey satoru!” geto turns to greets him, rubbing his arm, eyes shooting you a bemused eyebrow quirk. geto’s methodical amethyst eyes quickly sweep over gojo’s tall frame, a smile adorns his face as he confirms that his best friend is predictably unharmed.

your head pops out of side of your door, dressed in comfortable pajamas, hair messy and tousled falling over your eyes.

“oh hi, gojo.” you say nonchalantly, eyes flickering to his face before quickly looking back at geto, “sugu, next time don’t forget the snacks,” you say with a slight pout.

“okay, okay. I wont next time, promise.” geto says shaking his head with a smile, “how was the mission, satoru? simple?” he conversationally adds, smacking gojo’s shoulder.

“easy as usual … and what were you guys up to tonight?” his eyebrows wiggle, “ha babe, if we’re going to share –  I want suguru on monday to –“

“pfff gojo, he’s not a child of divorce.”

gojo doesn’t miss the way you dodge his question.

he whines your name, “do we need to take this to court?”

a cheeky smirk dances on your lips, “you just want suguru to call you daddy.”

geto snorts before meeting your eyes in a shared mischievous glee that gojo doesn’t miss to his annoyance.

gojo’s eyes twinkle in return easily matching your mischief, “oooh babe, does that mean you’re momm–“

“good night, suguru.” you deadpan, rolling your eyes in gojo’s direction. he feels his geto’s eyes burning a hole through the side of his face, his smug smile is a bit too knowing for gojo’s liking, prompting a questioning look from latter.

“whaaaaaat?” he says exasperatedly. here we go again. suguru with his bullshit.

gojo hates it when he gets like this, all high and mighty like geto was privy to a secret. “you’re an idiot you know that?”

“sugu, just out with it.” he sighs, hands weaving through his hair.

“y’know satoru, there’s easier ways to get their attention without being annoying.” geto says tilting his head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dude.“ slender arms crossing his chest as gojo glances at your closed door.

geto rolls his eyes at his best friend’s stubbornness. for someone blessed with the six eyes, he was really blind.

“i’m just saying, man.” geto says smacking gojo’s shoulder as he passes, heading into his room to the right of gojo’s.

narrowed blue eyes follow geto’s receding figure before turning the doorknob to his own entrance way and strolls in, huffing as he walks in. what did suguru know anyway?

you sighed as you opened your door, tossing your school bag on your desk without a care. you stretched with a groan, rolling your shoulder to ease the tension that your fatigued body carried throughout the day.  it was nearing the end of a long week –  extra practices and lessons coupled with the shorter days of the autumn left you feeling more fatigued that usual. but despite the creeping darkness of the day, you felt lighter. you were sleeping better than ever – you were thankful that you didn’t have as many nightmares as before. perhaps it had to do with the growing comfortability you felt with ieri, geto and gojo. you remember the conversation you had with gojo: he was right, it was weird having friends. it still surprised you when geto would call you out of the blue or when ieri would get an extra coffee just for you. when you didn’t have anyone you had more time, more peace –loneliness cushioning your pounding thoughts.  but recently you found that you were busier than ever. ieri would want you to accompany her into town because she wanted your opinion on the new lipsticks that just came out. you’d laugh when she bought both anyway.  geto would gently knock on your door asking if you wanted to go for a walk with him on the school grounds, listening intently as you told him about your day. gojo would constantly text you sending you photos of anything that he thought would make you laugh or he would pop by whenever he pleased, moaning about being bored or wanting a cuddle with bun bun. you always had someone to talk to, voices in your head being replaced with boisterous laughter.

stretching out on your bed, you stared at the ceiling wondering what ieri was up to. maybe you’d call her to see if she wanted to do something.

you flip open your phone to check your messages, unconsciously playing with the black beads of your phone charm. on your screen you hum as you see the usual messages from gojo which you ignore in favour for the one from ieri.

ieri shoko: come w us to that café I was talking about at break (5:04pm) btw us is satoru, sugu, me n u come, don’t b boring (5:15pm)

ah. right. she mentioned to you that she wanted to try that cozy café in shibuya that she saw, the one with the cute lights and the pretty drinks.

you: what time? (5:17pm) ieri shoko: in 30 (5:18pm)

getting up with a groan you begin to get ready, the promise of a matcha latte energizing you.

after appropriately layering up to match the fall weather, you hear your doorknob turn - 

“heyyyy, y’ready or what?” your head whips to the tall white haired disturbance.

 “would it kill you to knock, gojo?” you snap, your hands buttoning up your coat.

­“I did! but you were taking too long!” gojo grins, moving into your room, swinging his arms, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“what if I was changing or something?”

he smiles brashly, “heh, then that’d be even better– “  

you roll your eyes. “don’t you dare finish that sentence, gojo, ugh.” lips pursing.

his slender hands up in defense, “im just joking, babe – really! how low is your opinion of me” he pouts, his whole body drooping at your expression, “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear.’ he hastily says trying to rectify of your unmoving frown and unimpressed stare.

“…you forgot this, by the way. “ ah, that’s where it went. he gently holds out your scarf bundled up in his left hand, caressing as if it was a secret shared between the two of you.

“you uh, left it on my desk the last time..” he mutters, moving closer to you, he takes the scarf in his hands and drapes the soft fabric around you, a hug he didn’t have the courage yet to give you. “.. are you feeling better now..?” you hum, trying to distract yourself from the sudden wave of nervousness you feel. the combined softness of the scarf around your exposed neck and the strange tenderness of his gaze was enough to make you feel unsteady. “mhm, yeah much better –  i can breathe again, all thanks to you.” he says brightly, blue eyes focused on your scarf. looking up at him, you couldn’t help but notice how close he was, the air in your room growing heavier when electricity. you observe how his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, trying to recreate the exact way you wore your scarf in sapporo. he had a freckle on the side of his left cheek – you hadn’t noticed that. you wonder what it’d feel like against your palms or against your lips, if your fingers traced his lips would it remind you of the way – 

what was wrong with you? you almost cringe at your own intrusive thoughts – this was gojo. the dumb boy who poked your cheeks to get your attention, who loudly teased you about the stupidest things, making your head spin with ridiculous requests and crazy plans of mischief.  satoru gojo: just another boy, just like everyone else, just another dumb boy. satoru.  

he senses your stare, meeting your eyes, “hm?” “you good? it looks like you’re in pain or something.” “i..uh, yeah.” you clear your throat, leaning closer to him. “uh, i’m good, are you good?” his eyes flicker to your lips. soft. pretty.

“m’ good.” he smiles at you. you wish he wouldn’t. “ta da! now you won’t get cold anymore.” he softly grins, remembering how you shivered in sapporo. he wouldn’t mind having to warm up again though he thinks, the admittance simultaneously confusing him and bringing him comfort. you hum, looking up at him.  his hands still holding the ends of your scarf around your neck, hands unable to let go. “y’know, babe.. I–“ a soft knock on your door.

“that’s probably them,” you whisper, still staring at him. “mhm, we should go,” his hands dropping hesitantly from your scarf, moving to brush some hair out of your face. you close your eyes sighing, you didn’t know what was going on with you – lately you’ve been more willing to withstand gojo’s company. you found yourself laughing more around him, not even minding his crude jokes and annoying pouts.

this was uncharted territory for you – having friends, having anyone – you had to be careful. now you had something to lose, you had to be prepared for the inevitable.  your hands twitch at the thought of his.

“I told you sugu, it’s because you keep eating that kimchi, it’s gone off I swear – “

“– uh huh, you sure about that? i gave you some the other day and you didn’t have any stomach issues –“

gojo ears perk up hearing your playful tone, watching you and geto walk in front of him and ieri. the autumn sun low and waning, doing little to warm his pale face. he thinks the cold weather is the reason why his fists keep clenching.

were you and geto always this close? when did this happen, do you and geto hang out all the time or something? when did he miss that? gojo has to remind himself to loosen his tightening jaw as watches as your hand gesture wildly as happily chat with geto, a cute bounce in your step. “- and then yaga told me, that if he finds out that it was you and suguru that switched all the sugar and salt in the kitchens again that he’s going to shave both of your heads, so maybe lay low for a couple of weeks.” ieri sighs, tucking her cold hands into her pocket beside him.

half listening, gojo irritatedly tousling his hair while mumbling something incoherently.

“gojo, what did i just say?” she glaces at him, his uncharacteristic silence deafening.  

he sighs before putting on a thin smile. “that suguru and I should lay low even though I swear – it was babe who switched it this time.”

“okay, then what died?” ieri asks amused at gojo’s stony expression, his usual bouncy stride heavy and stiff with the weight of something unspoken.  “what are you talking about?” he asks as ieri rolls her eyes, “I can sense your cursed energy going off the rails.”

“eh? nothing!” he waves his hand, attempting to brush away his intruding thoughts. “everything’s fine and dandy, boo! you keep thinking of me though, do you like me or something because – “ ierri’s nostrils flare, she quickly curls her hand into a first before roughly punching gojo’s shoulder, earning her a satisfying whine.

she hates when gojo does this, trying to mask his feelings when it was so easy to read him. who did he think he was he fooling? subtly was never in the cards for gojo, he too up too much space, he was unapologetic in every sense. why couldn’t he be honest with himself? she scoffs, having no patience for his nonsense. “whatever you say, dude – “ she says reaching over to take his glasses from his face.

“how come you always beat me up, shoko!” he complains, rubbing his eyes.

“because you deserve it.” she says, putting on his dark glasses on her, side eying gojo’s thinly veiled smile and fidgeting hands as he watches you and geto walk closer together, laughter fading in the background.

shoko stops abruptly, stopping gojo with her arm. she tilts gojo’s glasses down her nose with a pointed look. “what?” he asks, turning to fully face her. “satoru – if you like them, just tell them.” “what? what are you talking – “ “don’t play around, satoru. im serious.” she looks into his blue eyes. “shoko, I have no idea what you’re talking about.“ this dumbass. she tsks. taking off his glasses to put them back onto his face. “im not playing around –“ “then, be straightforward with them, if you don’t youre going to hurt –“ gojo scoffs impatiently, pushing his glasses up “i would never hurt them,” mild offence coating his words. “i know you won’t mean to but sometimes you’re reckless. even if you have good intentions, it doesn’t mean that your actions wouldn’t hurt someone, yourself included.” ieri says adjusting her coat, her sigh weighing heavy in the air. “whatever it is, just don’t be more of an idiot today – they’re just friends.” she states plainly watching you sneakily collect the falling gingko leaves, attempting to tuck them into geto’s bun without him noticing. your eyes sparkling when you catch ieri’s eye, a mischievous smile prominent. it didn’t look like just friends to him as he watches you animatedly talk to geto, teasing smile on your face, soft hands generous with your touch casually slapping his arm as geto turns to you softly laughing.

“yeah… everyone’s friends,” gojo mumbles, eyes stormy behind his glasses, arms crossing against his chest.

“satoru, seriously –“ she starts, her name serves as an interruption silencing ieri’s rant.

“shoko!” you call out again, smile still prominent on your face as you turn back to get her attention. ieri watches as geto takes hair down to brush the leaves out of his hair. he mumbles something exasperatedly before retying his bun up, bangs blowing softly in the gentle breeze.  “which one is it again?” “just the one on the corner at the very end!” she shouts back as you and geto look up at the signs of the small cafes lining the street. ieri chuckles as she catches a glimpse of geto trying to sneakily put some leaves into your scarf.

gojo cant help but take in your face, flushing from the cold. he notices the way your eyes reflect the light of the shop windows. he liked the gentle way you would bounce on your feet when you saw something in the shop windows that peaked your interest, a small hand grabbing geto’s elbow to halt his long stride to point something out. he suddenly didn’t feel so hungry anymore. watching you and geto he felt like his stomach was filling of something that he didn’t understand, but far too acidic and harsh to be pleasant. the longer he stared, he couldn’t help but let it consume him.   

ieri abruptly nudges him, “– hey, stop staring, we’re here.” she mumbles, seeing you slowly approach gojo with a curious look.  

ieri swiftly flashes gojo a shit eating grin that he doesn’t catch, before joining geto inside the café, the bell of the door jingling announcing her leave.

“hm, what’s with the face?” you ask him, waiting for him at the entrance. “why? you’ve been staring?” he puckering up his lips playfully, the sound of your voice easing the acidity. “nope.” you easy answer, looking at him as if trying to study gojo’s face.  He holds the door open for both of you, “you’re just weirdly quiet.. what are you planning?”

how to kill suguru without you noticing.

he grins stalely, easily masking the lump growing in this throat, “nothing, nothing. why babe, thinking y’thinking ‘bout me?”

he leans closely to your face, taking advantage of the limited time he has with you. your eyes widen at his sudden closeness, cheeks flushing in surprise.  “hmm, what’s with the face, babe?” he mocks, looking into your wide eyes. “it’s a face of disgust,” you answer weakly, “you should be used to it now.” rolling your eyes as you turn around to easily slot behind ieri and geto in line who were  busy chatting thoughtfully about the menu. the café was small but cozy, wooden accents contrasting between cool black metal. there was an aesthetically pleasing drinks menu and a beautiful case filled with various pastries and cakes. it definitely suited ieri you thought. “suguru? could you just get me my usual please? I have to use the restroom.” you ask suguru in front of you, gently pulling the back of his jacket to get his attention. “do you want the almond milk this time or regular?” he asks, leaning down slightly to hear you better, still looking at the menu.

gojo can’t help but roll his eyes behind his glasses, foot tapping out an unfamiliar rhythm, jagged staccato echoing the heaviness in his heart.  “maybe regular this time and ahh.. a slice of cake? whatever you think is good – you always know what to get anyway.” you say thoughtfully, unwrapping your scarf. “yeah, baby? can you get something for me too? you’re so big and so strong, maybe you can carry me to the table too – “

“gojo, I know for a fact you’d giggle like a school girl if suguru carried you. maybe for your birthday.” you shut his jabber down immediately, patting his shoulder patronizingly before making your way across the café to the bathrooms. geto narrows his eyes at gojo’s gaping at your back before turning his gaze to ieri who he catches biting her lip to stifle her laughter.

oh. oh this will be fun. catching shoko’s twinkling eyes, geto thinks it’s about time that gojo get the push he needs to figure this out.

“i can pick you up if that’s what you really want, satoru.” he purrs as he moves closer to gojo, ruffling his hair.

“shut up suguru.” he pouts, brushing moving away from his teasing grasp to order his food.

choosing the cozy banquet near the back of the cafe, you gaze out the window watching the sun go down. you slowly take off your coat, hands brushing your scarf, loose ginkgo leaves falling to the ground.  your mind easily drifts to his soft hands brushed your hair away from your face.

why were you thinking about this? it’s just a stupid scarf, that smelled like his room – like him. you clear your throat. you had to get it together. stop it. “so, I was thinking,” ieri says brightly, plopping down in the seat next to you while balancing a plate with a rather large chocolate croissant, “ – did you wanna go shopping with me sometime next week?” “what did you want to get?”  “a disposable camera. i think we should take some photos, I realised I don’t have any of us together.” says ieri nonchalantly, “and I’d rather have you all over my walls than these two.” she jerks her head at an approaching geto holding a slice of strawberry shortcake in each hand while a slightly less grumpy gojo trails behind him closely carrying a tray of various cake slices. geto smiles at you as he slides you your slice of cake, claiming the seat in front of you to gojo’s dismay.

ieri’s eyes widen at gojo’s diabetic feast. “eugh satoru, save some cake for the rest of japan.” ieri says, nose crinklling, watching gojo balancing 3 different slices of cake. it looked like a beautiful matcha one, a delicate tiramisu and a rich double chocolate layered cake. “see, that’s what I told him…” geto murmurs under his breath. “hey! I don’t say shit when you buy your magazines-“ he murmurs, demolishing a third of the matcha cake in a single bite. geto shoots gojo a disgusted look before turning to you and ieri, “our drinks are coming by the way, they’ll send someone over.”  as he passes you a spoon as you thank him.

“so, babe. let’s get that camera next week, okay?” shoko teases, turning to you while chewing a piece of her chocolate croissant happily.

“eughhhh, if you don’t ever call me that again we can go.” you groan, taking a small bite out of your cake enjoying the light whipped cream pillowing the crisp fresh strawberries.

“hmm, I dunno…” geto playfully comments, “I think it suits you though, babe,” resting his cheek on his palm.

a clang echoes through the air. gojo’s fork falling noisily on his plate as he chokes on his mouthful of cake, it sliding heavily into his stomach settling like a rock.

you turn your head to gojo, “you okay gojo? don’t eat so quickly – chew!”

ieri has to turn around to stifle her giggles at gojo’s ridiculousness, shoulders shaking silently. she couldn’t wait to tease him about this tomorrow.

gojo coughs as geto pats his back roughly. “oh yeah babe, i’m just amazing.” gojo wheezes.

“and you, don’t fucking start.” you say rolling your eyes, kicking geto gently under the table.

“yeah sugu, only I get to call them that.” gojo grumbles, loud enough for only ieri to hear.

ieri’s snort announces the arrival of the table’s drinks –  an iced hazelnut latte for ieri, a hojicha tea for geto, a triple hot chocolate with whipped cream for gojo and a matcha latte for yourself.

“shoko, what were you saying about yaga sensei wanting to shave our heads?” geto asks, passing you your drink carefully.

ieri snickers with a wolfish grin, “he told me before lunch. it’s because he thinks that you and satoru were the ones who switched the salt and sugar in the kitchens again. that’s why they just had instant ramen and those pork buns for lunch today.”

you laugh. “good. the kitchens need to taste their food more or something, that oyakodon needed way more season–“ “aww, satoru, cmon.” geto moans.

you turn your head to catch gojo reaching over and triumphantly taking the large strawberry decorating the top of geto’s cake, popping it into his mouth with a cheeky grin.

“you have like 3 pieces of cake, and you still want some of mine?” geto smacks gojo’s shoulder unimpressed. judging by his deadpan voice combined with the looseness of his shoulders, you think that geto’s used to this behaviour from his misbehaving puppy – silent disappointment colouring his words.

“it’s okay you can have mine. here -“ gojo watches you with wide eyes as you gently scoop your strawberry off of your half eaten cake with your spoon with an irritating sense of causality, like you’ve done this a thousand times before. you lean across the table to lifting the spoon up to geto’s mouth.

he pulls away with a slight frown on his face, searching your face, calling your name. “y’sure? i know you love strawberries...” “s’okay, sugu.” you mention nonchalantly, moving the spoon closer to his mouth. “I want you to have it, you paid for it anyway.” ieri grips the glass of her iced hazelnut latte before quickly taking a sip through the paper straw, not trusting herself from bursting out laughing. her brown eyes dart to a frozen gojo, mouth etched into a hard line, leg bouncing up and down irritatingly watching the scandalous scene unfold. ieri knew that you and geto were just friends, close friends in fact but nothing more. she would have had some sympathy for gojo, but after weeks of catching him staring in your direction or catching how his ears would perk up when ieri casually mentioned you in passing. she’d even asked him outright if he had any sort of feelings towards you to which he always brushed off, claiming that ieri was watching too many romance dramas. she had enough – this was getting painfully ridiculous. with a scoff ieri thought that in this light, jealousy looked good on him. it would do him some good.

sensing geto’s hesitation, you say with a bit of bite to your tone “dude, im sure. just take it  – or do I have to start making airplane noises for you?” geto scoffs at your impatience. he allows you to gently guide your spoon into his awaiting mouth, “mhm, thanks –“  geto hums chewing on fruit.

ieri thinks she might cry trying to hold in her laughter at gojo’s murderous pout.

he turning his best friend, moving his bangs out of his face, “holy shit, satoru I forgot to tell you – in roppongi last week  – “ gojo watched you at the corner of his eye lick off the rest of the whipped cream on the spoon, moving to take another spoonful of your cake, engaged in a conversation with ieri about your new training regimen that yaga implemented.

occasionally you look over at gojo, his dark glasses covering his stormy eyes, his slender fingers drumming restlessly against the countertops. regardless of what he said when you entered the café, it seemed like something was on his mind.

what was he thinking about? was he okay? “– I don’t know man,” geto continues, “you can’t just do whatever you want like that. at least call him yaga sensei, no wonder he automatically assumes you’re –“

“ah… do we not have napkins?” your voice rings out, cutting through the static.

“oh– I can, grab some if –“ geto starts, moving to get up.

“no, no – i’ll get some for you don’t worry!” he shoots up enthusiastically walking across the cafe, cutting geto off rudely.

“oh – ah. thanks.”

geto forces down a smirk and shoots a pointed look at ieri. look at this idiot go, eh?

 ieri rolls her eyes in response, hand shooting up to cover her mouth to prevent a laugh escaping. I know. I told him to cool it. dumbass.

“here, babe.” gojo returns, handing you a few napkins.

“thanks.” you smile softly at him as your fingers brush his. geto notices gojo’s lingering stare as you wipe your lips with a napkin. “hey, shoko?” geto calls wearing an enigmatic smile as he sips the last of his tea,“didn’t you want to grab some cigarettes?”

“right!” ieri’s eyes light up, catching on quickly, slightly disappointed at geto’s saintly behaviour, she wanted to see gojo suffer just a bit more.  “yeah, I’ve just run out. since we’re finished, let’s go grab some really quick.”

you nod, folding your napkin, “mhm, call us when you’re done.” “we’ll see you in a bit!” geto says over his shoulder, as you wave at them. geto smiles at how gojo easily slides into his seat in front of you, shaking his head in amusement. “how’s your cake, babe?” gojo asks leaning towards you, scraping his spoon against the dainty plate to catch the remnants of the chocolate ganache. “really good, actually. we should come back here another time, your chocolate cake looked pretty good.” you mention, taking a long drink out of your matcha latte. “yeah? you like this place? let’s go to this other café me and suguru stumbled upon last week – “

you sit in a comfortable silence, listening as gojo chatters about how this other café had pastries shaped like “ these cute fucking cats and puddings shaped like ducks! I’ve never seen anything like it, babe –“ finishing your drinks, you watch as the streets outside slowly empty, darkness overtaking the grey sky.

“shall we go, grumps?” he suggests as you nod, shrugging your coat on and grabbing your scarf.

gojo opens the door for you, as you quickly follow him onto the quiet streets, the street lights illuminating your way home. clutching your scarf, you quickly wrap it around yourself.  “did you have enough to eat?” he asks hands in his pockets. “yeah, the matcha was nice,” you answer, taken aback by his thoughtful question. “your usual you said – you always get a matcha latte?” “mhm, yeah. it was a thing for me and my dad. he’d always sneak me matcha candies when mom wasn’t looking and my sister was asleep – he’d say that it was our little secret. so now.. whenever I have matcha I think of him.” you say, eyes focused on the lights in front of you. you didn’t know how it became so easy to speak to him, but you didn’t mind.   “have you matcha from kyoto? the best matcha is in kyoto.” he asks adjusting his glasses. “mhm, I haven’t. ha, what?” you say with the tilt of your head noting his unusual silence. what was up with him today?  “why gojo, don’t like kyoto?” “nah, im from there,” he answers easily, warmth slowly returning to his voice. your eyes widen slightly. you didn’t know that. huh. “the estate is there, so they make me go there every couple of weeks to do clan shit.” “and I assume that clan shit isn’t just sitting around and drinking matcha at home, eh?”  he chuckles, stretching out his lanky frame carding his hands through his hair. “nope. home is not exactly the… warmest place in the world. y’know – the estate.” “home can be a complicated word.” you say shrugging your scarf on tighter. “more like fucked up, babe.” “that too.” you laugh, a bright and airy sound. gojo smiles. “we used to move a lot as a kid, and my sister used to cry and cry about it. my mom used to always say that home wasn’t a place but a person.” you say softly.

gojo turns his head to look at you, your forlorn smile, eyes searching the starless sky. he thinks that you look beautiful. maybe your mom could be right.

“hey! we should go to that ice cream matcha ice cream place in asakusa” he says excitedly, as your face lights up and his suggestion, “it’s way closer to than kyoto but just as good.” “hmm yeah, we should go. I wanna try those matcha parfaits –“ you say happily, arms swinging playfully. you turn to him abruptly, moving your face closer to his “but you can’t share with me –“ wagging a finger in his face, “you need to get your own.”

gojo stops in his tracks, deep pout on his face. “wooooow, babe. you’re seriously not gonna even share with me!?”

you laugh, a bright and fleeting sound. he thinks he could live in your laugh.   “gojo, come on,” you poke his cheek, “i know you can finish a whole one by yourself, you just ate fucking 3 slices of cake!” another poke. “you’re so greedy, grumps.” he whines, appalled by the injustice.

“i’m the greedy one?! gojoooooo!!” you pout back. gojo feels like he might explode.

“that doesn’t matter – it’s more fun if we share!!” he pokes your cheek back, a grin fighting its way on his face, blue eyes crinkling in the dark. “but I want the whole damn thing!” you whine back, noticing the way gojo’s hand settles to plays with a tassel of your scarf. “ah, ah, ahhh - what about the babe tax?” “what the fuck is the babe tax, gojo?” ­ you gape. “I get to have a bite! I buy you all your snacks anyway,” he grumbles. “… is that why you took suguru’s strawberry?” “exactly.” “but he paid for his own – “ you try to reason. “the baby tax is different, babe – i dont make the rules”

fuck. he had a point. you pout. separating yourself from him, your small strides leading the way. like a magnet, gojo catches up to you easily, standing beside you, unsure of your next move.

“only one bite.” you hesitantly say, weighing your words carefully.  “…and you still need to get your own.” he laughs with his whole body, excitedly throwing his arm over your shoulder, squeezing your frame enthusiastically.   you smirk. there he was – that was the gojo you knew.  “hehe, I knew you’d let me babe!”  his joy engulfs you, white and blinding. you can’t help but laugh along with him, you feel a bit dizzy but it’s probably from all the sugar anyway.

“ I swear it’s the best fucking matcha ice cream ever. they even have those fancy matcha drinks–“ with his arm around you gojo notices an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest, something that was previously hidden in the shadows but only now, nurtured the right conditions, it steps boldly into the light. maybe it’s the way you let him keep his arm around you until you reach the station together, pleasantly surprising him when you move closer to bask in his warmth. your relaxed shoulders moving up and down in silent laughter when you pretend not to find one of his jokes funny. either way, it hits him all at once, and almost overwhelmingly so.   he chuckles as he realises that shoko was right.

snackies!tags: @starmapz @ghost-buddies

a/n: im alive! ahhhh! jealous gojo is wild. he just wants some attention... thanks for sticking with me (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ -- super special thank you to @yung-notorious for providing feedback and suggestions and moral support for this chapter, thank you, love you, appreciate you! check out her fic, Never Lose Me! -- head image credit: Watashi ni Tenshi ga Maiorita dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

[marikos-diary]

I guess what would have once been an ED blog will do. I couldn’t think of a good name for a new diary.

So, where to begin? I’m massively upset and anxious. It feels like no one cares about me. I’ve started smoking again after months of trying not to. I don’t feel safe or secure in my apartment building because management is a joke. I am under immense stress and my anxiety is so far out of whack that I have been throwing up and having chest pain. My best friend doesn’t talk to me even when I beg her for help. My other best friend is dead. My beloved cat is dying slowly. My other cat is having litter box issues. I submitted the form to withdraw from my classes for the semester and am planning on taking a year off to get better, but if I am being honest with myself we all know it will take several years at least. So that’s fun. And miserable. I do nothing all day and am miserable because I am too anxious to actually do anything. I can’t take care of myself or the cats or the apartment due to my depression. I am supposed to clean every week on Fridays but I spent all day throwing up from anxiety so that didn’t get done. I haven’t showered or taken a bath in like two weeks. I don’t actually know how long. I did buy some bath wipes today so I will do those before bed tonight and change my underwear as well. I forgot to get dry shampoo. Shit. I guess that means my hair stays gross. As of today I am thinking of getting it all cut off so that it is easier to manage while I go through this. There’s just so much of it and it is so hard. It would bbe a haircut of necessity. But I think I need to.

Anyway. I posted on Reddit for get some showering advice and people were very helpful. That was a positive experience. But then it got overwhelming and now I want to delete the post because there are too many notifications. So I turned my phone on do not disturb. I guess I could also turn off the app notifications but then they would just be lurking in the background waiting. And I don’t know if that would be worse or not. But they do get to be a lo some times.

Boo is on my lap. She is purring and being a soothing presence. I really appreciate her so very much. I was awake crying in bed being miserable and throwing up until 4am last night. And she just hunkered down with me and licked my face and hand and stayed the entire time. And then I did finally fall asleep, thankfully, sometime after 4. I got ignored by my bff all night during my br k down but what else is new. I don know how to feel about that other than betrayed. More on that soon.

Anyway, when I woke up I was so surprised because sweet little Boo was on MY pillow. That’s where she used to sleep!!! Before the big CKD diagnosis. She did that for over 13 years every single night without fail. After going to the doctor she slept in her tower for about two weeks before she started coming to bed again. Except, instead of going on my pillow she went on the other set of pillows like a little princess. Two fluffy pillows all for her! That took some getting used to but mostly I was happy that she was back in bed with me. So she has been doing that nightly for about two months now. That was where she was when I fell asleep. Usually when I wake up she has already gotten up and is in the living room by the window. But today I opened my eyes and found hher on the pillow behind mine!!! I felt so very special. She must yavhave wanted to keep a closer eye on me after th big upset the night prior.

I don’t know what time I will go to bed tonight. It is 9:30 and I am very much still keyed up from my anxiety. Which is… not how it should be working right now. I have taken a shit ton of anxiety meds today and I should be chill.

8am- buspar

I didn’t really feel too anxious mostly depressed all day. So I didn’t take my as needed stuff until later.

8:15pm - hydroxyzine 25mg x2, buspar

That is a new one. I don’t know it does anything for me or if I need a highe dose or not. I don’t know. So I took two and waited. And then something happened and I got so anxious that I threw up and it felt like I probably puked up my meds that I had literally just taken. Si that was a bummer.

So no surprise my anxiety continued to get worse. I tried cuddling with cats, I tried having a cigarette and doing deep breathing. I tried reaching out to support groups online about what was currently troubling me. Anxiety just kept getting worse.

Which leads us to

9:30pm’- Ativan 1 mg x3

I had ten total ish left and I almost took all of them tbh it was so bad. But I wanted to be a good patient so I didn’t.

That just leaves my AP as the remaining medicine for the day. I didn’t take it yesterday and I probably should have but oh well. So I am going to at ieastbtai a half dose tonight.

The building is quieting down which is nice. I can only ever hear people when they are in the hallways, but it is VERY loud when I hear that. It’s awful. I haven’t heard anyone coming or going in maybe an hour at this point. I’m finally starting to relax. It’s nice.

My stomach is still upset though. I was throwing up bile all morning and afternoon and didn’t eat until like 5pm. I’m not like queasy or anything but I can tell my body wants to throw up again. I should probably eat more.

I don’t see myself going to bed any time soon. I was up until 4am last night being upset, and then spent most of today upset. I’d like to have at least a little fun or do something enjoyable. Listen to my favorite podcast maybe. Watch the next episode of the Expanse. I could do that one in bed too which could be very nice and cozy.

I don’t super want to get on an opposite schedule because I like seeing the Burger King ladies in the morning. And I’d like to have some type of a normal life while I recover and heal. But maybe it would be okay just for this weekend. Or at least just for tonight. If I could do something fun and stay up late doing that.

I did plug in my white noise machine last night and left it on ever since. It is kind of helping. It drowns out some of the hallway noise.

I just checked and it is 64 degrees so I went ahead and turned off the ac and opened the bedroom window so that it will be nice and chilly in there when I do lay down. Whenever that is. It could be in an hour, it could be in five hours. But it should be nice and chilly in there and then I will b so warm and cozy. That sounds very nice.

Or, I could stay up until like 8 or 9 and still get to see the Burger King ladies by going as soon as they open. If I stay up that long then I’d have to work to not fuck yo my entire sleep schedule super bad. But I would get to see the morning sparkles from my sun catchers. I don’t think I would make it to 8am so that feels unlikely but it is a nice thought.

So. I got off track. But it was a nice deviation into more pleasant topics.

I guess I want to vent about Charlie but like. Idk. I’m pretty upset about it but I literally only just calmed down like within the past twenty minutes. So maybe I will save that for another time.

I kind of want to go be cozy in bed but I still feels like u am going to throw up so idk. I should probably eat something healthy. But I don’tbfeel capable of that. I du have mini bags of Doritos. So I guess I will do one of those.

Good night maybe. Probably not but maybe.

[idk3453]

Mafia

Hey guys! So this is my first fanfiction ever! I've never written a Fan Fic before but I was inspired to start the series! This Fan Fic will have everything, action, drama, Smut, romance and the whole nine yards! I hope you guys enjoy the first chapter! Chapter 2 will also be uploaded today!

Synopsis: Elvis Presley, notorious mafia leader of Memphis, Tennessee has the town on their feet. Fear, power, money and women surround him and his Memphis mafia. But what happens when one day you stumble into his world? And he makes you fall in love with him? 

Chapter 1: Welcome to my world 

    News reporter: “ John, Memphis crime has skyrocketed since the reign of Elvis Presley, notorious leader to the Memphis Mafia. Buildings have been demolished along with it citizens creating a curfew which starts at 9pm just to protect themselves, I’m here now in front of… 

You reach for the remote and turn off the TV. It’s currently 8pm and you sigh thinking about all the things you could be doing right now. Like going out, looking up at the stars, hell just anything! But noooo, Elvis Presley had to come and cause havoc and ruin everything! You grab your pillow and scream into it. Just the thought of this man made you mad. you didn't even know what the man looks like! Its always a secrecy with him. He has ruined normality for you. You haven’t gone out for what felt like years. You haven’t seen your friends for what felt like months! You’ve been communicating mainly though telephone but that’s not enough. You continue to stare at the ceiling, then look at your alarm clock. 8:15pm is glowing in red neon lights. Taking a deep breath you decide maybe if you snuck out you’d be back before curfew. “ I mean what’s the worst that can happen” you thought. 

You got up from the bed, combed your h/c hair, letting it down for tonight. You start to retouch your makeup, add some blush, a little bit of mascara, along with some red lipstick. “Not bad” you say, as you head to the closet to look for something more risqué for tonight. As you’re rummaging through your closet you find the perfect black dress. It had huge cut outs on the sides, and the skirt sat right above your mid thigh, what's holding this piece together is a huge ring right in the middle. You looked in the mirror and smiled with delight. You paired it with matching black heeled boots and you were ready to take on the town. 

Opening the window to your room, you feel the wind hit your skin. “Come on y/n, no turning back now” you say, as you make your way out of the window. “Freedom” you sigh. Making your way past the bushes and past the gate. You give your home one last look, before making your way to Beale Street. 

Beale street tonight was filled with flashing lights and music, you couldn’t help but smile, "finally something of normality," you thought. Your heels were clicking as you make your way towards the music. “Club Handy?, alright let’s see what tonight has to offer” you say, making your way inside. You take notice of every detail, people dancing, drinks were flying left and right, as if their troubles and worries were non existent. As if there isn’t a curfew that began at 9… “shut up, y/n” you shake the thought out of your head and began to make your way towards the bar. 

You sat down on one of the bar stools, and look at the menu. The assortments were listed from, Whiskey, Bloody Mary, to The Manhattan. All of which didn’t appeal to you in the slightest. 

“Excuse me, bartender?” You say

The bartender turns around and flashes you a smile. 

“What can I get you doll?” He said with a smirk on his face. It took every ounce of you not to throw up in front of him. “ Doll?!, who does he think he is” you thought. 

Instead you shake off the nerve to slap him and flash him a fake smile “I’d like the sweetest drink you got, Mr..” you squint your eyes scanning for his name. “Red” 

The bartender looks you up and down and says “Anything for you doll” he winks and left. 

As the bartender prepares your drink, you check out the club some more. People were dancing in the center stage. Bodies sweating, people smiling, the music being so hypnotic you couldn’t help but cross your legs one in front of the other and let your left heel tap to the rhythm. You notice the booths on your right was also filled with men wearing business suits, black shades framing their faces and many women surrounding them, giggling at their jokes. “Hmmm, must be business men” you thought. 

Red brings you your drink and you chug its entirety. “Wow that was strong” you said. “Thank you, I made it special for you” the bartender said. You turn around and face him. “So, can I get the pretty girls name” He whispers, hands on both ends of the bar table. You smile, your right hand grabs his tie pulling him in close to your face. Your lips makes its way towards his ear and you say “that’s none of your concern” letting him go, as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Chuckling to your self, you hear the song choice that's playing now , it was slow and sensual, you felt the music begin to take you away. Swaying your hips, your hands start to roam your body. And in that moment the fear and stress you cared for had disappeared. But little did you know someone was watching your every move. 

“And then I said you watch your mouth, and pulled out this bad boy, firing a warning sh… hey boss? You okay?” Says Lamar, 

His boss couldn’t help but gaze at the woman dancing just 3 feet away from him. Carefree, sensual, you wouldn’t mind her riding…. Lamar cut off your thoughts, "Hello! Earth to EP?!, Hey are you okay! Waving his hand in front of his bosses face.

He sends him a death glare, slamming the table with full force. “DAMN IT, LAMAR, DONT EVER INTERRUPT MY THOUGHTS GOT IT!” 

He barked at Lamar, the rage he carried was evident, he didn’t want anybody to bother him.

Lamar gulps nervously, “Ss-s-s-s… orryyyy b-b-b-boss, won’t happen again” the other men watched as Lamar shook in fear. 

The boss playing with his pinky ring, which was decorated in gold and covered in diamonds, spelling out EP. 

“Damn right, it wont” he hissed pointed at Lamar. 

For you see, his boss wasn’t just any regular boss, No, his boss was none other than the notorious mafia leader Elvis Presley. Tonight, the Mafia was going to pay a visit to someone who owed them payments which hasn’t been completed. Jerry, one of Elvis’s most trusted mafia members, suggested why not go to the club they owned Club Handy, bring some girls over, have some fun, and get the night started. Elvis smirked, patting Jerry on the back saying "let’s do it." So, when Elvis and his members got to their respected booths, they began to order drinks and the girls were flowing. The night was about to commence, that was until Elvis spotted you from a far dancing sensually. 

He made a mental note of every detail about you, your hair, your smile, your moves, everything. As he kept watching you, he couldn’t help but manspread just a little, letting room for his dick to breathe. As your thoughts were running wild, Lamar had the audacity to interrupt them. Popping that image he had of you. He couldn’t care less about his stories about firing the warning shot at the man, He wants you there with him. He wanted no one to have you. You were his to fill every desire. Even if you didn’t realize it. 

Elvis soon turned back around, taking a swig of his whiskey, feeling the hot liquid run down his throat. As Elvis brought down his drink he noticed the woman was now gone. He pushes the woman next to him, "Hey!! what's the matter with you?" the woman yelled but Elvis didn't care he gets out of the booth and ran outside looking for you. Turning left and right, he spots you walking fast, “found you lil mama” and he begins to chase her down. 

“Ughh, why did I decide to wear heels” y/n says and making her way towards her home. You walk 5 blocks before making a halt, the woman turned around looking to see if anybody was following her. Once she sees the cost is clear she began to walk faster towards her home. 

Elvis on the other hand was hiding behind a post. He peaks to see you’ve turned around, and spotted you made it home. Smirking he decides to stand where the light isn’t hitting his face but his body showed. 

“Welcome, to my world lil mama” 

Sensing a vibration hit his left leg, he reached for it noticing his pager sending a message. 

“EP, where are you?! It’s showtime! ~ Jerry” 

Let the games begin, he chucked. 

“Finally, made it!” Y/N says as she locks her window, still she couldn’t help but notice someone standing towards the lamp post, watching her from a far, as they leave the premises. 

So that is the end of Chapter 1! what do we think? Chapter 2 will be uploaded tonight as well!

I wanna thank the besties @natipooxx, @erutluve, @plasticfantasticl0ver !!! Love you guys so much!

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

A STUDY IN YOU, chapter twelve

table of contents | talk to me & join the tag list | the playlist

January 15th, 2019

Your trip home for the holidays was uneventful. Cousins and aunts and uncles came to your parents’ house and you enjoyed sitting by the fire sipping red wine for a whole four days before you wound up back in New York. 

Some country air always did you good, but the excitement of returning to your final semester at NYU, your first semester actually getting paid to write a TV show, and the excitement about your night with Jason before the winter break had you smiling like an idiot on the tarmac at JFK. 

You were only back for a few days before you ended up at Max’s fancy apartment, Sophie and Naomi with you on the floor as Max scrolled through Netflix. 

“Any word from Professor Daddy yet?”

“That’s the world’s worst nickname ever,” you looked up at Sophie. “But no.”

“Nothing?” Max asked, a pout on his face.

“Well, I haven’t had a reason to see him.”

“Good sex isn’t a reason?” Sophie’s head tilted.

You’d wondered, a few times, what would happen if you texted him and asked him to hang out. Grab dinner or a drink or something else that two people who were casually hooking up or hanging out might do. Each time you typed a text you deleted it, clicking your phone shut and coming to the conclusion that you didn’t want to push it. 

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “I’ve thought about texting him.”

Naomi smiled and looked up from her phone. “And what might you say?”

“Wanna come over and fuck me?” Max giggled.

“Come eat me out,” Sophie purred. “That’s what I’d text him.”

“We know,” Naomi rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t think you need an excuse,” Max said. “You can just say hi.”

The glass of wine you’d already had made it sound like a better idea than it was. You picked up your phone and Max bounced excitedly. 

“I’m just picking it up,” you giggled. 

“When was the last time you saw him?” Naomi asked. “That party at his place?”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Whoa--what’s the smile about?” Sophie leaned forward. “Did you hook up?”

It grew now, from ear to ear when you hid your face. “No.”

“Wow,” Max made a face. “Such great acting.”

Naomi looked at you with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“I slept over.”

“What?” Sophie shrieked, standing up when her mouth hung open. “After his party? You slept there?! In his bed?!”

“Yes,” you confessed, still laughing when Max shook his head and smirked. 

“You’ve got it bad,” he said.

“No I don’t,” you defended. 

“You think it’s just sex?” Naomi asked. 

“I don’t know,” you looked at her, suddenly freaked out. “I try to ignore those thoughts.”

“Why?” She asked seriously.

“Cause now it’s our last semester and--I don’t know. I don’t want to get my hopes up just to have it fizzle after we graduate.”

They all nodded sympathetically at this, but then you smiled. 

“Should I text him?”

“Duh!” Sophie shouted. 

So you opened your phone and stared at the thread. Another swig of wine for confidence before you pressed send. 

Y/N L/N (8:03pm): Got any good movie recs?

Sure, something you borrowed from Jennie ironically. Only a few minutes before a reply. 

Jason Sudeikis (8:09pm): Depends what you’re in the mood for. 

Y/N L/N (8:11pm): I’m with Sophie, Max, and Naomi so something that will magically please all of us!

Y/N L/N (8:11pm): If that’s possible haha

Jason Sudeikis (8:12pm): They seem like a picky bunch lol

Y/N L/N (8:13pm): We’ll probably just settle on a rom com

Jason Sudeikis (8:13pm): Can’t go wrong with that

Jason Sudeikis (8:13pm): How was your trip home?

Y/N L/N (8:15pm): Good! Short and sweet, glad to be back though!

Y/N L/N (8:15pm): How was your Christmas?

Jason Sudeikis (8:19pm): It was nice, saw some family, nothing crazy.

Naomi smirked when the conversation took a turn for the personal, the only one ballsy enough to ask the question that everyone was wondering. 

“Y/N--do you, like, have feelings for him?”

You blinked a few times, your lips were parted but you knew that saying no would make them roll their eyes and disregard your answer. Instead, you shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Sophie asked, her tone more curious than judgmental.

“Hooking up with him is fun,” you nodded. “And I feel like now sometimes we hang out afterwards so it’s not just, like--”

“Fucking?” Max smiled. 

“Yeah, that.” They were quiet for a minute, smiling and nodding and looking at each other until you decided you didn’t like the way they were smirking. “What?”

Max stood and went to find the bottle of wine. “We knew this was going to happen.”

“That what would happen?”

“That you’d end up into him or something. I mean--feelings are what happen once you sleep over.”

“No, no, no,” you disagreed with Max. “I don’t know if it’ll ever be anything more than a fun fling which is fine by me.”

“A memorable grad school experience,” Naomi shrugged. 

“Exactly.”

Sophie was on the couch now, her knees pulled to her chest when she reached into a bag of candy. “You wouldn’t date him?”

“Maybe,” you said honestly. “But that’s definitely against the rules.”

“Rules, ha!” Max laughed. “Says the girl who slept over her professor’s house.”

“I didn’t plan on that,” you defended. “I didn’t plan on any of this.”

More vulnerable now when Naomi smiled at you. “It’s okay if you like him.”

“Is it?” You asked her, subtly referencing your two idiot friends who would probably shout it from the rooftop if you admitted it. 

“Liking him and doing something about it are two different things,” Naomi shrugged. 

You sat there for a second, stared at the texts from him on your phone. There was no denying it at this point. Sophie wasn’t sitting around texting her advisor and Max wasn’t hooking up with his. Naomi was too smart to ever wind up in a situation like this.

Lines had been crossed and sleeping with him had you itching to do it again sometime soon. The only question, now, was if you were stupid enough to keep going.

Some days you woke up and wanted to. Some mornings you had a pep in your step as you walked through midtown and drank an expensive coffee that you couldn’t really afford.

Other days you wondered if it would be better to ignore his texts, ghost him altogether outside of the work context to avoid what felt like a runaway train. 

It was risky enough to be sleeping with your professor and it was even riskier to start thinking along the lines of what if. You hadn’t meant to fall so far down the rabbit hole that you couldn’t even see the sky anymore, but when you texted him that night up until you fell asleep, you knew you were pretty far gone.

January 17th, 2019

The same conference room in the same building in Midtown. Water bottles on the table and snacks in the corner, you smiled at the others when you walked in after the holidays. Two and a half weeks since you’d seen him. Not as bad as last summer but just as unknown. 

You were sure this time it wouldn’t take as long for either of you to find your rhythm, especially seeing as before Christmas you woke up in his bed and slid into a booth across from him at a diner down the street.

No conversation about what it meant or why it was happening, just hash browns and coffee and a platonic goodbye when you stood on his front step. 

Now he glanced up when you walked into the room, a baseball hat on his head for your first day back. He was always dressed down to write, never as formal as his button-down white shirts and ties that seemed to be his campus uniform. 

You greeted Dan and Jennie before Javier threw a toy-sized basketball in your direction. 

“Y/N--fix our issue. If Shawn cheats on Natalie, who would it be with?”

“Oh with Claire, one-hundred-percent,” you shrugged. “They’ve already got chemistry.”

“Thank you,” Jason pointed at you. “Thank you for making it obvious that Javier is crazy for thinking it would be with Gretchen.”

You tossed the basketball into the tiny plastic hoop that someone had put on the door, an easy shot. You crinkled your nose. “Gretchen and Shawn would never have sex.”

“I agree,” Jason said, looking at Javier. 

“Man, you’d agree with anything she said right now,” Javier laughed. 

Jason tensed at that, sat up. “No I wouldn’t.”

“You just want to prove me wrong,” Javier reached over and slapped Jason’s knee. You watched him exhale, almost like he’d been holding his breath. 

He looked at you briefly, close call. 

The day was mostly one of ideas, more post-its and spitballing back and forth. Finally, at 5pm, everyone decided they didn’t have a late night in them when Dan got a phone call.

You scribbled down one last idea that you wanted to let marinate overnight, tucked your notebook in your bag and replaced the cap on your water bottle.

Jason looked up at you but kept his voice quiet, the others still packed up. “Hey, Y/N, do you have a second?”

Jennie smiled but waved, left you alone with him in the conference room once Javier and Dan put on their coats. Their laughter was audible down the hall until the elevator doors shut. 

“What’s up?” You asked, noticeably less nervous than when he’d said things like this before. A level of comfort, almost, when he smiled.

“I wanted to let you know that I spoke with Charlie again and they finalized your contract. He said it should be in your inbox soon, but, just a heads up.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. “I appreciate you going to bat for me.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I can’t guarantee you’ll get rich off of this, but, hopefully it’s a good first gig.”

You smiled at his joke, adjusted your bag on your shoulder.

“Are you heading home?”

He smiled up at you, waited a second before he asked: “are you asking because you want to come with me?”

You smirked a little, tried your best to play it cool. “I was just curious.”

“I was, yeah,” he nodded, stood to pack his laptop into his bag. “After a pleasant ride on the subway.”

“Well I’m also heading home,” you nodded. “Might even be taking the same train.”

He smiled, walked with you out into the night and then down below street level to catch the subway. A crowded train, commuters and a whole variety of passengers as your knee bumped into his and the train rounded a corner. 

You turned to see him when your stop was next. He smirked a little. “We need to have a meeting soon.”

“A meeting?”

“An advisor/advisee meeting,” he clarified. “Degree audit, go over final semester stuff.”

“I didn’t know if that was code for something,” you said quietly with a raise of your eyebrows, met his eyes for a second when you leaned closer. 

He laughed, reached his hand forward to find yours. He held onto it for a second but then laughed and let it go. You hoped he couldn’t hear your heartbeat.

When he brought his eyes up to yours, he shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to turn that type of meeting down.”

You laughed a little, the train screeched and stopped and you stood. He stayed seated, kept your gaze.

“That’s very good to know.”

“I’ll see you on Wednesday?”

You nodded, took a page from his book when the doors slid open. “You will.”

January 28th, 2019

The Winter Showcase was a glorified student exhibit that the Kanbar Institute of Film put on every spring semester. 

Students submitted their films or shorts or documentaries, a screening was held, they served wine and had poorly executed cheese boards. It was a good excuse to dress up and drink free Cabernet and mingle with other students or faculty in the department. 

It also happened to fall on the evening of Max’s birthday, which he complained about until he had a glass in hand.

“I guess this isn’t the world’s worst pre-game,” he looked around the room, surprised by the attendance numbers. 

“Jesus, who are all these people?” Sophie made a face. “I thought it was going to be dead.”

“You wanted it to be boring?” Naomi asked.

“Then we would have gone to a bar sooner,” she admitted, a sideways glance at you when your eyes fell on Jason in the corner.

He stood next to Marina and sipped from a small plastic glass. Sophie nudged you but you ignored it when Max waded further into the crowd. 

You got drinks, took sips and hovered on the outside: who should we talk to, where should we stand? The screenings had been fine, didn’t feel crowded in the theater like it did in the atrium space of the fancy lecture hall for the obligatory mingling post films.

They were distracted enough to not notice when he saw you. He smiled a little, nodded in your direction when Marina noticed, let’s go say hi.

So they came and joined your group, let their plastic cups clink against yours when Sophie informed: “Max is finally thirty!”

“Don’t rub it in,” he glanced at her sideways, rolled his eyes when both Marina and Jason smiled at the news. 

“Today’s his birthday,” you looked up at Jason and filled in some of the blanks. “But he���s having a hard time with that.”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “I would, admittedly, be having less hard of a time if we didn’t have to be on campus right now.”

“Yeah, this is the worst place to celebrate your thirtieth birthday,” Marina looked around the atrium, grimaced a little when she met your eyes. She was around Jason’s age—you think you’d heard him mention that. 

She was bold and funny and a diehard feminist. She’d famously encouraged a guy in your documentary class first year to make a film on tampons. Now, she crossed her arms and smiled at Max.

“What does the rest of the night entail then, for the big three-oh?”

“Not O’Halloran’s,” Max held up a finger, a threatening glance in your direction. 

“Why are you looking at me when you say that?” You laughed.

“You love that place,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah—on a Tuesday night,” you shot back.

You wouldn’t dare expect Max to spend his birthday at O’Halloran’s. This time, when the group chat attempted to solidify plans, Max’s requests were simple: Pineapple Club, brunch on Saturday with his other friends that were coming into town. 

You turned to Jason and Marina to let them in on your plans. “Pineapple Club tonight, after this--obviously not O’Halloran’s.”

“Obviously,” Marina smiled at Max. 

“Pineapple Club is one of my favorite spots,” Jason nodded, letting Max in or something you already knew. “Great atmosphere--great gin and tonic.”

“You guys should totally come,” Max smiled, a palm towards the sky when your eyes darted over to Jason’s. “And Will and Jesse wherever they are,” he looked around the room for your other professors, they had to be here somewhere. 

“Jesse’s birthday was yesterday,” Marina looked around the room. “And we actually were going to go grab a drink after this,” she admitted when she looked up at Jason. 

His lips fought the smile on his face, the confession that their plans this evening aligned with yours sent a wave of excitement through Max and Sophie. Naomi, on the other hand, smiled in your direction when you bit your tongue. 

“Oh my god, you have to come to Pineapple Club,” Sophie looked at them. 

“You don’t have to come to Pineapple Club,” you gave them an out. 

Sophie smacked you on the arm. “They can come out if they want to.”

You looked at Marina, offered an apologetic smile as if to tell her no, you don’t have to listen to my friend. 

“One drink wouldn’t kill us,” she shrugged, glanced toward Jason for his input. “Might help keep us young, honestly.”

He nodded, which is how you ended up on a velvet couch in Pineapple Club with him on the other side of a glass coffee table. 

Max sipped his second cocktail of the night, laughed when Will and Sophie made jokes about his age. He thrived being the center of attention, Sophie was drunk enough to get wrapped up in the commotion of the night and the dim lighting, and Naomi was invested in a conversation with Marina and a classmate Max had invited. 

You sipped your vodka soda through a tiny straw, met his eyes when you both realized the same thing: now was your chance. 

You glanced around the group, made sure no one would notice when you stood and headed for the hallway off to the left between chairs and thick curtains. 

You brought your drink with you, rounded the corner and waited a few seconds until he appeared, a smirk on his face when he approached. 

“Hey,” he greeted. 

“Hi,” you said, “I’m sorry you guys got corralled into this.” 

“What?” He laughed. “I didn’t know a night with me was so tortuous for you.”

“Oh come on, you think it’s normal that Max made you guys come?”

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged, didn’t want to say more and risk exposing the truth: they know, he knows, oops.

“I think the least normal part is that I plan on getting you into my bed tonight but I don’t know how to be smooth about it,” he admitted, a little bit of a smile when you looked back over your shoulder.

“Your bed?” You let your eyes get wide when you giggled. “In Brooklyn?”

“I guess yours is only a few blocks from here,” he relented. 

“Hey,” Marina rounded the corner, scanning for the bathroom when her eyes settled on the two of you. Jason took a step back, smiled at her when you turned around to find her.

“Hey,” you said.

“I thought the bathroom was back here,” she looked further down the dark hallway.

“Behind him,” you pointed, his shoulder was blocking the silhouette on the door.

She met Jason’s eyes for a second, smiled but then dipped inside when he turned back to see you. 

“Text me your address,” he said quietly. “If you want to.”

You smiled at his hesitance, always careful to make sure you were okay with all of this. He never wanted to push and never wanted to make you uncomfortable. 

You opened your phone, typed it quickly in a message to him and pressed send. Marina came out and walked back to the group with the two of you in tow. Another round of drinks before Max decided to dance in the middle of the room and that’s when Sophie--of all people--decided it was time to go home. 

Naomi and Marina caught the same train, Will and Jesse climbed into an uber when Jason pretended to wait for one. Apparently, the tables had turned.

Sophie rolled her eyes when Max gave you a hug, their car pulled up to the curb. 

“Alright, go home and drink some water,” you told Max. Jason stifled a laugh from a few feet behind you. Luckily neither of them had teased you too much tonight--they didn’t seem to notice that now you and Jason would be the only two left on the sidewalk outside Pineapple Club.

“I’m thirty, I don’t need water,” Max dismissed. 

“Usually means you need more water,” Jason reminded.

“Oh whatever,” he waved his hand again once he let go of you. 

“Let me know when you’re home,” you said to Sophie, a quick hug when she tried to push Max further into the car. He was already greeting the driver, too friendly for his own good after the fourth cocktail.

“Ditto,” she said, “unless you’re--” she waved a hand over at Jason, a quick smile when she caught herself. “Going elsewhere.”

“Goodnight,” you said quickly, waving to them when she finally pulled the door shut. You turned, a knot in your stomach when you looked up at Jason.

His eyebrows were arched but he didn’t look angry. A beat on top of the gum-stained cement before he broke: “So how much does she know?”

“About what?”

Unimpressed, he had to choke back a laugh. “You expect me to think that you didn’t tell Sophie anything? I’ve seen the way the two of you text during class like you’re passing notes.”

He fell into step beside you when you took off for your neighborhood, two blocks down, one left. 

“I didn’t tell her everything.”

“How worried about my job do I need to be?”

“Not worried,” you shook your head quickly. “They’ll be quiet.”

“They?!” He laughed, “as in plural?” Now you laughed. He shook his head when he smiled down at you. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N!”

You reached for his arm, laughed when he shook his head in doubt. “It’s fine,” you reassured, your hand trailed down to his, fingers laced automatically. “They know that we’re…hooking up.”

“Hooking up,” he nodded, like he agreed that this was a good label. “And what do they think about that?”

“They actually love it,” you nodded.

“Even Naomi?”

“Even Naomi.”

He was surprised now, it was clear on his face when you giggled. “Shocking,” you admitted.

“Shocking that they’re into it,” he clarified. “Not shocking in the slightest that you spilled the beans.”

He kept your hand in his, laughed like there wasn’t an invisible barrier between you made up of diplomas and assignments and the placard on his door that had gold lettering: Dr. Sudeikis.

He turned left onto your street, teased you when you rummaged through your bag for your keys. 

What do you keep in there? He asked, everything you own?

He followed you inside, shut the door behind himself, the smirk on his face was a dead giveaway: this wasn’t his first rodeo.

“Well that was incredibly difficult,” he nodded, watched as you hung your jacket in the closet by the door. 

“What was?”

He smirked before the words even left his mouth, like he knew the way it’d make your pulse quicken when his lips pulled up. “Not touching you all night.”

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him, he moved to lean against the counter. “Good to know that getting a few drinks in you makes you more into me.”

You heard the words come out of your mouth but couldn’t catch them: into you. Was he? Or did he just like seeing you naked and desperate for his touch? 

Maybe you were just one of a few or even one of many. Whatever it was on his face that night sparked the same desire that had been growing over the last few months: one of one sounded a lot nicer.

But he didn’t seem to mind your fumble, a smile when he took a few steps closer. “Drunk, out at a bar with you,” he shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about what I want to do to you since we left campus.”

Which was all it took for you to walk up to him and close the space between you. You let your arms wrap around his neck, lips against his when he smiled.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up, spun around until he put you on the counter. 

His hands already tugged at your shirt, fingers meeting your skin once the layer was shed. It went like that until you made your way to the bed, he had his way with you on top of your sheets and then he pushed your hair behind your ear. Laying there naked with him, post-sex, felt comfortable and safe and that made your heart swell. And then it deflated with thoughts of graduation.

“You’re pretty,” he said quietly, lips turned up into a smile when he kept his eyes on your face.

You let your eyebrows crawl up your forehead, he’d never been so straightforward and genuine without a thread of fear in his words.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

He rolled onto his back, opened his arm for you to crawl inside and lay on his chest. You watched him fall asleep, wondering how on earth you’d find your way out of this.

February 10th, 2019

Naomi sat across from you at a table in the library, she let out a deep exhale when you glanced up to see her eyes moving across her screen quickly. 

“Y/N,” she said your name, still staring at her laptop until she looked up at you. “My doc got chosen for the student showcase in Cannes.”

“No it didn’t,” you leaned forward and let your eyes bug out, voice still a whisper to respect the third floor’s quiet zone. 

Students and backpacks and laptops. Water bottled sprinkled the table tops and Naomi smiled.

“Yes it did,” she laughed. “Oh my fucking god,” she leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath. 

“Naomi, this is amazing, you’re so talented and this is so deserved!”

A flurry of texts in the group chat when she told Max and Sophie. 

Naomi Halter (3:15pm): MY FILM GOT CHOSEN FOR CANNES

Max Prescott (3:16pm): FUCK YES NAOMI!

Sophie Mendez (3:16pm): LET’S FUCKING GO BITCH

Y/N L/N (3:17pm): how fucking insane!!!!

Y/N L/N (3:17pm): we are in the library btw

Max Prescott (3:18pm): So this means we are all going, right? Pre-graduation trip?

Sophie Mendez (3:19pm): OMG WE HAVE TO

Sophie Mendez (3:19pm): CANNES TAKE TWO!!!!

You smiled at their excitement but felt the wheels turning. A flight to France? Expensive. A hotel in Cannes? Expensive. You’d already shelled out a good chunk of change on last year’s trip, with some help from your parents to get yourself over the finish line. 

With the money you were now making it’d be easier, but you knew the cost of the school trip was cheaper than it’d cost to do it on your own. 

More texts in the group:

Sophie Mendez (3:22pm): Flights are around $1500

Naomi Halter (3:22pm): You guys totally don’t have to come, I know it’s expensive

Max Prescott (3:23pm): I’m not missing this! 

Fuck. Fifteen hundred for a flight? You could share a hotel to cut costs but you were already nervous about making it work. You didn’t have money like Max and hadn’t been working like Sophie had since undergrad as a bartender. 

You didn’t have the heart to burst Naomi’s bubble when you walked with her through campus that same afternoon. She sipped an iced coffee and smiled ear to ear when you made your way closer to Luft. 

“What’s your afternoon entail?” She asked from behind sunglasses, still floating on cloud nine. 

“Meeting with Jason, actually--about school stuff.”

You felt like the disclaimer was necessary now, felt like they always suspected something sexual when his name came up in conversation. She smirked a little, you rolled your eyes when you slowed in front of the steps. 

You weren’t ready yet to let it slip that he knew: he knew that they knew and if they all knew that he knew that, you figured the already blurred lines and the already messy situation would grow to a size that felt beyond control. 

Naomi promised to catch up with you later, she pressed her phone to her ear when she walked away: mom, I have really exciting news!

And you did have a meeting scheduled with him, the second week of the semester and already time to make sure your final semester would be smooth sailing. It’d been a while since you’d had to wait outside for him to finish with another student, but you leaned against the wall and bit into an apple, scrolled on instagram to pass the time until they wrapped up.

The door was open, you could hear him talking with a girl--who you thought you recognized to have been in one of Max’s short films--about her classes this semester. He answered her questions and then updated a few things on his computer.

She saw you when she walked out, smiled politely and passed you in the hallway when you knocked on the doorframe. 

He looked up, smiled like he knew it was you just by the sound of your knuckles against the wood. 

“Hi,” you said, a step inside. 

He glanced over your shoulder to ensure the last student was far enough down the hall. “You can shut it if you want.”

You did, came to sit across from him when he pulled something up on his computer. 

“How’s your semester going so far?” He asked with a playful smile, a quick glance in your direction when he typed in your name. 

“Is this how you start these meetings?”

“Mmmm, no,” he shook his head, stifled a laugh when he leaned back in his chair and met your eyes now. “Typically I don’t already know the answer to that question.”

“Right,” you laughed. 

“I do have some news though,” he sat up straight now and looked at his computer. “Your degree audit is showing you’ll be one credit behind at the end of the semester.”

You blinked at him a few times, unsure why he was delivering this so casually. 

“I’ll be what?”

“Behind,” he repeated, he clicked something and read it to himself, nodded when he looked back up at you. 

“No, no, no,” you waved him off, sure he’d made a mistake. “Check again.”

“It’s right here,” he laughed a little, pointed to his computer. “Do you want to come look?”

You stared at him, blinked a few times as you let the information settle in your brain. He twisted his laptop around a bit, pointed at the screen when you started to panic.

“Well, so, how do I get the one credit? I can’t graduate late--I mean, Charlie said that my spot on the team is conditional upon completion of degree requirements,” you stood up now, shook your head as you started to pace in his office. 

“You can do an independent study,” he shrugged. “You’d have to find and ask a professor to supervise that and get it approved by Dean Vasquez. But that’s what most people do, so, you’ll be okay.”

“An independent study on what, though?” You looked at him like he was crazy. Apparently he couldn’t relate to the stress of potentially not graduating after thinking you were perfectly on pace to do so in only a few short months. 

“You get to choose,” he said this with furrowed brows, confused by your question.

“I know that,” you said quickly, frustration getting the best of you when you made a face. 

He laughed a little, stood from his desk and came around to lean on the front of it. “This is why we do degree audits,” he reminded. “So people like you can panic now instead of in April.”

You shot him a dirty look when he laughed at his own joke. He reached for your hand and took it in his for a second when he tugged you closer. 

“If you ask nicely, I’ll help you brainstorm.”

You took a deep breath, stared up at him for a second when he dropped your hand. He chuckled to himself, went to sit at his desk when he realized he wasn’t going to make you laugh that easily. 

“Well I can’t TA for you, I already did that.”

“Right.”

“And I’m not writing another script, I can’t focus on that when I need to focus on ours right now.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “How about a short film?”

You thought about it for a second. “That’ll take so much time and effort for just one credit.”

“A lot of times they approve papers for one credit. Like, you can watch a film and critique it in a 10-page paper and they’ll give you the credit.”

You were quiet now, nodding as you went through the mental rolodex of films you knew well enough to critique without rewatching. With your internship and classes and now the script practically full time, you wanted something easy.

“We’ll figure it out,” he nodded, the look on his face was sincere, like he wanted to reassure you but didn’t really know how. 

“I know,” you said, a sigh when you nodded again. “I just thought I was the one with news today.”

He smirked at that. “What’s your news?”

“Naomi’s doc got selected for the student showcase in Cannes.”

“It did?” His eyes got wide. “Holy shit, that’s incredible!”

“She’s over the moon,” you smiled, a theatrical eye roll when you pouted. “At least she’ll get to graduate.”

He laughed at that, rolled his eyes at your antics and sighed. “You’ll graduate, Y/N.”

“Hey,” you looked up at him quickly, wheels turning.

“Hi...” he waited for you to keep going, a skeptical look in his eyes. 

“What if I come to Cannes?”

His forehead wrinkled. You’d lost him. “Why would you come?”

“Well Naomi’s gonna go, obviously. Max and Sophie are already looking at flights--something about it being a pre-graduation trip. You’re going again, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, the corner of his mouth lifted towards the ceiling when he tried to get the full picture. “But I don’t get where this fits into everything.”

“For my independent study.”

He shook his head slowly. “The Cannes trip can’t be your independent study.” 

“Well not if I don’t produce something to earn the grade it can’t be,” you challenged. “But if I go as a chaperone, or if I go and write a critique on a film there, or--”

“You can’t chaperone a trip when you’re a student.”

“Okay so I’ll write a stupid paper! I’ll help in the planning. I will do anything to go on that trip and get my stupid credit.”

He smiled at that, couldn’t help but crack one more joke: “...anything?”

“I’m already sleeping with you,” you raised your eyebrows. “What else do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” he relented, a pause when he leaned back in his chair again. “I’ll think about the Cannes thing.”

“Okay, perfect,” you stood, grabbed your bag from the floor and nodded. 

“We’re not done,” he watched with a slight smile when you headed for the door. 

“Can we finish later?”

“What?” He laughed again.

“I’ve got to go,” you shrugged, turned around to see him. “I’ve gotta talk to Sophie and Max and see if they’re actually gonna get to Cannes in May.”

He shook his head, the look on his face told you he liked the way you smiled at him when you fluttered your eyelashes. 

“You’ll see me later,” you shrugged. “I promise.”

tag list: @sheerangermany @clarebearr @tedlassostan @hart-kinsella @kahluamystery97 @airplanes924 @trulymadlykiki @thisismysecondrodeo @mypugsley @jng4kook @msolbesg @stankface @ljej95 @ivetastedbloodanditissweet @pascal-reyes @paola-carter @rubberduckingaro @golden-hoax @ccbb2222 @caplikeme @outofthecradlex @mackenzmeme @reann-shitposting @very-berry-harry @winter-soldier-007 @tinydeskwriter @femmel90 @shawnsblue @iwanttogoeverywhereplease @sillyeverydays

AN: Hi friends! Sorry it took a while to update/post this chappie. As you know I put a lot of care into my stories and so sometimes life gets in the way of me sitting down to write/edit/post/etc. Also, putting it out there now to help everyone PREP.....this story will end when MC graduates. So if it's the start of her last semester...the end isn't toooooo far away 😅🤠😈

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part I

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings; Rating: Minor angst at the end; General

Premise: Ethan and MC are living in a honeymoon bliss and going about their normal routine. Then something happens that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: New series comin' at ya! This is my first time writing fluff, so please excuse me if it's cringey 😅 Thank you to @choiceskatie for pre-reading!! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 7:00am ~

“Good morning, handsome.”

Serena walks up to an omelette-making Ethan, wraps her arms around his waist, and places a gentle kiss on his shoulder blade.

Ethan places one hand over hers, a smile spreading across his face, while the other wields a spatula.

He plates the omelette, turns the stove off, and turns in Serena’s arms to face her. He tightly envelops her, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

“Good morning, indeed,” he smiles.

“Mmm, that’s my line,” she says, her hands moving leisurely up his bare chest, and her eyes trailing hungrily over his gym-honed physique.

Ethan lets out a hearty chuckle, turning slightly to grab their breakfast.

“As much as I’d love to take you back to bed," he gives her a quick peck, "you have a big day ahead of you, so,” he hands her a plate, “actual protein.”

“Buzzkill,” Serena pouts as she takes the ham, cheese, and veggie omelette from him. Ethan shakes his head in amusement and places one hand on her lower back to guide her towards the dining room table.

“For now, but in 10 hours…” he raises an eyebrow and smirks at her.

“10 hours and not a minute more,” she responds, sitting down, and giving him a stern look.

He laughs again. Something he’s been doing a lot more of since she came into his life. “Yes, baby.”

That seems to please Serena as she smiles and does a little wiggle in her chair, cutting into her omelette.

His apartment overlooks the glittering Charles River and the towering Boston skyline — a view people would kill for. But he’s not paying attention. His eyes are trained on the woman next to him. His t-shirt falls to her mid-thighs, her midnight hair tied at the nape of her neck, and the dainty gold necklace she never takes off is brilliant in the early morning glow. Serena shifts slightly and the faint smell of sunscreen wafts towards him.

“SPF on the face is important!” He grins at the memory.

She spends most of her time at Ethan's place nowadays. It's more private, compared to her shared apartment, and there's more space for them to sprawl out and be a couple. They cook dinner together, with Ethan learning to make her favorite dishes and incessantly asking her to taste test to ensure he gets the flavor right. They've made loading the dishwasher and walking Jenner into a two person job. He's even caught her stashing away some of his clothes in her overnight bag before: "I'm borrowing them!"

On the off nights when she insists on staying at her place to catch up on laundry or spend time with her friends, Ethan goes home to a dark and unwelcoming apartment. There is no source of laughter, light, or warmth. He never noticed it before, but now, Serena is his source of all of that, and more. Home is wherever she is.

How did I get so lucky?

“Why aren’t you eating?” Her head is tilted to the side and her brows are slightly furrowed.

Her question brings him out of his trance. He stares at her for a beat, his azure eyes filled with adoration. “Just admiring the view.”

Serena rolls her eyes and goes to playfully smack his arm, but he catches it. Interlaces their fingers and brings it to his lips. Her eyes soften as they gaze at each other.

“I could get used to mornings like this, you know," he rumbles.

"Yeah?"

He nods his head. "Yeah. I love spending them with you."

"The feeling is mutual, Dr. Ramsey." She leans in, stopping a hair's breadth away from his lips. "But I gotta get ready for my big day now," she says with a glint in her eye.

Ethan tries, and fails, to catch her lips with his own as she leans away and gets up from the table. "You're such a tease."

"Am I? Or are you just getting slow in your old age?" She playfully retorts.

Ethan stands abruptly from the table, chasing after her. Serena squeals in surprise and takes off towards the ensuite.

~ 7:40am ~

Ethan is leaning against the doorframe, arms and feet crossed, admiring Serena as she applies the finishing touches to her makeup.

"How many times are you going to stare at me today?" Serena questions.

He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to her. "As many times as you'll allow Rookie."

He hugs her waist. "Are you ready for today?"

Serena sighs and leans back into him. "I'm a little nervous. If testing doesn't go well today, we'll have to start from scratch. All our work, gone."

For the past few months, Serena has been consulting on a classified research project headed by scientists and engineers at Harvard University. The team was incredibly impressed with her capabilities, shown in saving Dr. Banerji's life and being the 2nd youngest member of the renowned Edenbrook Diagnostics Team, and liked that she provided a younger perspective. They brought her on and Ethan makes the 15 minute detour to drop her off three times a week.

"You all are ready. It will go great."

She locks eyes with him in the mirror. "Thank you, E."

~ 8:15am ~

Ethan puts the car in park, turns on his hazards, and turns to look at her.

"I can't wait to hear all about how today was an absolute success. You don't need it, but good luck." He squeezes her hand.

She nods. "Only 8 hours and 45 minutes left."

"And not a minute more," he smiles at her before leaning in to kiss her.

Ethan pulls away first, not wanting her to be late, but Serena continues to go back in for more soft kisses. After the sixth one, she finally pulls away smiling. She opens the car door, swings her legs out, and walks through the secured entrance.

~ 11:00am ~

The Diagnostics Team currently has no patients, so Ethan's morning is mundane, filled with meetings and endless paperwork. He itches to call Serena to break up the monotony, but knows she won't have her phone on her until lunch: no cell phones allowed in the lab. He settles on sending her a quick text — it'll be waiting for her. He pulls up their messaging thread, sends the text, and his eyes wander upward to see the remnants of their last conversation.

She had gotten, and dressed, Jenner in a new bow tie. She then blew up Ethan's phone with photos of Jenner, photos of her and Jenner, and even a few where she was wearing one of Ethan's bow ties to match.

"Look, we're twins!!"

Ethan re-scrolls through all of the photos and can't help the smile that lights up his face at how excited she gets about a small accessory for his dog. God, I love her.

There it is again, Ethan thinks. The 3 words and 8 letters that he never thought he'd feel, let alone want to voice. This feeling has become overwhelming in the past few weeks. He's reminded of it whenever he inhales the lingering scent of her perfume in the office, when he finds one of her forgotten face products at his place, the small moments they share when she sneaks away to visit him, "just because." It consumes him and makes his heart swell.

But he knows she's been extremely stressed with project duties, on top of handling the Diagnostics Team and regular patients. It just doesn't seem right to blurt it out when she's juggling so many things. But if all goes well, her portion of the project ends on Thursday and she'll be back to her normal workload. That's why he's been secretly making romantic plans for this weekend, not only to celebrate her success, but to also finally tell her how he feels. He wants the first time he utters those words to her to be special. Magical. Extraordinary. Just like her.

Just then, his pager beeps and he's pulled out of his second Serena trance of the day. He sets his phone down on the table, pulls out his pager, and is met with a message from Dr. Delarosa, asking for a consult. Just as he exits through the door, his phone lights up with a photo of Serena and her incoming call.

~ 2:15pm ~

The consultation with Ines turned into admitting the patient under the Diagnostics Team and the rest of the afternoon was spent running through possible diagnoses. Before he knew it, it had been over 3 hours and Ethan hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. He can't help but think how much easier this case would be with Serena here and her perspective. Not only does her presence help keep him calm, but she always comes up with suggestions that would inevitably lead to the correct diagnosis. He throws his glasses on the table and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He begins to stand, wanting to make his way to his desk, intending to call Serena on the off chance she picks up. However, before he's even able to reach his full height, Dr. Banerji walks in.

"My boy, are you busy?"

"No. Am I needed somewhere?"

Naveen looks at him for a beat too long, causing Ethan's confusion to spike. Naveen walks to the center table and switches on the TV. There, panning around the screen is an aerial view of the Harvard University lab complex, surrounded by police cars and SWAT members, as well as multiple aircraft. In bold letters, scrolling endlessly across the bottom of the screen is: Possible attack at Harvard University labs. On lockdown.

Ethan gawks at the screen with wide eyes and his pulse immediately picks up.

"Isn't Serena at Harvard labs today?"

~~~~~~

Disclaimer: I know Ethan starts his day and gets to the hospital at an ungodly hour, but let's ignore that bc I am my MC is not a morning person 😅

[keyofjetwolf]

Awaiting The Jewlet (or: Jet Wolf Screams Into Google Docs For Thirty-Five Hours)

Friday, 10:06pm: It happens tomorrow, I should go to sleep, it won’t happen right now but when it does happen I’ll wants to be rested, WHAT IF IT HAPPENS NOW THOUGH AND I’M ASLEEP. The fuck am I going to do even if it does? Go to sleep, you moron. I DON’T WANT TO SLEEP I’M TOO EXCITED THERE COULD BE JEWLET WHEN I WAKE UP. You weren’t even this bad when you believed in Santa Claus, my god. We’re going to bed, the end. BUT BUT BUT

Friday, 11:53pm: See, when I said “we’re going to bed” you were supposed to sleep. And now it’s too late to take a pot pill to knock me out. It is possible I did not plan this well. Meanwhile, also, constant: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE (we will not speak of the concern this is the less fun portion of the program)

Saturday, 2:17am: Oh yeah, it’s gonna be that kind of night.

4:39am: EEEEEEEEEEEE

5:57am: CROISSANTGATE

6:41am: This is about as rested as I’m gonna get today, huh?

7:02am: IT BEGINS SO SOON

7:30am: EEEEEEEEEEEE 2: The EEEEEquel

8:03am: Well, what productive thing will I try in vain to pretend is occupying my attention today? Actually, I do need to finish that Xena essay. I can probably legit get absorbed for a little bit in all their deliciousness.

8:42am: ...which can only happen if I actually start working. OKAY OKAY FOCUS OKAY

8:49am: I’M GONNA BE AN AUNT TEDDY I WILL MEET JEWLET OMG OMG

8:52am: Oh good! Cindy gets to go in too! That’ll be so wonderful for Doc and her and everybody. I MEAN NOT ME BUT THIS ISN’T ABOUT ME ****I SUPPOSE****

9:39am: Everybody’s settled, nothing new to report, EXCEPT MY EXISTENTIAL SCREAMING. Oh, wait, that isn’t new either.

10:09am:  The baby wrapping paper I bought in a fit of nervous energy is ready for pick up! I cannot remember what styles I picked. Nor how many rolls. Welp, today is a day full of surprises!

11:12am: hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrn SO MANY EMOTIONS INSUFFICIENT WORDS (this is, coincidentally, both baby and essay related)

12:22pm: I have no idea how I managed to finish that thing, but I did, THANK YOU TINY BABY JESUS. Is it good? Is it coherent? NO IDEA BUT LET’S HOPE. Time now to go drown myself in menial tasks that require very little focus! My favourites!

1:48pm: Out running errands, find myself in the baby aisle, someone stop me. 

3:39pm: JEWLET COME THE FUCK ON

3:58pm: Doc having stronger contractions she’s actually going into labour Jewlet is starting to arrive oh shit omg oh shit oh shit omg it’s happening

4:17pm: This is EXCRUCIATING. Note to self: if Doc has another, kill Cindy and/or Jill.

5:23pm: Duolingo: Do you want to practice Spanish?!   Me: NO I WANT MY BABY YOU FEATHERED GREEN CUNT

6:07pm: WELL THIS BITCH ASKED ME FOR TWO THINGS AND I FINISHED ONE SO OFF TO CLEAN HER BATHTUB AND IF THIS ISN'T FRIENDSHIP WHAT THE FUCK IS I ASK YOU

6:23pm: Moderate labor! No nastiness needed yet! Come on, Jewlet, your papa's has such a rough go of it, give her this, please. 

7:15pm: WELL I GUESS NOW I JUST WAIT IS THAT WHAT WE'RE SAYING

9:12pm: Just got back from running a bunch of stuff up to everybody at the hospital. Jill recorded me passing a message to Doc. I got to call her a cuntstain, so that was pretty good.

9:41pm: Too late to take a pot pill? Probably. But exhausted all the same, so maybe I can sleep anyway. I guess it’s time to try. I WANT TO MEET YOU TOMORROW JEWLET AUNT TEDDY IS WAITING

10:02pm:  COME ON JEWLET I THINK I FIGURED OUT HOW TO KNIT THIS SOCK JUST FOR YOU oh wait this isn’t trying to sleep is it

1048pm: WATER BROKE SHE COMING SHE COMING HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP NOW AM I GLAD I DIDN'T TAKE A GUMMY OR NO I CAN'T TELL

1054pm: I'm losing my mind and the hospital is within walking distance of my house, I can't imagine how much I'd be climbing the walls if I were still in Portland right now.

Sunday, 4:44am: WE HAVE A BABY!!! 

4:50am: I can't believe I completely passed out through all the build up texts hahahaha wtf. BUT WE HAVE A BABY SHE'S HERE I HAVEN'T SEEN A PICTURE YET I HOPE I GET ONE SOON I BET DOC LOOKS LIKE A HOT MESS WE HAVE A BABY

4:53am: SHE IS IN WALKING DISTANCE OF ME AND I CAN'T GO SEE HER THIS IS AGONY

5:06am: There she is! Hello Jewlet! Oh man you inherited the shit out of Doc's nose hahaha

5:09am: I HOPE YOU ALL GET TO COME HOME TODAY

6:43am: Oh look at you. Look at you. 

7:09am: eeeeeeeeeee

8:07am: Well I just nearly forgot to put on a shirt today, so that's happening. 

8:28am: Got Erik the Rabbi all updated, Reeves has been fed, GOT A VIDEO FUCK OFF WITH THIS CUTE I NEED TO SEE HER, I need some coffee, and oh shit now tumblr knows I CAN SCREAM ALOUD

[kookoosbunnynose]

Pairing -> Officer!Reader x BadBoy!Jungkook (ft. Reader x Yoongi)

Genre -> Angst | Smut | Fluff

Rating -> Mature (18+)

Word Count -> 14.5k

Playlist -> Looks Red, Tastes Blue

Warnings -> Major Character Death | Grief | Poor Coping Mechanisms | Mentions of Alcohol Abuse | Mentions of Smoking (tobacco) | Unrequited Love | Emotional Constipation | Explicit Sexual Content | Unprotected Sex (stay safe losers) | Oral (m/f receiving) | Dom/Sub Themes | Dirty Talk | Praise Kink | Sir Kink | He Spit in Ur Mouth | Brief Sex with Jimin | Should I Even Bother Putting Cursing?

Summary -> You meet an old friend under uncomfortable circumstances, he brings with him memories you’ve tried to forget for years. Your past becomes your future before you can catch your breath. 

Excerpt -> “But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.”

—————

“We have a 10-51 at The Red Eye on Main.” Your radio suddenly booms in your otherwise quiet vehicle, snapping you out of your trance-like state caused by watching a mostly empty intersection run through light cycles for the better part of an hour.

“10-4, I’m 76.” You answered, pausing briefly to assess your location in relation to the hole-in-the-wall bar. “10-77, three minutes.” You finish, setting down your mic and flipping your lights on.

When you first started this job, getting a call for a drunk and disorderly would send your heart into overdrive, cause your breathing to shallow and your hands to shake. Mind filling with possibilities of having to contain a violent man twice your size. But after learning the patterns of the locals in town, and learning your own capabilities, you barely batted an eye. You’d probably just have to give the crotchety town drunk a ride back home and scold him for making you do this for the upteenth time. No biggie.

You sped down the empty street with ease, you could drive this town with your eyes closed since you were fourteen. The street lights around you against the night sky making everything appear untouched and serene, only amplifying your obnoxious siren.

Three minutes, nearly on the dot, when you pull up to Red Eye, and much to your surprise you see a young man sitting on the curb with his forearms resting lazily on his knees waiting for your arrival. The less than impressed security guard stops glaring at him in favor of filling you in on what happened.

“Hi y/n.” the guard greets, making the man pick his head up to confirm his suspicions.

“Well, fancy seeing you on that side of the law.” He says making you take in a stiff breath at the familiar voice, one you haven’t heard in years.

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Jeon.” you say with a steady breath, being very well versed in not appearing as shaken as you are. And you are. But you fight the way your throat wants to close because you’re wearing your badge, and you’re not here to dive nose first into your past. You’re here to take statements and do an assload of paperwork.

“The kid has been pretty cooperative,” the guard continues when you turn your attention back towards him. “didn’t put up a fight when I escorted him out. He’s had one too many drinks and threw a punch at a guy, who has decided not to press charges. But I got his information before he left to tend to his busted lip, if you need to contact him.” he informs, handing you a napkin with the bar’s logo and shaky ink etched into it.

“Thank you, I’ll take him off your hands.” you say glancing at the man in question, he’s still watching you with the kind of smirk only alcohol can provide. “I’ll take him to the station to sober up and get his story.” he nods, stepping back but staying close just in case.

“Are you gonna get in the car quietly or do I have to use these?” you question, holding your cuffs up with a hooked finger.

“Don’t make me any promises you won’t keep, sweetheart.” he winks lamely. You roll your eyes, and open the back door of your car.

“Get in Jeon, I won’t ask twice.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he says, raising his hands in defense and standing to climb in your backseat.

You shut the door behind him and make your way around the vehicle, giving the guard a wave goodbye. If he had been anyone else making a remark like that would’ve landed them a pair of cuffs, but in all your years of knowing him, Jungkook has never given you a reason to feel unsafe with him.

He was pretty quiet on your drive back to the station allowing your mind to wander to the time you two last spoke.

That day the air was heavy and unforgiving on your lungs, that no matter how hard you tried never felt full. You were both dressed in black, heads hung low in mourning. Before you departed you gave each other a long hug, whispering ‘I’m sorry’s and sniffling together. Giving each other as much comfort as you could muster even though neither one of you believed it would be okay yourselves. The hug was meant to be one of condolence but shortly after you would come to learn that, unbeknownst to either of you, it was a goodbye as well.

You don’t know if it was because you were pulling up to the station or if it was because he could sense your thoughts but he decided to break the silence.

“The asshole had it coming.” He spoke bluntly, as you opened his door and walked him inside.

“What did he do that warranted a busted lip?” you asked, slightly exasperated but mostly curious.

“He was making a girl at the bar uncomfortable, she asked him to stop and he didn’t. I stepped in, he swung, I dodged, I clocked him in the mouth, and he fell down.” He recounted simply, almost bored. He hasn’t changed, still ready to throw a punch for anyone in need. Just like-

Your stern look softens. “Why didn’t you tell security he threw the first punch?”

“Would he have believed me? I’m sure I haven’t been gone long enough for half the town to forget my reputation.” He says sitting in the chair next to your desk and crossing his tattooed arms across his chest. Those are new. Well, most of them.

“I suppose not, but at least I could have it on record that you tried.”

“I told you, didn’t I?” he raises his brows.

“Yes, you did.” you relent, grabbing a breathalyzer from your drawer. “Blow.”

He takes the device from you and does as instructed, presumably choosing to keep some sexual comment to himself.

“A .05?” You blink. “I thought he said you drank too much.”

“Probably assumed since I decked a guy in a bar.” He shrugs.

“I suppose, but how annoying.” you say slightly bothered by the fact that he had to tell you everything, and security didn’t even bother to ask people who started it. He chuckles at you.

You start typing away on your report, his story, his blood alcohol level, etc.

“Do you wanna press charges? He did try to assault you.” you question, pausing your fingers.

“No, but I think that woman should.” you smile.

“Okay, I have all the info I need. You have two options.” you turn to him. “I can drive you home now, or I could get you some coffee and you wait here until you blow a .02 then I’ll take you back to your car.”

“I take option B.” he says, tapping the corner of your desk as if to lock in his answer. “I don’t want to have to go get it tomorrow.”

“I’ll go get your coffee.” you go to get the two of you some much needed liquid energy. Normally, you wouldn’t just leave someone who was brought in for assault without cuffing them to your desk or asking someone to watch them, but you know him, and normally people wouldn’t voluntarily choose to hang out in a police station for any longer than they needed to. Tonight is full of many things outside the norm.

As you sit back down back down with your drinks, Taehyung returns from patrol duty, and beelines for Seokjin’s desk.

“Tag you’re it.” he says, patting Jin’s back, making him flinch.

“Officer Kim, don’t sneak up on me.” He says puffing out his chest.

“My apologies, Officer Kim.” they laugh. 

You miss the way Tae looks over at you, and his smile drops when he sees who is at your desk.

You and Jungkook sip your coffee with a comfortable silence, neither of you wanting or needing to address his long absence yet, not while you’re filling out a report with his name on it.

A couple hours pass like this, with you doing various paperwork, and him scrolling on his phone or staring into space. Yep, definitely hasn’t changed.

“Alright Jeon, once more.” you say handing him the breathalyzer again.

He does.

.01, good.

“Let’s get you to your car.” you stand, and walk out into the crisp dawn air.

The ride back doesn’t leave your mind swimming as much as the first time. There’s still a sizable elephant in the room, but the tension isn’t as unbearable as you’d imagined it would be.

You pull your car next to his, allowing him to return home. “Thank you.” He half smiles, unsure if he should say ‘see ya later’ or not, but you had a feeling you would soon.   — You awoke later that same day, when the peachy light of the sunset was flowing through your windows. Your shift at the station usually ran from midnight to ten in the morning, meaning you usually slept through most of the day. Though you didn’t mind, you’ve always been a night owl, nothing a little vitamin D supplements can’t fix.

Groaning as you roll over in your mess of blankets to check your phone, you find exactly what you were expecting.

Jimin (7:48pm): In need of stress relief, Doll? ;)

You (8:13pm): God, yes. When you couldn’t meet up last week I thought I was gonna implode :(

Jimin (8:15pm): Aw, you missed me? Cute

You (8:16pm): Don’t flatter yourself Park. I missed your dick

Jimin (8:17pm): I’m hurt :(

You (8:19pm): I’ll be over in 40. Be ready, handsome ;)

Jimin (8:19pm): :)

You toss your phone on your bed and get up to take a shower, a little hop in your step at the prospect of receiving an orgasm by someone else’s hand. And Jimin always delivered.

You wash your hair quickly, more concerned about shaving your legs for the first time in two weeks. After you’ve dried off, you lotion and perfume like normal. You slip on a tank top and leggings, knowing that he is a big fan of your ass. You take your uniform with you as well so you can head straight to work after your weekly dick transaction.

When you’re making your short drive to Jimin’s you find your mind wandering to Jungkook. How your heart skipped a beat when you saw him sitting on that curb. How he’s lost all the baby fat he used to hold in his cheeks, but his eyes still crinkle when he smiles. How having him stand in front of you for the first time in five years confirmed your adolescence wasn’t in fact a pipe dream your mind had fabricated after you decided to change everything you could. How though he’s jaded and may not know it himself, he’s the same boy you’ve always known. And how he still reminded you of-

But now wasn’t time to dwell, you’ve done enough of that. Tonight is supposed to be about the exact opposite. Free of stress. Free of thoughts. Only a couple hours of animalistic need. Then you could go back to reality.

“Hello y/n.” Jimin greets with a smile after your knuckles rap against his door. “Do you wanna talk? Before we…”

“Not really.” you answer a little too fast, crossing the threshold of his apartment.

“Works for me.” he says, noticing that you’re seeking more of the benefits than the friends side of this deal.

Without another word his hands are on your hips and his lips are on your neck, walking you backwards until your back is flush with the door. Noticing that you’re not in the mood for as much foreplay as normal, he immediately grazes his teeth against that spot on your neck that makes you sigh into his ear.

He’s always been very good at reading you, perhaps that’s why you agreed to this little arrangement. You’re not sure exactly how the two of you ended up fucking in the first place. Definitely had something to do with your collective blood alcohol level at the time. But when all was said and done that first time he told you he’d be more than willing to make it a regular thing. To make your shoulders relax every so often and it’s not as if he didn’t get anything out of it. Neither of you were in the headspace for a relationship, so the easy access to orgasms, with no strings attached was ideal for all parties involved.

Not that you weren’t friends outside his bedroom as well. You guys would hangout pretty often just as friends. You were fortunate that the line between your regular dose of stress relief and the platonic love you had for one another never blurred. Jimin was special in that regard.

Your hands find the hem of his shirt and he takes the hint quickly pulling it over his head. You do the same, and his hands eagerly cup your breasts. He reattaches his lips to the sweet spot on your neck biting down harder this time causing a small whine to fall from your lips. He smirks against your skin and runs his tongue along your reddened skin to sooth it.

Not wanting to waste anymore time than necessary you grab his hand and walk him to his bedroom. Once inside you put your hands on his chest and give him a firm push until his knees meet the edge of his mattress and he falls against it with a small bounce. When he falls back you remove your leggings and underwear, he does the same matching your urgency.

You climb over him planting your knees on either side of his hips, grinding your increasingly wet slit up his stiff length.

“You got hard pretty fast.” you say breath tickling his cheek and he slides his palms up your thighs to your ass, gently kneading the flesh in his hands.

“You said be ready.” he says smoothly, pushing his hips up to add to the friction on your clit. The extra contact catching you off guard making you place your hands on his shoulders for extra balance.

You feel his breath hitch beneath you when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to guide him to your entrance. You sit down a little slower than you want to due you being a little less wet than usual.

It was your doing, he would’ve been glad to work you up properly, but you were seeking a quick release. Caught somewhere between wanting to take your time so your escape will last longer and needing to reach the cloudy peak as quickly as possible, putting as much distance as you can between you and the thoughts that lay in the valley of your metaphorical mountain. Though it seems your body was choosing the latter for you.

You rock your hips against his, enjoying the way his cock drags against your g-spot, sending heat from your core to your toes. You pick up your pace a little allowing yourself to let go as much as you can, jaw going slack and eyes closing tightly. Jimin groans at the sight, reaching up to toy with your pert nipples.

A light layer of sweat forms over both of your bodies, heating the room like a makeshift furnace. A furnace made of hot skin and moans instead of fire.

You increase the speed of your hips on his until your thighs start to burn, the dull ache in your limbs only adding to the fiery one in your pelvis. Your pants grow louder as your end is nearly in sight.

“Jimin,” you gasp with a mouth like cotton. “I need more.”

Your request straight to the point, he moves his hands to your hips, rubbing your clit one thumb and using his other hand to keep you in place while he thrusts up to meet yours roughly.

“Umph- fuck!” your voice cracks as you fall onto his chest, curling your fingers into his hair and pulling to keep you grounded as your orgasm rips through you.

Jimin groans deeply in your ear, you can tell how your fists in his hair and your walls clenching around him brought him to his end by how desperate his thrusts became. You can feel his cock pulsing as he coats your core with his cum.

You both lay like that for a few moments, his softening dick still tucked safely within you and labored breaths creating a fog around your heads.

“Can I use your shower? I don’t wanna go to work smelling of sex.” you ask and he chuckles against your shoulder.

“By all means.”

“Thank you.” you say, for both the shower and the sex.

He grabs your hand when you go to stand from the damp fabric of his bed. “Are you alright?” he decides to pry for the first time tonight. “You haven’t been that down to business since that fight with your mom a few months ago.” he says, concern laced in his features.

“Yeah.” you begin unsure. “Just, something happened last night that brought up some memories.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he treads lightly, knowing what that statement could mean.

“I’ll be okay. You let me turn off my brain for a minute.” you smile and kiss his cheek.

“Happy to help. I’m here if you need anything.” he says with a stupid wink. Though you know he doesn’t just mean sex. Jimin has been a shoulder for you to cry on as long as you’ve known each other. You’ve always been there for him as well. A mutual understanding that you can come to each other for anything.

“I know, thank you Minie.” — You take a deep breath and run your hands through your hair, cursing the clock above the captain’s doorway that ticks just too loud for you to think. You blink a few times, your eyes struggling to focus on the text on your computer screen. You’re relieved when the phone on your desk starts to ring.

“Hello this is Officer l/n.” you say putting the phone to your ear, unfortunately excited about someone being in distress, but you’re about five minutes of screen time away from getting a migraine.

“Hello Miss l/n, this is Mrs. Choi,” here we go again. “I was wondering if you could send an officer to the house across the street? I think I saw some hoodlums trespassing.” and there it is.

“Of course Mrs. Choi,” you hold back a lengthy exhale. “I’ll go check it out, myself. Did you happen to see anything that could provide a description?”

“I’m afraid not dear, I only saw some trees rustling.” ah yes, the wind. Nature’s trespasser.

“Okay, I’ll take a look. Anything to help you sleep better at night, ma’am.” you smile as sweetly as you can despite her not being able to see you.

“Thank you Miss l/n.” she says promptly ending the call.

You let your breath out fully for the first time since the interaction began. And try your best to ignore how tense it makes you when she always calls you ‘Miss’ but calls all your male coworkers ‘Officer.’ You once put Jin in a choke-hold over a granola bar, you’re more than capable of holding your own, but that’s neither here nor there. Really.

“Mrs. Choi again?” Tae asks peering around the filing cabinet between your desks.

“The one and only.” you state. “She ordered the usual; someone to check the old abandoned house across from hers.”

“Well maybe if someone didn’t break into that place all the time in high school.” he says looking anywhere but at you.

“And now I’m the one who has to get rid of them. The world goes round, balance is restored. Hooray.“ you say feigning awe, he chuckles.

“Hey, I know how you are about that old place, do you want me to check it out for you?” Tae asks his expression morphing into worry.

“I got it, I’m okay. I need to stretch my legs anyway. But thank you Tae, really.” for the first few months you were a cop, you couldn’t even take the patrol route the old house was on without crying. He was always really nice about taking care of it for you. Officer Kim, always ready to jump in at a sign of distress, perhaps why he’s so good at his job.

“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind.” you hum an affirmative as you exit the building.

Though the bubble of anxiety in your stomach grows as you approach the run down house, it doesn’t spill out as tears anymore. You’ve come to accept this is as healed as your wounds will get.

You unlock the chain on the gate and make your way to the front door, knocking harshly before opening it.

“Police! Come out now and I won’t tell your moms what you’ve been doing!” you shout into the empty house. You’re sure the house is empty because every time there has been a few teens in here you can hear them run before you can even shout ‘police!’ but, you still need to do a walk through just in case.

Your cautious steps make the floorboards creak below you, the smell alone flooding your mind with memories.

There’s a sliding glass door in the back, that’s long since been shattered, where you used to sit and get a perfect view of the stars for hours with your first, and thus far only, love. 

Your mind wanders to when you used to play music off your phones and slow dance in the living room, skillfully avoiding the gaps in the old wood floor. It’s truly a wonder this place hasn’t been torn down yet, but you’re thankful, you don’t know if you could bear to see it go.

As you make your way down the dark hallway you get a small craving for a cigarette, having quit years ago now, but you can almost feel the dry paper on your lips as you make your way to the last bedroom in the house. You pause at the door.

Your eyes scan until they reach the corner of the room, pausing at the small carving in the wall. Your breath catches for the briefest of seconds when step close to it, tracing the heart with your fingers, careful to not get any splinters. Your fingers continue their journey, tracing the initials at its center with care.

Y/I + YG

“Babe! Angel! C’mere!” Yoongi’s smile beamed, gums and all.

“What?! What did you need to interrupt my sandwich eating to show me?” you follow his voice slightly annoyed, though you wondered why he disappeared for a few minutes, leaving you to munch in solitude. You had met here for a picnic, not uncommon for the two of you during the summer. He brought a blanket and you brought the burgers. You set up the picnic in the living room, with summer sun’s rays spilling through the old cracked windows, it’s a lot more beautiful than sitting in the middle of an abandoned house sounds.

“Look!” he says gesturing to the freshly carved wood on the wall, tucking his trusty knife back in his pocket.

“God, you’re so lame.” you smile and walk over to him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in close to admire his handy work.

“If I’m lame it’s your fault.” me chuckles running his hand through your hair. “I suppose, loving you makes me this way.” he hums jokingly.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” you look up at him, admiring the way the sun makes his bleached hair glow.

“You know I do right?” his tone drops a bit and his eyes search yours. “I love you.”

“Of course I know.” he only tells you everyday, yet you never tire of hearing it. You study his face, the slope of his nose and the little mole right next to it. His pink petal lips, that despite his reputation, you don’t know how anyone could be weary of a man with such beautifully delicate features. And his dark eyes that lighten only when he looks at you.

His gums return. He tilts your chin up to gently connect your lips. He tastes of the chocolate milkshake he drank not long ago, and you hum against his mouth.

“I love you too.”

The memory shifts, to one five months later.

“I love you too, angel.” his chilled lips peck yours, as he starts to climb out your bedroom window. The winter air makes you shiver when a gust of wind blows against your skin, with only your pajamas to keep you warm. Sometimes you’d sneak him overnight but with the first day back to school being tomorrow, it was too risky. If your mom caught him here again she’d have some choice words for the two of you, but she is a heavy sleeper, so as long as he left at a decent hour, nothing to worry about.

He hops down, his boots packing the snow beneath them when he lands. His head now a bit below yours as you lean out your first story window.

“Text me when you get home!” you remind him as he starts the small trek back to his car.

“Always!” he whisper-shouts back before disappearing around the side of your house.

You gaze up at the moon and take in a deep breath, trying to decide if the frozen air is refreshing or sharp on your lungs. You don’t take the time to figure it out before your window is shut and the air in your room feels hot against your cheeks.

You curl up in bed, and decide to scroll your various socials until your eyes get heavy.

You blink to help your eyes focus on the text on your screen, and decide to call it a night. You flick your eyes over to check the time.

2:30 am? Yoongi left at 2:00 and still no text? He’s always really good about telling you he got home, though he has forgotten a few times, no one is perfect.

“I’ll wait til he texts, he probably stopped for gas.” you mumble to no one.

2:45 am. You decide to text him.

You (2:46am): Love, did you make it home alright?

You (3:15am): I’m sure you just fell asleep.

You hit send trying to convince the panic knotting your stomach.

“He’s forgotten before, why am I freaking out so much?” you mumble to yourself rubbing your eyes. “I’ll just call him.”

My Love missed your call (3:23am)

My Love missed your call (3:35am)

My Love missed your call (3:42am)

“It’s Yoongi, leave your message after the beep.”

“Hi, I know that you’re probably just sleeping, and you’re gonna tell me that you’re fine in the morning.” you push out a laugh trying not to cry. “But I just can’t shake this feeling, so please please call me as soon as you wake up. I love you.”

My Love missed your call (4:01am)

You sit there staring at your phone in your hands, for a few minutes watching the clock on your screen change. Still nothing.

“Alright, fuck it.” you huff and grab your boots, shoving your feet in them and throwing on your jacket. You grab your keys and get in your car, you dial his number again while you start the engine, the route to his house flashing through your mind.

The dial tone in your ear stops ringing. “Thank fuck Yoongi!” the tears you’ve been holding back start to spill in relief. “You scared the-”

“This is Officer Jung.” a deep voice rings in your ear and your blood runs cold.

“What’s going on? What happened?” you ask frantic, the panic in your lungs turning into fire, the air feeling too thick to swallow.

“Ma’am, Min Yoongi was involved in an incident.” he says attempting to make his voice resemble something close to comfort. “The snow caught his tire and hi-”

“Is he okay?” you try to yell but your throat is closing.

“His car was pulled into a ditch, he-.”

“Is he fucking okay?!” your voice cracks and so does the dam holding back your tears.

“He didn’t make it.”

Your heart skips in a way you didn’t know it could, your body instantly too weak to hold itself or anything else. Your phone falls to the floor and your body falls against your steering wheel. You think you’re screaming but who can be sure with the ringing in your ears echoing in your skull. Your vision is blurred and your cheeks are wet. You were shivering when you climbed in your car but your skin has gone numb.

You don’t know how long you were crying in your car but by the time you were able to collect yourself enough to walk back to your bed your phone had no charge, and the sun had begun to rise.

When you finally turned your phone back on, you were flooded with people asking if you were okay, most of them you didn’t even know. After scrolling through your list of unopened texts, you answered only the one from his little brother.

Gukkie (7:38am): You okay?

You (8:44am): No

Gukkie (8:45am): Yeah, me either.

Now the ache is dull and the memories are faded. The anger and hurt that used to filter them turns more rosy as time goes on. And as with most wounds, there are scars. Love runs deep and Min Yoongi was your deepest river and your deepest cut.

You finish tracing the divots in the wood and smile bittersweetly. You place a kiss on the tips of your first and second fingers, you touch them to his initials and take a deep breath.

You let that breath go slowly as you walk out of the house, careful not to step on any of the less stable floor panels. Your lungs finally empty when you reach the gate where you can not-so-metaphorically lock up your past. — “Did you really need to cuff me?” you hear a familiar voice huff from behind you.

“Yes I did.” Tae grunts, you turn to see him holding Jungkook by the elbow before he  plops him down in the seat next to his desk.

“Alright, you’re the boss.” he says somewhere between sarcasm and defeat. He attempts to shift into a comfortable position, his cuffs against the metal chair hitting your ears in a less than pleasant way.

Jungkook glances your way and gives you a small nod when you catch eyes, and you do your best to pretend you meant to be staring at him. Though you’re sure he’s probably just as tense as you are. Police stations aren’t exactly the best place for a reunion. Especially twice.

“Name.” Taehyung states in a business-like tone.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Date of birth.” September first, 1997.

“September first, 1997.”

“Address.” 5235 west- shit I’m eavesdropping.

You shift in your seat and refocus on what you were doing before they came in. You try to at least.

Seokjin returns from his patrol route, entering the room the same as he always does, as loud as possible. “Tag you’re it!” he says with a childlike smile as he pats Tae on the shoulder.

“I’m kinda busy.” he gestures to Jungkook and his computer screen.

“I can take care of the report for you.” you butt in before you can think about the fact that you’re speaking. Tae slides his chair to your desk to get out of the other’s ear shot. “Do you really wanna deal with him? I know you’re not a big fan.” you lower your voice.

“Yeah, you have a point.” He thinks for a second, looking over at the man in question and grimacing slightly. “You sure?”

“Of course, I took care of him last week.” you say matter of factly. “And years before that.” you add after a beat. He nods in agreement, and grabs his jacket. “Change in plans Guk,” he smiles at the nickname he hasn’t heard from you in a long time. “You’re with me, Officer Kim has other business he needs to attend to.”

“Oh does he?” Jungkook mutters under his breath and you hold back a chuckle. He gets up from Tae’s desk and shuffles over to yours, his shoulders releasing slightly.

Without saying anything you unlock his wrists and set the cuffs on your desk, he rubs his skin a little too dramatically and you smile when he sits back in the chair looking more relaxed.

“Thank you.” Jungkook smiles. You miss the way Tae scowls at your gesture as he walks out of the building.

You start filing out the basics without question, as you know all the answers. He sits there tracing the walls with his eyes, far less entertaining than last week having already memorized the lack luster wallpaper.

“Alright Guk, what happened this time?” you say after a couple minutes.

“I didn’t fucking do anything.” he says widening his eyes clearly frustrated but not at you.

“It appears you did.” you say accusing him playfully.

“Seriously.” he relaxes a little. “I went to Red Eye again, I was minding my own business.” he points his finger at you in preemptive defense. “The same guy from last week-”

“The one whose face you busted?” you quip.

He stops, mouth slightly agape. “Yes, that one.”

“Continue.” you smirk and he glares at you slightly.

“I was sitting at the bar, he came up and started saying he could kick my ass for what I did. I told him to forget about it cause I wasn’t gonna fight him. He said I may look tough now but I’m still the same sixteen year old I was before everything. I got in his face, no fists mind you, and told him to fuck off. The security saw us yelling and told us we needed to leave, and I refused because I had done nothing wrong. He told me he would call the cops and the other guy left, but I sat my ass back down, cause The Man has never stopped me before. And bingo bango, Officer Pretty Boy cuffs me and I’m here.”

“You just can’t get rid of that rep of yours, can you?” you soften.

“I’m used to it, and it’s nothing I didn’t do to myself.” he shrugs. “Besides, I’d rather be feared than pitied.” his voice lowers, and your heart twinges.

“I don’t fear or pity you.” he smiles, not one of those smiles that’s big and all teeth, but one that’s small and warm. Jungkook had this way of saying everything he needed without speaking a word.

Silence falls over you while you finish writing the report. He didn’t do anything other than disturb the peace for a moment, no need for punishment harsher than a slap on the wrist.

“Ow!” he rubs his arm. “What the fuck was that for?” he questions, his brows furrow.

“It was a slap on the wrist.” you shrug. “You didn’t do anything that requires a fine or jail time, so you get a warning.”

“Aren’t you taking that a tad too literal?” he chuckles.

“I don’t think so.” you fight a smile. “I don’t wanna see you with flashing lights near you again unless you catch fire. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” he playfully salutes, but he knows you’re serious.

“Would you like a ride back to your car?”

“I can walk, that’s not necessary.” he says standing up and waving you off.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the air will do me good.” his feet stutter. “Would you maybe want to get coffee on Wednesday? I didn’t imagine our reunion going quite like this.” he lets out a breathy laugh.

“I’d love that.” your eagerness to accept surprises you, and given the way he lights up, you surprise him too. — You mindlessly push the noodles you’ve been eating around on your plate letting the sound of other tables’ utensils clinking and your mother ramble on about her book club’s latest ventures buzz lowly in your head as you hum vague responses.

“… Jeon Jungkook moved back to town.” the mention of the name snaps you back into reality.

“What about Jungkook?” you ask, now at full attention.

“Have you heard he moved back to town?” she looks at you expectantly.

“I- um. I thought I saw him in the grocery store the other day, but I assumed I was seeing things.” you say keeping your voice as steady as possible.

“His mother is absolutely over the moon about it.” she says, wholly missing your lie as she was too excited at the prospect of telling you the latest gossip. Small town doesn’t leave one with much else to do.

“I’m sure she is.” you say and your chest can’t help but warm at the thought of Mrs. Jeon being so excited to see her son after he’s been gone for three years.

“She’s so happy he finally gave up on that god awful garage band.” she says, relief filling her face, and you roll your eyes. You had nearly forgotten he went to the city to make it big, you hadn’t ever doubted them, his voice alone was label worthy. “What were they called again? Red appendix?”

You blink. “Crimson Heart?” you offer her, knowing full well you’re correct.

“Ah right! That’s the one.” she says laughing at the, admittedly edgy, name. “I’m so glad he’s cleaning up his act, I expected better of him.” she adds, shaking her head. Your shoulders tense at her statement.

“Did you hear Jeon Jungkook got busted for spray painting the movie theater?” your mom questions as she leans on your door frame. Your face buried in some book you didn’t know the name of, as long as it had words in it. Mind numbing words.

“Um, no mom. I didn’t.” you mumble clearly uncomfortable with the subject. It was summer now, about six months since that night. The cold unforgiving weather that changed your world in an instant long since melted away, and as free as summer used to make you feel, it just feels hot and bitter against your skin.

“It just makes me sad, I expected better for him.” her voice solemn, clearly not ready to let the topic go.

You couldn’t muster a response that wasn’t yelling or trying to reason with her, which would get you nowhere.

“I never understood why you couldn’t have chosen the good brother.”

Your fingers clench around your book wrinkling the pages. She’d said that for years but sting you felt this time was far deeper.

“He was so studious and stayed out of trouble, but it looks like I was wrong.” she says, appearing more upset that her judgment was off, rather than the obvious issue at hand.

“Can we please not talk about them.” you plead softly, fighting your closing throat and watering eyes.

“Honey, I know you miss him, but look how much better you’re doing now! You’re reading for pleasure.” I’m reading so I can’t think. “You raised your GPA up almost a whole point before the year ended.” My test scores are the same, I just did my homework. “And I haven’t found cigarettes under your bed in months!” She seems most excited about that one. I’ll give her the smoking, they don’t fill my lungs the same way they used to. How can they when I can’t catch my breath?

Her attempt at comfort doing nothing but reminding you that you can’t be who you want to be anymore. You’d become someone who does any trivial task they can as not to spend too much time alone with their thoughts. Instead of someone who didn’t give a shit, did what they wanted to do, and most importantly had their love by their side. “Yeah, I guess not smoking anymore is good.”

“You know I always rooted for you two.” your mom says, her smile mischievous.

“I know, you always told me he was the ‘good brother’.” you try to conceal your eye roll at the same conversation you’ve had with her a million times.

“Before you and Yoongi got together, too.” she adds.

“What?” now this surprised you.

“His mom and I used to talk about how cute you’d be when you were all in elementary.” she remembers fondly.

You try to respond but you’re too shocked that her infatuation with Jungkook went past him being ‘so close yet so far.’

“Anywho, I just hope he can find the boy he used to be.” she hums.

You agree, but for largely different reasons. Your chest blooms at the thought of a smiling Jungkook.

“So do I, mom.” — Jimin (6:37pm): Hey Doll, in need of extra McLovin after lunch with The Wicked Witch of the West?

You (6:45pm): Actually, I feel okay Minie, but thank you

You (6:46pm): I’m doing better

Jimin (6:53pm): I’m proud of you, beautiful

You (7:04pm): Me too — When you walk into the coffee shop a few minutes before you were supposed to meet you’re surprised to see Jungkook already sitting at a small table by the wall of large windows with two cups of coffee placed in front of him.

“Hey Guk.” you sit down, shoulders relaxing.

“I got your old order, I hope that’s okay.” he smiles nervously.

“How the hell did you remember that?” you gasp, taking a long sip from your cup.

“You’ve had a caffeine addiction since you were like fourteen, and you practically lived at my house.” he chuckled.

“I suppose you’re right.” you nod in agreement and take another sip, the drink making your taste buds dance.

“Listen,” Jungkook begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to apologize for the whole you arresting me twice thing.” he hesitates.

“Technically, I didn’t arrest you the second time.” you correct with a smile, trying to ease his obvious guilt.

“Still.” his voice insistent, almost stern. “That isn’t exactly how I wanted us to meet again after five years. It didn’t feel right to not fix it.” his face seeking the approval that his apology did, in fact, fix it.

“There was nothing to fix really, Guk. But thank you.” you soften. “I don’t think of you any different. How could I, given my past?” he chuckles at that. “And you got the shit end of the stick in both situations. I still know you’d never do anything truly bad, you’re all bark and no bite.”

“Oh, you don’t think I can bite?” he tongues the inside of his cheek smugly.

“Would you shut up?” his face shifts immediately, his eyes crinkling. “I’m serious.” you groan, but the heat threatening your cheeks and ears contradicts you. Well, that’s odd. Anyway.

“Okay.” he says after a beat. “C’mon y/n, I know you’re dying to know why I came back. Just ask.” he states, less than smoothly steering the conversation.

“Why would I wonder about you inexplicably reappearing after three years of nearly zero contact with anyone? It hasn’t crossed my mind at all.” your mouth laced with sarcasm.

“You think you’re so funny.” he squints. “I am.” you wave him off. “Alright, spill Rockstar, since you want to so bad. Why’d you give up living it up in the city to come back to all this?”

“Actually.” he laughs. “They kicked me out of the band like two years ago.”

You blink. “What? Why would they kick out their only talent?” you say screwing your brow in offense.

He nearly chokes on his coffee. He sputters trying to catch his breath, wiping his mouth on this arm. “Thank you.” he clears his throat. “But they were definitely better off without me.”

“How do you figure?”

“I wasn’t in the best place when the guys and I moved over there, for obvious reasons.” you nod. “I was getting black out drunk every other night. And writing songs that were just, not good. The kind of sad that isn’t relatable anymore, it was just painful and would make the crowds go silent.”

You grab his hand wishing you could’ve been there when he really needed it, but now will have to do. He smiles.

“The last straw though, was one night I got absurdly drunk right before a gig, and I thought I could handle it because I had been tipsy on stage before. They told me not to but I didn’t listen, and when I got to the song that I wrote about Yoongi, I just broke down sobbing on stage. I was embarrassed so I just fucked off out of the venue and kept running until I didn’t recognize where I was anymore.”

“Guk, I’m so sorry.” you squeeze his hand, and he rubs his inked thumb over you knuckles to tell you not to worry.

“No it’s okay, the guys found me the next morning, passed out in a Denny’s.” he chuckles stiffly. “They brought me home and told me that I needed to get help, they didn’t want to watch me self-destruct anymore, and at the time I was hurt but I’m grateful. It still took me a fucking while to work up the courage to come home, but if I didn’t have anyone tell me to try, I don’t think I’d be home now.” his expression turned from bitter to sweet as he recounted his story.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” he smiles, the stars in his eyes multiplying when he looks at you. “My dumbass fifteen year old self thought if I went dark side I could fill the hole he left, but I didn’t know what dark side really looked like until it was too late. Then it just became something I told myself so I didn’t have to face the fact that I was doing shitty shit.”

“You sound like you’ve taken a lot of time to reflect.” you say impressed.

“Limiting your alcohol intake to a normal human level will do that to you.” he chuckles.

“My dumbass sixteen year old self wasn’t much better, arguably worse.” you counter. “I thought if I got rid of everything in my life that reminded me of him, I could force myself to forget.” your face falls slightly. “Which is worse? Diving in head first or turning your back entirely?” you push out a sound that’s supposed to be laugh.

“I think both are pretty fucking miserable.” you both laugh, he gives you reassuring look. “But, tragic backstory aside. I wanted to come home to face the music and make amends with my mom.”

“My mom told me she’s very happy you’re home.” you can’t help but feel her relief.

“Yeah, I really put her through hell.” his guilt present in his expression.

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” he relaxes, his gaze fixed on yours for a moment. There’s those stars again.

He blinks, snapping his attention to his coffee. “I’m gonna get a refill” he says, disconnecting your hands, that you had forgotten you were holding, to tap his empty cup on the table. “Do you want another?”

“Yes please.” you say turning to rummage in your bag for a few dollars to give him, but when you turn around he’s already in line. You deflate setting the cash in front of you.

Your eyes wander around the cafe, inspecting the comforting eclectic vibe it produced. Your gaze stops on Jungkook standing in line, studying how his features have changed, how he has grown a few inches, his shoulders have broadened and how you can see the way his bicep flexes ever so slightly when he takes the coffee from the barista. What the fuck? Did I just check him out?

You inhale sharply, turning your focus on anything happening on the street outside the window.

When he’s seated back in front of you, you slide the small bills in his direction. He promptly slides them back towards you and you glare at him.

“When did you get so hell-bent on being nice?” he smiles.

You scrunch your brows and drop your jaw. “What do you mean? I’ve always been nice?” you question in defense and he laughs.

“You used to make fun of me all the time.” he states, crossing his arms.

“I mean yeah, but like in a sibling banter type way.” you frown. “Did you really think I was trying to bully you?”

“No!” he reassures. “I mean it kinda sucked because…” he trails off and takes a sip of his coffee in an attempt to abandon his sentence.

“Because?” You’re not getting away that easy.

“You know it’s funny.” he breathes. “I used to have a huge crush on you.” he admits nervously.

“And?” you blink.

“And?” he echos. “No reaction? Not even a slight inhale?”

“I knew, Gukkie.” you break as softly as you can.

Now it’s his turn to be surprised. “You did?” his furrows his brows in offense.

“We both did.” you laugh lightly. “Why do you think Yoongi left an obnoxious amount of hickies on my neck?” you can’t help but cringe a little at the memory.

“That asshole!” Jungkook’s jaw drops, and you snort. “I just thought you were normal slutty teenagers.”

“I didn’t say we weren’t.” you add trying to contain your laughter at the attention his outburst brought you.

He throws you an accusatory squint. “You guys suck.” — “You didn’t need to walk me back to work.” you beam at Jungkook as you walk through the doors of the station. “I don’t need protection.”

“I know you don’t.” he defends. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” you laugh.

“What did he do this time?” Taehyung chimes in loudly from his desk.

You turn to face him. “Nothing, we just got coffee and caught up.”

His expression remains bitter and unconvinced. You opt for brushing him off.

“Thank you, Gukkie.” you smile when you turn back to Jungkook.

“No, you.” he says, patting your hair affectionately before he exits.

You stand at your desk, shifting various papers to pick up where you left off when you see Taehyung approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“What the fuck, y/n?” he asks angrily, and you widen your eyes in confusion.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Listen, I get it.” he ignores you. “You let him off easy a couple times because you have history together or whatever. But now you’re going on a date with him?” he accuses.

“Tae, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he scoffs, and your jaw tenses. “I would never slack on my job. And that most definitely was not a date.” your words sharp, hoping you’ll get him to drop whatever bullshit this is.

“Then why would you let him go both times?” he crosses his arms waiting impatiently for a response.

“I didn’t ‘let him go,’ because we had no reason to keep him. It’s not illegal to defend yourself or to be a bit of a stubborn ass.” you defend, raising your voice. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sure okay.” Tae says, clearly annoyed averting his gaze from you.

“I trust him, and you should trust me Taehyung. Why are you being like this?” your voice falling slightly. “Because, I care about you, and the kid is bad news. Do you not remember all that shit he pulled at the end of high school before he took off for several years? He can just show up and everything is heart eyes and open arms?” he says trying to convince you but all it does is make your blood boil.

“I appreciate your concern,” you bite. “But you don’t know him.” He shakes his head letting out a stiff laugh. “Figures you wouldn’t be able to read him, you always did know how to pick ‘em.” “What the fuck, is that supposed to mean?” you say all but seeing red, trying but failing not to yell.

He tongues his cheek and turns to walk back to his desk, very much done with the subject, but you were far from it.

“No!” you say following him. “You can’t just say that and then walk away. Explain yourself.” “I don’t know what the fuck is going on out here but it’s going to end right now.” Captain Kim Namjoon says sternly from his office doorway, arms crossed tight on his chest. “Our apologies, Sir.” you say, both of you bowing at him.

“Y/n, you look frazzled, go home and walk it off.” he offers pointing at the door. “Captain, we’ll drop it. I-” “It wasn’t a suggestion, Officer y/l.” he interrupts. “I expect you’ll be better tomorrow.” his voice a little softer now.

“Yes, Sir.” you bow again, and turn on your heals quickly, avoiding Tae entering your line of vision.

You white knuckle your steering wheel your whole drive home, you’re probably speeding but you can’t be bothered to check. What are you gonna do? Get pulled over?

When your car is parked, you fish your phone out of your pocket. You pull up Jungkook’s contact and your finger hovers over the call button for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to press it with him having been so happy when you two parted less than an hour ago. You opt for seeking comfort from someone else.

You (3:32pm): I need you

Jimin (3:35pm): I’m off in an hour <3 — Your chest rises and falls rapidly while you stare at Jimin’s ceiling, waiting for the normal relief that settles after you two have sex.

But even after you’ve caught your breath you still don’t feel it, the sweat covering your body starting to feel less like afterglow and more like guilt. Why won’t my chest unknot? We’ve hate-fucked countless times. What’s different?

You brush it off shaking your head in the hopes you can trick yourself into feeling normal, before you stand up to gather your clothes. You shudder at how sticky your skin feels against itself as you button up your shirt.

You decide some fresh air would do you good, and you open his bedroom window and take a breath and let the flowers outside fill your nose.

“You okay, beautiful?” Jimin’s voice sounds from behind you. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” you say before you can fully register what you’re saying. You turn to him, his towel hanging lowly on his hips and the hand tousling his damp hair stops in its tracks, his eyes widen. “Is the sex not good anymore? I thought you liked it when I bit your ass.” he chuckles through his worry. His joke makes you soften a little. “No, it’s not anything you did.” you say walking over to hold his hands. “Remember how I said I was doing better?” he nods, his worry fades into a smile. “Turns out that’s more true than I thought it was.” you say and as the words leave your mouth, your body finds that relief it was looking for. Feeling like, for the first time in forever you don’t need to escape your own mind for a minute to function. “Is there a guy?” he quirks a mischievous brow. “Are you ready to be monogamous?” he gasps dramatically. You shove his shoulder while he giggles. “No guy, I just…” you think for a moment. “Don’t need to forget anymore.” you breathe, lungs feeling lighter, and he smiles brightly.

He hugs you tightly. “I really am proud of you, y/n.” he says into your hair. You smile against his shoulder. “Me too.”

You break the hug and he frowns slightly. “Guess it’s you and me for a while now bud.” he says looking at his palm.

“Jimin, I just had an emotional epiphany, and it only took you two seconds to be gross again?” “That’s why you love me.” he laughs trying to give you another hug. You laugh, pushing him by the shoulders. “Fuck off, Park.” — The sun hits your skin warming it despite the cool breeze, music playing your ears as your feet keep a steady rhythm against the pavement below you. Your late morning jog becoming more of a nature walk with the changing seasons. The greenery returning and the sweet smell it provides makes your limbs feel a bit lighter. You nearly throw a punch when someone starts jogging next to you. You stumble slightly after you nearly run into a sign. When you pull your ear buds out he’s laughing at you.

“Careful there.” Jungkook laughs, continuing to match your pace. “You scared the fuck out of me.” you huff steadying yourself. “What are you doing?” “Um-” He looks at you and then his feet. “Jogging?”

“Astute observation,” you smile in spite of yourself. “I mean why are you following me, creep?” you laugh. “I was jogging on the other side of the street and when I saw you I thought I’d join.” he shrugs. “I guess that’s allowed.” Neither of you talks for a few minutes, nothing but your shoes fitting the sidewalk and your heavy breaths filling your ears.

Normally with a silence like this your mind would shuffle through the files of your mind, bringing a similar memory to the forefront, good or bad. But you come up blank. You inhale deeply deciding to file this under ‘Something New.’

“Are you getting tired?” He asks. “No?”

“Good.” he smiles and tries to wink before he picks up his pace, pulling ahead of you. “A race? What are you, twelve?” you laugh running faster.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over me winning!” he calls over his shoulder, and you groan at the considerable distance he’s put between you.

“You’re an asshole!” you pick up your speed fully running ahead of him.

You laugh and chase each other halfway across town, if you could see how you look you would probably be embarrassed, but you can’t be bothered to think about anything but the wind hitting your face and the idiot you’re running with.

He stops in front of a small market, and contrary to how you struggle to catch your breath, your lungs feel fuller than they have in years.

“Do you wanna get ice cream?” he questions, eyeing the banner in the store window.

“Won’t that negate all the exercise we just did?” you breathe, wiping sweat off your forehead. “And?” “You make a strong argument.” you say pushing the door to the corner store open and sighing when the air condition hits you like a refreshing wall. You walk straight to the large freezer to pick out your respective flavors.

You wordlessly decide to walk home in favor of more running, talking about nothing between bites of your cold treats, and you can’t help but think the flowers smell a little sweeter. — You have more work to catch up on than you normally do, you opt for having lunch at your desk so you can work through your break. You have your lunch to your side as your fingers click away on your keyboard.

Something being placed gently on your desk draws your attention away from your screen. You look over too a coffee cup with ‘I’m sorry’ written on it and with a sheepish looking Tae with his hand still wrapped around it. “I’m sorry.” he says looking guilty. “Tae-”

“I acted like a complete ass the other day.” he interrupts before you can even fully think of a response. “Well I won’t argue with that.” you soften and he looks the slightest bit relieved. “I just care about you, and I don’t trust him.” he reiterates his statement from a few days prior.

“This apology was going so well.” you half laugh.

“But!” he adds quickly. “But, I trust you. And if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me.” he says with large eyes, nudging the coffee toward you in the hopes you’ll accept his regret. “Thank you, Tae.” you say taking a sip of the bittersweet drink, appreciating his sincerity. Truth be told, you had already begun to forgive him, he just wants you to be happy. If he expresses his concerns in a less assholistic way next time, you’d be happy to listen. “And I won’t stand in your way if you want to date him.” he smiles. “Like you could, I can kick your ass Kim.” you laugh. “And what is it with you and us dating? I promise you, it’s not like that.”

“Awfully defensive for someone who has no reason to be.” he eyes you with a stupid smirk.

“I just forgave you, don’t push it.” you point a finger and he raises his hands in defense though he doesn’t drop the taunting smirk on his face. He walks backwards to his desk and sits in his chair giving you a nod as one last confirmation that you’ve forgiven him. You continue your work, the air feeling light in the station for the first time since your fight. So focused on your pile of tasks you don’t even notice it’s dark out until the phone rings and makes you look up from your computer.

“Hello, this is Officer y/l.”

“Hello dear, this is Mrs. Choi.” she says sweetly. It’s like clockwork with this fucking lady. “Could you possibly send an officer to this side of town? I saw a young man in a black hoodie hop the fence to the old place.” Well that is far more description than usual.

“Of course, I’ll go make sure everything is okay.” you reassure.

“It’s appreciated as always, Miss y/n.” she says before she hangs up.

“Mrs. Choi?” Tae asks lazily, not even lifting his eyes from his computer.

“Yep.” you say tossing your jacket on.

“Do you want me to check on it?” now he’s looking at you, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“No, I’ll be fine.” you smile. More than fine this time.

Your drive to the old house feels way more like a normal patrol than it ever has, the air feeling like a fog has been cleared. Or perhaps you’re just getting a little too used to Mrs. Choi’s usual request.

You walk down the familiar dirt driveway and your eyebrows furrow when you see a light in the window. Incredible, the old woman who cried wolf is actually right.

“Police!” you shout before you turn the doorknob, your guard not too high as you’re expecting a harmless teenager. Though you’re surprised when you find Jungkook sitting against the wall at the edge of the tattered living room, his legs bent with his forearms resting on them and a bottle of whiskey by his hip. “I’m not here to damage any property.” he says calmly, raising his hands above his head in a lazy surrender. “What are you doing here?” you ask and point your flashlight at the ceiling to better light the space, the light on his phone not doing very much by itself.

“It was something of a quiet place for me. I guess old habits die hard.” he said patting the dusty wall he’s leaning against.

“It was for me too.” you breathe, you look around the room taking in how it’s become even more run down and not quite as beautiful as you remember but breathtaking even without the fantastical dream cloud your memories have become muddled with. “Did he bring you here too?” he looks at you through his messy hair, much more practiced than you at bringing Yoongi up in conversation.

“Yeah he did.” you smile fondly. “We used to have picnics here all the time during the summer.”

“Sounds romantic.” he says, with a comedic scoff.

“Hey, for a sixteen year old? Peak romance.” you retort and he chuckles, letting his head fall against the wall. “He never told me he brought you here too.” you furrow your brows. “Makes sense though, it was his favorite place.” “Yeah, he brought me here a few times when he could ‘remove the stick from my ass.’” he laughs at the memory. “I never understood, there’s about three inches of dust on everything and all the windows are cracked.” he shakes his head. “But after he was gone, it was the most peaceful place I could find. There’s no place as serene as these four shitty walls.” he smiles looking up at you. “It was far less peaceful for me after the accident. The silence coming from this place was deafening for a long time.” you take a seat next to him. “But it’s not so bad anymore.” you hum, eyes scanning the room. You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes letting the sound of the crickets fill your ears, doing your best to not disrupt the stillness around you.

“I want to thank you.” your mouth making the decisions for you once again. “I missed you a lot and spending time with you has been really nice. I’ve been able to face things again that I didn’t think I ever would.” you steady your breath. “So, thank you.”

“I should thank you too.” he begins, and you turn to watch the way his profile moves when he speaks. “I can’t recall a time I smiled when thinking of him. It feels nice to reminisce, not just remember and wish he was still here.”

“God, he wouldn’t recognize either of us.” you say looking down at your uniform and Jungkook’s dirtied jeans.

“He’d kick both our asses.” you laugh.

“You know for a long time,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I was upset because I lost the boy I was in love with.” he shifts a bit. “But somewhere along the way, it became less about being in love and more that someone I cared for so deeply was gone. I don’t know when or where I fell out of love, but it took me a long time to realize that I had.” “I don’t think falling in or out of love can be pinned to a single moment. You just kinda have to take a step back every so often to assess how fucked you currently are.” he laughs, leaning his head on yours. “How vulgar yet profound.” you smile and lace your fingers together. Your mind is running at a dull roar. You had never actually said you weren’t in love with Yoongi out loud before, not even to yourself. You suppose on some level you’ve known for years but saying it made you aware of just how true it was, like you’d been standing on a diving board for ages and finally took the leap that wasn’t so scary after all. You’d still give your left arm to have him there with you now, whether you were still just as in love or maybe just a friend. You still loved him but maybe… I’m not in love anymore. Before you have a chance to explore that thought further you feel Jungkook’s lips on yours, you gasp slightly and move your mouth with his, humming at how soft his lips are.

Despite your realization, when you close your eyes you’re overwhelmed with how familiar this feels. The stale smell of the wood around you and images of Yoongi kissing you right where you’re sitting flashing through your mind. Suddenly your heart is beating in your ears and just as quickly as it began you break the kiss.

“Fuck, y/n I’m so sorry.” he says when his eyes meet yours again. “No don’t be, it’s okay.” you say, trying but failing to keep your voice steady as you stand. He gets up to follow you but his feet seem to be stuck. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry about it.” you force a smile. “I should get back to work, I’ll see you Guk.” You say trying to ignore how your throat wants to close. He doesn’t answer, just watches as you close the door behind you, leaving him alone in the empty house. The sense of serenity he found within these walls fades as the light of your flashlight gets further away.

You pull out of the driveway, and remember why you were here in the first place when you see Mrs. Choi’s house across the street. You decide to say fuck it and drive back to the station and hope that she just went to bed. — You (2:30am): Sorry I left. I just need to think

Jungkook (2:37am): No I’m sorry, take your time

You read the same two texts over for what has to be the three hundredth time in the last few days. For a long time you stared at it unsure if you should respond, and then too much time had passed.

Not even texting could be simple with Jungkook.

But where the paradox lies is, if you stop thinking, the smile you hold when you’re with him is the simplest thing you’ve ever done.

Just like the texts you play the kiss in your mind on a loop, your lips tingling at the memory. The old house under your feet and Jungkook’s arms around you crosses too many wires in your brain for anything to make sense.

All you know is… when he kissed your lips you felt like you could breathe again. — You’re sitting on your couch when you hear a frantic knocking at your door. You jump at the sound and check the time. 11:30? What the hell? Your training kicks in and you approach your door and open it slowly.

“Okay listen, I’m so fucking sorry.” Jungkook rambles frantically pushing past you beginning to pace around your living room. “It was fucked up to kiss you, but I just- your eyes looked so beautiful and- shit that’s not the point.” he runs a hand through his hair trying to collect his thoughts. “Guk, it’s okay. You don’t need to-”

“I know what I did was shitty but we haven’t talked in days, and I can’t bear to not have you in my life again.” he’s on the verge of yelling at this point. “This time since I’ve been home with you is the most alive I’ve felt since I was fucking fifteen.”

“I’m not upset with y-”

“I know, I wouldn’t forgive me either, but I needed to try and-”

“Oh for fucks sake.” you mumble as he continues to ramble. You take in a breath. “I wanted you to kiss me!”

“I-” he finally stops, nearly out of breath. “You what?” “I wanted you to kiss me, that’s what scared me.” you clarify now that he’s listening.

He just blinks unsure of what to say. He imagined this going far differently, something more along the mine of you slamming the door in his face, but you didn’t and his heart swells as he takes in your words. “I want it too.” you continue though you’re unsure where you’re going. “I love you, Jungkook, and I can’t get your stupid pretty smile out of my head and-”

“You love me?” the words falling from his mouth softly, and his gaze fixes on your face.

“Yes.” you breathe realizing what you just said. “And it scares the shit out of me.”

“How do you think I feel? I’m in love with my deceased brother’s ex.” he counters, laughing at how ridiculous your situation is, and your heart can’t help but race at his bittersweet words. “But you’re the first time I’ve felt home in forever.” he says, his eyes hiding behind messy bangs.

“Me too.” you admit, and the air in your lungs feels lighter. “I know he would want us to follow our hearts but… like this?” you ask sheepishly, maintaining the distance between you as if neither of you are allowed to cross the invisible threshold.

“I think that even if you guys got the opportunity to break up like two normal ass teenagers…”  he begins, his face full of concern but his eyes filled with the hope that you’ll agree. “He always wanted everyone he cared about to be happy, and fuck y/n, you make me so happy. You always have.” There’s those stars again.

“But I feel guilty.” your eyes threatening to water for the first time in a long time, and your lips tingle at the memory of Jungkook’s lips on yours. “Me too.” he takes a step closer to you. “But we don’t have to. We can-” “No, you don’t understand.” you interrupt and he deflates. “I feel guilty because even though we’re talking about him… I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want you to kiss me again.” “Fuck, okay.” he says as if you had just stolen the air from his lungs. He quickly closes the gap between you and reconnects your lips. You put your arms around his neck and attempt to pull him as close as you can, his hands are warm on your jaw and the dream cloud in your mind feels as if it’s been wrapped around the two of you. A blanket of home that you didn’t know had been missing until you had it again.

You run your fingers through his hair and savor how it feels in your hands. He licks into your mouth and his heavy breaths feel hot between kisses. He feels almost frantic as you feel his nails gently dig into the sides of your neck, as though you’d slip out of his grasp if he doesn’t tighten his grip, the dull pressure making you moan into his mouth.

You put your hands on his and he relaxes his fingers. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging it lightly and he groans at the sensation, your thighs rub together at how you’re affecting him.

You wordlessly guide him to the couch and nudge him gently until his shoulders are flush with the back of the couch. You straddle him and his thighs flex underneath your ass, you resist the urge to grind down onto him in favor of kissing along his jaw.

His tense shoulders release under your hands as your lips continue their path to his neck. Your teeth graze his skin and his breath catches in your ear, you smirk and bite down harder. His hands quickly grab onto your hips squeezing them in tandem with your mouth, you run your tongue along his reddened skin and your sounds create the most beautiful harmony you’ve ever heard.

Your hips give into temptation and grind down on his hardened dick, the layers between you not doing much in the way of friction but the way his hands tighten around your waist send heat through you melting you from the inside out.

Your hand snakes between you to palm him through his jeans and you move your head up to face him, to see how sweet he looks with his eyes squeezed shut and lips parted from your touch. He reconnects your mouths and the kiss is messy as neither of you can properly think.

You break the kiss and quickly slip to your knees between his thighs. You tuck your fingers into his waistband and pause your movement, eyes searching for his. “Is this okay?” you ask with a slight tug to his pants, he answers by smirking lazily and helping you slide them down his hips.

You pull his boxers down and your mouth waters when you see his dick, the tip a frustrated shade of red. You run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of this length, wrapping your lips around it when you reach the tip. He groans as if he’s relieved to finally have your lips wrapped around him. He grips your hair tightly, fingers flexing against your scalp as he fights the urge to push your head down to his base.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.” he says out of breath, working against his flexing abdomen to keep his voice steady. You hum around him in response making his hips stutter against your mouth, and arousal pools at your core.

You sink your mouth as far down as you can and he moans deeply holding your head in place beginning to thrust into your mouth to test the waters. You grip his thighs to ground yourself and do your best to ignore the way your lungs are beginning to burn. He picks up his pace and you take his cock in your throat until tears prick in your eyes. You tap his thigh and he takes the hint releasing your head so you can breath again.

“You like having your pretty mouth fucked, don’t you?” he questions as he wipes a tear from your eye with his thumb. You nod eagerly and move to take his cock back in your mouth but his grip on your hair stops you. “Patience beautiful,” his eyes darken looking at your swollen lips. “Open.” he says, his voice low. You oblige, flatting your tongue for good measure, he spits in your mouth and his cock twitches at the sight. He lowers your lips back on his dick, the extra wetness making him groan at how messy you look, and you try to keep your throat as relaxed as you can, doing your best to ignore the growing arousal between your legs.

He breaks his assault on your mouth, pulling your head up with a wet pop and you gasp. “Can I taste you too, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly despite how ready he looks to devour you.

“Yes Sir.” you answer and his pupils twitch at the name.

“You’re gonna ruin me.” he laughs stiffly, releasing your hair and you realize how sore your scalp is.

You stand on shaky legs, he sheds his shirt and you follow suit before laying on the couch in front of him. You tuck your fingers in your waistband but he stops you. “Let me.” He says his eyes softening and you relent.

He puts his large palm on your waist and kisses your lips slowly contradicting his previous actions. He leaves hot open mouthed kisses on your neck and down your chest, the wet trail he leaves behind feeling cold when the air hits it. He wraps his mouth around one of your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue and teasing his teeth on the sensitive skin.

Your moan catches in your throat as he bites down and your hand tangles in his hair trying to pull him closer. His free hand runs up your arm removing it from his head and pinning against the cushion gently, you lace your fingers together and you can feel him smile against your chest.

His mouth doing little to relieve the real fire you’re feeling growing deep in your abdomen. You give into the urge to move your hips against his waist and he chuckles deeply taking the hint and continuing his path down your stomach, nipping at your skin when he reaches the hem of your pants.

His breathing picks up again as he slips your pants down your legs and the wet spot on your underwear is exposed to his gaze. He takes his time removing your panties, reveling in the string of your slick that follows. “Such a pretty pussy.” he breathes quietly just to himself.

He tosses them on the floor and eagerly puts your thighs on his shoulders placing gentle pecks anywhere but where you need his mouth. You roll your hips to meet his face and he smirks darkly at your frustration. After properly enjoying your wordless plea he gives you what you want, licking a long flat stripe from your entrance to your clit and you whine at the small bit of relief he’s giving you.

“Did you get this wet just from sucking my cock, sweetheart?” you deflate slightly at his teasing and nod, clenching around nothing at his words. He swallows a groan at the sight in front of him.

He wastes no time wrapping his lips around your clit, swirling tongue in delicious circles. A moan rips out of your throat at the sudden stimulation and he groans wrapping his arms tighter around your thighs.

You move your hips against his face and he shifts his mouth to collect your juices on his tongue before moving back up to your clit. You fight how your thighs want to close around his head but he only presses himself further into you at the shaking against his ears.

You feel him at your entrance, stretching you slowly with two fingers as he continues his work on your clit. He curls his digits into you and your hips buck at the sensation.

“That’s my good girl, fuck yourself on my tongue.” he moans into your folds, flattening his tongue for you to use. He picks up the pace of his hand and you rut against his mouth. The sounds you’ve been swallowing down flowing out of your lips before you can stop them.

“Jungkook, fuck!” you whine and he scissors his fingers faster to bring you to your rapidly approaching peak. Your walls clench and your rhythm falters, he wraps his lips around your clit sucking as he does. Your orgasm rips through you and onto his fingers with a loud moan.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says breathless, he almost sounds amazed that someone can look so beautiful when they cum.

He quickly climbs over you, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand and reconnecting your lips as soon as he reaches your face, he can’t get enough of your lips and you moan at your taste on his mouth.

He slips his pants down his legs, and lines himself up with your entrance, gasping at your wetness on his painfully hard cock. His eyes widen “I didn’t bring a-”

“I’m on the pill.” you reassure, grinding up against his dick.

“Thank fuck.” he sighs, pushing his cock in as he does. Your eyes close at the stretch he’s providing. He pushes in rather slowly savoring every small clench and twitch your walls give him.

He’s quick to pick up the pace seeing as you were more than happy when he was rough earlier. You moan at how well he fucks into you, you hold onto his arms as you’re afraid you’ll float away if you don’t anchor yourself. He smacks his hips against you harder and you gasp at how deep he is, trying your best not to yelp.

He wraps his arm around your back and takes a handful of your hair, yanking against your sore scalp until your chin is pointing at the ceiling, and you can’t contain your moans with your neck so open. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Give me all those beautiful sounds.” he says into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck.

With your new position you’re a moaning mess underneath him and you feel him smirk against your skin as he delivers particularly hard thrusts, the sound of your moans and slapping skin filling the room..

He continues his relentless pace, watching you in awe. “Such a pretty slut.” he groans. “Look at you falling apart on my cock.” you can only whimper in response. He rubs your clit so he can watch your eyes roll back, doing his best to ignore his approaching orgasm so he can feel you cum again on his cock.

“I’m- fucking- I’m gonna-.” you try to warn doing your best to keep your voice steady.

“Good girl, cum for me, beautiful.” he soothes, lacing his finger with yours, mumbling praises into your ear as you clench around him, his hips work hard to keep their pace through your orgasm.

With his not far behind, he thrusts faster finally letting go. He reconnects your lips, the kiss hot and messy as his end is finally in sight.

His hips stutter. “I love you.” He breathes as he releases into you, falling against you shortly after and you laugh, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes while he catches his breath.

“I love you, too.” you whisper and he hums holding you tightly.

“I could get used to hearing that.” he smiles brightly, before he kisses you slowly. — “So…” you begin after the two of you are showered. Jungkook is sitting on the end of your bed ruffling his damp hair. “So?” he perks up, taking your hands in his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you say squeezing his hands, still a little nervous despite the several ‘I love you’s and how your heart pounds when you look in eyes. Still a little nervous that if you hold on too tight he’ll slip through your fingers. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” he says leaning into your touch, and his words calm your racing heart.

“Okay.” you smile brightly, and he can’t help but mirror you.

“Hey.” he says, making sure you’re giving him your full attention, and you meet his gaze. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” — You stand next to Jungkook, fingers laced tightly together, as you stare down the familiar dirt driveway.

“You ready?” he asks, still looking straight ahead at the chicken wire fence.

“No.”

“Yeah, me either.”

He squeezes your hand in his as you walk through the dirt and into the old house, same as you left it. You walk past the living room into the furthest bedroom where Yoongi’s mark is most prominent in the house. You stop at the corner where he carved that heart in the wall that, besides some dust, looks just like the day he put it there.

“Hi Hyung,” Jungkook begins. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to talk to you in a long time.” he looks a tad nervous as if he’ll be reprimanded, he squeezes your hand and you rub your thumb over his knuckles. “I found her,” he says, sounding more sure of himself. “And I wanted you to meet her. Are you surprised?”

“We are too.” you breathe out a laugh. “Hey Yoongs,” your voice is a little shaky. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I just didn’t know how.” you breathe. “I miss you, and I want you to know that I’m happy.” you reassure, remembering how he always checked. “We’re happy.” you put your other hand on Jungkook’s.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” He adds, placing a kiss on your temple.

“And I’ll take care of him.” you say, and you both put your hand on the heart gently. That final breath that was taken from you those years ago returns and your lungs finally feel full again, and you open your mouth to speak.

“I love you, angel.”

————————

A/N -> Hello! I hope you liked it!!! I’m really proud of this one, feel more than free to send me an ask with your thoughts, I’d love to know what you thought. <3

Tag List -> @ancailinaerach​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @bunnyboyenthusiast​ @singularity-mp3​ 

[themetaphorgirl]

this is completely out of the blue but i just imagine spencer with a fear of heights that he doesn’t really realize until maybe he’s exploring campus one might and he gets stuck up in the rafters of the chapel, staring down and being too stuck with fear to move and hotch/morgan eventually find him and carry him down. either that or he terrifies the other kids because he sometimes climbs trees to read in and get so HIGH and hes so SMALL and “dear god, spencer, you’re not a CAT” - 🐇

hi yes hello I am physically incapable of writing short drabbles

but I hope y’all like it!!!!

----------

Really, it was Emily’s fault.

The St. Thaddeus campus was covered in tall trees, broad oaks and sap-covered pines and twisting dogwoods, and while it was strictly against the rules to climb trees, and the school groundskeeper was notorious for losing his mind at anyone caught...Emily had never been one for following rules.

And once Emily started climbing trees, Derek couldn’t abide being outdone, so he had to climb higher than her, and faster. And he started teasing JJ, who wouldn’t stand for that, so she would climb up and join them too.

Penelope was adamantly against climbing trees (“I am in a skirt and heels and there is too much nature, let me sit on my picnic blanket in peace, thank you very much”) and Hotch was a stickler for rules (“it’s not worth the risk, and you guys should get down”). Alex sometimes settled for a lower branch, broad and solid enough to stretch out her legs and read a book, and James sometimes joined her. Dave subscribed to Penelope’s theories (“I’m not scuffing these shoes up. They’re brand new. Italian leather.”) and stayed on solid ground.

Spencer was just jealous.

He was the smallest of all of them; Penelope was the next shortest and he didn’t even reach her shoulder. There was one particular pine that he could climb onto the lowest branches, but besides being small for his age, he didn’t have the muscles in his skinny little arms to pull himself up higher. On more than one occasion Emily and Derek had offered to hoist him up to a taller branch, but he was so personally offended that they just laughed and left him to struggle on the ground by himself.

“You’ll grow eventually, passerotto,” Emily had said, ruffling his hair and making him scowl in embarrassment. “For now you’re just our little munchkin.”

“I’m not a baby, Emily!” he had shot back. “I’m ten!”

After a while it got too cold to sit outside in trees, and they retreated to the coffee shop in the student union or the seventh floor common room in Lincoln House, or the library while Alex worked, and tree climbing was forgotten.

They also forgot how stubborn Spencer was.

The door to Spencer and Derek’s shared room was open; Hotch knocked lightly for formality’s sake and peeked in. “Hey, bedchecks,” he said. “You guys okay?”

Derek pulled off his headphones. “Huh?”

“Bedchecks,” Hotch repeated. “How are you and…” He stopped. “Where’s Spencer?”

Derek looked around the small room. “Uh...no idea,” he said. “He was here, though, I’m pretty sure.”

Hotch checked his watch. “Okay, well, he’s never missed bedchecks before,” he said. “Is he in the bathroom?”

“Maybe,” Derek said, sliding off his bed. 

There was no sign of Spencer in the bathroom, or the common room, or the lobby of Lincoln House. “God, we need to get him a phone,” Hotch said. He rubbed his temples. “Okay. When did you see him last?”

“He was at dinner,” Derek offered. “Maybe he’s with Alex? Or the girls?”

“Text Penelope, her phone’s glued to her hand and she’ll answer faster than JJ,” Hotch said. “I’ll text Alex. But she’s always gotten Spencer back here on time for bedchecks.”

Derek held up his phone first.

pen ~*baby girl*~ garcia 8:14pm noooo I havent seen boy wonder since dinner!!

“And then it’s just a bunch of emojis,” Derek said. Hotch’s phone buzzed. “What did Alex say?”

mom friend miller 8:15pm I don’t have him. did you lose him???

Hotch groaned. “God, we lost him,” he said. 

“Should we go looking for him?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, I have to,” Hotch said. 

Derek scowled. “Hey, I’m coming with you,” he said. Hotch opened his mouth to argue. “Yeah, I know, I’m an underclassmen and I’m supposed to be in my room by eight. Fuck that, you’re my RA and you don’t have to report me to Gideon. And let’s be real, Gideon won’t care.”

Hotch sighed. “All right, fine,” he said. “I’ll text Alex and Emily too. But I’m not letting JJ and Penelope get in trouble.”

Hotch’s phone buzzed again; Derek leaned over his arm and snickered at the screen.

the cause of my headaches prentiss 8:17pm holy shit hotchner did you lose a whole ass child?????????

“Okay, okay, let’s just go,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes.

They grabbed jackets before they left; it wasn’t snowing yet but the November air had a sharp cold bite. It was already dark, and Hotch tried to stifled the worry beginning to crawl at the back of his neck.

The girls met them in the courtyard. Emily had already washed off her makeup and tied her hair up in a scraggly excuse for a ponytail. “How’d you lose Spencer?” she asked. 

“I didn’t lose him!” Hotch protested.

“Emily, tease him later when we’ve found Spencer,” Alex said. She jammed her hands in her coat pockets and her long hair spilled over her shoulders. “Where’s the last place someone saw him?”

“Dinner,” Hotch said. “He must have slipped off somewhere without anybody noticing. I don’t know where he could have gone. Or why he would have gone.”

“I don’t think he would have gone back in the main building, I’m usually one of the last ones out of there and it’s locked up tight,” Alex said.

“He’s got to be somewhere on campus,” Emily said, tugging the zipper of her North Face jacket. “And I don’t think he would have wandered too far.”

“We’ll split up,” Hotch said. “Just stay in contact. Text the group chat in fifteen minutes with any updates.”

They headed in their separate directions; Hotch pulled his hood up as the wind started to blow. It wasn’t like Spencer to wander off without telling anyone where he was going, or without getting back to his dorm by curfew. 

He wouldn’t worry yet. Or at least, not acknowledge that he was worried. 

He’d almost reached the end of the fifteen-minute window when he got to the overgrown fence around the abandoned amphitheater. That would make sense- the older kids had shown it to them at the beginning of the school year and it was one of their most common hang out spots before the weather had gotten too cold.

He reached through the ivy covering the gates and rattled the latch.

“Hello?”

He nearly pissed himself.

“Who said that?” he said, a little too sharply. He wrestled with the gate, trying to forcibly yank it open.

“Hotch?”

He stopped. He knew that voice.

“Spencer?” he said. “Where are you?”

“...up here.”

He let go of the latch and took a step back. “What do you mean, ‘up here’?” he said.

Several tall trees flanked the amphitheater. The branches of a particularly tall pine rattled. “I mean...up here,” Spencer said.

Hotch looked up. He could see a little figure huddled on a branch about fifteen feet above the ground. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” he said.

“I might have miscalculated,” Spencer said in a small, wobbly voice. “I just wanted to practice.”

“Practice climbing trees?” Hotch said. “Spencer. It’s past bedchecks. The sun’s gone down. It’s freezing.”

“I was only going to be out here for a little while!” he protested. “I just...climbed a little higher than usual. And then I realized something.”

“That you’d made a terrible, terrible mistake?” Hotch said dryly.

“Uh-huh.”

Hotch sighed. “So you climbed too high and you can’t get back down?” he said.

A pause. “Uh-huh.”

Hotch pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Let me text the others,” he said, typing out a message to the group chat. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m very tired of sitting on a tree branch that does not have enough stability, but other than that, I’m okay,” Spencer said. “And...I might be a little cold.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Hotch said. He peered up in the dark tree branches; he could just barely make out Spencer’s silhouette. “Well, we’ll get you down. But I may tell Gideon you missed bedchecks.”

“No, Hotch, please, don’t get me in trouble!” Spencer protested. “I’ll be good! I won’t do it again!”

Derek jogged towards them. “Hotch, you found him?” he called. Hotch silently pointed upwards. “Holy shit. What’re you doing up there, pretty boy?”

“Regretting all my life choices that brought me to this point!”

“You’re only ten. How many life choices have you made so far?”

“Enough to regret this! Please get me down!”

Derek grinned, his hands on his hips. “Should we let him sit up there a little longer, let him think about what he’s done?” he asked.

“No, I think he’s suffered enough,” Hotch said. “You climb up and get him, I’ll spot.”

Derek pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “All right, all right, I’ll get him,” he said.

Hotch crossed his arms and watched as Derek climbed easily up the pattern of branches. “Be careful,” he called.

“Why are you talking to a tree, Hotchner?” Emily asked.

He glanced back at the girls. “I’m not talking to a tree, I’m talking to the child prodigy stuck in a tree,” he said.

Alex sighed heavily. “Oh, lord,” she said. “Spencer? Are you okay?”

“I’ll be better when I’m out of here!”

“Is Emily here?” Derek said. “Can you climb up a little and spot?”

“Yeah, I can!” she said. She pulled herself up, her long legs in her flannel pajama pants still visible but her upper half vanishing into the trees.

“Don’t drop him!” Hotch warned.

“Yeah, please, don’t drop me!”

It was a slow process, but eventually they got Spencer back onto solid ground. His knees buckled the second Derek put him down. “Give me a second, give me a second,” he sighed, pressing his hands over his face. “Oh my god.”

Hotch crouched down beside him. “What have we learned?” he asked.

“I’m never climbing trees again,” Spencer said, slightly muffled. “Never again. The ground was so far away.”

“Not a fan of heights?” Emily teased.

“Any hopes I had of being an astronaut have been officially dashed.”

“You could have gotten seriously hurt, Spencer,” Alex said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He huddled on the ground, his face still covered. “I was tired of everybody teasing me!” he said. “I thought that maybe...I could practice now, and then in the spring nobody would tease me for not being able to climb trees...and...and it’s extremely childish now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“It is childish,” Hotch said. “Alex is right, you could have gotten hurt. And what if we hadn’t come looking for you? You could have-”

Spencer raised his head, and the tear tracks on his cheeks were shiny in the moonlight. “Can you yell at me tomorrow, please?” he asked.

Hotch softened. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said. “Not yelling, I promise. But we’re going to have a talk.” Spencer nodded, his lower lip trembling. “And I won’t tell Gideon, as long as you promise to never pull a stunt like this again.”

Spencer nodded again. Hotch held out his hand to help him off ground and he took it, wobbling to his feet. “I promise I’ll never pull a stunt like this again,” he said. 

Emily pulled him into a hug. “And I’ll lay off on teasing you, okay? I’m calling a truce,” she said. She frowned and pushed him back to hold him at arm’s length. “You are freezing. Jesus.”

“Hotch, give me your hoodie,” Alex said. He took it off quickly and she slid Spencer’s arms through the sleeves and zipped up the front. The cuffs dangled past his small hands. 

“I updated the group chat,” Derek said. “Dave and James were about ready to drive over here and help look.”

Spencer’s lower lip wobbled. Alex hugged him tightly and he wrapped his arms around her waist, hiding his face against her stomach. “Come on, darling, let’s get you back to your room and warmed up,” she said. 

“Yeah, Penelope and JJ are making hot chocolate,” Derek said.

“Oh, I’m definitely coming back with you guys,” Emily saiid.

Spencer peeked out from the safety of Alex’s hug. “There’s still marshmallows, right?” he asked. 

Hotch playfully tugged his jacket hood over his head. “As long as you didn’t eat all of them,” he said. 

Spencer pushed back the hood and grinned. “I might have left a couple,” he said. “You know, I could see the creek from all the way up there.”

“Oh, yeah?” Emily said. She ruffled his hair. “Maybe you’ll try this again later, when you’re a little taller. I bet you’ll be taller than me someday.”

“Not taller than me, though,” Derek said. “Almost, though.”

[jung-snoopy-woo]

How I Met Your Grandfather

~ Chapter 6 ~

(Gif credit: @ stay_shittizen_via Pinterest/Wattpad)

Other Chapters: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 (coming soon)

Pairing: Bang Chan × Fem! Reader, Twin brother! Felix Lee.

Genre: Fluff, mostly angst.

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: mentions of the same insecurities from last chapter, mentions of (almost) death.

Summary: You ask for advice from your older sister as tomorrow you're going to your first date with Chan, and both her and Olivia- your younger sister, encourage you. Chan decides to work in his studio until his date with Y/N, then Felix comes unexpectedly and tells him what's on his mind. After Felix left, Chan keeps working despite being tired, but eventually falls asleep.

A/N: hello hello :) I actually finished this part a few days ago but it felt too short (still does zksgnsaj) and I wanted to make some small changes too so it took me a while 🙈🙈

Hope you enjoy!! Thank you all for reading ♥️♥️

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"Just be yourself and I can assure you, he will fall for you in seconds", your older sister, Rachael, said. You both were sitting on her bed, as she was trying to encourage and calm you down. It was Wednesday night and Felix was staying in the dorms since yesterday, so you decided to ask for advice from Rachael, as you finally realized that tomorrow is your first date with Chris and you don't even know what you're supposed to do or say.

"There's no need to plan anything.. I mean, what did you plan on doing? Memorizing things and then saying them to him?", She asked jokingly. The thought of you searching for cheap pickup lines online and using them on Chris later, made you two burst into laughter.

"Are we talking about Chris oppa?", You and Rachael turned to see Olivia's head peeking inside. She then smirked. "I know he really likes Y/N".

"Oh, you do?", You asked, amused by your younger sister's words and the silly look on her face. "How come?"

"Well..", she started making her way to join you two on Rachael's bed, sitting between you and Rachael. "Remember the day Felix's friends were here? Well, I didn't even get to say anything to him because he'd talk to you most of the time and looked at you like this.. ", she said, mockingly imitating Chris as she started widening her eyes and coming closer to your face. "Oh, and there's another thing...", She started, but stopped once she saw Rachael's eyes signing her that she's already said more than enough.

"What is it?", You asked with curiosity. You saw Rachael's look too, and knew these two were hiding something from you. "I know this look, Rachael", you said.

"Well, he--", Olivia started.

"Asked you out... Of course", Rachael said quickly. Very smooth, Rachael, you thought, of course it was very obvious that this wasn't what they were talking about, but you decided to leave the topic, thinking it probably wasn't that important.

"So... before I came in I heard you two talking", Olivia finally said. "And I agree with what Rachael eonni said. Just be yourself, he already likes you! I mean, he was the one to ask YOU out"

"And you and him are both super sweet and kind", Rachael added. "Just relax and go to sleep, I'm sure he's just as nervous!!"

You sighed. Despite being nervous still, their words did help. "Thank you", you said and hugged your older sister. "And you too", you turned to Olivia, ruffled her hair a little and hugged her too.

"Goodnight", you said, turning off the light in Rachael's room as you and Olivia left to go back to your rooms.

"Goodnight, sis", Rachael said. "And good luck tomorrow, show him how great you are!"

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Chan was busy, just like every other day.

It was Thursday morning, which means he's going to the beach with Y/N in a few hours. He decided to go sit in his studio and work on some new stuff until it's time to go, this way he could relax too.

"Excited for today?", Felix's voice surprised Chan. He turned to look at the younger boy, but before he could say anything, Felix continued. "Don't worry, I'm not here to threaten you this time", he said with a small chuckle after seeing Chris's look. "I wanted to wish you good luck and... to apologize".

"Felix, it's--"

"No, no, I have to... After seeing how happy you both are about this...", he said, shaking his head, then looked at Chan. "I'm really sorry for not approving this at first. I know you'll be good to her".

Chan froze. There were so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to promise that he will never ever hurt Y/N. He wanted to tell him that it's okay and that he understands where his disapproval was coming from. "Thank you...", He finally said, but was cut by Felix's hug.

"Sorry I came here so unexpectedly.", Felix said on his way out. "I just really had to let this out before you go so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or something"

"It's absolutely fine, you're always welcome to surprise me here", Chan said with a giggle. "And thank you again"

"It's all good!", the younger said with a smile. "good luck!"

After Felix left, Chan was working for hours, with almost no breaks. I wish I could sleep more last night, he though as he let out another yawn. Too many thoughts were on his mind last night- how much work he has, you, a new line he could add to the lyrics of one of the new songs, you again. He felt his eyes getting heavier with every minute passing. You can't sleep now ,Your date is in 2 hours, he told himself. But maybe just for 10 minutes? A part of him thought. 10 minutes of sleep aren't going to kill anyone...

He woke up, immediately checking the time on his phone.

6:07pm.

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You got to the beach a bit earlier, as you wanted to be mentally prepared for this. You baked chocolate-chips cookies and cut some fresh fruits, and decided to place them nicely in cute plates on the towel you were sitting on, in the spot where you both decided to meet.

You were wearing your swimsuit under a big shirt and black shorts. I'll just do what I always do, you told Felix after Chris's call, and by that you meant 'not taking off my clothes, and getting in the water wearing them'. This shirt was big enough to cover your butt and a bit of your thighs, and you loved it for that.

It was already 4:50pm, but thinking of Chris's shy smile made it easier for you to believe that everything is going to be fine. You suddenly remembered Felix used to tell you of how great their leader is, always willing to help, cares for everyone all the time and so very hardworking. These traits made you trust him, despite not actually knowing him.

5:15pm. You read from your phone screen. He's probably going to be here in a few minutes., You told yourself. The traffic these days...

At least I don't have to worry about the swimsuit, you thought with a bitter smile. You sighed. Maybe this is happening to me because I looked forward to it a bit too much...

5:30pm. At this point, you decided to eat some of the cookies and a few grapes. A part of you wanted to believe he's still going to come and that he's probably on his way. But at 6:00pm you lost hope.

You decided to take off the shirt. He's not coming anyways, you thought. And even if he is... You were on the verge of tears, but you fought them back. The wind was blowing in your hair and you looked at the beautiful waves as they were breaking on the sand. I have cookies and I have fruits and I have the sea... I don't need no man to make me happy. You got up and went inside the water.

The sea always calmed you. You weren't the best swimmer, but it was something about water, even just a small swimming pool, that made you feel so relaxed. Maybe it's better that way, you told yourself. No one's going to get hurt. Well, except from you, of course, but you'll get over it. Just like always.

You were so deep in thought, that you didn't even notice yourself drifting deeper into the sea. It was only when your legs couldn't reach the floor that you realized you should swim back. You tried making your way through the waves but they got bigger and stronger. You were fighting the waves, trying to call for help, but then a huge wave covered you, pushing you into the deep.

As you were drowning, you remembered a moment of you and your family on the beach, years ago. You and Felix were 6 or 7 years old, playing in the water. You two told Olivia that you had powers and could move the water according to your hand movements, and she believed. Your parents and Rachael clapped with surprised looks, as if they also believed in your abilities, that only a few years later you realized were fake. Oh, how you loved these moments you spent with your family...

Then you imagined Chris's voice, calling your name, interrupting your warm memories. Why him, of all people?? You scolded yourself. You wished you'd hear your parents' voice, or any of your siblings, but hearing Chris just made you understand how unlucky you were, even in your last moments. You couldn't even cry as you kept swallowing and breathing in the salty water.

Then your mind went blank.

Everything got black.

[deliberatelyvague]

Forgotten (obey me x m! reader)

Started: May 8, 2020 at 10:44pm

Ended: May 8, 2020 at 11:15pm

Pairing(s): (obey me x m! reader)

Trigger Warning(s): mentions of loneliness, worthlessness (maybe), toxic masculinity in a way I guess, I think that’s it

Author’s Note: why you gotta do me like that 😤🥺 just reading this request made my heart ache. And I also changed it up a little bit, because I don’t play with leaving someone out because of a gender 😤🐝

Request/Prompt: Hmm maybe one where 2 mcs were sent to the devil dom, a boy and a girl. And the boy haveing to watch the others practically fawn over the girl, so he kind of just stays to himself and doesnt leave the room ever. Curious to see what the brothers would say after eventually Noticing him missing and finding him in a crying heap

————

They didn’t even notice. Why would they notice you? You weren’t pretty like her. You weren’t even a girl. Of course those boys would be all over her.

But it still hurt- they had two people to watch over, not just one. You didn’t even get a second look from any of them after the initial greeting.

And it’s not like you could be mad at [MC], she hadn’t done anything, other than maybe ignore you like the others did. But she was in a new surrounding, her first thought was probably to just survive.

Yours had been, too, for the first few days. After you had tried to get yourself used to the Devildom, you just quit. The school was out for two weeks anyway, to help the exchange students get used to the surroundings, and if you had half a mind you would’ve just asked Diavolo to send you back, you didn’t choose nor did you want to be there.

But you didn’t bother asking. It had been a few days where you just sat in your room, busting yourself by rearranging the room to your liking and scrolling though the DDD. None of the brothers tried to contact you, only the angels did. It was almost as if the brother altogether forgot you were there.

It made you angry in a way, the way they dawned over her. It was either jealousy or just protectiveness over your fellow human, you couldn’t tell which had triggered the anger.

They coddled her, acted like she was a weak human, but they assumed you were strong? Or was it because you were a boy, so you could ‘protect yourself’?

Whatever the reason, it made tears of frustration start streaming down. You collapsed to the ground in front of the bed you had moved for the fifth time that day and just cried.

You wanted to go home, you hated it here. Humans were solitary animals, and even though it was partially your fault for distancing yourself, your brain told you they didn’t want to be your friend anyway, so why should you try?

You continued crying until the door opened, and your eyes quickly glanced up.

———

Somewhere in the House of Lamentation, Levi sneezed three quick times. Then three more.

[MC] frowned and looked away from Henry to let her eyes rest of Levi.

“Leviachan, are you alright?” He nodded, wiping at his nose before getting enthralled again by the anime he was watching.

“I sometimes sneeze when people talk about me,” he explained. “If they need me enough, they’ll come find me.”

The door to his room gently opened.

“[Y/N], are you in here?” Lucifer asked, and [MC] glanced over at him.

“No, they’ve never been in here. Is everything alright?”

“We just haven’t seen him in sometime. Do you know where he could be?” [MC] shook her head.

“Other than his bedroom, I don’t know where he would be.”

“Alright, thank you, [MC].” A twisted feeling gathered in her stomach, almost a human intuition. Something bad was happening.

“We should go check in on him, c’mon.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, he’s a big boy,” Levi answered not tearing his gaze away from the TV. [MC] walked in front of him.

“No, you say that every time. Have you even talked to him? C’mon, I have a bad feeling, somethings wrong.”

———

You quickly wiped your eyes as you saw the eldest enter your room, and you stood and turned away from him.

“[Y/N], I came to check in to see if everything’s alright and to confirm classes for next week. It seems as if not everything is alright.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, why would it be? I was ignored by the people that are supposedly supposed to be helping me, and my stupid brain won’t shut up long enough for me to build up the courage to talk to you guys. So yeah, not everything is alright.”

“[Y/N], hasn’t Mammon been watching over you?”

“Lucifer, I can’t even tell you what your guys’ names are with how little I’ve been interacting with the lot of you. Of course he hasn’t been. This is the first conversation I’ve had with any of you, whether it be in person or over the phone.”

You turned to Lucifer slightly. He seemed angry, and you immediately shrunk down, sitting on your bed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, I just-”

“No, it’s quite alright. Thank you for telling me. From now on I’ll show you around, I’m sure that Diavolo will understand. And I’ll see to it that Mammon sees his proper justice get served. Does that sound good?”

You looked up at him.

“I guess,”

The door opened again and in came [MC], and Lucifer glanced over at her. You immediate shrunk down even more into yourself, assuming Lucifer would just go back with her.

“Hey, is everything alright? I got some bad vibes and I just wanted to be sure,” she confronted and Lucifer nodded.

“I believe we got to the root of the source. [Y/N], please be ready by 6:00, we’ll be going on a tour of the Devildom,” Lucifer instructed and you nodded. He then left quickly, to punish Mammon from what you presume.

“How do you like it here so far?” [MC] asked. “Also, sorry for just barging in but back at home when I got a feeling like that something really bad happened.”

“It’s no big deal. And I don’t really know about it here. I don’t really know anybody since they brother were always talking to you.” You said, trying not to sound too snide about it.

[MC] cringed.

“Yeah, no joke. I tried to tell them to go coddle you and that I could protect myself, but they didn’t seem to believe me. They played it off as ‘oh, he can protect himself’ you know like how people do back home,” [MC] came to sit next to you.

“Well, I’d like to change your outlook of this place,” she cheered to you. “We can both learn together, and since you have a good two hours before six, I’ll show you all of my favorite things so far, if that sounds good.”

A small smile came to your face as you nodded.

Even if the brothers didn’t talk to you, you were making a friend that you could take back home with you. And you were fine with that.

————

This was written by me in no way trying to romanticize mental illnesses. I try to write what I feel would help me in the moment. I completely understand that mental illnesses don’t just ‘disappear’ when you’ve figured out that someone loves you or someone helps you once- that’s why I don’t write what happens after in most cases. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust, or call a hotline.