#one of my second graders did break down in tears and her mom had me take a photo with her to have a nice memory when im gone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rkived · 4 years ago

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year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

Note

I saw that u were taking requests (yey) I'd want like a soulmate au (there are numerous kinds but I want u to have freedom to write what kind u want!) but it's just pure angst 😳😳 it could be any member n possibly an open or no happy ending :] I'm just a sucker for angst n think u would write this so well!

Anonymous said: Yoongi x reader, soul mate au, angsty but happy ending pls cuz I'm sensitive 🥺 maybe both soul mates get a weird tattoo, or hear each others thoughts or something else

Both these requests are asking for soulmate AUs, so I’m compiling them together. But one wants it to be angst city and the other wants a happy ending LOL. Guess we’ll see what happens.

↳ The Soulmate Gift

3.6k || 70% Angst, 30% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Soulmate!AU

Warning: depiction of child abuse

It happens when you’re ten.

They told you it was different for everyone, that it usually started during puberty and it was perfectly normal. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to be like this.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You flinch at the noises, the bathroom door quivering against the frame from the pounding on the other side. Your mom shouts, “Get out!”

“Just give me one second!” You look back into the mirror, staring at yourself with seaweed green hair and streaks of bright purple. You look like a clown and you want to cry.

You don’t run into your mom on your way out, so you go to school with a tattered baseball cap, stuffing all of your hair in it. During the trudge to school with a grumbling stomach, you hold the cap tight against your skull, not letting a single strand loose. You’re nervous on the playground, your other hand coming to grip at your backpack strap. But luckily, no one asks.

At least not until you’re inside and getting settled into your desk.

“Good morning, class!” Mrs. An struts into the room, beelining towards the front. “Open your books! Tommy, shush!” You try your best to hide beneath your open textbook that’s propped up, but the moment she looks in your direction, she’s already saying, “Y/N, no hats inside.”

You straighten. “Um, my mom—”

“Rules are rules. Take it off,” she commands without leaving room to argue or explain. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself unless you want detention.”

So you do.

You slip the cap off your head with tears stinging your eyes.

Mrs. An turns to the whiteboard, beginning to write the title for today’s lesson, but a loud gasp from the classmate sitting behind you captures her attention again. She swivels on her feet and her eyes land straight on your head. Everyone’s eyes do. On your stark, fiery red hair.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

The next thing you know, you’re being dragged by your teacher into the principal's office. From the hall, you can still hear the entire classroom giggling, whispering about you and making a complete ruckus much to Mrs. An’s dismay.

“This is unbelievable!” she howls, hands lifted to the sky. “How could a fifth grader have hair like this?! It’s entirely inappropriate! It’s a complete distraction to the classroom!”

The principal, Mr. Park, hums. His hands are clasped on top of his desk and he calmly asks, “Did your parents dye your hair yesterday, Y/N?”

You slump and mutter, “No.”

He frowns. “Then who did?”

“No one…”

Mrs. An spits, “Then you did it yourself?!”

“No!” Your voice pitches in an attempt to defend yourself and your teeth sink into the bottom of your lip, trying to hold back your tears. You don’t want to get into trouble. “I woke up like this!”

But Mrs. An doesn’t believe you. Her eyes narrow and she scoffs. “How dare you lie to me and the principle?! If you didn’t do it, then who did? It’s against the rules to have anything other than your natural hair colour!”

Mr. Park sighs lightly. “We’ll just have to contact your mom and speak to her, Y/N.”

Immediately, your eyes widen and you bolt to a stand. “No, please!” you cry out. “Don’t! I’m sorry! I’ll dye it back! I won’t do it ever again!”

But the man shakes his head. “It’s too late for that.”

Your fist crumples and you deflate.

Your mom comes in half an hour later, dressed in stained jeans, old boots, and the only clean flannel she has. She’s not happy. You can tell by the look on her face. Even if she smiles and nods her head at the principal, you can see the tick in her eye and the muscle in her cheek twitching.

The moment she looks at you, her eyes become rounded at your crimson hair.

“I had no idea this happened. I’m so sorry for her behaviour. She must’ve gotten her hands onto my dye kits somehow.” She sighs and turns to you. “It won’t happen again. Right, Y/N?”

You nod. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Park smiles softly. “Not at all. It’s not that big of a deal. Some...teachers around here just adhere more strongly to the rules, so we want to make sure it’s consistent for everyone. It’s a bit of a distraction to her peers, but as long as Y/N comes in tomorrow with more...appropriate hair, it won’t be a problem.”

Afterwards, you’re sent home early.

Your mom is silent on the walk home. You trail after her, dreading what will happen when you get back.

The neighbours’ dog barks against the chain link fence, growling and baring their teeth. You flinch, getting closer to the gutter to avoid them. You’re safe when you get to your yard a few steps away and onto the worn, wooden porch that nearly breaks with your mom’s stomps. She kicks a few cigarette buds to the side and opens the squeaky screen door. You swallow hard and follow after her.

The living room is messy with clothes and old pizza boxes on the floor, and the TV is still on in the corner.

“Mom….mom….I didn’t do it.”

You drop your backpack, watching her stride towards the kitchen. She opens a drawer as you plead to her, and your voice becomes louder as the silver reflection of sharp scissors catches your eye. “No! Please! I swear I’m not lying!”

It’s useless.

She’s larger, taller, bigger and stronger than you are.

She comes over and grabs your long hair, yanking it from your head. You cry as she starts to cut. Jagged lines, quick snips, sawing off the strands. A sob breaks through your chest and trying to get away only makes her grip on your hair tighten and she pulls it to get you back.

Mom grits her teeth. “How dare you go behind my back and cause my trouble, you bitch. You stole my dye, didn’t you?! You thief!”

You scream and cry. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”

She never once notices how your hair returns to its natural colour as it sheds to your feet. That the moment it’s snipped from your head, the blazing red has faded away and lost the colour.

When it’s over, the scissors are tossed on the floor.

You’re left slumped on the ground, in a pool of your own hair. There are bald spots on your scalp while the other side is longer, uneven. What’s left of your head bleeds bright yellow, the colour of sunshine.

The next day, the shade mellows out, almost into a dirty blonde. You hope it’s good enough.

Your mom’s asleep on the sofa, snoring away with the TV still playing in the background. So you make it past her and trudge to school.

Kids are playing on the playground when you get there and you grip your backpack straps as you look on. But you don’t join them. Your feet turn and you duck out of sight, slipping into the school through the side doors. You’re lucky the janitor hasn’t locked them.

You’re not supposed to be inside the building yet, but you hope no one notices. Unluckily, someone turns the corner down the hall. But you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s just Mrs. Jung.

She’s always been nice.

“Good morning.”

She’s busy tapping on her phone, yet in a chirpy voice, she still exclaims, “Good morning! How are you—”

Mrs. Jung finally looks up and she suddenly stops.

You don’t know why her face looks like that. Like she’s seen a ghost. Is your hair really that bad? You tried to fix it and you thought it turned out okay.

Mrs. Jung gets closer and then lowers to a kneel in front of you, matching your height. Her shaking hand lifts and she touches the side of your head. You feel her fingertips against your scalp that still stings. You hiss and when you look at her, you see tears in her eyes. You wonder why.

“Who did this?” Her voice is quiet, gentle.

“Um….I was playing with scissors.”

Mrs. Jung looks at you again and says, “You’re allowed to tell me, Y/N.”

You stay quiet, not sure what to tell her, not sure you want to get into any more trouble. If you do and get sent to the principal's office again, who knows what your mom would do then.

But as you’re thinking about it, Mrs. Jung adds on, “No one will get into trouble, I promise.”

She looks into your eyes.

Your head droops, downcast vision looking at the floor. A quiet mumble escapes— “My mom.”

You’re not sure what happens after that. You’re sure your mom would be enraged if she knew you were talking about her and if you got her into trouble, that would be the worst. But for some reason, you don’t feel scared. Not when Mrs. Jung takes your hand and brings you to her science classroom.

You sit behind her desk that’s hidden away from the rest of the class by bookshelves and she gives you an apple juice box. You slurp it up — you haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch.

When you peek out, you see Mrs. Jung talking to another teacher in the hall. Soon after, the principle comes to visit you. He has the same expression as Mrs. Jung did and asks you if your mom’s done something like this before.

That day, your grandma picks you up from school. It’s a pleasant surprise. You’ve always liked your grandma but your mom never let her visit much. She hugs you tight.

The colour of your hair is a warm shade of gray.

...

Mrs. Jung takes you on a one-on-one special field trip on Sunday. She picks you up from Grandma’s house after you’ve had your favourite for breakfast: sunny-side up eggs. She drives you to the clinic and the female doctor hits your knee, making it bounce. The doctor also measures how tall you are, shines a light in your eye and asks if green is your favourite colour.

You see in the wall mirror that your head’s turned into a teal shade. You tell her no.

Half an hour later, you’re put in a machine that flashes lots of colours. They reassure you but you’re not scared. The vivid hues and mosaic of shades that blur past your eyes are pretty.

When it’s done, the doctor holds a clipboard while sitting next to the computer. Your legs swing from the edge of the examination table as you’re situated comfortable on the plush seat.

“It’s as I initially suspected, the hair is her soulmate gift. It changes colour based on her soulmate’s emotions.”

Mrs. Jung frowns. “I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

“Yes, well, it’s much more rare. Only point zero six experience a hair quirk.” The doctor looks from Mrs. Jung to you then back at her again. “Typically, as you know, soulmate gifts come in the form of names tattooed into skin or even countdowns of when the person would meet their soulmate, but soulmate gifts can take all kinds of different shapes and forms. Luckily, this shouldn’t affect her too much aside from, obviously, her hair changing color. Kids usually receive their gift around puberty, but looks like she’s an early bloomer.”

The doctor briefly smiles at you and then rolls on her chair towards her desk. “She’s also malnourished, but I believe with the proper nutrition, she’ll be able to recover. We should book another appointment in a few months to keep an eye on that and the hair.”

When the trip to the clinic is over, Mrs. Jung brings you to the mall.

You look around with wide eyes at all the clothes in the windows, but she eventually stops in front of a particular store and kneels in front of you. Her eyes lock into yours and she takes your hand.

“Y/N, you understand what the doctor told you, right?”

“Yeah. My hair’s my soulmate gift.” You had guessed it was that anyway.

Mrs. Jung nods with a smile. “Yes, you’ve always been a smart girl.”

She strokes your head affectionately and says, “I know you might not feel it now, but it really is a gift. Your soulmate is the one meant for you, your other half. They’re the one who can make you even happier. It’s both a blessing and a privilege to have. But it’s also okay if you hate it. You don’t have to like your soulmate gift,” she reassures. “If one day, you’re more comfortable with your hair, then that would be good. But it’s also okay if you’re not. It’s up to you.”

You nod after a moment.

Mrs. Jung smiles. “We’re gonna go into that wig shop, okay? You can pick two that you like and I’ll help you get it.”

Picking out wigs is more fun than you expect. The people there are happy to help and you end up going home with one black, long hair wig and another brown bobbed one that makes you look like Rapunzel after she cut her hair.

...

You only see your mom three times after that.

Once, she comes to your grandma’s house. Your grandma doesn’t let her see you, but you watch them yell at each other on the porch from the upstairs window. The next time is a year later in court. Your mom cries out for you and you tell her you’re sorry. Her hug is so tight, you can barely breathe.

The last is a visit on your own accord years later.

The small house you spent your childhood in is falling apart, windows broken, trash in the yard. You find her sitting on the armchair with a hazy expression, TV playing in the corner. She’s in the same exact position as if you never left. You put a blanket over her, but she stirs awake and sees you. She asks to borrow a hundred dollars.

Your mom winds up throwing a dirty plate your way when you give her twenty. It’s all you have on you.

You don’t realize the significance of what Mrs. Jung’s done for you until years later after you’ve long graduated elementary. So you visit her during High School with a thank you card and a bouquet of flowers. She’s gotten old by then, but she still remembers. She cries and hugs you tight. It feels comforting. And her hand brushes against the strands of your baby blue locks.

Grandma helps you grow out your hair again and is one of the people who help you become comfortable in it. By university, you’ve discarded your wigs in favour of your real hair that’s gotten luscious and shiny. Your friends think it's the coolest thing they’ve ever seen and some people approach you to tell you they love it and ask where you got it done.

You tell them it’s your soulmate gift.

Throughout the years, you pick at the ends of your hair and keep track of its changes in your diary. It becomes a habit to play with your hair, to memorize the shade it morphs to. You find that during the winter seasons, your hair becomes white often. One day, it turns white twenty six times.

On Valentine’s Day one year, your hair stays solid pink the whole day. And on another, it’s black for an entire week in April.

You start to hypothesize on the data you collect, noting the frequency of the hair colour changes, of each shade. You suspect hues of yellow signify happiness, reds are anger, blues are sadness, white is when your soulmate is cold. You’re not so sure about the others—

“Y/N.”

Seokjin is leaning on your cubicle as you shut your journal, having recorded your hair turning into a shade of lilac.

“Boss man wants to see you.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble up, pushing your small office chair back. “What for?”

The man shrugs. “Beats me. I wouldn’t worry about it though. It’s not like he’s going to fire you………..right?”

Seokjin grins, but his joke only spurs more nerves on you.

You get to the door, smooth out your pencil skirt and with a deep breath, you knock.

“Come in.”

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Min?”

You step inside his office, finding him looking into a small table mirror at his desk. He’s peering at his left eye and bats his lash several times. But then he sets the mirror down and looks at you.

“Yes, please take a seat.”

You clear your throat and sit in the chair across from him. The mirror is propped up in your direction, and you notice how your hair turns into a shade of monotone gray. It starts at the roots, bleeding downwards until all the strands have altered completely.

You pipe up, “If this is about the Jeon files, sir, I already redid them.”

“No, that’s not it.” He rubs his left eye that’s watering and then blinks. “Actually, I wanted to have a conversation about this for a while. Joy was supposed to talk to you about this, but she’s busy at the moment.”

Joy from HR.

You’re immediately on alert. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Min says, “It’s about your hair.”

Oh.

He rubs his eye and then clasps his hands together on top of his desk. “Recently, we received a customer complaint that your hair was unprofessional.”

“It’s my soulmate gift.”

“Yes. I know. You mentioned it during your interview. But it still could be considered a distraction in the workplace.”

The word ‘distraction’ has a muscle by your brow jumping. It makes you practically bristle as déjà vu washes over you. But you aren’t ten anymore. You don’t have to be afraid.

You straighten. “With all due respect, I don’t think it’s a requirement for me to have to change my hair. This is out of my control….sir.”

Suddenly, your hair turns a faint hue of red.

Mr. Min’s brow raises as if he didn’t expect you to be so difficult. “It’s part of the rules to have business appropriate attire in the office.”

“Attire yes, but there is nothing referring to hair,” you quietly assert.

His jaw shifts and he leans back into his seat. “Well, we’ll have to confirm if that’s true with HR—”

“I already did,” you interrupt him with a meek smile and as an afterthought, you add, “sir.”

Your hair turns a stronger shade of red. From pastel to a raspberry. Your pupils flicker to the mirror on his desk and your brows furrow as you notice it.

Mr. Min breaks you out of your trance and you redirect your attention to him again. “Is it impossible to make it less of a distraction?” he asks while rubbing his eye that’s tearing up again.

“If it becomes a requirement for me to wear wigs to work every day and not an expectation for others, sir, then the company should pay for it, put it on for me each morning and help me maintain it.” Your hair turns a stronger shade of red — crimson — as Mr. Min rubs his eye more incessantly. You add, “With all due respect, I don’t consider my hair a distraction at all. It is out of my control and it isn’t my fault if others are distracted. It has to do with their attention span.”

He stands. “That’s enough.”

At the same time, from his watered eye, you see something fall out.

You point. “Umm, sir…”

“Shit,” he mutters underneath his breath and looks to the carpet. You stand there for a delayed second before deciding to help him. You round his desk and descend to the ground where he is. All he says is, “It’s a contact lens.”

It’s a surprise to you considering you didn’t know he wore them.

But you quickly spot the transparent half-sphere. “Oh, it’s over there. By your foot.”

Mr. Min frowns. “Where?”

He looks up to see where you’re pointing. Your faces are inches away and instantly your eyes widen. A quiet gasp leaves your lungs. Not because of your close proximity but because Mr. Min’s iris is a fading red. And as confusion takes you, it morphs into a shade of gray.

Blooming outwards from his pupil, colour swirling into place.

“Your eye…” you murmur.

He mumbles, “It’s a soulmate gift.”

Yoongi grabs the brown colour contact lens, cursing at how it’s gotten dirty. But before he can get up, your hands latch onto his wrist, fingers digging into his skin and you tell him, “Wait.”

“What?”

There’s an unquenchable thirst to test the hypothesis that’s dawned upon you.

So when your hair starts to turn into gray as well, you surge forward on sheer intuition. And you kiss your boss, Min Yoongi. Your lips press against his, enough to register how soft and velvet his mouth is, long enough to feel his vanilla chapstick transfer onto your lips. But it’s a chaste peck. Shy and hesitant. And you pull away just as quickly.

Yoongi falls back on his butt with eyes nearly falling out of their sockets.

Immediately, you look over to the mirror on his desk. Your hair is turning from gray to red with faint streaks of cotton candy pink.

You gaze back at Yoongi to find his iris is peony pink.

“D-Did you just kiss me?!”

“Umm, sir, with all due respect, I believe you’re my soulmate.”

The words to dawn upon him. For the first time, your strands of hair morphs into a soft, pastel pink and his irises match the same shade.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts drabble #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic #yoongi reader insert #yoongi fluff #maso-cxhi #HOPEFULLY this is sufficient #it was definitely hard to balance out some extreme angst while also delivering some fluff lol

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mourntheantagonist · 4 years ago

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#HarringroveApril Day 7: Daisychain

***

“Mr. Harrington? Who’s your favorite student?”

The question came about at least once every year without fail, and he’d always answer in the same, textbook way.

“I don’t have favorites. I love all my kids equally.”

And, deservedly so, the whole class would grunt and moan because they knew just as well as he did that it was a load of bullshit. Steve loved every one of his kids, that part wasn’t a lie, but… he also definitely had his favorites.

For the graduating class of ‘90 when he was only a teaching assistant his name was Daniel. He was the youngest in his class because he started early, and he was incredibly bright. He could count higher, he could read quicker, and his mind just worked in ways that no adult could possibly understand. But it wasn’t the textbook intelligence that made Steve fall for this kid. It was his emotional intelligence. He was funny and he was kind and five year olds were cruel, but he never let that get to him. He had an outlook on life that Steve was jealous of, so when the other kids would turn him down for a game of checkers, Steve would happily join him, because Steve saw it as his job to keep that kid kind.

For the class of ‘91 it was Christopher. He was nothing like Daniel. He was held back and was repeating kindergarten, and that was evident in the way he walked through life. He was quiet and would voluntarily remove himself from the rest of the class. He’d sit by himself and read a book and get frustrated when he didn’t understand one of the words, he would swing by himself and he always tried to sneak off with the first graders when it was time to line up. And Steve perfectly resonated with that feeling of watching all of your friends move on without you. He was left in the dust too. When all his classmates moved on to college or hightailed it out of Hawkins, Steve was left there by himself, working at Family Video with his only friend in the grade below him, and it took her leaving him as well for Steve to finally get his shit together, haul his ass west of the Mississippi, and enroll in a community college and work towards his teaching degree.

And he did it, against all odds and obstacles in his way, he did it. It took extra work and the support of his best friend who he followed, and he did it. He saw himself in Christopher, and he wasn’t going to make that kid wait as long as he did to realize that setbacks don’t define his future.

Steve usually took a liking to the quiet kids, and that only changed in ‘93 with the girl named Amy and the familiar last name. She was loud, vibrant, and everyone loved her. Her smile was contagious and she could be the sweetest little girl at times, but she also wore her heart on her sleeve. She cried quite a bit, just the littlest thing could set her off. A boy accidentally knocking over her blocks, not knowing how to spell a certain word, accidentally coloring outside the lines. She didn’t throw tantrums like he saw in the other kids. She would just bow her head and cry and it would break Steve’s heart every time.

But other than those few moments, she was bright and charismatic and with the last name, the blonde curly hair, and the big personality, Steve really should have put it all together much sooner than he did.

He didn’t put it all together until he saw Billy Hargrove in the soup aisle at the local grocery store wearing a chain of little daisies on his head like a crown, and he knew exactly where it was from.

It was from the little girl named Amy Hargrove who frolicked in the field instead of playing on the playground, collecting flowers that she meticulously made into bracelets and crowns and anything else she put her mind to. She gave them to friends, she even gave one to Steve, and of course she would give one to her dad too.

He looked so different, and yet exactly the same. He still had the damn mullet, just dragging the eighties with him as far as he could, he was a little more cleaned up but still had a similar style to what it was in highschool. Still with the same denim jacket, denim jeans, Canadian tuxedo type deal. In a side by side picture situation you wouldn’t really be able to tell the difference. It wasn’t his dress or his hair or anything physical about him that made him look so different, it was the way that he carried himself. It was the relaxation and the eyes that didn’t droop and the smile lines that didn’t used to be there that made him almost entirely unrecognizable from the Billy Hargrove who pushed freshman against lockers and drove his car too loud and too fast and had cigarettes for three meals a day. Not the kid who ran off to California as soon as the hospital released him with only his Camaro and a small suitcase and a large sum of money the government used to keep his mouth shut, leaving just a note for Max on the fridge that didn’t get any more specific than that about where he was going, not even leaving a phone number for her to contact him with. He also didn’t look like the kid they all pictured in their heads after basically the whole town found out about exactly what Neil Hargrove did to his son behind closed doors.

Steve wanted to go up to him in the store, but he stopped himself. Because Billy left. Without a trace or a word, and who was Steve to think that Billy having to be reminded of something he voluntarily abandoned without a second thought would have any sort of positive outcome?

So he turned down the aisle and kept his distance from the man in the flower crown because he was scared. He wasn’t scared that Billy would see him and turn back to his old ways and hurt him again, he was scared that he’d turn back to his old ways and hurt himself again.

Because he’d been hurt enough already.

Steve successfully avoided Billy until parent teacher conferences had rolled around, and instead of seeing Amy’s mom on the list of names he’d be seeing that day, it was Billy’s.

Steve would be lying if he didn’t think about calling in sick and sending his TA in his place. But he still had to be her teacher for another six months, he just had to get the interaction over with.

Many of the parents that came before Billy had to have known he was on edge about something considering he excessively tapped the table with the eraser of his pencil and stuttered his way through conversations. His organized folders and notes of talking points had been entirely thrown out the window and he was an absolute nervous wreck. And he could only anticipate it being ten times worse when the cause of said anxiety walked through his door with the long hair and the leather jacket. It was only with the help of the little girl in the sunflower dress and daisies in her hair skipping from the entrance to the chair in front of him that calmed his nerves just a bit.

But Billy had just stayed at the door, no movement, and any hope that Steve had that perhaps his new haircut and the glasses on his face would be enough to keep Billy from noticing the obvious vanished when Billy snapped his fingers like the lightbulb in his head finally flickered on.

“I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

Steve just held out his hand to shake like he did with any other parent, unsure how to gage the situation because Billy’s words could go either way and his facial expressions didn’t give him anything to go off of. It would be weird to introduce himself, he didn’t know what to say.

“Hi, I’m Amy’s teacher. Should we start?”

Billy looked a little confused, but he sat down in the little kindergartener chairs anyway. This meeting was almost more organized than the ones prior, likely because he was trying to go as quickly as possible and get it over with. Steve showed Billy some of her artwork and commented on how her reading comprehension was great but she could work on her spelling a little more. He didn’t want to bring it up, but he brought up the crying and it hurt to see how him bringing it up set her off again. The same bowing of the head and quiet sniffles into her sleeve.

But Steve thinks he just fell in love a little watching Billy comfort her. With one hand rubbing circles into her back and the other holding her small hand. Steve feels like shit watching her cry because of him and is also semi-fearful for his life because he already knows he can’t take Billy in a fight.

“Baby, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with crying. It’s okay.”

“You’re dad’s right Amy. I think it’s very healthy. Crying is good for you.”

She looks up at Steve with those big blue eyes and tear stained cheeks when he says that.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah! I’d say it even makes you more mature. Even some adults I know don’t let themselves cry and it’s not good.”

“My daddy cries a lot too.”

Steve looks at Billy who’s eyes widen when she says it, then tries to laugh it off like she didn’t just say that.

“Hey Amy, you wanna go and play while your daddy and I talk for a minute?”

She just nods her head and wipes away her remaining tears and quickly hauls the bucket of Lincoln Logs off the shelf.

“So. It’s been a while. Hasn’t it?” Steve starts.

“Yeah it has. So, you’re a teacher now.”

“And you’re a father. That’s crazy.” Steve was fiddling with his hands, trying to make the conversation less awkward. “She’s wonderful by the way.”

“Yeah. She doesn’t get it from me.”

Steve just shakes his head. “No. I don’t think that’s true. She has your charisma, and it appears you found a better way of channeling your emotions since last we saw each other. She’s a lot like you.”

“Thanks.” Billy blushed. He actually blushed. “I don’t know if this is allowed considering you’re her teacher, but would you want to catch up sometime? Maybe dinner or something?”

There it was. That was the olive branch. And Steve would be an absolute fool not to take it.

“I’d love to.”

Before they could come up with a time or a place, Amy was running over to the table with loudly stomping feet.

“I almost forgot! Daddy! show Mr. Harrington what I brought him!”

Billy reached into his pocket upon her demand and pulled out a little bracelet made out of little daisies and honeysuckle and handed it over to Steve.

“Thank you Amy! It’s lovely.”

“Daddy show him yours!”

Steve looked to Billy’s wrist where he slowly lifted his sleeve to reveal an almost exact replica to the bracelet in his hand.

“Looks like we’re matching.”

#harringrove #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #this one will probably get a part 2 but who knows #it got too long and I ran out of time !!

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alltimesos · 4 years ago

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Three Thousand- Ashton Irwin

Another fic I found in my drafts ♡ This week is spring break for me so I am hoping to sit down work on a few requests! 🍑

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cursing, brief mentions of unprotected sex, tooth-rotting fluff

“Ashton! Will you come in here for a minute?” you called from the doorway of one of your son’s bedrooms. A few moments later your husband appeared into the room and walked over to you with confusion all over his face.

“What’s going on babes?” he questions, kissing your forehead.

“Will you please tell your firstborn son that fifth grade isn’t scary and he’ll make plenty of friends?” Ashton grins, kneeling in front of the bed to talk to Ethan. You sigh as you walk out of the bedroom, leaning against the wall.

You and Ashton have five kids together. Your eldest son, Ethan is 10, your second-born son, Jaxon is 7, your third-born son, Oliver is 6 and your twin daughters Amelia and Charlotte, are 4. “Mummy! Jaxon stole my toy!” You hear Oliver shout from the room over. You rub your temples before stepping into the boy’s room, to take care of the situation.

+++

The following morning was chaos, to say the least. It was the first day of school and nothing was going right. Your alarm never sounded, meaning you woke up twenty minutes late. You scramble to get out of bed to get dressed and at least attempt to fix your hair.

You jog down the stairs to smell bacon cooking. You furrow your eyebrows as you take the last step, appearing into the kitchen. A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you see Ashton standing at the stove, cooking bacon and waffles, not wearing a shirt but your pink apron wrapped around him. You giggle, walking towards Ashton to steal your daily morning kiss. “I didn’t even notice you were missing from the bed,” you tell him against his lips.

“Well, thanks a lot babe,” he replies sarcastically. You giggle once more, wrapping your arms around his neck. He presses his lips against yours slightly pressing you up against the counter.

“Ew!” you hear your small children yell. You push Ashton off of you, turning towards the twins standing in the doorway. “Good morning babies!” you pick both of them up, placing them on each hip. Both of them inherited Ashton’s sandy curls and hazel eyes, which you admired deeply.

“Are you guys excited for your first day of school?!” you ask carrying them upstairs. Charlotte, the older twin, only by a few minutes, nods against your shoulder. “X’cited mummy, I have butterflies in my tummy.” Once you reach the bedroom you place the girls down on their beds. “What about you Miss Amelia?” She was the shyer one of the two, a girl of a few words.

“Nervous, mummy.”

You open the closet door to pick out their outfits for the day. “No need to be nervous, darlings. School is lots of fun and you will make new friends!”

You help both of your daughters get dressed before styling their curly hair. You kiss their cheeks before patting their bum lightly. “Go downstairs, daddy made you breakfast.”

You walk down the hall, knocking on Ethan’s door. A few moments later he opens the door and steps out. “Did you make your bed?” “

Yes, mum,” he groans. You pull him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “No matter how old you get you will always be my baby. Fifth grade will be awesome!” Much to your surprise, Ethan squeezes you tightly. “I love you, mum.” He lets go of you, grabbing his backpack and going downstairs.

“Hey there rockstar!” you hear Ashton yell at your son. Since Jaxon and Oliver were close in age you allowed them to share a room. The door was wide open already so you walked in, ignoring all of the toys scattered around the room. “Mummy!” Oliver yells running over to you. “Hi, sweetie! Are you almost ready?” Oliver nods, grabbing his backpack. “Daddy made you breakfast!” you barely finished your sentence because Oliver was already running downstairs.

“Is my soon-to-be second grader ready?” Jaxon doesn’t say anything, just pushes past you and walks down the stairs. You stand there confused but don’t say anything.

+++

“All right does everyone have their backpacks and lunches?” Ashton asks before opening the front door. All your kids’ nod, Oliver saying “yep!”

“Okay let me get a picture!” Ashton lines all the kids up by height and snaps a few photos as a group and then individually. “My babies are all grown up.” You laugh, taking Ashton’s hand in yours.

“Okay, let’s go before daddy starts crying.”

The crew gathers in the car with only a slight fuss, the boys arguing who’s going to sit where. You buckle the twins up in their car seats before sliding into the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Let’s rock and roll,” Ashton says pulling out of the driveway. “Gosh, I swear you become cornier by the day,” you joke with him.

The drive to the first stop wasn’t too long. Ethan slipped out of the car after giving you both a kiss on the cheek muttering out a “see you later”. You and Ash call out a “bye have a good day!”

The next two boys get dropped off as well without too much of a hassle. Ashton pulls into a parking space at the last elementary school. The two of you help the girls out of the car, Charlotte grabbing your hand and Amelia grabbing Ashton’s.

The four of you walk into the school, searching for the right classroom. Once you find it, you walk the girls into the semi-quiet room. The teacher walks her way up to the girls, kneeling down. “You must be the Irwin twins! Charlotte and Amelia right?” Charlotte starts babbling her head off while Amelia tucks herself into her daddy’s side.

“I’m Mrs.Penner, I’m very excited to have you guys in class!” Charlotte hugs you and Ashton before grabbing the teacher’s hand. Ashton bends down and picks up his littlest one. “Hey, there pretty girl. Pre-K is gonna be awesome! It’s only for a few hours okay? Mummy and daddy will be here at 12:30 to pick you and Charlotte up!” Amelia nods, snuggling into her dad.

Ashton puts her down after kissing her forehead. She turns to you, hugging your legs mostly. “Bye mummy.” She tells you, turning around to join her sister. “Bye baby.” You whisper back. Ashton wraps his arm around your waist, walking towards the car. Once inside, he high-fives you then pulls you in for a kiss. “We did it, Mrs.Irwin! And we only let out a few tears.”

“Way to go daddy-o!”

When you guys get home you immediately plop down onto the bed with your husband. Ashton sprawls out onto his stomach, one arm around your body. “Hey babe?” he asks. “What’s up?” You answer him, closing your eyes.

“Can we have another kid?”

You lay there for a moment before propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Ashton, we already have five. I don’t think we need any more,” trying to keep your voice calm. He sits up himself as well to look at you.

“But I really want another one. I think it would be great to have a huge family!”

“I don’t know Ash… it just doesn’t seem like a good time to have one.” He nods, crawling on top of you. “But baby, in nine months from now it will be almost June. The kids won’t be in school. It just seems like the perfect time to have one…” You nudge Ashton over so you’re the one on top of him.

“We’ll discuss it later babe. But right now we have three hours to kill before we go pick up the twins.” your voice dropping an octave, sliding your hands up his shirt to feel his abs. Ashton sits up to slide his shirt off and then taking yours off after. His hands rub and down your sides, causing goosebumps to form. “You’re so beautiful babe,” he says honestly. Before having kids you weren’t small and now five kids later, you’re definitely not small. You hadn’t lost all of the baby weight yet from the last pregnancy, due to being a stay-at-home mom.

“Thank you, Ash,” you whisper. He firmly grabs your pudgy waist and flips you onto the bed. He unhooks your bra, setting it aside as well as your panties. He smirks down at you as he tugs his underwear and shorts off. His hand comes to rub circles on your clit, creating a slow movement.

While he thumbs at your sensitive nub he places his head into your neck to suck softly on the exposed flesh. “A-ash,” you moan out. “Feel good darling?” he mumbles against you. “Yes, always so good.” He places a final kiss below your ear before pulling off. You are now dripping wet from him playing with your clit. “Relax baby girl.”

“Fuck..” you whined already needing more of him. Your husband has the power to string you apart like a tangled mess of Christmas lights. You feel Ashton thrust slowly into you, ecstasy building up in your stomach. “What a pretty girl you are,” he compliments you, quickening his pace. “Such a good girl taking me like this.” He leans down to suck on your nipples, the wetness of his tongue sliding around on your skin.

You groan, knowing you’re going to cum any moment now. It had been a while since you and Ash had some intimate time. Any time you were without kids the two of you always caught up with each other or took a nap. It’s always quick handjobs or sloppy blowjobs before the kids wake up.

You still yourself as Ashton slows his pace, dragging out the moment and all you can think about is how sweet his release will be. “Ashton please,” you beg but words are broken. “Please what?” he prompts. “Please go f-faster” you moan and your husband finally picks up his pace. With one hard thrust that has your vision dancing, Ashton is releasing a hot load inside of you, making you cum as well. He pulls out of you, caressing your cheeks, words of praise escaping his lips. He helps you get dressed and he slips his clothes on too. You are lying on your back with Ashton on his side next to you. “My pretty girl,” Ashton whispers and you beam back at him. “I love you.” He kisses your cheek, sliding underneath the covers, catching up on some sleep before you two go pick up the twins.

+++

The first month of school goes by smoothly. It is now a Saturday morning and you have family pictures planned. You usually do it during the fall but decided to do it this year with the weather being warm. Everyone is dressed in matching colors, you and the twins are wearing sundresses, the boys and Ashton wearing colored short-sleeved button-ups and jeans. As you’re putting on your last earring, Ashton sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"My beautiful wife. Still looking good even at thirty.”

You and Ashton had started your family young, with Ethan going to be eleven soon. You turn around and pecked his lips, grabbing your shoes on the way out of the bedroom. “Boys, let’s turn on the video games please.”

“But mummy-” Jaxon starts.

“Boys. The video games will be here when we get back, please listen to your mummy,” Ashton warns them lightly. The boys nod and turn the television and game console off, standing by the front door. Amelia grabs your hand, wanting to be picked up. “You’re so pwetty, mummy.” You smile and kiss her cheek. “You’re so pretty too, miss Amelia.” Ashton locks the front door behind everyone and helps the girls into their car seats. The car ride to the fairgrounds was thankfully short, Oliver becoming somewhat fussy.

“I think it’s really cool we’re doing carnival-themed pictures!” Ashton tells you after getting everyone out of the car.

“Yes! I’m very excited. It was time for a change.”

After meeting up with the photographer, an old friend of yours, she snaps a few photos of the boys and the girls. She takes some of just you and Ashton and then Ashton with the boys. After she snaps a few of you and the twins, she lines you up in front of the Ferris wheel for a family photo.

With everyone in position, she says “ 1, 2, 3, Y/N’s pregnant with twins!” the camera clicks.

Everyone’s heads whip in your direction. “Did she just say you’re pregnant with twins?” Ashton asks you, eyebrows furrowed. You nod excitedly as he picks you up to twirl you around. You can hear the photographer taking pictures of the precious moment. “How long have you known?!” his voice high and squealy.

You giggle as Ashton puts you down, giving you another kiss. “Just a few days. I called Lindy, our photographer, and told her and she came up with this idea!”

Charlotte comes up to you, tugging the end of your dress. “Mummy? What’s going on?”

Ashton smiles brightly and kneels down to meet her at eye level. “You’re going to have either little sisters or brothers, or one of each! Mummy has babies in her tummy!”

Amelia and Charlotte pat at your stomach while the boys surround you with a hug. After taking more photos, you and Ashton treat the kids to ice cream.

They all sit in the booth next to yours and Ashton’s, talking about names for their future siblings. Ashton smiles and leans over to you, wiping the chocolate ice cream off your chin.

“I have some pretty powerful sperm,” he whispers in your ear and plants a kiss on the side of your face.

Your hand meets the bottom of his ice cream cone, the cold cream hitting him in the face. Ethan looks over and says, “look at daddy!” The rest of the table laughs, smearing their own ice cream on their face. You chuckle, watching this perfect family of yours, knowing this is true happiness.

Taglist:

@hoodhoran

@suchalonelysunflower

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #ashton irwin imagine #calum hood #michael clifford #luke hemmings #masterlist #ashton irwin x you #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin x y/n #me

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lightandwinged · 4 years ago

Photo

Haven’t posted the bobbins in a hot minute!

The twins turn three tomorrow! I legitimately cannot believe that I’ve been doing the fulltime mom thing to twins for three whole ass years. And I have to brag a little bit about their birthday stuff because last year, Covid suddenly happening two days before their birthday derailed everything--we’d been planning to go to the aquarium in Boston and take them to a special ice cream place and just have a great time, but then plague.

And they had a good time, but I felt bad.

So maybe this year I went overboard JUST a bit, both (a) because we could afford it (Kyle’s new job is pretty sweet like that), and (b) because I wanted this year to make up for last year being meh. I know they’re too young to really remember but on the off chance that they do, I don’t want them to remember two miserable Covid birthdays. One is enough.

I made cupcakes, because they are tiny, and cupcakes are easier to individually theme than bigger cakes. Carrie loves unicorns, Isaac loves Mickey and Minnie, it was a fun thing to do.

But kiddos overall.

Sam is inching closer to SEVEN YEARS OLD WHAT, is on his third lost tooth (my favorite tooth when kids lose it because it’s the one that really makes him look like a little jack o lantern), and speaks mostly in Pokemon these days. I understand none of it, but he is OBSESSED and keeps coming up with creative ways to bring them into his day-to-day life (he’s beaten Sword about three times and is currently working his way through whatever the previous title was on the DS; his favorite vacillates day to day, but he tends to go for fire types). I’m still homeschooling him until the end of the year because everyone keeps changing their mind about when people are going back and doing what. And he’s kicking ass. Currently whizzing through very basic geometry (e.g., finding simple perimeter and area) as part of his third grade math curriculum and working on recognizing patterns in science.

We also suspect that he’s either autistic or has ADHD (per his in-home therapists as well), but wait times for official testing are L O N G. We’re having him evaluated through the school, though, so that if he doesn’t get a diagnosis before he heads back in the fall (because I love him, but I do not love teaching him), he’ll at least have an IEP already in place and be able to get any assistance he needs. And that will most likely take the form of someone breaking tasks into smaller steps, maybe giving him fidget opportunities while he’s learning (he absorbs a LOT when he’s playing with Legos), maybe taking tests separately so that he can have someone read the questions aloud to him so that he absorbs them (because he can read, but unless he also HEARS things, he absorbs nothing).

He’s a terrifyingly smart kid still, and I have no doubt that he’ll be on par with his fellow second graders next year academically. I just want him to not feel overwhelmed while working.

Isaac is slowly slowly slowly gaining spoken language. I’ve said before and stand by that I don’t care if he never speaks completely fluently, but I do want him to be able to communicate his wants and needs so that he doesn’t get frustrated so much. And he does get frustrated, but his meltdowns remain rare--they usually only happen if something he loved doing ends or if someone takes his toy or won’t give him their toy or just other typical toddler stuff (which inclines me to classify them more as tantrums than meltdowns, but eh). BUT he also communicates, not just by taking someone’s hand and putting it on something he wants, but by using words. He LOVES to talk about the cats (which are his favorite thing--cats of all types, including those in the musical) (but NOT THE MOVIE DEAR JESUS), and the other day, he very meticulously directed me to draw a picture of the three cats happily sleeping on his bed, based on his memory of seeing them happily sleeping on his bed at naptime.

He’s definitely got his drilled down special interests--cats, cars, Mickey Mouse, Daniel Tiger, and Celtic Woman (we call them his “ladies”). And he is just such an absolute sweetie. He still has the smile that basically convinces you that you would both kill and die for him (shown above), and the way he relaxes against me when he’s tired just makes me sigh and love him to absolute pieces. He’s 110% a momma’s boy, and although I hope he grows out of it when the time is right, it’s really sweet right now.

He easily qualified for special ed preschool, which I’ll talk about more in a second.

And then Miss Carrie, who basically read the rhyme about little girls being made of sugar and spice and all things nice and took it as gospel but ALSO realized that you can do all of those things while being a monster, beating up everyone who treats you wrong, and covering yourself in tattoos. I say of her that she’s too much, but in the best possible way: I want her to keep being too much forever, because it is absolutely delightful. She’s always giggling or twirling, singing or commanding her brothers in a game of pretend. She never just walks anywhere, she always prances or skips or dances or hops or jumps. She can be a screechy little spitfire one second and then brush away her angry tears and transform into a little cherub the next, and it’s hilarious. Everything ever must be pink and glittery (I promise, I did not try and force pink on her, she jumped to it on her own), must flounce out correctly when she twirls, must make her feel like a fairy tale princess.

She merrily adopts all the stereotypical “girly” things in life--Barbies, princesses, My Little Pony (yep, we’re back in that phase), unicorns, mermaids, “cute” things, etc. At the same time, she’s always game for a lightsaber fight, playing “bug” with Sammy (I don’t know what “bug” is as a game, but the kids have established rules for it and play it whenever they’re not too tired after dinner), and wrestling with her dad and brothers. It’s wonderful.

And SHE qualified for special ed preschool because her muscle tone is hilariously low (read: she flops).

The twins are starting preschool Monday because they are turning three and thus losing early intervention services. I worry somewhat about them being in school with Covid still raging (even though I’m 50% of the way to fully vaccinated--going back for Pfizer #2 on Saturday!), but it’s a huge relief that their therapies (speech, occupational, physical) are being coordinated by the school and not by me. I’m the most organized person in this house, and anyone who’s ever seen my house knows what a statement that is (it’s gotten worse since my sciatica has settled in, because bending over is just not a thing I can do without suffering), so having that burden lifted from my shoulders? Heavenly.

And I’m just overall proud as fuck of all three kids. They’re so resilient, and I know that the pandemic has been hard on them in a lot of ways, but they’re still kicking ass, still smiling and laughing and having fun, and that’s been a bright spot for the entire last year.

#parenting #sammy the small spawn #isaac doomface #little care bear #hashtag twinning #holy shit they're three #them going to school is kind of like emerging from a long hibernation

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espinosaurusrexex · 5 years ago

Text

Hater

In which Y/N tries to convince herself that she does not have any feelings for Jeff and miserably fails.

warnings: cursing, a really bad apology (like damn I’m sorry im bad at conversing and it shows lmao)

a/n: For the really nice @ilsolee, who requested something from my Drabble List. Thank you for requesting this. I loved this concept and even played with the thought of breaking it into a series (I ended up not doing that but if you want me to next time, to make it a little longer or even more detailed, just tell me).

As always, I’m open to feedback :)

4. Right now, you’re just being really annyoing.

6. How come you’re still so stubborn, Sugar?

21. Can I kiss you?

word count: 3.8k

She hated him. She hated his dumb smirk and his overly attractive body. She hated the way he talked to her and how he didn't seem to care about people when he interacted with them. His cringy beard triggered her and the muscles on his body intimidated her. There was nothing on this man that could attract her to Jeff Wittek.

Well, those were the points. And Y/N wasn't going to change her mind about this awfully handsome man. At least she didn't want to and found herself relaxing every time she dug a little deeper to find more reasons, why she could hate him. As if him being an ex convict wasn't enough reason to keep a distance, Y/N was intrigued by slipping into his past to be a step ahead for every comment he spat her way. That way she could tell herself that, no matter what he would say to her, she knew something about him that nobody else did. And that gave her the feeling of superiority she seeked a little too often these days.

“What do you think about that, Y/N”, Jeff questioned and raised his eyebrows at her, who had yet to answer his question. There it was again: that stupid smirk. God, she wanted to smack it out of his face every time she saw it. And not the gentle way. The way that would leave a red mark in the form of her hand for several hours. Though it was really hard for her to resist that urge right now, she settled for a snarky comment instead.

“I think that right now, you're just being really annoying.” A low hush went through the room and Y/N noticed Jeff’s face scrunching up in a faked, pained one. He continued to place his hand above his heart before relieving a loud cry.

“You're so mean! Oh god, I think I have to kill myself now.” The rest of their friends laughed, which made Y/N feel quite uncomfortable.

“Bohoo, you gonna call your mom now?” Y/N scooched deeper into the cushions as she noticed how childish her behavior had been the whole day.

“Honestly, doll. If you want to upset me, you have to come up with some better roasts. That shit was weak. I feel like I’m arguing with a fifth grader.” Y/N groaned. Another thing she hated about Jeff: him calling her ‘doll’ in that dumb Jersey accent of his.

Sending a growl over to Jeff, Y/N stood up and headed towards the kitchen. She rummaged through the cabinets until she found something to snack her anger away on and proceeded to snatch a water bottle from the fridge. She sat on the counter of David’s kitchen and stared at the white tiles a little longer until she felt a hand on her shoulder and a whiff of strawberry entered the room. Carly. Honestly, Y/N didn't want to talk right now. Drowning her anger in food and tv shows seemed far more appealing to her than engaging in a discussion about her well being or a certain other person she didn't want to think about right now. She knew she had embarrassed herself. Not only today, but all the other times she would start to bicker with Jeff about the most random things.

“Hey Y/N/N…” Carly pushed herself up on the counter next to her and took a cookie from her friend's hand. She knew that Y/N didn't want to talk, but she also couldn't help but wonder what fed the deep hatred her best friend had for Jeff. A man, who had actually been pretty nice and funny to Carly during the time they had known each other. Sure, he wasn't the nicest to Y/N, but that was mainly, because her friend never had anything nice to say towards him, either. Carly would have reacted the same way, if somebody would greet her with such an attitude from day one on. She couldn't bring herself to ask Y/N, though. Knowing deep down that she probably had a good reason to behave the way she did.

A nudge ripped Y/N out of her trance. “Jeff is actually pretty nice, you know?” The platine blonde murmured while glancing back to the living room in which most of their friends gathered at the moment. Jeff shared a short glance with her before turning his attention back to the discussion that was going on.

“Carly, I’m not magically going to love that guy just because you say he’s ‘pretty nice’.” Y/N chuckled in a mocking manner and turned her head towards her best friend. “I don't like him and that’s final. I find reasons to not like him every day and that is ok. I don't have to like everybody you're friends with. If you want to hang out with a former convict, then do it, but don't expect me to join you again.”

Carly sighed before hopping down from the counter to stand between Y/N’s legs. She looked into her eyes, trying to find a hint of sorrow in them, but nothing. Not even a little bit of dishonesty glimmered in her orbs. She let her head down, shaking it in the process.

“If you say so…” Carly went back to the common area and Y/N was left to sit alone again. She stared at the ceiling for a while and then at the walls. After a couple of minutes, that got pretty boring, so she just decided to leave. She didn’t need them to have fun. And she definitely didn't need to show them how bothered she was by her friends hanging out with people that didn't appreciate her.

It had been a week since her last encounter with Jeff and Y/N couldn't help but feel pretty good about avoiding any situations regarding him. She occupied herself with paperwork and her dog, Dax. Fully ignoring the fact that she felt a little lonely inside, she watched her friends’ Snapchat stories daily. The restaurant she was working at had not been that busy the last couple days, which lead to Y/N getting off early and left to spend even more time in her Apartment, alone, with Dax, of course.

Another week went by and to say the least, Y/N was bored. Her daily routines had consisted of eating, working, and sleeping. She had finished pretty much every series existent on Netflix and there was nothing else to do. She found herself sitting on her phone again. This time, almost envying the fun her friends had without her. But she couldn’t bring herself to text them. She needed to prove it to herself and them that she didn't care if they hung out with people she didn't want around. Mainly, she needed to convince herself, but that facade began to falter with every minute that went by.

A sudden knock on her door echoed through the room and Y/N got up quickly. Too excited that something was happening, she sprinted to the door and basically ripped it open. The handle rammed into the wall and left an evident hole, but Y/N didn’t care.

“I’m done with your shit ass attitude!” Carly stormed into the apartment with heavy steps and came to a stop at the dining table. The confusion was clearly written over Y/N’s features as she watched her best friend stand in front of her with crossed arms.

“What do you mean?”

Carly scoffed. An action she had perfected over the years she had known Y/N. “I will not stop hanging out with Jeff, just because you don't like him! Accept that for God’s sake!” Her chest was heaving and Y/N had not seen her friend this furious in a very long time.

The tension between them began to rise, but Y/N wouldn't break. “Well then you have a problem, because I will not ‘hang’ with the devil himsel-” But she was cut off by the blonde.

“Jeff. It’s Jeff! You know, you could actually say his name for once! He’s a human being just like everyone else. And it's not fair that you treat him like shit just because of his background. I didn't think that I was friends with a person that is so selfish and shallow that they would reject people based on the things that happened in the past. We all know what he did! And it's not like he is a killer or psychopath! Especially the people in our group of friends should be able to rely on each other and not be scared that there will be talking behind their back. Because you know what?! That’s exactly what happened with Trisha and now everyone hates her! Do you want that?! Then just say it because I need to know!”

Her words were like a wake up call. One that hit deep in the gut and spread through the body in hives of pain until it reached the brain and it could actually register what had just been said. Y/N trained her eyes on the floor. If Carly put it that way, it did sound like Y/N had grown into a horrible person. A person, she most certainly didn't want to be. Not in her or anyone else’s eyes. It pained her to see, how wrecked her friend got by the thought of Y/N being like the person Carly had described seconds before.

“Y/N! Fuck! Say something! … God damn it, I need by best friend back and I need to know if she’s still here.”

With that, Y/N couldn't hold it anymore. A loud sob escaped her lungs and the tears followed soon after.

“I’m so sorry, Carly.” , she sobbed as she tried to stop the tears from falling, “I’m so sorry, I’m a horrible person…”

Through blurry eyes Y/N could see her friend trying to prevent some tears from falling as well, but she kept quiet. Waiting for an explanation on her end.

“I don’t hate him. I don't hate him for his past or his humor I don't hate him at all. God why is this so hard?!” Y/N kept wiping away the salty wetness on her cheeks and proceeded to talk. “I just thought that… if I told myself that I didn't like him, I would believe myself, eventually. I don't care if he went to jail or prison or whatever. I don't care at all… I just wanted to protect myself and I guess, I went a little too far…”

Silence. It was crushing and if silence had a sound in this second, it would have been something that would make your ears explode. Carly knew, what her best friend meant when she said ‘she wanted to protect herself’. It had been a secret between the two of them, but Y/N didn't exactly have the best relationships in the past. In fact, Y/N and her ex-boyfriends all ended on bad terms. And it had taken at least three month and about five pounds of ice cream or chocolate to make her leave the house again, every time. Y/N didn't seem like it, because of her sassy attitude, but she got attached too quickly and fell way too hard. Carly should have suspected it, seeing that Jeff checked pretty much all of the boxes Y/N’s ex’s did, too. She felt regret rushing through her for throwing those words at her, but she was fairly desperate herself, being without her best friend for over two weeks. They had both been too stubborn to text each other and now they saw what it did to them. They were both devastated and exhausted. It didn't do anyone any good if those two were not together at least once a day.

“You have to tell him.” Carly spoke after ten minutes of remaining silent.

This made Y/N snap her head up again. “I can’t! Not after everything, I have said to him!” Her eyes were wide in shock and she stepped closer to the blonde girl leaning on her table. “Besides, we both know that the last weeks were just foreshadowing of what would happen if Jeff and I would… “ She didn't speak any further, noticing that she had actually said his name out loud for the first time.

“Well, you have to at least say something to him! Apologize. Because whatever is happening right now, is just childish.”

Carly was right. Y/N hated when her friend was right. And even though it was probably going to be more embarrassing than her fist time, she knew that she had to talk to Jeff.

Believing that nothing would change her mind about said man was probably a stupid thing to do. To say she was nervous to talk to somebody, she had spent the past year insulting, even more so. The whole time, she was so focused on his background and things magazines and haters wrote about him, she had never even considered to investigate further into his personality. Not that she had thought it was going to be any better than her assumptions, anyway. Though, she never had a friendly conversation with him, she had to admit that she had always been the one starting the snappy comments and he probably just followed along.

With that in mind, Y/N stood at a balck door with the number 703 printed on it in gold. How was she going to approach this? She didn't know, either. But she knew that she had to fix it somehow. Y/N wasn't a bad person after all and seeing that she had the opportunity to at least try and fix things, cleared her conscious a little.

She knocked on the door gently, secretly praying that noone was home and she could just push this event to another day, but her hopes were shattered after a few seconds. The door opened and behind it was the man himself. Shirtless, of course. He had a toothbrush in his right hand and was holding the door open with the other. The light from the window behind him made his body glow in a sunrise-orange tone and Y/N had to scold herself for comparing him to an image of Adonis right there. His questioning facial expression changed to a cocky one as soon as he registered who had been interrupting his morning routine on this day and he moved his body to the side to motion for her to come in. Y/N followed his demands, inspecting his home. Even though she had known him for several months now, she had never even seen his apartment complex before. And looking at the plane walls surrounding rooms that were provided with a minimum of furniture, she decided that she had not missed out on anything. It was the typical man cave. With its lack of decoration and the fminine touch that made every home a home, it appeared rather unwelcoming and cool to her.

Jeff returned from the bathroom without the toothbrush and went to the fridge to get some water.

“What did I earn your company with on this fine morning?” Jeff cocked an eyebrow at the woman standing in his living room. It was pretty relaxing that she had not started this morning with an argument and Jeff didn't know it yet, but Y/N was about to surprise him for the second time today.

With that, Y/N turned to him and took his body in one more time before shrugging her shoulders and continuing to look around his apartment. The apology she had planned was weighing on her chest, but now that she was actually standing here with him, alone, she didn't know if ‘I like your shirt’ was the best entry into this conversation. Apart from the fact that he was not even wearing a shirt, it was the best Y/N had come up with for an icebreaker.

She noticed some dog toys on the floor and decided to settle with that for the start.

“I Have a dog, too.” Y/N motioned to the water bowl next to her and forced a smile on her face to try and hide the humiliation that spilled over her in a giant wave.

Jeff looked into her eyes intently and answered with a frozen expression. “Yeah mine died last week.”

“Oh.” ‘I like your shirt’ suddenly seemd a lot less stupid. Y/N escaped a nervous laugh as she tried to come up with something to say, but Jeff just chuckled after noticing her puzzled expression.

“Just kidding, Nerf’s at the groomers.” A rush of adrenaline filled Y/N veins by those words. He was a dick, but she had to get this over with, somehow. Otherwise, Carly would whoop her ass and send her back to his door, right after and Y/n was not planning on this event to happen.

“Why don't you just tell me something you hate about this place and we take our separate path’s again?” Jeff was serious. He couldn't figure out, why she was here, or what she could possibly want from him, other than a battle of words, he would win anyways. So when Y/N fell silent again, he couldn't help but wonder if this was about something bigger than just another snarky comment.

“No.” Y/N looked away. Too big was the embarrassment she would face in the next minutes, if she was really going through with her plan of apologizing.

They had come so far already, not being caught up in an argument about something inconsequential for the whole time they were in his apartment and jeff could sense the conflict in her mind from a mile away. He was a pretty good liar himself and that subconsciously helped him to read people fairly well.

“How come you’re still so stubborn, Sugar?” A smirk snugg onto his face, again while he approached her from behind, trying to turn her focus to him.

Y/N had shivers running down her spine with those words. There was no denying, anymore. Jeff was an attractive man, but the fact that he knew it, gave her enough reason to not let him know how she felt about him. It was tough, and seeing that he had a dog, left her wondering if there weren't many more things they had in common.

She turned around and stared up at him. Jeff was dangerously close to her, but Y/N did not attempt to increase the distance between them. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but the things she would say next were uncomfortable, too. Where was the point in changing anything about their current situation when she knew that it only got worse from here on? Exactly, there was none.

“What I’ve been meaning to say is that… I’m sorry. I have been mean to your for the sake of keeping you off my mind and it didn't even work. I just started beef with you, because I was scared. I was scared to face the fact that you are a pretty nice guy and on top of that someone I could actually fall for. You have been nothing but nice to all of my friends and even me. That is, until I started to open my stupid mouth. I’m incredibly sorry, Jeff. I hope you know that everything I said to you was not to be taken seriously. And that I’m not mad at you for the things you said to me. I honestly think, I deserve for those to be tattooed on my forehead for my shitty behavior. I’m… ugh… I’m just sorry and I hope that we can start over. I would love to be your friend if you want that, too. Though, I would understand if you don’t. I’m sorry, I truly am.”

That was a much needed release of pressure, which was crushing Y/N’s soul with every second she had to hold it in. The hardest part was over. Now, she just had to deal with the consequences. And those were something Y/N surely did not expect.

“Can I kiss you?”, was all he said as he searched for her eyes in the glimmer of the morning sun rising outside his windows.

A shocked expression covered her face. She had just overcome the most embarrassing thing she could imagine and Jeff had totally ignored her. Rude.

“What?”

Jeff chuckled. “It's just, what you just said was pretty hot and I would just like to kiss you right now.”

Noone had ever initiated a kiss this casually and Y/N didn't care anymore at this point. She knew that the second Carly had told her to talk to Jeff, her mission of protecting herself from him and the eventual heartbreak, would be cancelled. And she was a 100% right.

“I guess I have a thing for people apologizing. Especially if they are as pretty as you.” Y/N shivered. That was, in a weird way, the sweetest thing she had heard in a long time and she couldn't help but nod her head ‘yes’.

Jeff didn't hesitate for another second. Too strong was the longing he had felt for her from the second she introduced herself to him months ago. He pushed his lips against hers, forcing her to stand on her tippy toes and locking her hands on his shoulders for support. They shared a closed mouth kiss for a couple of seconds before Jeff grabbed the back of her head with one hand. The other sneaking down her spine and stopping at the small of her back to push her even closer to him. A small whimper escaped Y/N’s lips and Jeff took that opportunity to slide his tongue in her mouth to french kiss. He explored her mouth, not leaving one corner untouched or unappreciated. Jeff was good at it. He was so good at it that Y/N just let herself fall into the kiss and let him take the lead, not even ringing his tongue for dominance. After a couple of seconds, she snuck her hands up his neck and buried her fingers into the buzzed hair on the back of his head. The stubbles tingled her skin and she just melted farther into his body.

They broke apart after what felt like hours. Both panting, they looked at each other still wrapped into one another. There was a comfortable silence and tension between the two of them that was buzzing in their heads like electricity.

“You know, I always liked you, Y/N. I knew you would drop your act, eventually and just be mine.” Jeff grinned down to her, knowing he had finally won her over.

“Keep up that attitude and I can't promise anything.” Y/N smiled, too. She was willing to see where this was going, but for now she would just live in the moment and enjoy the time, in which no one gave her a reason to worry about anything. Especially not Jeff.

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ubernoxa · 5 years ago

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The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses FanFiction

Chapter 33: Every Beauty

Masterlist

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Betsie and Delilah’s exfiance encounter the magazine article. Mags, Stef, and Del put on masks to pretend everything is okay. Not because they want it to be okay, but because it has to be okay.

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @queen-crue

Beth leaned back on the sofa that was tucked away in a small room hidden in the church basement. This ‘hidden’ room was her solitude. At first she couldn’t step foot step foot in the room, too afraid of the memories of Delilah that would flood back. It felt like only yesterday that four friends hatched a dare in this very room. She shook her head trying to get the thought out.

It was such a stupid dare!

Why did she ever agree to it?

How could she had been so stupid?

Beth wondered how different things would have been if she told Delilah no. Would Delilah have even gone on the dare? Guilt flashed over Beth to the night she abandoned her former friend at the bar. Originally Beth though she was courageous for not going into the bar, but after weeks and weeks had flown by, she only saw herself as a wimp and horrible friend.

“Hey I though I would find you in here,” Mat’s words pulled her out of her deadly thoughts.

He felt his heart sink as he found Beth curled up in a ball alone in the haunted room. He had prayed day and night in search of a way to help fight the demons that lived inside of her head, but it was useless. It was clearly a battle she had to fight herself, but that wouldn’t stop him from sitting with her or cuddling her if needed. All he knew was that he needed to be there for her to clean the wreckage Delilah had left in her path.

“Hey,” her voice was week as he joined her on the couch. She was thinking about Delilah, no doubt about it. Part of him wondered how much Delilah had thought of Beth. Had she ever regretted leaving or thought of the chaos she had created?

Mat wrapped his arm around Beth and she quickly snuggled into him. He watched tears slowly form in her eyes and gently cascade down her face. Sadly this wasn’t new to him. This was almost a weekly occurrence, every Saturday like clock work. The tears would come and she would melt into him like wax over a hot flame.

“If I have to make another berry pie or hear another child scream about how they don’t want berry pie, I think I’m going to lose it. God won’t be able to save those little whiny brats from my wrath,” Mat pulled Beth in closer earning a laugh from her. A laugh he surely missed. The laugh that used to frequently fill the room.

“Your wrath? What are you going to do, read them the Bible?” Beth teased back causing their laughter to fill the right room again.

“Hey! My readings are great!”

“No! You couldn’t be more wrong! Have you ever heard of not reading in a lifeless monotone voice?” Beth pulled away pointing at him with her index finger.

“It’s not my fault I get stuck with all of the ‘boring’ Bible versus!” Mat quickly shot back regretting ever volunteering to read for the children.

“David versus Goliath is ONLY boring when you tell it,” Beth chuckled, finally gaining her composure and sitting up straight.

“What time is it?” Beth added, regretting the fact that she didn’t wear a watch.

“Almost 11...did you buy my a watch that way you didn’t have to wear one?”

“That’s a secret I’ll never tell!” Beth mocked before she left the room laughing.

Mat sat up and let out a deep sigh. It was good to see her laugh. Her laugh was more beautiful than any song he had ever listened to. He pulled out the small velvet box he had in his pocket. He sighed as he knew it wasn’t the right time. Maybe someday.

Beth began to collect plates from the picnic tables and place them in large tubs for cleaning.

“Ohh dear, you’ve been working all morning. Why don’t you enjoy a slice of pie,” Beth looked up to see Mat’s mother handing her a slice, not noticing the quick glance his mother made towards Beth’s own hand.

“I just had an hour break, I’m fine,” Beth sweetly replied continuing to wash dishes.

“Honey, relax. We have a couple children who need to serve detention, and will more than happy to chose the chore of washing dishes instead,” the woman replied.

“Thank you,” Beth smiled as she took the plate and headed in search of Mat to share the pie with. He had been cooking them all morning and she highly doubted that he was able to have a slice. Plus she owed him for cheering her up. She didn’t want to imagine where she would be if he wasn’t there for her the past couple months.

She twisted and turned through the church until she found him still in the basement. This time he was at one of the large tables entertaining the children. In a quick glance, Beth noticed he needed to be rescued.

“Hey, Mat! Want to share a piece of pie? I heard the guy who cooked it was mediocre, but it’s still food,” Mat smiles when he saw that Beth was still in a good mood. He quickly said goodbye to the children and one of the nuns took his spot.

“Sure, wanna join Mark?” Beth quickly asked earning a nod.

“No way that’s totally Delilah” the pair froze as they heard the familiar name. Beth sidestepped and headed for the table of girls that appeared to be holding a magazine. Mat chased after Beth hoping that this wouldn’t go to sour too quickly.

“Hey Beth,” one of the with eighth graders sent Beth a warm smile as she hid the contraband under the picnic table hoping Beth wouldn’t see it. Beth saw it, clear as day. Her and Delilah used to do the same thing when they were in middle school.

“Come on, hand it over and I won’t turn you in,” Beth flashed a sweet smile to the eight graders. After a couple of seconds one of them broke the silence, “Give it to her Mary, she would be the best to know if it’s Delilah anyway.”

Mary placed the magazine on the table and Beth’s eyes grew wide.

“Holy fucking shit,” were the only words that came out of Beth’s mouth as she stared at the article.

“Is that the Doof guy” Mat asked looking at the cover, Beth ignored his words too focused on her own thoughts as she quickly went to page 7 where the article was.

“Duff, it’s Duff,” Beth pointed at a picture of Delilah and Duff dancing captioned, ‘late night after a gig, Bassist Duff Mckagan shares a sweet moment of slow dancing with girlfriend Del to Aerosmith’s single, Home Tonight’.

“Duff is a stupid name,” Mat said under his breath earning a nod from Beth.

“So is Del,” Beth replied. Mat pulled the magazine away from Beth before she could continue reading, earning a quick protest.

“Mat give me the magazine”

“No Beth, we all know this magazine is filled with nothing more than gossip. It’s not true and we don’t need to read it,” Mat calmly replied.

“Fine, Fine. We will probably see her in another article in a month or two when she ends up pregnant like that Mags chick that was also mentioned in the article,” Beth shot back.

Before Mat could think the words, ‘how could this get any worse’. Mark grabbed the magazine from him and stared at his ex fiancé posing scandalously with Duff on the cover.

Today was defiantly not going to be the day he proposed to Beth.

Less than an hour south of the church, the article was causing a similar chaos.

“I’m not ready to have a child,” Mags said no louder than a whisper as Tonya, Stef, and Del sat with her in the locked bathroom.

“You’ll make a great mom,” Instead of three pairs of eyes, Del felt like there were thousands starring at her. Del quickly added that to the list of things not to say to a pregnant woman who clearly didn’t want to be pregnant.

“How much longer?”

“A minute, Mags,” Tonya checked the stopwatch she tightly held in her hands.

All four girls sat together in silence beyond cramped in the mold infested bathroom. The stop watch buzzed, and Mags dove for the prgnacy test that was sitting on the countertop, or what was left of the countertop.

Mags remained frozen as she looked at the plastic stick.

Positive.

She had already known that she was pregnant. This test was just for Steven, but it still struck her like a freight train.

“I’m gonna get you some honey tea for you Mags, would anyone else like anything,” Stef asked before standing up. She was quickly followed by Tonya who volunteered to help carry the tea for all four of them.

“Steven get out to the kitchen, if you ask me about the pregnancy I will pour this warm water in your face,” Tonya said before stepping over towards the cabinets trying to find some tea bags.

Stef stood across the kitchen as she watched Steven eyes the bedroom door. He looked like a banished puppy. A hopeless banished puppy.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” For the first time all day Stef talked to Steven, her hushed voice causing his heart to melt. She walked over towards him, and he immediately pulled her in for a hug.

“Yeah, I know Stef...but”

“Stevie, you are a good older brother to not only Mags but everyone in this entire apartment. You will be an amazing uncle,” Stef looked up to see absolute shock in Steven’s face. She hadn’t meant for the last bit to slip, but she couldn’t take the words back.

“She’s keeping it?” Stef shrugged as she went back to joining Tonya in the kitchen.

Back in the moldy bathroom, Del moved to sit next to Mags on the floor. Mags immediately melted in Del’s arms, and once the first tear fell, the rest cascaded like a waterfall.

“Please don’t look at me,” Mags mumbled as Delilah tucked Mags’ hair behind her ears.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to you to see me like this, I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Just fuckin’ leave,” Mags spat as she pulled away.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Del shrugged. It was clear that Mags needed someone, and there was absolutely no way in hell she was leaving Mags alone in her current state.

“Ohh so you just want to watch a fucking train wreck?” Mags snapped back, careful not to yell in worry that more people would come into the small bathroom. She estimated she had a couple more minutes before Tonya and Stef came back with warm tea.

“If I wanted to look at a train wreck, all I have to do is look in a mirror,” Del’s monotone response caught Mags off guard resulting in silence slipping into the bathroom.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be judging me or some shit like that?” Mags spat. To her she was shocked that Delilah wasn’t lecturing her about her sins or condemning her or quoting bible versus.

“I’m here because you’re more than just my friend. As weird as it might sound I consider you as my sister. Plus the Bible doesn’t teach us to judge one another, it teaches acceptance and love. The Bible is open to some interpretation, and sadly most people abuse that and use it a an excuse to justify condemning others. To be honest, I’ve never understood why. Granted I do care that you’re pregnant, but now how you think. I care because you’re going to be going through a lot whether you keep the child or not. I want to be there like you have been there for me,” Delilah’s voice was no louder than a mouse. Several minutes passed and a comfortable silence filled the bathroom.

“Everything has beauty,” Mags looked down at her stomach and placed her hand on it as she spoke.

“But not everyone sees every beauty,” Delilah finished the sentence as she placed her hand on top of Mag’s own.

“Come on, we should get moving,” Mags said as they headed out of the bathroom.

“You should tell your boyfriend his apartment is disgusting,” Tonya mumbled to Stef as she eventually gave up on looking for not only tea, but clean cups.

“He knows,” Stef sighed back. It was a battle she had lost several times.

They both froze as they saw Mags and Del slip into the bathroom, undetected by the guys who were now relaxing in the main room that had the shit couches in it.

“So we need to get out of here without getting noticed,” Del whispered to Stef and Tonya who quickly nodded.

“Mags and I are going to slip through the fire escape, but can you two distract the guys?” Stef was a bit put off by Del’s idea of sneaking out before she talked to Duff, but one look at Mags changed her mind.

“Yeah, we can ask about their gig tonight,” Tonya said dragging Stef towards the guys.

They went their separate was, and everything was going smoothly until Del felt someone grab her arm as she was about to climb through the window and onto fire escape.

“Where the fuck are you going,” Del turned to see the red hair that matched Axl’s voice.

“Trying to leave without causing further damage,” Del shot back, not in the mood to deal with him. They needed to leave ASAP, and he was preventing that. What was he going to do, hold her prisoner?

“Are you okay?”

Del looked at Axl’s hand which was still tightly holding her wrist. She knew that there was no way of overpowering him, and if she resisted she would only drag attention to herself.

“If I answer will you let go of me? I have to catch up to Mags who is probably waiting for me,” Del whispered earning a nod from the red head.

She took a deep breath before speaking, “No.”

Axl watched the brunette as her eyes began to water, he gently let go of her wrist causing her to sprint towards the fire escape.

Delilah sat in the living room that she shared with Tonya and Mags reading the article over and over. She couldn’t wrap her mind around why Drew would do this. He told her that he loved Mags. Love must have meant something different here on the strip. Her heart ached at the thought of all the times Duff had told her he loved her.

There was one paragraph that stuck in her head, and haunted her in her dreams. The one paragraph her mind had over analyzed hundreds of times over.

‘This relationship is doom to fail, no doubtz At first glance one might think the pair have found the infamous true love, but upon a second glance one’s opinion would change. It isn’t a love story like the ones in the movies. This is a story of a guy who has manipulated an innocent foolish girl to fall head over heals for him when he clearly doesn’t have the same feelings for her. There are only two ways this relationship will end, and neither of them bode well for Del. The first option is that he moves on because he grows tired of her. The second is that she eventually catches him cheating, as all rockstars do, but forgives him when he gives her a half assed apology which she pathetically accepts. Eventually though he would move on, but the real question is what will she move on to do? She has nothing. While the old saying does say that opposites attract, but there is a reason opposites are opposites.’

“Del, throw that piece of shit out. You are only torturing yourself,” Stef joined Delilah who was currently sobbing on the couch like a high schooler who had her heart broken on prom night.

“You know that article is trash right? Drew made up this stupid shit so the articles would sell! He did it all for his pathetic career. People aren’t drawn to happy stories Del, they’re drawn to ones filled with drama. Trust me hun, I’ve seen the way Duff looks at you, and you don’t have to be worried. Now go put on something cute. We have a gig to go to,” Stef was quickly met with a grown from Delilah as she melted further into the couch.

“Delilah get off your ass and change. Either you’re changing yourself, or I will. This article means nothing. DUFF IS NOT CHEATING ON YOU. You have NOTHING to worry about okay?” Delilah nodded and headed over towards the kitchen where her bag was.

Feeling like the Delilah situation was under control, Stef headed back into Mag’s room.

“Before you open your mouth Stef, I’m going to save you the time. I’m not going to the gig tonight. Not because of the article. I don’t want to deal with my brother when he is like this. He needs to focus on his gig. I will still be pregnant tomorrow,” Mags snapped back to Stef the moment she entered the room. Stef’s attention quickly snapped to Tonya who nodded her head in agreence with what Mags had just said.

“Makes sense. Delilah and I will be heading out shortly. I think she is currently getting dressed. You’re welcomed to come, but you don’t have to. I get it,” Stef promptly left the room knowing that there was nothing she could do to change Mag’s mind. To say that Mags was stubborn was an understatement. She was a damn bull and once her mind was made up there was no changing it.

After planning a small movie night with Mags, Tonya walked into the kitchen noticing Stef chugging a beer. Tonya’s original intention was going to ask how Stef was doing, but the amount of vodka she had just consumed defiantly answered he question. Stef was not okay.

“So who do you think is going to beat up Drew first?” Stef looked up at Tonya before she finished her drink.

“My money is on Duff or Steven,” Stef made herself another drink as she spoke only worrying Tonya more. Usually Tonya was all for getting plastered, but in the spirit of having fun, not as a coping mechanism.

“I would have said Axl. He already had a shitty temper and is incredibly protective of the band,” Tonya casually replied. Stef shrugged before downing her drink again.

“If you tell him you didn’t say it and that Drew misquoted you then you don’t have to worry. Everyone will believe you. That entire article is filled with lies. Don’t worry you’ll be fine,” Tonya calmly spoke as she watched Stef continue to drink.

“What if I did say it? What if I did say that I didn’t think he was going to make it?” Stef’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Why would you...” Tonya was immediately interrupted by Stef before she could speak again,

“I would because I was drunk, and Steven is good but.....If he does make it everyone knows it will be short lived. With the money they will get they’ll drown themselves in booze and drugs. Don’t tell anyone but part of me doesn’t want them to make it. I’ve seen what the industry does to people and I don’t want it to happen to Steven.....Drew was interviewing me and I was by no means sober. I didn’t mean for it to come out, and he promised me he wouldn’t tell anyone. A girlfriend is supposed to be supportive and shit,” Tonya ran to Stef’s side as she began to cry.

“Shhh shh shh, you’re fine, no need to worry about it. Just deny it okay? You love him, I know you do. All you can do is be there for him, okay? That’s what you gotta do for him okay? Just be by his side through the think and thin....None of us are perfect Stef. So what you said something? It will all blow over in a week or two, now go fix your makeup because you and Del have a gig to go to,” Tonya flashed Stef a fake smile to cheer her up. Tonya shook her head as she watched Stef leave the kitchen. Tonya wondered if maybe she would be the first to beet the living shit out of Drew.

Delilah fidgeted with the hem of her skirt as her and Stef waited amongst some other girls for the guys to comeback from their quick sound check. Delilah watched true groupies, as Stef called them, as they walk around in heels that where higher than their hair. Paired with their clothes that with one wrong move they would flash themselves to the world. Delilah tried not to judge. She tried to ignored them as they flaunted themselves around, acting like they owned the place and sent Delilah glares. No matter how much she tried she hated them, and she hadn’t even spoken a word towards them.

“Just ignore them, believe it or not they’re jealous of us,” Stef whispered into Delilah’s ear before taking another shot.

“Jealous of having an article written about us or that we are dating a member of Guns N’ Roses?” Delilah questioned.

“Probably both,” Delilah chuckled back at Stef’s question.

“If they want an article that’s full of lies written about them, then they can fucking have it,” Delilah joked back.

“What about Duff?” Stef teased back.

“Over my dead body,” Stef watched as Delilah’s tone went sharp and a frown formed on her face.

“Don’t worry, you got that blonde under some sort of spell. I believe some people call it love,” Stef replied in attempt to pull Delilah back. There was no doubt in her mind that the article put Delilah a little on edge.

“Really?” Her voice sounded like a child when the question escaped her lips. Stef took a piece of Delilah’s hair and tucked it behind her ear.

“It’s clear as day hun,” Stef said as she watched Delilah take her fourth shot. For most a fourth shot in an hour wouldn’t cause any concern, but for a light weight such as Delilah it raised a lot of red flags.

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all-hail-the-witcher · 5 years ago

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six years ago today i saw newsies for the first time

may 14, 2014 was the day of my 7th grade class trip. every year the 7th graders went to see a broadway show, and it just so happened that my year we saw newsies. it Also just so happened that that year in tap we were doing king of new york because my dance teacher had gone to see it on broadway and was Blown Away and told us all about it. that was the first year i was in upper level tap and i had no idea what was going on, id stand in the back and watch the older girl’s feet and try not to cry cause i couldn't get it. and every night i went home and practiced. we went through like 3 different potential dances before finally landing on king of new york. i remember the first time they played the song and being so Hooked and wanting to learn more. my teacher only had a little bit choreographed but we all loved it so much that she choreographed more on the during out 5 minute break. that was the first time id ever seen anyone do that.

i remember when my mom told me that my class was going to see newsies and i was so excited. even better, we were going on wednesday and our show was on sunday, literally 4 days later. i woke up sick that day. it was allergy season and mine were really terrible. my mom told me that i didnt have to go if i didnt want to, and i looked at her like she was crazy. of course i was going. it was my first broadway show, it had d a n c e in it, and we were doing one of the numbers. i was wearing a blue dress from aeropostale and blue converse that i had doodled on. my hair was braided.

i remember standing in line outside the theater. i was with my friend who was also a dancer and my group chaperone. we were all excited. i was holding my ticket very tightly. i didnt want to drop it. by some miracle we were in the center of the rear mezzanine. i was in the first row of the tickets that my school had. but the nederlander was small. and i could see perfectly. the chairs were red velvet, kinda scratchy. my friend bought us both milk duds.

i sat down and immediately opened my program, looking for where king of new york was in the line up. it was the top of act 2. i sat and waited. the overture started. i was so excited. this was it! i sat on the edge of my seat, afraid to miss even a single second. and i watched. carrying the banner started. it was amazing. it had just the right beat. and oh my god they were leaping! my eyes widened, transfixed immediately. i only watched the ensemble. i had never seen people dance like that before. never. how were they doing that? someones hat fell off in carrying the banner when he was doing a flip. i laughed at that. how did more not fall off? how were they dancing and singing? i didnt even care that i couldn't breathe and was blowing my nose during the applause. the music was so good, lively. good dance needs lively music. i wasnt even paying attention to the plot i just wanted to watch the dance. i definitely screamed when they did the tape turns in seize the day. how was he turning on paper?? how could bodies move like that?

act one ended. i couldn't sit still the entire intermission. my friend was laughing at me for being so excited. how could i not be?? the first act was amazing, and there was More dance? i had to sit on my hands to contain my excitement. and then the music started. they started singing. and holy shit there was Tap. they were tapping. i leaned forward in my seat, transfixed. and then! holy shit?! they were doing the same choreography i was doing in my dance?? i knew how to do what those guys on stage were doing?! i started moving my feet under my seat, oh my god, i know how to Do This. holy shit holy shit holy shit. i smacked my friend in excitement. i almost fell off my chair i was sitting so close to the edge.

act two was a rush. i remember brooklyns here. i thought the guy who played spot was cute. and then it was the end. carrying the banner started playing again and i started crying cause oh my god it was such a good song and of course it ends with that. and then they reprised king of new york?! and the bows! that was crazy. i could not tear my eyes away from the stage. holy shit holy shit.

i went back home and begged my mom to let me download the songs. i looked up every video i could find on youtube of them dancing. i just wanted to watch them dance. i wanted to show my sister. i wanted to show everyone. i wanted to do what they were doing. i wanted to see it again. and again. and again.

i woke up with pink eye the next day. my mom made me stay home for two days because i had a show that weekend. it was worth it. i didnt care. i had seen newsies.

i put everything i had into that show. i had just had my growth spurt but i didnt have any muscles so i looked like a bean pole. the videos are hilarious. i thought i was killing it (i really wasnt).

i don't have a single picture from the day i saw newsies on broadway. i didnt have a phone yet, and my mom didnt take any pictures of me before i left. all i have is my playbill, my ticket stub, my memories, and the overwhelming feeling of joy and excitement. but that is more than enough.

#newsies #newsies will always be about dance for me #a small sneak peak of how newsies has affected my life

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waywardaardvark79 · 5 years ago

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Come Hell or High Water Part 5: Only When You’re Ready

Summary: Blackwick, Montana was going to be a fresh start for you and your five year old daughter. You moved in across the street from Officer Dean Winchester, and quickly found that you were able to help him. Will Dean be able to help you when your past comes back to haunt you?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: non graphic talk of past abuse, hurt Dean,

A week and a half later

"You're gonna do great. Everyone is gonna love you, trust me." Dean said to Aj. Her first day of kindergarten was in two days, and you didn't know who was more nervous, you or her. Dean had found himself giving you both pep talks as the day approached.

"Will you go with me?" she asked.

Dean smiled softly at her, "I'll take you inside." he said.

"But you won't stay?" she asked tears welling up in her eyes.

Dean's heart broke at the sight. He quickly figured out that he wasn't able to refuse anything she asked. "They won't let me stay, princess." he gently explained. Aj's bottom lip started to quiver, "But I'll be there when you get out, and maybe we can go get ice cream." he said, trying to cheer her up.

"You promise?" she asked.

"Promise." he said.

You walked out of your office and stretched your arms over your head, your shirt riding up with the motion. The opening of your door had pulled Dean's attention in your direction, the faded, jagged scar peeking out from the top of your pants held it there. Aj noticed him staring and whispered , "That's momma's boo boo, but don't worry, it doesn't hurt anymore. It just looks funny." she said.

Dean looked down at her with a sad smile, "Does she have any other ones?" he asked.

Aj nodded, "One time she had a whole bunch, but they went away. Her belly ones look funny like that one though." she said.

Dean quickly put the pieces together, "But don't say anything, it makes her sad." she whispered.

"You don't have any do you?" he asked with bated breath, praying that she said no.

"No, just this one." she said pointing to her knee where she had slipped outside earlier in the week.

Dean slowly exhaled the breath he was holding, "You know that if anyone ever tried to hurt you or your mom you could tell me, or Sam." he said.

She nodded her head, "Cause your cops, and you would take them to jail." she said.

Before Dean could say anything else you walked over, "What are you two whispering about?" you asked.

"Ah, nothing, just club business." Dean lied.

"I'm still not allowed into this elusive club?" you asked, perching yourself on the arm of the couch.

Aj had invented a club a few days earlier, her, Dean, and Rocky the only members. "I mean, Sam even has a pending membership." you argued.

"Sam bought me this." Aj said as she held up the little, stuffed German Shepherd.

"Maybe we should think about letting her in. Your mom is pretty cool." said Dean.

Aj looked up at him, and then quickly jumped off the couch and headed up stairs. "What was that about?" you asked.

Dean held out his wrist and you noticed the purple beaded bracelet, "Only official club members get em'. We made them this morning. Think you may be on your way in." he said.

You smiled brightly at the rugged man sitting before you, proudly showing off his purple bracelet, "One can only hope." you said.

Aj returned a few moments later, and slipped a purple bracelet on your wrist. "Now everybody will know we're all together." she said.

"What about Rocky?" you asked. The dog raised his head at the mention of his name, and you noticed the bracelet hanging from the loop of his collar, and you laughed.

"Rocky got his before me." said Dean.

The phone you used for work started ringing, and you pulled it from your pocket, quickly slipping into your customer service voice and answered it, "Hi, this is Y/N with Teladoc. I'll be your nurse today. How may I help you?" you asked. You listened, able to hear someone breathing on the other end of the line, but they didn't say anything. "How may I help you?" you asked again. Suddenly the line went dead, and you pulled the phone from your ear and hung up. "Guess they didn't need help." you shrugged, ignoring the bad feeling that you had. "I better get back to it." you said as you started to head into your office, the pit in your stomach growing with each step.

The end of the day came, and you didn't have any more hang up calls. You told yourself that you were overreacting. Maybe they didn't have good signal and the call dropped. Someone did call in saying they had trouble getting through not long after. You pushed away your fear, finished up the last bit of your work, and walked out of your office, telling yourself that you weren't going to dwell on it anymore.

Sam was sitting on your couch, telling Aj how much he loved his bracelet when you walked in. "Hey Y/N." he greeted.

"You're here early." you said as you sat next to Dean on the couch.

"I was just filling in for somebody today. They ended up coming in after all." he said.

"Give me just a minute, and I'll get his meds together." you said, starting to stand up.

"Well, I was wondering, if it wouldn't be too much trouble if Dean could hang out a little longer?" he asked.

"Sammy, got himself a date." Dean said.

You raised one eyebrow at him, "A date, huh?" you asked.

"It's not a date, per say. I'm just going to dinner with a friend." Sam said

"Would this friend happen to be Eileen?" you asked, trying to keep your smile at bay.

Sam quickly turned to Dean, "Seriously?" he asked.

"Oh come on, Sammy. We all know you like her. Y/N doesn't even know who she is and she knows." Dean said.

"Because someone has a big mouth." Sam said as he glared at Dean.

"You talk about her ALOT." said Aj, stressing the word a lot.

You and Dean broke out into a fit of laughter, "She ain't wrong." you said.

"Guys, Eileen said the funniest thing today. Guys, Eileen told me this really interesting story today." mocked Dean.

You gently smacked his shoulder. "You go have fun Sam. She sounds like a lovely person. We will be fine here. Don't worry." you said.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

You nodded , and walked into the kitchen with him. "Everything ok?" you asked.

Sam looked down at his feet, "Could you maybe, help me pick out something to wear? I'm a little nervous. This is kinda my first date since Jess." Sam quietly said.

You knew that Jess was Sam's girlfriend that had died in a tragic accident a few years ago. You patted him on the shoulder, "Sure thing, Sam. Just bring a few choices over and I'll help you get ready." you said.

Sam thanked you, and told you he would be back over after his shower. You escorted him to the front door and told him you would see him soon. "What was that?" Dean asked when Sam left.

"He's nervous, and wanted me to help him decide what to wear." you said as you crossed the room and sat next to him. "Give him a break. No teasing." you said.

"Yes, ma'am." said Dean.

Sam came back over just as the three of you were finishing dinner. You pointed him to the downstairs bathroom, and told him to try on what he brought so you could see it on. "You look like a seventh grader at his first dance." said Dean as Sam came out of the bathroom.

"Hush." you scolded as you swatted his shoulder.

"Easy Nurse Ratched, I'm beat up enough." he said.

"Sam, you look great." you said. You watched as he nervously fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt.

"Yeah, you look real pretty, Sam." Aj said.

"He does, doesn't he." teased Dean.

Sam ignored him and turned to you, "I shouldn't be too late." he said.

"You know I got that appointment in the morning. It would probably just be easier if I stayed here." said Dean.

"Oh, a sleepover!" Aj shrieked. "Can he stay, momma?" Aj pleaded.

Dean stuck out his bottom lip, "I'll be good." he said.

You rolled your eyes, "Fine." you said. You turned to Sam, "Get out of here. Have a good time." you said as you started to pull him towards the door.

"Are you sure it's ok?" he asked. You opened the front door and ushered him out, "It's fine." you said, again.

"Just try not to kill him." Sam joked.

"No promises." you said, as you closed and locked the door.

"Alright ladies, let's get this party started." said Dean.

"Oh no, no party. We have an early appointment tomorrow, and someone is sticking to their school bedtime." you said.

"But moooom, school hasn't started." Aj whined.

"You need to get used to going to sleep earlier." you said, before turning to Dean, "And you got a big day tomorrow too, so early bedtime for you too." you finished. You argued with the two of them for a few minutes, before finally agreeing that they could watch one movie and then it was off to bed.

The credits to the movie started to roll, and you looked over at Aj, who was fast asleep, tucked into Dean's side. "Let me get her in bed, and I'll bring you some more pillows and a blanket." you said as you eased her into your arms, Rocky trailing behind you.

You got her tucked into bed, Rocky taking his place at her feet, and you walked into your bedroom to grab some pillows and a blanket for Dean. You walked into the living room to see him trying to get comfortable on the couch. You dropped the pillows and blanket on the coffee table, "Come on, you can't sleep here." you said.

"Sick of me already?" he asked.

"A little." you deadpanned.

Dean clutched his hand to his chest in mock hurt. "I'm taking you upstairs." you said.

Dean wiggled his eyebrows at you, "Oh, really?" he asked.

You shook your head at him and held out your hand to help pull him into a seated position. "You wanna try the crutches?" you asked. Dean nodded, and you ran to grab them from your office.

The two of you went at a slow and steady pace, both of you breathing heavy when you finally reached the second floor. You pushed open your bedroom door and quickly turned down the covers before Dean plopped down on the side of the bed. He collapsed backward, drawing in a deep breath, "I'm gonna need a minute." he said.

"I'll go get your meds." you said.

When you came back Dean was in the same spot. "Here, sit up." you said as you placed his meds on the nightstand, and held your hand out to help him. Once he was upright you handed him his meds, and water to wash them down with. "You wanna sleep in your shirt?" you asked.

"If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask." he teased.

"I've gotten you naked plenty of times." you retorted.

"Wanna join me this time?" Dean asked with a wink, still breathing a little heavy.

"I think the stairs was a good enough work out for you tonight. I wouldn't want to break you." you said.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't break that easy." he said.

You eyed him up and down, "Well sweetheart, I beg to differ." you said, as you sat his bottle of water next to the bed. "Shirt on or off?" you asked again.

"Off." he said.

You grabbed the bottom of his shirt and carefully worked it over his head. "Scoot back a little." you said. Dean eased himself back a little more, and you grabbed his legs and lifted them in bed while he turned. You fluffed the pillow behind his head, and pulled the covers up over him. "There ya go. Night Dean." you said as you started to turn to go backstairs, but Dean grabbed your hand.

"Hey, Y/N, I just....thank you." he genuinely said.

You gave his hand a little squeeze, "You're welcome." you said, and he released your hand.

You made it to the door of your bedroom when he called out for you, "Hey, Y/N. I think I might have a fever." he said.

You rushed back to his side, and placed your palm on his forehead. "No fever. Is something hurting. The wound on your thigh is almost healed. It can't be that." you rambled out as you looked him over.

"You sure you checked right? I really feel like I have a fever." he said.

You put your hands on your hips, "Of course I checked right. Unless you want me to go grab a thermometer? You don't have a fever." you argued.

"See, cause I could swear you were supposed to check with your lips. I mean, I'm not medically trained, but I'm pretty sure." he said.

The realization of what he was doing hit you, and you narrowed your eyes at him before slowly bending down and gently pressing your lips to his forehead. "No, fever." you whispered.

"My cheek feels kinda warm. Maybe you should check there." he said.

You pressed your lips to his cheek, lingering a little longer this time, "Cool as a cucumber." you said, pulling back a little, your faces now only inches apart.

"Hmm....well, I know one more place you could check." he said, running his tongue over his full bottom lip afterward.

"Is that so?" you asked, moving close enough to feel his breath.

"Mmhmm." he hummed, you felt his hand slide up your back, and come to a rest on the back of your neck. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, Dean offering you an out that you didn't take, before he gently pulled you forward and your lips met his.

The kiss started soft and sweet, the two of you really taking your time with each other, not wanting to move too fast. Before too long you felt his tongue run across your bottom lip, and you parted your mouth for him to deepen the kiss. You felt his fingers twist in your hair, and you moaned into his mouth. He tightened his grip on you, pulling you against his chest, and you threw one leg over his body to straddle him.

You automatically rolled your hips a little, and felt him groan low in his chest, his hold on you tightening. You slowly started to pepper kisses along the side of his face and down his neck, before working your way back up, pulling his earlobe into your mouth and giving it a teasing bite. You felt him exhale a long, shaky breath, and pressed your lips to his once more. Just as things were staring to get heated, you felt his hand slide under your shirt, his thumb running along the edge of the jagged scar that peaked out of your jeans, and you froze.

Dean felt your whole body tense, and he wanted to kick himself. You quickly pulled back, "Dean....I, uh...I." you rambled out.

"Too fast. I'm sorry." he said.

You squeezed your eyes shut, and shook your head, still sitting on top of him. You willed your tears not to come, squeezing your eyes shut even harder. "We don't have to." Dean quietly said. Your breath hitched in your throat. You wanted to, God, did you want to, but you didn't want him to see you, not after everything HE did. If Dean saw you would have to explain everything, and what if he thought less of you. Dean didn't say anything as he watched you have an internal battle with yourself. "Y/N, would you please look at me?" he gently asked. You shook your head no. "We don't have to. It's fine." he said, his voice full of sincerity.

You cracked open your eyes to see Dean staring at you with such concern. Your mind kicked into overdrive, a millions thoughts racing around at once. He probably thought something was wrong with you, thought you were damaged, felt pity for you. You pushed the thoughts away, determined to show him that he was wrong.

You quickly worked your way down his body until you were settled between his legs. You hooked your fingers into the top of his sweats and started to work them down when his hand on your wrist stopped you. You couldn't place the look on his face, and your mind immediately started screaming that he didn't want you. Who could want you? "No, sweetheart." he softly said.

You felt the tears burning your eyes as you gave everything you had to keep them from falling. He didn't want you. You tried to blink them away, and started to try to get up to get away from him, but he still had ahold of your wrist. "C'mere." he said. You quickly averted your eyes and hung your head, completely embarrassed of your behavior. You felt his finger underneath your chin, and he slowly lifted it until you were looking at him. "Get up here." he said.

You slowly eased your way up, and he pulled you down to him, your head laying on his chest. You felt his arm wrap around you and squeeze you to him. "Not until you're ready. I want to wait until you're completely ready." he whispered.

You wrapped your arm around his waist and managed to choke out, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." he said, but you didn't reply. "You know I would never hurt you, right?" he asked.

You simply nodded your head, the conversation starting to get too close to a subject you didn't want to talk about. "I know." you finally whispered.

You felt Dean kiss the top of your head, "Get some sleep, sweetheart. I'm here. Everything is going to be ok." he said. You felt yourself start to drift off to sleep in his arms and you prayed that he was right.

The next morning you were awakened by Aj standing at the side of your bed softly calling out for you. You opened your eyes and sleepily asked, "What's wrong, honey? Are you ok?"

“Dean opened his eyes and stretched his arms over his head, "Mornin', Princess." he said to Aj.

She looked back and forth between the two of you. "Why did Dean sleep in your bed?" she asked.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a minute, "Because it was more comfortable for him. He can't really fit on the couch." you explained, hoping that would end the conversation.

"Why isn't he wearing a shirt?" she asked.

You felt Dean tense next to you, "I, uh, I got hot." he said.

She looked at the two of you suspiciously, "Momma, is Dean your boyfriend?" she asked.

Dean turned to you, and watched you panic, "H...How do you know what a boyfriend is?" you asked, avoiding answering the question.

Aj sighed dramatically, "I'm not a baby. I know what a boyfriend is." she said.

You sat up, and she started to head for your door, "Cause it'd be ok with me, if he was." she said as she walked out.

"No more tv for you." you said under your breath as you got up.

You looked over to Dean who was trying his best not to smile. "What?" you asked.

He pointed towards the door, "I got the kid's approval." he said with a smirk

. "One step at a time." you said to him.

"One step at a time." he said with a soft smile.

You went to your closet to grab your clothes for the day, "One step at a time." repeating over and over in your head.

#supernatural #supernatural au #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #reader insert #dean #cop dean #sam winchester

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halstudandruz · 6 years ago

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Scary Reality

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: Yes (for @hehurst23)

Prompt: Reader Elementary teacher

Warnings: Shooting

I had seen it on the news. I had done trainings. We had made plans. Even in spite of all of this you never believe it’ll ever happen to you. Until it does. It sounded like fireworks going off, followed by screams. I knew. I didn’t need any announcement. I knew. The problem I was now faced with was helping those injured or keeping my kids safe. Of course we were always taught to stay in our rooms, but those were just drills. They never prepared you for what could actually happen. Even though there seemed to be no right way to go about it, no right choice, I quickly chose the latter locking the door and turning the lights off. I hushed the kids, which was a task in itself when it came to teaching 3rd graders. I huddled them together in the corner behind my desk. Of course they asked a million questions, but I just reminded them to do it like the drill. I was hoping deep down I had missed an email and this was just a drill, but I knew. I had heard the pops, I had heard the screams and I knew. It seemed too close for comfort. They could’ve been outside the door any second, breaking their way in and causing more damage than they had already. Obviously you can’t show your fear when you have 20 eight year olds staring up at you. They were old enough to still have innocence in them, but also old enough to put together what was happening. So, I did my best to keep them occupied. We sat there for what seemed like days, or what I was pretty sure was a few hours. Eventually I heard footsteps and the door handle wiggled. Even though I was pretty sure by now they had caught the guy my heart still lept into my throat.

“Holly?” I heard from outside the door. I immediately recognized it as Jay’s voice. I let out a huge breath I didn’t realize I was holding heading towards the door to open it. Once I opened the door he flew in closing the door behind him. I gave him a weird look as he shook his head. I then realized there must’ve been blood still in the hall. I swallowed back a lump in my throat knowing the kids were still watching. Jay pulled me into a tight hug kissing my head as the children made “ew” sounds at us. I laughed a little glad that they were not understanding the full extent of what was happening. “I’m so glad you guys are okay.” Jay whispered into my ear before pulling away and heading over towards the kids. They knew who Jay was thanks to the couple presentations he had given in my classroom, as well as random occasions he would bring me lunch or flowers. As a teacher you obviously get attached to the kids, and Jay had listened to my stories on end after everyday roping him in as well. “Alright, guys can you do something for me?” Jay asked kneeling in front of them all still huddled in the corner nodding at him. “Okay, I need you all to get into a line for me. Hold the hand of the person in front of you.” Jay explained as they all stood up locking hands. “Good job. Now I want you to close your eyes really really tight okay? Don’t open them cause I’ll know,” Jay joked trying to keep the situation light, “I’m going to guide you guys out just hold the persons hand tight and keep those eyes shut.” I appreciated that Jay didn’t want to take any chances of them seeing anything. Jay grabbed the hand of the little girl in the front as I went to the back of the line. I tried to keep my head towards Jay not wanting to risk seeing anything either as he guided us all out of the building. We passed a classroom where Adam was guiding a group out. He asked me if I was good and I nodded continuing to hurry out. When we got out I huddled the kids into a group taking roll call one more time before helping each kid find their parent. As Jay went back in to help more rooms out. I sighed heavily once I handed off the last kid to his mom, and headed over to where some of those from the intelligence and 51 were gathered. As they saw me coming they each pulled me into a hug.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening.” I blinked back tears shaking my head. They all agreed assuring me that they had caught the guy. They informed me that there had only been one fatality along with about 6 injured. Apparently the guy had some bad blood with an ex girlfriend who worked at the school, who was also the fatality, which is all Voight and Antonio has gotten out of him so far. I had known the girl she was very sweet and it was crazy to me that someone would want to hurt her, let alone do something so crazy. After the scene was cleared everyone headed back to the unit. I didn’t want to be home alone so I just followed them. I sprawled out on the break room couch mind racing as they attempted to do reports of everything that had happened. Not long after Jay came walking in.

“Come on babe. Let’s go home.” Jay said from the door way holding out my coat.

“Are you done already?” I asked surprised.

“I’ll finish tomorrow. Voight told me I could go home and be with you.” Jay explained walking over to pull me up. I nodded getting up and following him out. Everyone had hugged me on my way out. It didn’t take long for us to get home. I hopped in the shower quickly wanting to wash the day off of me. After getting out I dried myself and threw on Jay’s shirt that he had left on the sink for me. Upon walking in Jay’s room he was already laying in his bed. Once he saw me walking in he locked his phone laying it on his night stand. He pulled back the covers waiting for me to slide in. He pulled me closer into his body making my body relax ever so slightly. Jay began to rub his hands from my neck down my back rubbing lightly. It was then that everything came crashing down tears following as I let out a sob. Jay sighed pulling me around so my head was resting on his chest. “I know baby. I know. It’s okay.” He continued to repeat rubbing up and down my back kissing my head. Exhaustion was quickly taking over me with each sob. Eventually I felt myself fall between the brink of sleep and just slightly conscious. “I was so worried. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you, Holly. I love you so much.” He confessed. I built up enough motivation to kiss him on the chest letting him know I heard him before falling back asleep quickly, knowing it would take a while to get over it all, but as long as I had Jay by my side I could do it.

#jayhalsteadxreader #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader

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goodlucktai · 6 years ago

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get what you give

all for the game pairing: gen word count: 1823 title borrowed from you get what you give by new radicals read on ao3

Nicky checks his phone on a stolen five minute break halfway through his shift to find a forbidding voicemail and an alarming number of missed calls from the middle school office.

Heart in his throat, he punches redial. The secretary who picks up answers with a mellow sort of cheer that is the opposite of the urgency Nicky needs from her right now.

“Hi, Nicky Hemmick,” he says, right over the tail end of her practiced greeting. “I missed a call about my cousins-- Andrew and Aaron Minyard. Are they okay? What happened?”

Probably the right response is something other than automatic, knee-jerk panic, but this is all Nicky’s got. His break time comes and goes while the secretary has him on hold, and when the line reconnects, Nicky is greeted by the much more efficient vice principal.

“Your cousins are perfectly fine,” Mrs. McCaffrey says, sounding annoyed in that slick way professionals can get away with over the phone. “It’s a disciplinary issue that we need you here for, Mr. Hemmick, as soon as you’re able.”

His shift at Sweetie’s is another two hours, but one look at his face and the phone clenched in his hand has the other two servers trading knowing looks and assuring him they’d handle the rest of lunch without him.

“I have kids, too,” Lisa says. “I know how much a little extra help can mean, and you cover for me all the time. Now, scoot.”

“Bring those boys in for ice cream later,” Brian adds. “Something tells me the four of you will need it.”

Thanking a god he only believes in half the time, Nicky all but runs out the door. His car decides to be cooperative today, starting with a putter on his second twist of the starter, and with that he’s tearing across town like a bat out of hell.

The vice principal said they weren’t hurt, but what happened? Why was she so tight-lipped over the phone? He bends the speed limit, then breaks it, and pulls into the parking lot barely twelve minutes after hanging up the phone.

Nicky tries not to burst into the office, but he’s pretty sure that’s exactly what he does. He’s still got his waist apron on, his jacket thrown haphazardly on over his uniform, and he all but trips over the front desk in his haste to ask, “I’m here, I’m— Nicky. Where are—“

Before the bemused secretary can speak, a quiet voice says his name, and Nicky turns to find Neil on the bench seat just inside the office door, wearing a black jacket that isn’t his and sporting a colorful bruise on the left side of his face.

Nicky is crouched in front of him before he makes any conscious decision to move, cupping the little boy’s chin in one careful hand.

It took almost a year to get here, but Neil doesn’t flinch when his hand moves. He leans into the touch, eyes electric blue and stricken. He says, “It was my fault, not Andrew’s. No one will listen to me. Will you tell them?”

The vice principal is stepping out from behind the counter to meet him, but Nicky doesn’t get up right away. He faces her, so Neil doesn’t catch so much as the corner of his scowl, and says, “You told me they weren’t hurt.”

“Your boys are fine, Mr. Hemmick. Neil is—“

“I’m his emergency contact,” Nicky bites out. “You call me.”

“Let’s have this discussion in my office, please,” the woman says stiffly.

Well, now he has some idea what this is about.

Nicky gives Neil his keys to hold onto, waiting until some of the anxiety melts out of the boy’s tense shoulders. Neil traces the teeth of the house key with the tip of his finger and gives a little nod, and Nicky turns to follow the vice principal into her office. He only makes it a step inside the door.

“Woah, hey,” he says, when two nine-year-olds throw their full weight against his legs. He kneels, and their tight grips go from his waist to his shoulders. “Hey, c’mon. It’s okay.”

They lift their heads. They don’t look shaken. Andrew’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, and Aaron’s hazel eyes are blazing. They’re mad , pint-sized tempers blown, and that settles something in the pit of Nicky’s chest, cold fear receding into the back of his mind for another day. He can deal with this.

“It was Roman’s stupid fault,” Aaron snaps. “Andrew shouldn’t be in trouble!”

“Language,” Mrs. McCaffrey says, and Nicky doesn’t give in to the childish urge to glare at her. The boys do it for him a second later, anyway.

“How about you tell me what happened,” Nicky says. “Does this have anything to do with Neil’s bruise?”

“Roman’s a dumb fifth grader. He doesn’t like Neil ‘cause Neil beat his time on fitness day. He ran a mile in like six minutes, a minute and something faster than Roman,” Aaron says. His tone is a conflicted mix of aggravation and pride, pulled in two different directions by this bully and his best friend. “Today at recess Roman and his friends pushed Neil behind the bleachers but me and Andrew saw him.”

“You should have gone to a teacher immediately,” McCaffrey scolds them. “We don’t tolerate bullying of any magnitude. I know we went over the policy together at length when Andrew enrolled. If you boys had gone to a teacher, Roman would have been disciplined for his actions and the two of you wouldn’t be in trouble in the first place.”

“But Neil would have been beat up worse than he already was,” Aaron shoots back. “He shouldn’t’ve got beat up any.”

His hands are clenched in Nicky’s shirt. Andrew is a golden shadow at his side, a mirror image of frustration.

If they were as big as all their caring, Nicky thinks, they’d probably be ten feet tall.

“What happened when you two got there?” Nicky presses. He looks at Andrew this time, not liking how nonverbal the older twin has been so far. “Drew?”

He doesn’t answer for a long minute. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets. Nicky doesn’t push, and neither does the vice principal. Finally, giving each word up as though they cost him something, he says, “They were trying to pull off Neil’s shirt. They make fun of him for wearing long sleeves in PE sometimes.”

Dread creeps into Nicky’s chest and sets up camp there.

Neil guards his scars like his life is on the line, with a violent desperation better suited a drowning man than an eight-year-old boy. Nicky has seen them a few times, but never for very long, and only because Neil trusts him enough to part with his hoodie every now and then, for just as long as it takes Nicky to run a load of laundry.

Nicky is sick to his stomach at the mental image of Neil cornered by older boys, struggling to keep his ruined skin covered.

“He kept saying no and they wouldn’t stop,” Andrew goes on. “I made them stop.”

Nicky bites the inside of his cheek, but it doesn’t stop his heart from breaking. He pulls his boys in closer, squeezing them tight, and says, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you.”

“Mr. Hemmick, ” the vice principal says, scandalized. “We do not reward this behavior.”

“Can you guys wait for me outside?” Nicky says, and they look up at him with trust in their eyes. Nicky would pretty much set himself on fire to safeguard that trust. “Neil could use the company. I just need to sort some stuff out here, and then we’ll head home for the day, okay?”

Aaron nods, and Andrew leads the way to the door. Only when it’s closed behind them does Nicky look at the vice principal. The fear and worry and anger gives way, and it’s all he can do not to shout.

It’s public school. What can he really expect from public school?

“Mr. Hemmick-- “

“I’m one more “Mr. Hemmick” away from causing a scene. I mean, a full-on scene. You knew when we came to you at the beginning that there were conditions. You promised them a safe environment. You promised you had staff with the right kind of training, to give them proper attention. You, personally, yourself, sat down in a meeting with their therapist so none of this would come as a surprise. We discussed this for so long. We talked about how traumatized kids might act out, and you signed off on everything with perfect confidence and all the right, pretty things to say to make me think they’d be okay here, and this-- this isn’t even the first issue we’ve had this year. And it’s barely November. What the hell is wrong with you?”

The woman sits behind her desk, looking slightly paler than she was when she greeted him. She shuffles papers for a moment, to give her hands something to do, Nicky guesses, and then waves him toward a chair.

“I apologize,” she says, and she sounds tired. “Please sit. Let’s discuss this from the beginning.”

By the time he joins the boys in the waiting room, someone had the good sense to get them something to drink. They’re all sitting in a huddle, clutching little paper cups, and look up in unison when Nicky comes over.

“Sorry, Nicky,” Neil says immediately, even though it makes Andrew pinch his arm.

“Are we still in trouble?” Aaron asks indignantly while his best friend and brother scuffle to one side.

“‘Course not, what do you take me for?” Nicky ruffles his blond mop. “Extra meetings with the counselor during the week, but we were talking about that anyway, right?” At their round of nods, he gestures toward the door. “C’mon, Neil. I signed you out, too.”

“Did they call my mom?”

“No, kiddo, they didn’t. It’s alright.”

Nicky shepherds them toward the car. Neil says, “Thanks for your jacket, Andrew. Do you want it back?” and Andrew says, “No, idiot,” and Aaron says, “At least we got out of English. I hate English.” Nicky rolls his eyes at their rabble and makes sure seatbelts are buckled and doors are shut before he turns them onto the road home.

He has the morning off tomorrow, and a call from Erik to look forward to tonight. Neil will probably sleep over, so Nicky will order in, make dinner a little special, to take the last stressful edge off the events of this afternoon. With any luck, the worst is behind them for now.

Nicky recognizes Aaron’s favorite song when it comes on the radio, a few seconds before Aaron does. He turns it up loud, smiling at the delighted little hoot from the backseat, and lets the kids all scream along for the rest of the ride home.

#all for the game #the foxhole court #nicky hemmick #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #neil josten #aftg #my writing #aftg fic #get what you give

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why-do-i-like-the-bad-guys · 5 years ago

Text

What were you doing in 4th grade?

I’ll tell you what I was doing. I was trying to make sense of why my brother would break into 2 of my neighbors houses and steal stuff. One of those neighbors had a girl in my grade that went to the same school as me. And the other neighbors were like a second family to me. But that all changed. They didn’t want to see us anymore. The whole neighborhood knew.

This is how I found out about it: I came home from school and ran into our living room to tell my mom that I was going to play with the neighbors. My mom stopped me and sat me down. She told me that they didn’t want to see us anymore because my brother had broken into their house and stole stuff. My brother was in 7th grade at the time. My brother had a court hearing while I was in school a few weeks later. Every time I saw the other neighborhood girl at school it just reminded me what my life had become.

We were basically shunned by a big chunk of the neighborhood. Imagine that your in fourth grade and feel constantly judged wherever you go. My mom ran into family members of the neighbors at the stores and she would feel ashamed. I remember many times I caught my mom crying in the kitchen when one particular song came on the radio. She didn’t even try to hide it. One day I came home from school and saw a flash of my brother running upstairs in my mom’s bathing suit. I didn’t know what to do. I ran outside and went across the street because I knew he wasn’t allowed to go over there.

I sat on the curb crying as my brother tried to get me to go back home. Eventually I did. When my parents came home I told them what happened. I remember i smirked as I heard him getting yelled at. You know how it goes with siblings. I didn’t understand why my brother would do something like that and I still don’t. My mom started locking her bedroom door every time they left us home alone. I remember one time they told me to keep an eye on my brother. Basically babysit him. Also I lost another best friend of mine in 4th grade she switched schools and we never really talked again.

I had to deal with what was happening on my own because my parents never talked about it around me. When I would ask a question they would get angry. So I learned to stop asking questions and not tell anyone what happened. As a 4th grader I had to deal with the fact that my brother was in legal trouble and because of that my best friends didn’t want to see me anymore. And you would think that my turmoil would be over by middle school but it wasn’t.

My nighbor’s aunt was a teacher at my middle school. She knew about what went down. But thankfully she was very kind to me. I was still afraid to ask questions about what happened. But she assured me that my neighbors missed me and they wished that circumstances were different. I also made a friend in middle school and she ended up leaving the state. My grandpa (dad’s dad) accidentally ran over my grandma with a four wheeler. (She lived she just needed a back brace for a while.) then he started having back problems so he wore a back brace too.

He is an active guy so he was working in his garage when he caught fire. He ended up having 3rd and 4th degree burns on 20% of his body. Destroying the nerves. The doctors were amazed that he recovered so quickly and nicely.

This situation followed me all through high school as well. But I think I was the only who was actually still dealing with it. My parents had seemed to move on so did my brother. But I couldn’t. Because there was constant reminders in my mind. I still carried the shame and guilt. It also didn’t help that freshman year was the beginning of a whole new situation that would last a whole 5 years. My oma (moms mom) fell and had an open head injury. Let’s just say that my Oma picked on me constantly growing up. I was the only grandchild that she picked on.

It wasn’t in a loving way either. She was down right mean. Telling me I dress nicer. Behaved better. Yada yada. It got so bad at points that my mom and her would get into big arguments that ended with my mom and I leaving their house in tears.

Anyway this woman required constant care and my aunt refused to put her in a nursing home because she is a complete control freak! My mom had to go there everyday to help out. Every year it was always something new with my oma. She broke a lot of bones, had pneumonia, etc. Like seriously this woman wouldn’t die!

This meant I was home alone in the summertime before freshman year. In the same neighborhood. Thankfully God blessed me with my dog. So I didn’t feel so alone. In the middle school years I had made some new friends. But I always stopped hanging out with them. I dumped the friendship cold turkey. No warnings. No nothing...

So my mom would come home exhausted. When freshman year started she was part of the elementary school committee. The elementary school was right next to the high school. So my mom would bring me to school around 7 O’clock because her meetings started soon after. I was one of the first people in school everyday. I didn’t mind. There was a history teacher that would open up the art room for me. Sophomore year luckily one semester I had the same history teacher for first period so I would just sit in the classroom and doodle.

Junior year we got a new building. And I got my car. Now things between my mom and I weren’t good. We would get into arguments in the morning. So I started going to school early again. Also I moved in my junior year. We built a new house and it felt like it was going to be a fresh start. It was but the new neighbors didn’t like that we cut down some trees. They said that they liked their privacy. Well sorry but we don’t want trees falling on our house.

My mom was still taking care of my Oma while my aunt went to work. My mom was retired from teaching. School became my safe haven. I talked with a few of the teachers in the mornings. I considered my art teacher like a friend. I had friends my age like... 5ish but only 2 of them I actually got along with. And today I only talk to 1.

Senior year I decided I wanted to be a social worker. That didn’t pan out. I thought that once I started college that my home situation wouldn’t follow me there but it did. I had way too much on my plate and I was stressed. I became extremely suicidal. It got to the point where I would wake up in the morning and the first thing that popped into my head was to overdose. I started slacking on my classes. I stayed in my dorm room all day except when I was in class. I barely talked to anyone.

After school ended my therapist said that I should go into a temporary counseling group. So that’s what i did. It didn’t really help that much... I started working at the job I have now. I worked here in the summers as well. One summer I was extremely depressed and it took everything in me not to stop on the train tracks on the way to work everyday. Just when I was about to give up my boss put me in a different part of work because they needed a replacement for the week for the guy who was on vacation. The guy on vacation name was Marcos. And the guy who worked with him was John.

I started working over there more often and it really helped. The guys taught me how to relax with my job and worry so much. We talked about the hardships of life. John lost 3 loved ones on 911. And Marcos always has a smile on his face. I remember I started doodling on scrap paper and they loved them. I drew Marcos once and he was so happy! He was like: “John! John! Look! She drew me!” In his Hispanic accent. Marcos gave me snacks and pop even when I said that he didn’t have to do that for me.

Well, last year on July 25 I was working in a different area for a few months. (I hadn’t really talked to Marcos and John that much because I didn’t want to get in trouble with my boss.) John came up to me and asked me if I had heard about what happened to Marcos. I said I had no clue. He responded saying that Marcos committed suicide in June on the 25th. I thought he was joking because he has a dark sense of humor. So I said, that’s not funny John. He was being completely sincere... he gave me the paper with the obituary details on it.

Marcos’ step daughter accused him of molesting her when she was between the ages of 4-8. That was a lie. She did it because he told her that he couldn’t afford to buy a car for her. So she went to the police and told that lie. The truth is that he didn’t even know her until she was 11! His arrest warrant was sent out and 3 days later Marcos went home and killed himself...

I can honestly say that if it wasn’t for Marcos and John, i wouldn’t be here today. They saved my life. And knowing that I didn’t notice that Marcos was gone for a month kills me. I had no clue what was going on during that time. After I heard the news about Marcos i shut people out. I had a new coworker who was trying to get to know me and i would just shut her out for the longest time. She said that she had to keep pushing to get to the brick wall i had put up. I couldn’t handle anymore loss. I finally let her in and we became good friends. About 6 months later she stopped showing up to work. I texted her asking what was going on. She said she had quit her job because she couldn’t work third shift anymore. She said that everyday she got to work and she would start crying. Now she is a mom as well so that’s stressful enough as is.

I started training someone new for three days. We got close and talked about a lot of different things. She missed a day of work. I asked what happened and she said that her mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor that was inoperable. The doctors gave her a few months to live. She stopped coming to work after a few days and didn’t come back.

Now I’m 21, have no clue what I want to do with my life. I want to move to Hawaii and live in a van. Like I’m being serious! It is the only thing I think about my future and don’t want to kill myself. I tried finding careers that I would want to do but that got me nowhere. So I started thinking about if I could move anywhere in the world where would I move?

By the way I’m adopted from Russia when I was 3.5 years old. The first 18months of my life I was severely neglected to the point where I was too weak to even sit up. I also had a sister who was adopted by her dad. (We have different dad’s same moms) she will be 24 in September 23. I don’t know if she is alive or not. So from the get go I had abandonment issues. My birth mom and her mom are/were (don’t know if they are alive either) alcoholics.

I’m not saying that people didn’t have it worse than me because of course some do. But the victims of a crime aren’t just the people who were robbed... the family of the robber are victims too. Feel free to share your stories!

#messedup #effedup #fuckedup #my childhood #victims #what were you doing in fourth grade

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shadesofjanuaryblues · 6 years ago

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Chiberia

Chicago.

Chicago. One of the greatest cities. THE Windy city.

Also known as Chitown, Chiberia.

I live here. Not directly in the city, but about 30 minutes out west, in the most basic middle class town. It doesn’t fall into the small-town category, but it isn’t a big town either. But basically, you go to the grocery store, and there is a 43% chance of you running into someone you know.

Well, let’s start from the beginning. I’m an immigrant.

I am pure-breed, one hundred percent Lithuanian. Born and raised. Well, I guess, “halfway” raised. I came here when I had just turned thirteen. Straight into the school-year. Eighth grade.

The middle school I went to wasn’t big. Everyone knew everyone. Obviously there were the popular, the “independent” friend groups, and of course, the not-so-popular. But I’m not here to describe the social pyramid of the American school system.

All you have to know, is that I was placed in an ESL class, which was created to help out students who have a hard time with English. This helped me gain two friends, which gave me a little comfort to go through the school day without having to cry in the bathroom during lunchtime. Hell, I was glad to have someone to borrow a notebook from.

Going back to the whole ESL thing: my family stumbled into the office of the school, merely 2 months after moving here, me having absolutely zero English skills and having not formed any because I was only surrounded by my Lithuanian speaking family, we were told that I was not going to be able to repeat 7th grade, and that I was going to be placed straight into the next school year. Of course, our pale flustered faces were accompanied by my second-hand cousin, who had attended that school as well, earlier on. Anyways, they put me in a class - for immigrants. FANTASTIC resource, don’t you say? Except the biggest problem was that my ESL teacher’s second language was not Lithuanian, it was Spanish.

Now you say, “so many people go through these classes, they learn English, like even you, you’ve been here for, what, eight years already? I can’t even tell that you have an accent!”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Heard it all before. Yeah, truthfully that class did help me. Not to learn English, but to complete my homework. That’s it. Meanwhile I was in an English class learning the same stuff as the other eighth graders were. History? A bunch of foreign words and gibberish. Science? Oh man, don’t even get me started. Even PE? CONSTANTLY hearing shit I did not understand. Like pacer test? Do you know how much nerve it took for me to ask a fellow classmate what the fuck that was and how do I do it? To literally make a fool out of myself with my “broken English”? Even math. Slopes, fractions, functions? I had not even heard of those terms when I got there, and in eighth grade they weren’t learning it anymore, they were perfecting it. So many hours spent by my kitchen table crying.

One advantage American kids had, was that they could ask their parents. I couldn’t.

Well, in other words I did, but they didn’t know.

And the purpose of this whole written rant isn’t for me to shit on Americans. Not at all. It’s for you, the reader to realize or relate to the struggle immigrants have to go through. And many other issues that I’ll cover later, but this would be the first.

Comes the age 15, I had befriended a fellow Lithuanian, a year earlier, who helped me ENORMOUSLY with my English. Not only the formal language, but the slang as well. This friendship was beneficial to us both, because at this point she had been living there for eight years, and having moved here at an earlier age, her Lithuanian was getting rusty.

Anyways, at 15 I started setting up my first bank deals with my parents. In person I would introduce myself as their daughter, the translator. I was learning new banking terms in English and Lithuanian on a weekly basis. By the phone, I talked on behalf of my mother, I mastered the art of lowering my voice and sounding more formal, knew my mother’s social security number by heart before I had even really looked at mine.

By sixteen I was handling most of my family’s bills, loans, car payments. I was answering most of their formal calls. Later that year my parents opened up a trucking company. With the help of some Lithuanian representatives, and myself, the company was running. I went over all of the contracts that were signed in terms of buying a truck, leasing a trailer, safety and all other regulations (not going to get into detail). Then, I got a temporary job at another trucking company in the summer solely to learn how to dispatch.

I had to learn how to dispatch so I could teach my mother. My mom’s English was still very weak at the time and she was scared to go and learn it herself.

In other words I had no choice. I spend my summer mornings waking up crabby as shit, going upstairs to make phone calls with cocky dudes with egos breaking through the roof. “Illinois to Alabama, one pick, one drop. Potatoes. 750 miles, rate 950”. See at that point I was taught to shoot double, then lower it to the most reasonable price. “Where’s the pickup? Loose potatoes? (Requires a paid wash afterwards, therefore rate should always be higher- waste of money and time), I’ll take it for 1500”, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHa are you out of your mind, where have you even heard of prices like this? 1000, take it or leave it”.

Approximately 70 calls a day with one successful, if it’s a good day. Sometimes I’d be on that computer for over 10 hours.

My mom learned, she started dispatching, things got a bit easier. I only had to handle the “bigger” things. Claims, detentions and other shit like that. Stressful as hell, burned out most of my patience out by the age of 17.

At seventeen, I started rebelling. I wasn’t happy with my life, but I also felt fucking invincible. By then I had earned a bit of social acknowledgement, I guess everyone saw me as the bitch I was portraying myself to be. Reckless and bad as fuck.

Street racing, going 120 on the highway to the city and back, drinking in the forest in the car. Coordinating who’s throwing a party on what weekend, sneaking out and coming home hammered, only to sleep for a few hours and go about my day like nothing ever happened.

This lasted a whole year, shit more than that. I made a lot of good and bad memories, been places I really shouldn’t have been, but I don’t regret any of it. But guess where I ended up on Halloween night the year I turned 18?

Cuffed to the fucking wall at a police station.

Wow.

Who would’ve thought, what a surprise!

I’m not quite comfortable going into detail in writing, but if you know me then you know the story, and if not, ask me about it in person, I’ll be happy to tell you.

The one thing I want to put on the table is that it wasn’t drug affiliated, and not criminal.

However, I was facing jail time. But hey, I was lucky enough to get those charges dropped, and that was the biggest lesson I could ever have.

From that point on, I went to my court dates, reevaluated my life, and started rebuilding. I had to switch schools, which introduced me to new people, ended up cutting some off, and befriending new ones. Graduated, started going to the local community college. I was working the whole time, trying to make spending money, still helping out my parents with all the financial stuff. In college I was undecided, tried out a couple different options, they didn’t seem to work out.

Not this brings up another issue I have with the way society has been built.

HIGHER EDUCATION.

I ended up picking something I felt I had an interest in, and not what my parents thought would be good for me. I enrolled in the architecture program. I was doing great, I was able to keep my focus, I wanted to improve and was eager to learn new things. Finished off the first semester. Through sweat, sleepless nights, and tears – ended up with all A’s. That significantly brought my GPA up.

By the second semester, I was ready. I was excited, because at this point we were actually starting to be able to create. This had to be my favorite part, because I consider myself relatively creative, I constantly have random ideas flowing in my head. It’s kind of like slight madness.

Anyways, when we started, my architecture program coordinator was teaching one of the classes. By that time I had already formed a professional relationship with her, she was very helpful and gave enormously valuable advice. Every project we did, I put my heart and my soul into. There weren’t any major guidelines, yet I kept being told to simplify my work. I kept being told to change it up, almost so I would blend into the other projects hanging up beside mine. I talked to my professor, she complimented my creativity, she said she hasn’t seen this much creativity and thought in a very long time, yet I still had to change it, and simplify it.

I don’t blame her, or anyone, really, but I felt myself get more and more suppressed. I felt like I had to fit into a basic box that’s been designed by someone else. I accepted it, decided to move forward. Life is all about compromise, isn’t it?

But then, in the middle of my somewhat peaceful life…

….I found out my mom was having an affair.

It’s almost like being practically the head of the family, I finally stepped a couple steps down and within a few blinks everything went to shit.

Wow, I can’t even describe you how I felt, truly broken. Like even worse, I felt like family was ripped out of my hands.

I tend to rely heavily on friends and family, and these two really are the only thing that kept me alive throughout all those years. And just like that, it’s gone.

The day I found out, I had been driving to the mall with my mom. I was putting a song on thru her phone, when a text message came in. I recognized the number, I had asked her about it roughly 4 months ago. She told me it was nothing, just some stupid guy hitting on her, and that she blocked his number. During that car ride, looking out the window I realized that all those evening yoga classes weren’t really even yoga after all. Shit hit me hard. But what I managed to blurt out was “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see this, so that we have one good last day, and I will deal with this tomorrow”.

Fast forward over the next month or so, listening to my mother’s lies, and my dad’s psychosis trying to vent to me, I lost my mind. Actually, this time. I lost it. I dropped out of school after numerous failed attempts to show up. I would park up, get my backpack and tell myself “okay I’m going to go in one minute”, on repeat, until the class ended and I would take my ass back home, shameful and full of hatred. My anxiety and depression peaked at this point. I went to therapy, refused drugs, decided to continue going to therapy until I got somewhat stable. My friends pulled me out of the hole, forcefully, very unpleasantly, but I am eternally grateful for them. Took a very long time to heal, but I healed, I got back up, and I started moving forward.

Shortly after my father found out my mom was having an affair, he switched his life around trying to win her back. I respect him for that, however it didn’t work. The house went on sale. The house got sold. Dad (who is actually my stepdad but has been raising me since I was 3 years old), was moving in with his friend. I didn’t like that friend at all, he was an alcoholic and quite inappropriate at times. Mom? Off with her new husband. Greta with her dog and cat? Choose.

Do I want to live with someone who makes me feel very uncomfortable and is quite unpredictable?

Or do I live with the man who is the reason my family, and my life has fallen apart? Whom I, in fact, fantasized about stabbing at the time?

I said fuck you to them both. Picked up more hours at my two jobs, with the help of my dad, I rented out a 500 square foot studio apartment. I worked a fuck ton, and I mean it. From one job to another in the same day, back and forth thru the week. Paid my bills, dad helped if I came up a few hundred bucks short. My diet consisted of solely the food I could get at the restaurant I was working at. If I worked there only 4 days that week, that means I was only going to be eating those 4 days, the next three, I’d get off my other job, if the time was right I would visit someone and eat what they gave me, if not I’d literally not eat. Cigarettes were expensive and they were my priority.

Slowly my dad got back on his feet, despite his deep depression that he simply wasn’t able to understand. He started out helping out more and more, at this point I was able to save a few bucks for myself. Those bucks were spent mostly on ramen and bottom shelf wine.

A while later, I got promoted at my job. I started being a manager at the restaurant I was working at, and then slowly went into accounting.

Quit my retail job, and have been relying on shifting from manager to waitress for the past 6 months.

I would go into detail about how difficult it is to be put in a higher position as a 21 year old white woman, working with middle age white men, but that’s just a buzzkill. Everyone knows “white men run this shit” and I have a HUUUGE problem with that, but it’s fine. Not going to worry about it.

So why, after all this time, this magical city that I’ve seen my best ant my worst moments in, suddenly makes me sick to my stomach? Why can’t I stand being here?

Is it a bad case of (literally all year long) January blues? Is it all the cold and the gray? Is it all the garbage on the streets?

Downtown Chicago is like a painting you hang up on your wall. “Like, wouldn’t it be cool to be there right now?”, or “okay, this is the building I’m going to live in”. Pure fantasy, baby. You drive to your minimum wage job that you hate, you see the Chicago skyline in between the clouds ahead. All it is – a reminder that you probably will not be able to live on the 92nd floor of that building, no matter how hard you try. Some of us will try our best, but we will not achieve great things. Chances are slim, so we definitely should still try, but prepare for the worst. Life is funny, it will never go the way you want it to.

I type this from my dad’s apartment, which I moved back into, with the hopes of going back to school soon.

A few more things I want to mention while I’m here:

1. Value your family, always. No matter how dirty they do you.

2. It’s okay to hold your life on pause, to fix and reevaluate, as long as you make progress after.

3. Don’t rush to move out of your parents, you will feel lonely. Like really fucking lonely.

4. Don’t max out your new credit cards if you don’t want to be paying the bill (I’m currently still working on this)

5. Yes, these new Nike’s will make you feel like a bad bitch, but you worked 10 hours for this amount of money.

6. Don’t take a fucking 5 year loan out on a car that doesn’t hold value, shit drops value by the minute. Worst thing to ever invest in.

7. Treat your friends to lunch, and make sure they feel appreciated, even if it’s Wendy’s 4 for 4.

8. Last, but not least: don’t fucking litter please.

#chicago #januaryblues #lifelesson #tumblr #immigrant #lithuania #blog #long #text #read #story #biography #anonymous

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