#should i even tag it. decisions decisions

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.

He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.

“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”

You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”

You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.

“What’d you do?” you say.

“I swung at him.”

You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”

His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”

You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.

“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.

“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”

Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.

“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”

He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.

“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”

“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”

Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.

“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”

He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters now that you’ve earned a smile from him.

“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.

“I will. You, too?”

“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”

“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.

Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.

“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.

“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”

You nod as you chew on your lip.

“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”

“Good thinking to turn them off.”

Your face creases in surprise.

“What?” he says.

“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”

He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.

It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.

“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”

You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.

“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”

“Did you tell them the truth?”

“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”

Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.

“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.

Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.

“Nobody?” you ask quietly.

He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”

“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.

·········

The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.

The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating. You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family are doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.

You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.

Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.

“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”

“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”

The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.

“We know he dealt drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”

“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”

It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.

The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.

“How close are you to Rafe?”

“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”

“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.

You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”

·········

A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.

You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.

You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.

“You good?” JJ asks.

You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.

“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”

“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”

“You think he overdosed?” you ask.

“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.

“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.

“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”

You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.

“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”

You hope that’s not true.

·········

You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.

You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.

Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.

Does his family know what a monster he is?

You have to correct yourself.

Was.

“Slow down,” you hear.

Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.

“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.

“You’re on your second drink already.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.

“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.

It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.

“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.

Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.

But the truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.

He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.

“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”

You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.

“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.

You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.

Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.

The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.

“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.

“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.

“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.

“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”

“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”

“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”

“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”

“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“

“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.

“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Charity?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.

You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.

“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”

“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”

“Even your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.

But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.

“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”

“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”

“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.

It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.

He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?

The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.

You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?

Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.

Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.

Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.

His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.

“Not so hard,” you say.

“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”

You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.

Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.

“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.

Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?

“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”

“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”

He clutches the back of his head, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”

His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.

Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”

Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.

You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.

Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.

Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.

“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

·········

The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.

He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.

You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.

You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.

“You have a minute to talk?” he says.

You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.

to be continued

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[spotsandsocks]

Teasey Tuesday/WIP Wednesday 🛏️

Tagged by @elvensorceress (so excited to see you on the dash again 😘) @tizniz @bekkachaos @jesuisici33 loved all your snippets 💜💜💜

Only one bed fic will be shared at the weekend, I think it’s called A place for you, next to me. It’s ended up as M/E rated and 23k. Here’s a little tease.

The noise warns him and as if conjured by his thoughts, the bathroom door clicks and a cloud of steam drifts out, a prelude to the appearance of Buck, wrapped in a towel and nothing else.

It’s the alcohol in his veins that makes the blood heat and rush around his body to flood his cheeks, leaving Eddie flustered in a sudden wave of heat and a pooling of something he’d won’t name low in his stomach.

Buck looks good. Far too good and right now Eddie’s more than a little unsure if he can sleep next to Buck tonight after all.

Unaware of the inner turmoil Eddie’s dealing with, Buck's expression flits from surprised to embarrassed, at this quite predictable meeting in the hotel room they’re sharing. The blush creeping down his face and lower is like a sunrise in reverse and Eddie can’t look at it.All the jumbled up emotions get more jumbled when Eddie’s forced to endure a nose wrinkle that makes his heart jump. The poor battered thing in his chest must need a break, it’s been quite the day!

And then a new wip but I’ve actually just finished is this random thing I just decided to write yesterday. Eddie finally tells Buck about what happened between him and Kim. I wrote it because I wanted Buck to know what Eddie went through, I really do think someone should know! It’s called Give me a moment it’s 2.6k and it’ll be here pretty soon.

Lifting himself up off the floor to rest on one elbow Buck studies the profile of the calm still face of his best friend. It’s the face of a man who’s resigned himself to his fate. Eddie’s flat on his back, eyes closed lying in the remnants of a life he’d tried to build for himself and his son. A life that collapsed around him after one bad decision..

“When she left I thought it was over. I was relieved, thought it would be ok but then she came back.”

If Eddie was looking at him he’d see the frown land on Buck’s face at that brand new piece of information. What does Eddie mean she came back?

Next to him, the facade falters and Eddie’s face crumples, his feelings escaping. Buck knows It’s just a weak echo of the distress he must have felt that day, made smaller, quieter by Eddie’s rigid self control.

“She came back Buck and she looked…”

It sounds like a confession, Eddie’s breath shakes on the way out and Buck’s heart beats faster. There’s something bad coming. Something he doesn’t know about.

I shall inflict tagging for this and the actual post later on my usual victims but if you want out or even to get tagged for either of these lmk!

@actualalligator @beyourownanchor6 @buddiediaz118 @becausebuckley @bi-buckrights @caroandcats @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @dr-shortsighted-owl @darkrose6578 @diazsdimples @doctorkinney @disasterbuck @diazheartsbuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @inell @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @repressedqueen @ronordmann @rainbow-nerdss @spaceprincessem @stagefoureddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @shipperqueen6 @thekristen999 @thelikesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @theotherbuckley @singitforthegirls @weewootruck @wildlife4life @bucks-daddy-issues @buffaluff @kejfeblintz

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky pt 3 - theo nott x reader

Theo doesn’t seem to care about you, and you can only lie to yourself that it doesn’t bother you for so long

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - the final part! so happy to finally write a happy ending :’) wasn’t planning on writing this until my finals were over but um here we are 🙈

tropes/warnings - tw smoking, a lil slapstick comedy ft the other slytherin boys, slight platonic hurt/comfort, angst, soft ‘smut’ (quite mild idt it warrants an 18+ tag)

word count - 3.4k

Two can play a game.

A week had passed since you submitted your Potions project, and after that one night of Theo staying up to help you, things went back to going from bad to worse. What were once paltry tiffs had now disappeared altogether. Theo attended and left lessons as if you didn’t exist. And you supposed you didn’t. At least, not to him.

Ivy worried over you, bless her. She’d noticed how listless and distracted you’d gotten, how much more prone you were to staying holed up in your room, how exhausted you seemed by the most mundane tasks. But this was something even she couldn’t help with. No one could help, you decided mournfully, resting your head against your dorm’s cool window pane. So here you were, staring out the window at 6.30 am on a Monday morning with irritated and aching eyes after a restless night of tossing and turning.

That was when you decided that the only thing there was to be done in a situation like this was to do what you did best - going head-to-head with Theodore Nott. He wasn’t the only one who could play at being emotionally avoidant, and it would be a cold day in hell before you let Theodore Nott best you in anything, including this.

And ignore him you did. You didn’t know or care if he noticed, but soon your already limited interactions became highly unabsorbing and apathetic. You barely acknowledged him in your shared classes. You matched every careless toss of his head with one of your own. As little as Theo cared, you could care even less. 

Finals came and went. The morning after your last paper Ivy came barging into your room, demanding you come for an end-of-semester gathering by the Great Lake the next day. No amount of begging or burying your head in your pillow seemed to deter her. She was determined to see you there even if she had to drag you out herself, the recluse that you had become. She finally left after you very unsportingly relented and unsuccessfully tossed a book at her head.

You were already regretting being worn down by the next morning when you were deciding what to wear. Was Theo going to be there? Not that it mattered. You weren't about to pick an outfit around a guy who may or may not be present.

You met Ivy and Katie near the castle entrance and once you started walking down to the lake, you started feeling better about your decision. The weather was surprisingly cooperative and it was perfect picnic weather, if a little windy. It was a little early, only shortly after breakfast, and the refreshments were still being set up. From the few that had already arrived, it seemed to be a rather intimate gathering of mostly familiar faces. If you were especially lucky, Theodore Nott might not make an appearance at all.

You watched a group of Slytherin boys flail and struggle to set up a folding picnic table and put a sheet over it. Enzo Berkshire had flopped onto the table to stop the sheet from flying off while the table groaned underneath his weight. Draco Malfoy was crossly telling him off and trying to get him to stand while Mattheo Riddle stood a little to the side, still frowning over the table's instructions. Draco had now moved onto threats when there was a terrible creaking sound and the table collapsed under Enzo.

"I was just about to say," Matheo started offhandedly, while Enzo moaned pitifully, "I don't think we put the table together right."

"I told you we should have waited for Theo."

Speak of the devil.

“Ladies,” Theo drawled from behind, in his appealingly lazy accent. You turned to see Theodore in a relaxed button-down folded at the elbow, wearing a simple but likely designer pair of black sunglasses, holding a red solo cup. You instinctively glanced at his tanned forearms before snapping your gaze back to his face. Did he notice? It was hard to tell with the sunglasses.

“Hi, Theo,” Ivy said awkwardly when you stubbornly refused to respond. “What's that you got there?”

"Punch. Enzo had me taste test it."

"Oh. Is it good?"

He gave a wry smile. You wanted to roll your eyes. You had no patience to tolerate his irritating posh affectations.

"A little strong for my taste, but it'll do."

"Have you seen Ivan?"

He waved his hand carelessly. “He’s…around.” He turned, peering in the distance. “Right. There he is, by the steps. He’s bringing the drinks.”

“I’ll go help him!” Before you could reel Ivy back in and threaten her to stay with you, she was already halfway down the path, heading straight for her boyfriend. You scowled, your impassive mask shattering. You turned back to see Theo grinning at you with his stupidly mysterious sunglasses and you shot him a dirty look. 

“Nice weather we’re having, hm?”

You schooled your features and shrugged noncommittally. The silence stretched unbearably between the two of you. Theo vaguely gestured to the boys with his cup.

“I should help them with the table."

You stayed tight-lipped, refusing to give in to the sense of camaraderie he seemed to be trying to foster with you. After all, you weren't friends. He made sure of that.

As he set his cup down and started looking over the instructions with Mattheo, Ivy returned, drinks and Ivan in tow.

“Punch?”

You raised your eyebrows. Even from a distance, the bowl reeked of booze. Still, you accepted a cup, downing it even as your eyes watered. You pulled a face.

“Merlin, that’s awful. Pour me another.”

You ended up sitting in a cluster of lawn chairs around a picnic blanket with Ivy, Katie and some other girls in your year. You were all giddily tipsy and in very silly moods, gossiping and swapping terrible first date stories.

The drunker and drunker you got, the harder it was to pull your eyes away from Theo. After all, as your inhibitions dissolved, what was there to stop you from glaring a hole into his skull?

Not that he noticed. He was sitting some distance away with his own friends, examining the bottom of his red Solo cup disinterestedly. The other Slytherin boys were absorbed in a spirited game of Exploding Snap. In the unassuming midday sun creeping up on them, he was a refreshing sight, sleek and cool in ways mere mortals could only dream of wishing for.

You scoffed under your breath. What, were his childhood friends too boring for him? Was that it? Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? You had half a mind to strip naked and run into the lake. Maybe that would finally be captivating enough for the oh-so-hard-to-impress Theodore Nott. 

How many other girls did he help write essays for late into the night, letting them doze, holding their hand? You shook yourself. He never held your hand. He helped you with your project, brought you breakfast, and that was it. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on the back of your hand. Whatever possessed you to think he held your hand?

The sky had gotten a little cloudy. Theo pulled off his sunglasses, blinking, and cast his eyes around, looking for a place to put them. Finally, he settled on hooking them on the open collar of his shirt and looked rather pleased with himself. It was almost endearing.

Your gut told you to avert your gaze, but you didn't, and the next second his gaze was on you. For the first time in weeks, his eyes met yours, intense and unforgiving. You told yourself it was just his gaunt complexion and bruise-like eyebags, but that didn’t stop your throat from seizing with some inexplicable want. Even when he moved away to rejoin his friends, your skin tingled; your body positively thrummed with it. Any hope of playing at sanity was out the window at this point. No, you just had to accept that the two of you would always be unfinished business.

But that was it - he wasn’t playing at this like you were. This was all a pretence for you; the unaffected stares, the nonchalant nods, the afterthought smiles. This was all just you pretending you weren’t watching his every move. Pretending your attention wouldn’t stay fixed on him in a room full of burning bodies.

But he wasn’t pretending. Not for one second.

All of a sudden, you felt queasy. You were going to be sick.

"Y/N?" Ivy was saying, looking concerned as you unsteadily got to your feet. You could feel the back of your neck prickling with Theo still watching you.

"I'm - I'm fine," you slurred, fanning yourself weakly. "Stay - I'm okay. Just...s'hot. Need to -" 

You put your cup down somewhere, stumbling back to the castle as fast as you could, your head spinning as the ground wobbled dangerously under you. You weren't sure how but you somehow made it to your dorm, flung open the bathroom door and reached the toilet just as your stomach started emptying its contents. 

You vaguely registered that you had never been this drunk - it felt like you were slipping in and out of consciousness. You were only distantly aware of a familiar pair of hands holding your hair back, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you heaved. It was a cathartic kind of release, a purging of all the toxic anxiety that had been festering inside of you. And just like that, a dam broke. You started crying, sobbing like the world was ending, slumped against your best friend.

“Oh, Y/N…”

“I don’t understand,” you choked out, leaning your forehead against the tiled bathroom wall. “Why doesn’t he like me anymore? Why does he h-hate me?”

Ivy delicately smoothed some of your unruly hair down. “He doesn’t hate you, honey.”

“I’m not a k-kid, Ivy," you hiccuped. "You don’t have to lie to protect my feelings.”

Ivy hugged you close as you sniffled. “I’m going to kill that asshole if Ivan doesn’t beat me to it.”

“No,” you said in a shaky voice, gingerly sitting up. “Promise me you won’t tell Ivan.”

“Y/N - “

“They’re friends! I don’t want to spoil that for him.”

“Trust me, if he knew what Theo was doing, he wouldn’t be feeling all that friendly.”

“Don’t, Ivy,” you pleaded. “This is just…it’s just between us. I’m fine, I swear.”

Ivy looked highly unconvinced. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“Look, at least give me a week to work through this on my own, alright? Then you can sic your boyfriend on Nott.”

“You’ve already had your week. Weeks, in fact.”

“Ivy.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

You felt a lot more sober after throwing up. But you still weren't feeling up to returning to the party, so once you finally managed to shake Ivy off, you wandered the deserted halls of Hogwarts. Just like that one evening lifetimes ago, when Mattheo had insinuated Theo might have a thing for you in the library, you ended up at the Astronomy Tower.

It was peaceful. You could see why Theo liked to come up here to think. You looked up as you heard a scuffling sound from behind one of the pillars, near one of the stone arch windowsills. You walked over to find Theo sitting there, smoking, his long legs barely fitting across the length of the window. He didn't expect to see you either, if the way the cigarette was dangling from his lips was any indication.

“Put that out.”

It was the first thing you had said to him in weeks. You felt almost as surprised as he looked. He started, as if he had forgotten about the cigarette, and took another puff.

“I said,” you started again, half-heartedly raising your voice, “put that out.”

It was weak and unsurprisingly ineffective. If Theo picked up on what it truly was, a plea for normalcy, he didn’t let on.

Your already thin patience snapped. You stalked over, stealing the cigarette from his lax fingers. What you weren't expecting was Theo's fingers closing around your other wrist and firmly pulling you down to press his mouth hard against yours. It was a clumsy mess of teeth and tongues as you ungracefully reached for his arms to steady yourself. His grip lessened when he got the inkling you weren't about to pull away and sock him in the jaw. His hands drifted to your waist as the two of you fumbled for a more proper kiss. You could taste the lingering salt of the cigarette and your senses felt overwhelmed by the distinct feel of Theodore Nott.

“Tesoro -“ he wheezed, twisting away from where your hand had dropped to his bicep, the smouldering cigarette having singed through his shirt.

“Shit, sorry. How do you -?”

Theo plucked the cigarette from your hand and dropped it on the floor, grinding it with the heel of his shoe. He looked up to where you were still hovering above him before pulling you down into his lap by your hips. He grabbed your wrists, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you had to bite back a smile over how adorably particular he was.

“Telling me where to place my hands? And I thought I was the bossy one.”

Theo quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm just sick of waiting." He tipped his head back against the rough stone wall. "And...wanting."

You smoothed a thumb across his collarbone, not missing the way he shivered under your touch. “So what do you want, Nott?”

He tipped you forward, kissing you much more properly this time. You didn't bother pulling much away as you broke apart, whispering with your faces inches away.

“We're actually doing this.”

“Seems so.”

He cupped your face, swiping a thumb under your eyes as his expression flickered.

“Were you…crying?”

You sniffed, dragging his hand off your face, and looking away. "Just - allergies."

Theo blinked, watching your face with a stunned (and slightly dumb) expression as if you hadn't said anything.

“But you never cry.”

You gave a bitter smile. “Congratulations, Nott. You’re officially the first person to ever reduce me to tears.” You desperately hoped he would drop the subject. Just talking about it was enough to make you want to start sobbing again.

"Did someone say something to you? I swear I - it's not because of me, is it?"

Your face crumpling was the only confirmation he needed. “It was like you - I don’t know. Like you hated me, or something.”

Theo captured your hands in his own where they had slid down to his chest. “I….hate you?”

“Or something. Probably the something.”

“But - why? How? If anything, I’d say you hated me.”

Your lips parted as your brow furrowed. “What gave you that idea?”

“What gave me the - I don’t know, all the scowling? The glaring? The snide remarks? The bodily harm?”

You flushed at the memory of the Potions storeroom incident. You could kind of see his point. “That was one time.”

“You owe me new pants, by the way. New pants and a new di-“

You muffled his rant with a kiss and instantly felt him relax beneath you, the tension and annoyance draining from his limbs as he moulded your body to fit more perfectly against his. So eager, so insistent, so different from the past couple of weeks. 

“I don’t know," you started once you pulled away. "This felt worse than hate. It felt like…like you couldn’t even be bothered to hate me." You swallowed hard, eyes fixed on where you were fidgeting with the edge of his shirt's collar. "As if that was how little you thought of me.”

"Mia cara," he sighed, almost dejectedly. "Small is the last thing I think of you." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, searching for the right words.

“I’m not good at expressing…fondness.”

“No. You don’t say.”

He wet his lips. You could see the smile he was holding back.

“I’m not good at being honest or direct. Everything - my mind, it’s a mess, it’s always about what I want, and how to get what I want, I never - I never meant to make you feel that way."

Maybe it was still all part of some elaborate scam. But sitting there with the rough stone arch digging into your sensitive skin, the distant scent of holding Theo's face in your hands like he was moonlight, you believed him. You didn't even have to try. You just did.

“I’m not used to playing the part of the fool, bella. But when I see you smile, or read, or fiddle with your hair…" He reached out to free the lock of hair you were nervously tugging on, "...I never feel more foolish.”

"I don't think I've ever hated you either, for the record," you said, smoothing out his shirt where you had crumpled it in your fists. "I might have thought I did, but..." you trailed off, looking into his mesmerisingly blue eyes. No, you decided softly, you never could hate the boy.

"I never thought anything could come of us. You were - you are - so brilliant. You're on the road to brilliant things. I was only going to get in the way. And...I don't think I could live with myself if I did." He glanced up and, seeing the crestfallen look on your face, hastily amended his statement.

"That, and you had no patience for pretty boys.”

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I have no patience for you, either.”

Theo grinned, shifting you up his lap, as if you could never be close enough to him. He looked so carefree you couldn’t hold back a small smile of your own. “You keep me so humble.”

“I try.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tracing burning expanses of skin, staring at each other like you could never get your fill. You’d occasionally press soft kisses down his neck and jaw while his hands would drift up your ribcage or down your thighs. Both of you moved at an unhurried pace, because now you had all the time in the world to have and hold each other.

“It’s getting late,” you murmured, hours later, now tucked into Theo’s side as you lightly traced shapes on his chest. It was pleasantly warm and given the late hour, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier. When he didn't respond, you lifted your head.

Beneath you, Theo breathed deeply and evenly, looking half-asleep. You rolled your eyes and gave him a hard jab in the ribs.

“Hey. Nott.”

Theo grunted, stirring, swatting your hand away. You grinned to yourself - annoying Theo would never lose its appeal. Eyes still closed, his hand haphazardly searched for you to once again pull you against him. You ignored his efforts, deliberately unhelpful.

“You need to pick another name, y’know. This whole last-name business isn’t going to fly as my girlfriend.”

You felt yourself unreasonably perk up over his words. “Your girlfriend? Me?”

He cracked an eye open. “I thought the exclusivity thing was obvious. You're a serial monogamist.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

Theo groaned, too tired to keep up with you. He rolled you onto your back and propped himself up with a forearm. You giggled softly, flustered by the heat in his gaze.

“Then I guess you’re lucky I like kissing you the best, amore.”

He dropped his head, and you got the distinct impression you could never tire of the feel of his hands and lips on you. 

“What were you saying before?” Theo inquired, while his hands continued their distracting exploration under your clothes.

“It’s late.”

“Right.”

“You have Charms right after breakfast. We should,” your breath hitched, “um, go to bed.”

Theo grumbled something in the crook of your neck, sending the most delicious vibrations down your spine.

"Fine," you sighed, encircling your arms around his neck. "Five more minutes."

He barely made it in time for Charms the next morning.

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

Summary: What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Chunguk for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?

Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hosuk.

🔞Age restrictions: 18+

👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: get

📑Number of words: ❓

📕 Number of part: 1/?

🖇️Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, ex-relationships, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character. Tags will be added as the story is written.

👩🏼‍💻From the author: I was supposed to write a completely different story, but my muse disappeared. So I wrote this story to replace my previous one for some reason. I had the idea for a long time and I just finished the first part, which I couldn't finish for more than 7 months. I wonder what will come of this story. The Jungkook I created here is not like himself at all, but maybe he could have been. So who likes to read fanfiction about friends who become lovers then please give this story a lot of love.

⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

Part 1. These fucking rules

The clock read 10 am. You left your room to satisfy the hunger that was making your stomach cramp. You went to the refrigerator and opened it. There was nothing in it but eggs and milk.

Yesterday you spent the whole day at the university and came home late at night. You had lunch in the campus cafeteria and didn't eat anything else. So your hunger was intense. You remember reminding Jungkook, your best friend with whom you were roommates, several times that it was his turn to buy the groceries for the week. You even wrote him a list because you knew for sure that he wouldn't buy everything he needed, and it wasn't a good idea to eat chips and beer.

Obviously, Jungkook didn't do what he was supposed to. The result was an empty refrigerator. Jungkook must have had more important things to do than buy groceries. Your stomach made a high-pitched growl. You felt your anger grow in direct proportion to your hunger. You slammed the refrigerator door shut.

Your eyes fell on the couch. Clothes were scattered around and on the couch. You raised your eyebrows and walked toward the clothes. You were seething with anger, not only did this careless guy not do what he was supposed to, but he was also leaving a mess behind. You were going to talk to Jungkook about how he was breaking the rules you had made on the first day you lived together.

It was Jungkook's idea. You decided to move in together because the apartment you were living in was too expensive. You were a student on a scholarship and could barely make ends meet, and only a part-time job at a convenience store allowed you to pay your rent. But you had to quit that job because you started to fail in your studies. The university where you were studying was supposed to give you a good profession, and you wanted to help your parents, who lived in a small town near Seoul and made soy sauce. They put a lot of love into you and did everything they could to give you a decent profession and to make you feel good about yourself. That's why studying well was a big priority for you.

And then one hard evening, when Jungkook came to your place for a beer, you complained to him about how unfair life was. He suggested that you move in with him and pay only for food and utilities. At the time, you thought he was joking or had had too much beer, but it turned out he was very serious. That's how you started living together.

But as it turned out, living with Jungkook was quite a challenge. He didn't keep the house very clean and liked to bring girls over almost every night. At first, you put up with it, of course, feeling a little irritated by it. But when you were trying hard to study and staying up late at night, it was difficult to learn the material by listening to the moans in Jungkook's room. So you decided that in order not to interfere with each other's lives, you needed rules.

You suggested some rules to Jungkook, and he kindly agreed to them. But he almost never wanted to follow them, so you often had small arguments about them.

It happened this morning, too, when Jungkook didn't buy any groceries so you will have to go the convenience store near your house to buy some food. You were in a terrible mood. But you were even more angry when you found Jungkook's clothes and women's things scattered around. You stared at the door of his room as you realized that he had brought another girl over that night.

With your eyebrows raised, you went to the kitchen and fried an egg for yourself. You flatly refused to go to the store because you knew that if you did, you would definitely buy food for Jungkook. And you wanted to teach him a lesson.

You were sitting at the table eating an egg when Jungkook's bedroom door opened. A sleepy Jungkook came out of it. He didn't have a shirt on, just the shorts he often wore at home. His hair was sticking out in all directions and his lips were pouty. You felt make muddle inside. And you felt like this every time Jungkook was half-naked. Even though he was your best friend, you couldn't help but think that he was a man, and a pretty good-looking one at that. You quickly gave him a glare full of lightning and continued to click the phone.

Jungkook noticed you and purred in satisfaction and headed in your direction. He came up behind you and bent down to look at your phone.

"Good morning," you heard next to your ear. Jungkook's voice was low and deep because he had just woken up.

"Morning!" you said dryly and continued to read the group chat with your classmates. Jungkook immediately realized that you were in a bad mood. He looked at you for a few long seconds and decided to start a conversation with you again.

"Did you fry the eggs? Where's my portion?" - He asked. You continued to ignore your friend.

Jungkook was about to ask you why you weren't talking to him when his bedroom door opened. The girl with whom Jungkook spent the night came out. You and Jungkook looked at her. She had the typical appearance of the girls he usually brought home. Slender, not tall, and with long black hair. Of course her figure was perfect.

She was completely Jungkook's type. You were her absolute opposite. You thought that Jungkook would never like you. Every time you met another girl that your friend brought home, you compared yourself to them for some reason. You were tall, but certainly shorter than him, and you had dark blond hair. Your figure was beautiful, but you definitely weighed more than 60 kilograms.

Jungkook's this night passion was standing in only her underwear. She rubbed her eyes and when she noticed you and your friend looked at her, she was visibly embarrassed.

"Uh, good morning." - She said quietly.

"Good morning!" you mumbled. You felt uncomfortable. Irritation threatened to burst out of you. You suddenly wanted to leave. You stood up abruptly, almost hitting Jungkook who was hovering over you. You quickly put your leftover food in the sink and hurried to your bedroom.

When you got into your room, you slammed the door and fell onto your bed. The morning did not start well. You were angry at Jungkook for not following the rules you had set up with him. You had always been good at following them, but your friend didn't seem to care about them. You had to do something about it. You decided to talk to Jungkook and remind him that you two had made those damn rules and that if he didn't follow them, you would have to find another place to live. Of course you didn't want to move away from him. It was convenient and beneficial for you to live with Jungkook in a way. But the irony was that by saving money you were paying with your nerves.

It was about half an hour after you heard the door slam, which could mean that Jungkook's girlfriend had left. You needed to take a shower because you had go to the grocery store to buy food. So after waiting about 10 minutes, you took all the things you needed and left the room.

Your gaze quickly glanced around the living room and kitchen. Jungkook was nowhere to be found. The apartment was quite quiet. You thought that he had gone to sleep in his room or might have gone out. You felt irritated again. But maybe it was for the best that he was gone. You walked to the bathroom door and was about to open it when it opened and your eyes met big black eyes.

Jungkook's hair was damp, and he was shirtless and wearing shorts. You shivered. You felt the heat spreading through your body. You continued to stare at each other for no more than a second, but it felt like an eternity.

"Do you want to take a shower?" Asked Jungkook, still standing in the aisle. "I thought you were sleeping".

"Obviously, I want to take a shower!" You replied dryly, turning away from Jungkook. You didn't notice his eyebrows jump up.

"What's wrong Y/N? Why are you so angry this morning?" - Jungkook asked as he approached you.

"Are you seriously asking me why I'm angry?" - You turned to Jungkook, trying not to look at his beautiful body.

"I'm asking because I don't understand what's going on? Did I do something wrong?" - You stared at your friend in shock. How can he ask you if he did something wrong when he does it all the time?

"Just tell me, are you really stupid or are you pretending to be?" - You clutched the T-shirt in your hand. Jungkook laughed at your words. Does he think it's funny?

"I'm not a mind reader, baby. So you'd better come right out and say it." - Jungkook's calling you "baby" made you even more angry. Usually you liked this affectionate nickname, but not on this terrible morning.

"What am I supposed to say to you, ha-Jeon? I'm like a fucking parrot to you all the time, and you don't do anything I tell you!" You wanted to talk to Jungkook in a calmer manner, but since you were an emotional person, it was hard to contain the anger that had long been in you. Your heart was pounding and your ears were ringing. You didn't understand why you were angry, but the more often Jungkook broke the rules and your personal comfort, the angrier you became. You'd been studying a lot lately, and the exam was about to start. Your tension and fatigue were making themselves felt, and Jungkook's behavior wasn't helping your situation.

"Y/N calm down. Are you mad at me for not buying the groceries?" - You didn't answer thinking "Hallelujah you guessed it".

"I really wanted to do it, but Jimin called and I went to his place, and then he dragged me to the club." - You continued to drill Jungkook with a menacing stare and he felt more and more guilty.

"Of course, how can you say no to Jimin and not pick up another beauty to take her to bed!" - You was indignant.

"Oh come on, Y/N are you mad at me for bringing a girl again?" - Jungkook asked.

"No, genius." - You snapped. "I'm mad because you forgot about the fucking rules again."

"Rules?" - Jungkook sighed. "You're doing this again?"

"Again?" you repeated his words quietly. Jungkook didn't want to argue anymore and walked past you. The scent of Jungkook's shower gel that you loved so much filled your nostrils. You gave your friend a shocked look.

"Jungkook, we created those rules for a reason, so that we don't violate each other's boundaries." - You explained, standing behind your friend as he gathered his scattered belongings near the couch.

"We weren't too loud!" - Jungkook tried to make excuses, but he sounded annoyed.

"It's not about being loud or quiet. You brought a girl home again, even though we agreed that we wouldn't bring partners. You didn't buy the groceries, even though I reminded you three times yesterday to do so. You constantly leave things scattered around, and I only go and clean up after you." - You could not stand it.

"Then don't clean it up, I didn't ask you to!" - Jungkook snorted.

"Are you serious now, Jeon?" - You laughed with a bit of hysteria. "We've been living together for almost three months now and you haven't followed a single rule, even though you promised you would every time!"

"I tried." - Jungkook admitted. "But these rules are..." He paused to find the right word. "All I'm saying is that I want to do whatever I want in my house!" - Jungkook turned to you and you, catching the look in his big deer eyes, stared at him. For a few unsuccessful seconds, you tried to figure out how to react to his words, but all you felt was anger mixed with guilt. It was your idea to create these rules, but he agreed to them, why didn't he tell you something was wrong?

"But... I mean, yes, it's your house and you can do whatever you want, but we agreed together that it would be more convenient for us!" - You said in despair.

"So let's just forget these stupid rules." - Jungkook said. He dropped the things he was clean up. All you could hear was the sound of your own heart in your ears. You're going to have to find a new place to live. Jungkook is not comfortable living with you. You can't continue to study normally and live in a bachelor's house without food and with the prospect of seeing a new face every morning of the girl your friend brought over. You exhaled loudly and closed your eyes for a moment.

"Well..." - You stuttered. "If you're not comfortable living like this, I'll have to find another place to live." - Jungkook stiffened. His eyebrows reflexively drew together, showing his face in a state of deep misunderstanding of what you said.

"What do you mean?" - He said sharply. "Why would you want to find another home?" - You looked at Jungkook and saw him getting angry at the whole situation. Your heart was beating like crazy, and anger was in almost every cell of your body. But the thoughts running through your head made you feel guilty. You wanted to make life easier for both of you when you made up these rules, but it seems like Jungkook had a hard time following them. He was used to living a certain way of life, but when you moved in with him, all of his usual things became forbidden or restricted. Knowing his freedom-loving nature, you understood why he resisted. But he agreed, he had the opportunity to add his own rules or offer something of his own. He just agreed, and that's what annoyed you the most right now. He was deliberately breaking the rules even though he knew how you would react.

Jungkook walked over to you. He stopped right next to you. You were only one step away. You did not take your eyes off him and tried to look only into his eyes. The fact that Jungkook was not wearing a shirt did not make your condition any easier. You always felt uncomfortable when he was naked.

"Y/N, let's calm down. You don't have to look for another home. You can stay with me. Let's just live without any of these stupid rules. Just together. As friends." - Jungkook wanted to touch you, but you took a step back.

"How do you envision that, Jeon?" - You huffed. "We're going to live without food in the fridge, you're going to bring a new chick home every night and I'm going to greet her cheerfully every morning. We'll live in an apartment where things are scattered and sometimes we'll have to clean them up. Or maybe we'll have fun when I bring my boyfriend here and he fuck me so you can hear my moans. Or bring friends from the university and sit here until the morning drinking beer or soju. Make life chaotic and have fun." - You almost burst into tears. Jungkook stared at you in confusion and surprise.

The words about your moans echoed in his head. "She's bringing her boyfriend? Does she have a boyfriend?" - Jungkook thought.

"Listen, Jungkook. I can't live like this. I am sincerely grateful to you for taking me in. But we are not a contractual marriage couple. I don't want to follow you around and clean up the mess you make. If we live together, we have to respect each other's boundaries. That's why those added rules were invented. But if you're not comfortable with them because I want you to, then I really need to move out." - You finally finished your monologue and exhaled heavily. Jungkook was silent for a few more seconds and then laughed to your surprise. Quietly and almost mockingly. Your face was again distorted by anger.

"Oh my God, you just gave me a good one." - Jungkook chuckled. "You've been holding it all in for so long. You should have told me earlier." - You thought you were going to strangle him. This arrogant half-naked man who is supposed to be your best friend.

"You think this is funny? I..." - You wanted to finally tell Jungkook what you thought of him, but he suddenly grabbed you in a hug. Without the possibility for you to move at all. He pinned you down so that your arms were pinned at your sides. You struggled in his metal grip, but to no avail. The struggle didn't last long, just a couple of minutes, and you didn't have the strength for more. You calmed down just as Jungkook leaned against the crook of your neck. His face was completely lost in your hair. You stood there for a few moments until you felt the vibration of his voice on your neck.

"Are you calm?" - You could feel your friend's breath leaving a trail on your neck, passing through your hair. "You're like that fire, baby." - You wanted to start pulling away again, but Jungkook held you tight, almost preventing you from breathing properly. "I'm so sorry." - He said. "I'm an asshole for not thinking about you." - Jungkook looked up, straightening up, and saw you almost holding back tears. He was hurt that he had brought you to this state.

"Please don't cry because of me, I'll follow your rules. And this time for sure." - He smiled lightly. "Just please don't go anywhere." - The tear you'd been holding back for so long ran down your cheek. Jungkook immediately wiped it away, not wanting to see you cry.

"I'm sorry, I was wrong too. I should have talked to you calmly instead of getting angry and yelling at you. We should have talked about it normally." - And you finally burst into tears. Jungkook was embarrassed and held you close again.

"It's okay, baby. I deserved you to yell at me." - These words made you cry even more. "Hey, don't cry, it's okay. We've worked it out. Please don't do this, I feel like a fool for making you cry." - You wanted to calm down, but the emotions you had been holding in for so long finally broke free. You had to cry out all the anger that had been building up inside you.

Jungkook picked you up in his arms and walked over to the couch where things had been scattered until recently. He still held you and after that seat down with you on his knees. You were crying so much that you didn't realize where you were sitting. He comforted you by stroking your back.

It took some time for you to calm down. You were hardly crying anymore, just sobbing slightly. Jungkook looked down at your crying face.

"Your eyes are red now." - You met his big black eyes. And suddenly you realized that he was holding you in his arms. One of his arms was around your waist and the other one was around your legs. You felt pressed against his naked torso. Only your T-shirt separated your bodies. For a moment, you thought, "It was interesting to feel his body by my own." You blushed at the intimate thought and quickly forced it away.

"Hey, are you okay?" - Jungkook asked you, looking at your face again. You tried to laugh.

"I'm fine." - You said in a tortured voice. You felt Jungkook's body relax.

"I'm glad to hear that." - You continued to sit there, but you seemed to be the only one who felt awkward. Because Jungkook didn't want to let go of you. He kept stroking you, running his arm around your waist. You didn't say anything. You thought about what to say. Or should you just say that you had to go to the shower, because that's why you left the room. Jungkook leaned against your shoulder and said with a desperate voice.

"Let's not fight anymore over these damn rules." - Begged Jungkook. All you could manage was a soft "let's." You wanted to say it more firmly, but your state didn't allow it.

"Y/N," - Jungkook called to you gently. "Let's not fight at all. I hate it when we fight!" - He confessed. You hated fighting too. Before you moved in with Jungkook, you hardly ever fought at all.

"I want everything to be fine with us. But it doesn't depend on me alone. I'm ready to compromise and solve all the problems at once." - You said.

"Then we have a deal?" - Jungkook held out his hands to you, extending his little finger and thumb. You smiled and intertwined your little finger with his and touched his thumb to seal your truce.

For a moment you sat there in silence and hugged each other. You wanted to tell Jungkook to let you go. But he was in no hurry. He seemed to like you sitting on his lap, or he was pretty sure you weren't going anywhere.

"God, we fought like we were married," - Jungkook said, laughing. You tapped him on the shoulder. What is he talking about?

"Don't be silly, Jeon. We were arguing like friends who just moved in together." - You said. Jungkook's face turned sly.

"You're be like that: I can't live like this. I'm going to leave you. I can't clean up after you all the time." - Jungkook laughed. His soft laugh both irritated and attracted you. "Doesn't that sound like something a wife would say to her husband?"

"If the world goes to destroyed and I'm told that I have to become your wife to save it, the world will die." - You replied sarcastically. Jungkook stopped laughing for a moment and looked at you with a challenge.

"No way!" - He didn't believe it. "You would love to marry me. I know you dream about me every night." - You were flustered by his words and almost boiling at the same time.

"Maybe in your dreams, Jeon. I think you're the one who dreams about me every night, or imagines my face when you look at that girl you're fucking." - You said in a triumphant voice as you poked your finger into Jungkook's bare chest.

"How did you know about that?" - Jungkook asked in a serious tone. "I confessed to you when I was drunk?!" You gasped at what you heard. You wanted to say something. Jungkook's seriousness made you believe that your joke was true. But your guess was shattered by your best friend's mocking laugh.

"You should see your face now!" - He said, almost laughing. You hit him again, but this time harder, but it seemed like it didn't matter to Jungkook. You tried to get up from his lap, but your attempt was unsuccessful, as your friend's strong arms pinned you down.

"You're a real ass. Let me go, I need to take a shower."

"I haven't finished talking to you yet." - Jungkook said in a purring tone. You tried to pull away.

"For example, I'm done talking to you. So go put some clothes on and go get some groceries, we need to make lunch." - You said.

"Yes, I'll go to the store right now. I'll even make us lunch, but you have to answer some questions for me." - Jungkook agreed and offered a deal.

You thought for a second, studying his sly look as it wandered across your face. He's definitely going to ask you something personal. What was he up to?

"And dinner, too, if you want to hear the answers to your questions." - You've outplayed your best friend. You finally stopped wriggling and sat down with your arms crossed over your chest. Jungkook didn't mind your conditions and smiled smugly.

"Deal." - He cleared his throat. "You said something today while we were fighting. You haven't told me anything lately." - You glanced over at Jungkook, who was obviously searching for words to ask you something. You wanted to laugh because it's usually not a big deal for Jungkook to ask you anything. And this applies to any topic. "Did you get a boyfriend?" - He finally asked. His eyes ran over your face, carefully studying your expression. He wanted to know if it was true, if you had found someone to fuck you so that he could hear your moans.

You expected to hear any question, but not this one. What makes him think you have a boyfriend? "You said something today while we were fighting."Jungkook's words echoed in your head. A puzzle formed in your head and you laughed.

"Oh my God, is that all you remember from what I said?" - You laughed. Jungkook looked at you, waiting for an answer. Of course, that wasn't the only thing he remembered. He also remembers how you said you were going to moan. "I don't have a boyfriend. Look at me. It's not physically possible with my study schedule." - You glanced over at Jungkook. He seemed... pleased? "I said it as a possible scenario." - Jungkook couldn't hide the relief he felt. He sniffed his nose out of old habit and asked another question.

"Good. Then I have one more question, and then I'll let you go. Have you ever had sex?" - You instantly blushed. Who even asks that question so directly? It's so...so...You seem to have forgotten how to think and speak. How you were supposed to answer questions.

It so happens that you haven't had sex. You didn't even date anyone. Studying took up all your free time, both at school and at university. The guys who met you almost immediately disappeared when they saw what a nerd you were. But you didn't care about those idiots because you didn't have time to meet anyone. Your friends and your studies were enough for you. It's not that you didn't think about getting a boyfriend. You're almost 20, but don't you have to study and become successful first, and then look for someone to date and have sex with?

Living with a friend who was a man under the same roof and who brought girls almost every night, and hearing those fucking moans made you think for a moment that you too want to feel hugged, kissed and made to feel so good that you moaned loudly. But you stopped yourself every time. First of all, you don't have time, and secondly, who would want to date a girl who only allows books in her bed?

You looked away from Jungkook and stepped your hands into your lap. Should you answer him or not? Will he mock me? Let him try and make me feel bad for him.

You were brought out of your thoughts by your friend's voice.

"Baby? I asked you something!" - He insisted.

"Why do you want to know that?" - Turning and meeting Jungkook's gaze, you said.

"Just tell me. I want to know." - He said firmly. Your heart started to race again. The blood was pounding in your ears. Why should you be worried? He's just your best friend. You're always honest with him. You know a lot about him because Jungkook likes to brag about his intimate accomplishments.

"No." - You said. "I didn't!" - Something strange is happening between you two today. Jungkook is acting strange. Even though he seems to be the same Jungkook, why can't you stop thinking about how he's making you feel.

Jungkook smiled lightly. "I thought so." - That was all he said. You wanted to know why he asked you that, but he let go of you, urging you to get up. He stood up after you and looked down at you from the height of his height. You had to tilt your head a little to look at his face.

"What would you like for lunch and dinner?" - Jungkook asked before you could ask your question. You felt a little embarrassed and answered: "Chajamyeon and Samgyopsal."

"I'll be back soon, you go take a shower." - Your friend said, picking up his clothes that he had thrown around yesterday. A moment later, Jungkook's broad, naked back disappeared behind his bedroom door.

[lynxxpaw]

can we get some narilamb pretty please? 🥺

Anytime.

[neymiiie]

I just want to see him again.

[dootznbootz]

Do y'all ever think about how it's possible that Zeus' first verse in Thunder Bringer is about Penelope and his second is about Odysseus?

She's a "Damsel in Distress" (She's cool af, she just needs some help and misses her idiot), the suitors are prideful and hope to do what Zeus is singing about to her. Pressuring her to choose. Her "true nature" is revealed when her trickery with the shroud is found out .

The 2nd Verse about how Zeus is also the God of Justice and punishing them for the crew's crime of slaying the cattle. Odysseus saves himself to see Penelope again, meaning his crew/people will die. They died for touching Helios' cattle. Odysseus also saves himself AND Helps Penelope by killing all the suitors for their crime of flirting with/bothering Penelope and making her cry, while also bullying and eventually planning to kill his son. Many of Ithaca's men are killed for their pride too. Thinking that they're worthy of Penelope when Nobody is. Flirt with the Wife, you get the knife.

Penelope and Odysseus DO take each others' suffering away when they reunite as well. 🥹

[backpackingspace]

Love that it's Canon that odysseus built secret passage ways into his house and then never fucking told anybody about them (except penelope of course)

[arsenicflame]

i Do Not Trust people who make Mary the bad guy in their stories when the show went out of its way to specifically show us how she was suffering just as much as stede was in their marriage and that shes, yknow, a good person

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. ��Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[lunarharp]

Very important conferences.

[magnusbae]

Never in my life did I watch something quite as ridiculous, pointless, without any coherent sense of direction or self as The Acolyte. Start to finish it created its own 'threats' and 'issues' to artificially stimulate a plot that never had a single point to be made. What on earth were they thinking? Nothing in this series follows its own internal logic. The character motivations are all over the place and often simply contradict themselves within the same episode. The intrigue and the foreshadowing all come to a null when the reveals literally are not in par with what was implied and just generally--- what on earth? You cannot say I did not come open minded. Watched all the episodes, given it grace and opportunity time and time again to prove itself but--- no, no it's actually just the worst tv show I've ever seen, and that's a serious claim as I watched quite a few bad ones I enjoyed more than I did this one. Don't even get me started on how fundamentally lacking they are in understanding what the Jedi are and who they are as an entity, there was no idea of the self or the values or even codes of the Jedi in this show. Something that could have been such a wonderful and intriguing show, with visuals we all were craving (Jedi Temple) it ended up being below mid-show, shot almost in its whole entirety on a planet that looks 100% like earth with zero intriguing visuals or anything to justify the monstrous budget they had to burn through. Wow, kudos on creating something so empty of meaning I am not even angry after watching it, only baffled that someone actually wrote it and someone actually thought it was good enough to film. Damn.

[deadqueernoldor]

Thinking thoughts about those from Cuivienen and how they later treated the Valar, especially after Cuivienen was destroyed.

I imagine a foundation of sorrow and a layer of betrayal and pettiness. They had promised safety. And how did it turn out? Kin of Tata and Tatie their first leaders, slain in Valinor by the Dark Hunter from which the Valar promised protection in Valinor.

And then, the War of Wrath comes and with it the destruction of Cuivienen.

If any of those were re-embodied in Aman, I wonder if they make it a point to always turn their back to Valar and Maiar. I wonder if they only speak in the tongue they had first devised all those millennia ago and spoke in Cuivienen before time and different kindreds changed the tongue, not Sindarin or Quenya from the Great Journey's time or later. I wonder if they sing songs in their ancient tongue, songs about the beauty and unsullied health of Cuivienen every time any of the Ainur are near.

I wonder if the Valar feel any shame when those who they once looked upon in wonder and love gaze back at them with indifference or disgust.

[daddy-socrates]

sometimes i forget that i started this blog to be about philosophy. anyway i've already told all my group chats so here's one for the blog: just got off a video call w the admissions director at my tied-for-first-choice university and i cannot tell if he thinks i have a shot or if im too much of a loser for their very cool program.

he did give me the very good advice to email faculty i want to work with to introduce myself and get to know them and their work, so maybe that's indicative of . good rapport idk

off to write emails and hope professors deign to respond. please i want to keep doing epistemology. what does it matter

[martyrbat]

habeas corpus – detective comics #1086

(ID in alt!)

[mad-hunts]

this post might be a little controversial, but i feel like if DC just listened to its fans once in a while... they would've come up with something much better than joker: folie à deux 🤷‍♀️ just sayin' — like, i will never not be amazed that they passed up the opportunity to make a batman beyond movie drawn in the same style as the spiderverse movies!! but they DID