#this boy needs to fix his sleep and energy drink habits if he wants to make sure he's not going bald

[squintydrawafist]

Tim's in denial or his siblings are teasing him baselessly

you decide

also the sheer amount of times I get to use this as a reaction image in discord 🤣

[graveincarnate]

BRIAN WILCOX HEADCANONS!

Not Requested

Word Count: 727

Warnings: Brief mentions of marijuana, tobacco, alcohol, alcoholism, and dysfunctional family dynamics

A/N: I have actual x readers ready to be posted in my drafts I promise I just really love writing general headcanons for characters!! I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them <3

- he’s had a nail biting habit since he was a kid

- he wears eyeliner, but just on his waterline. If anyone mentions it he’ll deny it.

- he also dabbles in nail polish, even though they end up chipped a day later

- he didn’t have an easy upbringing considering his dysfunctional family dynamic. 

- he has your typical ‘cigarette mom and deadbeat dad who’s no longer in the picture’ type thing going on.

- he has two dogs, both rottweilers. he’s had them the majority of his life, he let’s them sleep with him every night.

- he hasn’t explored very far into the world of music, he mostly sticks to what he grew up listening to.

- that consisting of artists like: limp bizkit, eminem, nine inch nails, system of the down, beastie boys, cannibal corpse, cypress hill, rob zombie, and insane clown posse.

- he also secretly really likes avril lavigne, courtesy of his mom.

- he never throws away clothes or gets new ones, he’s cycled through the same 6 outfits for the entirety of his teenage years. 

- all his graphic tees have faded prints and most of his sweaters have a hole or two in them. not to mention his worn down converse with laces that are practically dental floss

- he moves around a lot due to family issues, he’s lived in all sorts of places: trailer parks, small towns, big cities, cottages, apartments, houses, cars, basements, you name it, he’s experienced it. 

- he’s a hardcore momma’s boy.

- he resembles her a lot, both in looks and mannerisms. he’s like a mini version of her

- he tries to keep a rough exterior, but truly he’s a deeply caring person.

- he’s a smoker, both weed and cigarettes.

- he doesn’t like drinking, he doesn’t even like having alcohol in the house.

- alcoholism runs in his family so he wants nothing to do with it.

- he has an older brother that’s in college, he heads up to the city to visit him when he needs to get away from everything.

- his natural hair color is light brown, but dyes it himself with black box dye. 

- it’s always comes out looking really patchy so his mom ends up fixing it for him.

- he’s actually really smart academically, but doesn’t apply himself in school.

- he doesn’t have the best personal hygiene.

- he showers when he deems it necessary or when his mom yells at him to have one.

- he’s pretty okay at wearing deodorant regularly, he’ll maybe even splash on a few sprays of one of his mom’s perfumes, but that’s about where it ends.

- he’s really possessive, he doesn’t mean to be he just gets scared of losing people.

- he has a lot of acne; it goes from his face, to his shoulders, and all the way down his back. 

- his room is rarely ever clean, but he tries to at least keep the mess organized. 

- He only drinks soda or energy drinks, his favorite is ‘rip it’. you’d have to beg him to drink water.

- he’s not the best at driving, he either blames it on his shitty car or other shitty drivers.

- he definitely road rages sometimes.

- he loves video games, primarily first person shooters. his favorites are Blood and COD, but he’s also really enjoys Skynet. he doesn’t mind other genres either, he gets really invested in story-driven games like resident evil and final fantasy.

- he runs a relatively popular myspace account.

- he’s touch starved, any crumb of affection he gets from anyone he eats up.

- he loves play fighting, he’ll just walk up to his friends and start throwing playful punches to their shoulders until it escalates.

- he’s had many jobs before his one at mickey’s. he’s worked at grocery stores, spencer’s, blockbuster, convenience stores, hell, he was even a lifeguard once. 

- he did indeed get fired from all of those jobs by the way, needless to say he doesn’t have the best resume.

- he gets a lot of freckles in the summer, and not just on his face, they’re all down his arms, legs, shoulders, and chest. he doesn’t like them much.

- his mom cuts his hair for him, she used to be a hairdresser. 

- she also cuts his friend’s hair for them, she takes care of them like they’re her own. 

- he has the worst sleep schedule, he falls asleep in the early hours of the morning and wakes up in the late afternoon.

- he’s really chatty once you get him going on things he’s interested in. he could go on about one thing for hours and hours on end if someone let him.

[dumbntough]

Late Night Dancing - Johnny Knoxville

Nightmares were normal for you. You didnt get them every night but when you did, it was hard to fall back asleep.

Tonight was no exception.

You opened your eyes, panting, a light, cold sweat thinly covering your body. You felt Johnnys grasp on your waist tighten slightly, causing him to sigh in his sleep. You looked to him, his mouth slightly agape as he let out quiet snores. You smiled softly as his unconscious expression was peaceful.

You turned your head to the other side, seeing it was just past 2 in the morning and let out a quiet sigh, knowing that in just a few hours you both had to wake up to go film with Jeff and the rest of the crew. You chewed on your lip as you gently grabbed onto his wrist, lifting it up to give you enough room to shimmy out of his arms, letting your feet fall onto the cold, hardwood floor, bringing goosebumps up your whole body.

You stood up, fixing one of his shirts you were wearing so that it wasnt rolled up past your stomach. You stepped towards the door, being carefully of the creaky wood, just in case he were to wake up from the noise. The last thing you wanted was for him to be mad at you for waking him up.

You stepped out of the room and down the stairs, seeing the moonlight shine through the sliding door that led to the backyard. You looked out at the firepit, thinking about all the times you'd host bonfires with all the boys after filming sometimes. It'd be a night full of beer and just talking and laughing, occasionally filming some stupid prank they thought of on the spot.

Itd mostly consist of smacking Ehren, getting in the pool some stupid way, or making Dave eat something gross and ending up kicking him in the balls. You shook your head at the thought and made your way to the kitchen, turning on the light above the stove and walking to a cupboard, grabbing a glass before filling it with tap water. Not your first pick, but its what you had readily available without doing a whole lot of work.

You leaned against the sink, looking out the window facing the driveway, letting out a small sigh. You always had problems sleeping, you just never thought it was that big of deal up until you got together with Johnny. He would make comments about your sleeping habits or about the fact you'd need at least 3 energy drinks a day at least just so that you wouldnt fall asleep when you were stuck in the office.

You closed your eyes as you took the last drink of your water, setting the empty glass in the sink. As you turned to shut off the stove night, you saw Johnny lazily leaning against the doorframe, staring at you with a tired look in his eyes and a lazy smirk on his face. You felt your face grow red and hot from just getting caught awake this early in the morning.

"Sorry, I was just about to come back up." you whispered as you looked back up at his face, trying your hardest to not look at his half naked figure, only wearing a pair of his boxers, his normal sleepwear that you could never get over.

"Don't worry about that sweetheart," he mumbled, his tired tone making the warmth from your cheeks travel to the tips of your ears and down to your neck. You felt his hands find your waist, pulling you into his chest as he moved his face down into your shoulder, "Couldnt sleep again doll?" he asked quietly as your hands laid on his forearms, slowly moving up his biceps then around his neck, you let your arms wrap around him as you shook your head, closing your eyes.

He didnt say anything after that, just swaying both of your bodies to the music that wasnt playing, making you let out a small giggle. You didnt like talking about the nightmares, mostly because they consisted of him doing the over the top stunts like when he roller skated with the bull, fought Butter Bean. Just any stunt that ended with him having to go to the hospital, you hated it and would constantly worry about him. He understood though, only able to assume what they were about, so he never asked, just glad he was able to comfort you when they woke you up.

He pulled away from her after a few minutes, grabbing his phone connected from the charger. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him, hearing a Johnny Cash song start to play from the phone speaker. You held back a laugh as he turned back to you, reaching a hand out for you to take. You gave him a small smirk as you took his hand, letting out a small laugh as he pulled you in, his free hand resting on your waist just above your hip. You moved your free hand to his shoulder, just looking up into his eyes.

He started to hum to the song, slowly singing to it to you quietly, making you giggle and tip your head back as he danced you both around the room. He wasnt the best at singing, but it didnt stop him from trying to keep you happy. It was a sweet moment that not a lot of people were able to see. It was a moment that was meant for just the both of you and that was how you liked it.

On the last line of the song, he held you out at arms length, a smirk on his lips once again as he spun you back into his chest and dipped you, his hand that was once on your waist now holding onto the back of your knee. You let out a laugh as his head moved into your neck, letting his lips trail soft, small kisses down to your collar bone.

He brought you back up, both hands on your waist as he left a small, sweet kiss onto your lips which you greatly reciprocated.

"I love you, doll." He whispered quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I love you too PJ." you smiled, closing your eyes.

[pradaksj]

Safety Net || part one. (m.)

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. 

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader 

❧ genre⟶  enemies to friends, friends to lovers, roommates au, fluff, angst, pining, eventual smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series. 

❧ word count ⟶ 24,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ mentions of oral and sex but nothing explicit or descriptive. fight scene that involves drunk man. mentions of bullying (in the past). 

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n (please read) ⟶ this story switches a lot from past & present, I color coded borders to make it easier to tell :) dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple= present, also this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes 😭 ill come back to edit a lot of things soon. 

01 | 02 

“Oh perfect, y/n!” Hobi stops you dead in your tracks before you could completely make your way onto the living room, “You don’t mind grabbing some more firewood from my car while I finish these up,” he says, currently too busy melting the chocolate for the s’mores he was making.

You see tonight was New Year’s Eve, and you and a couple of other close friends had decided to rent out a cabin in celebration of the new year instead of going out to some end of the year party, choosing comfort over a night of wild drinking. In the end it didn’t make much of a difference, because the moment you saw Jimin and Taehyung walk in with a pack of soju and other cheap liquor in their hands, you knew that by the end of the night someone, if not everyone, was going to end up completely wasted.

And of course, you were right. After hours of being outside in the cold, with the boys drinking as if there was no tomorrow, everyone had now made their way back inside, complaining that it was too cold outside and that the cabin came with an indoor fireplace for a reason.

Never one to drink too heavy, you had kept your drinking at a moderate pace, only allowing yourself to reach a relaxed kind of buzz. Namjoon and Yoongi on the other hand were currently debating on whether the US’s landing of the moon was nothing more than a fake ploy to beat Russia and was instead filmed on some movie set. 

Jin and his girlfriend acted as measly facilitators between the two men who had been bickering back and forth for the past hour, their slurred speeches making it difficult to take either one seriously. 

Jimin, for his part, had attempted to keep his drinking at a minimal but with Taehyung acting as his partner in crime, the two were now playing an unbalanced game of ping-pong, both of them looking as if at any moment they were going to knock out on the table. And Jungkook was— well where the hell was Jungkook?

But before you could dwell too much on the thought, Hobi’s voice snaps you back to reality, “pleaseeee, I’ll even add an extra chocolate square to your s’more, just like how always like em,” he flashes you a smile, your roommate of 3, going on 4, years knowing just what to say to convince you, not that you needed much of it. 

Minus Hobi, you were probably the person closest to being sober, and you did not want to imagine the different disastrous scenarios that would happen if he sent anyone who wasn’t yourself out there. You also highly doubted any of them would even be up for it, and so with that you just let out a small groan, mumbling, “Where are your keys?”

Excitedly he points to the kitchen island, where his Hyundai’s keys laid across, “I parked right near the lake,” he says, immediately causing you to look back at him, brows furrowed in confusion, “No one wanted to carry the wood from here to the bonfire earlier, so I just parked near the lake to save our energy,” you roll your eyes, “Come on, it’s just a 2 minute walk at most, and I’m sure there’s still people celebrating across the lake as well so you don’t feel so scared, but if you want I can ask Jungkook to go wi—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine—” you interrupt, grabbing the keys and beginning to make your way out, quickly putting on your coat because God knew how cold it was outside. “He’s probably asleep already, knowing him,” you chuckle, the boy who Hobi had introduced you to in the last year and had been living with you two as well, had habit’s that were all too predictable by now. And though you knew he’d be more than glad to get up from bed and help, for now at least, you wanted him to rest as he, himself, was probably tired from carrying things back and forth all day in the help of preparing everything. “I’ll be quick,” you say.

“Make sure that no wooden splinter cuts you,” he shouts out before the wooden door closes, having been the victim to such cuts all day, “and call me if you find it too heavy!”

Beep. Beep.

Double clicking the lock button, you grunt as you try to simultaneously carry the uneven pieces of firewood and place Hobi’s keys back into your jacket’s pocket.

“Oh my God—” you mumble to yourself, frustrated by the lack of cooperation from the keys. The wood was now slipping from your hands, its gritty texture eager to leave you a cut and as predicted it does. 

Wincing in pain, you uncaringly drop the pieces of wood, worried more about the cut on your hand than what had fallen on the ground below. Luckily the cut wasn’t too bad, nothing a little soap and water couldn’t fix, but the tingly sting in your hand meant that you’d have to wait a while before picking the wooden pieces back up.

Around you, you could hear the sound of different groups of friends and family celebrating with their own events, spotting different bonfires all around the lake. Glancing at the time on your phone, it currently read 11:00, only one more hour until the new year. A part of you was tempted to walk further down the path that led to the lake’s shore. Maybe even secretly wait so that you could watch the fireworks these groups of people most likely had shoot up into the sky at 12. Especially because you knew going back to the cabin, no one would want to come back out with you to watch. Honestly, how bad did they need their wood?

And so by convincing yourself, you begin to walk further towards the lake, careful not to trip on any of the scattered rocks that surround you. By the time you made it down, you were surprised to see just how far you were from other families, most, if not all, of them being directly across the lake. Honestly you wouldn’t have preferred it any other way. 

You didn’t want to seem creepy, but the sight was somewhat comforting, the kids running around in their winter gear while their parents and friends all surrounded their bonfire, sticks and marshmallows in hand.

Not to mention that tonight was a full moon, the milky glow from the moonlight reflecting against the ripples of the lake, and the tiny stars which surrounded the magnet that was the moon only adding to the grand scenery in front of you. Usually you weren’t a sucker for these kinds of things, but wow did it look amazing. The person who’d really enjoy something like this was probably—

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, confused if you were seeing things because there he was, not too far from where you stood, sitting on a giant rock with his feet dangling, careful to not touch the freezing water. His right hand throwing the small pebbles that were near him to the lake. Not too hard, and not too soft. Clearly in his own world. 

A small smile graces your lips, as you watch him continue, the lake not being the only thing the moonlight was hitting. His glimmering doe shaped eyes focused on the view in front of him, and you could only wonder what had him in such deep thought, but instead not wanting to bother, you slowly began to walk back, careful to not to make any loud noises.

One Step. Two Steps. Three Steps. Crrreaaak.

Mentally, you groan at the sound of the branch breaking, hoping that it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

“Y/N?” he says unsurely, his attention snapping towards the sound, squinting while trying to make out your figure from afar. Your tensed shoulders drop in response. Deciding that there wasn’t much you could do, you turn around and walk towards him, feeling a little guilty that you’ve probably interrupted his time alone.

He watches as you make your way towards him, scooting to his left in order to make space for you because unbeknown to you, he was not at all bothered by your presence. In fact, he had just been thinking about you along with a question that had been looming over his head for quite some time. And the fact that you somehow managed to appear in this exact moment, almost as if it was fate, only left him in further awe.

“I thought you were asleep,” you chuckle, gently sitting down on the empty spot next to him, slowly rubbing your slightly cut hands together in an attempt to stay warm.

“I was going to sleep, but,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “and well why waste such a good view by being in bed, am I right?,” he laughs before quickly noticing the fresh scar on your hand, “What happened?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

You shrug your shoulders in response, “I came to grab some more firewood from Hobi’s car and well long story short, I dropped them and well I got left with this,” you laugh, not taking your tiny injury too seriously.

Opening up your hand to further show him, he carefully examines the pinkish-red scar which was now slightly swollen, sighing in disappointment, “Mm you should’ve gone to go get it disinfected,” he mumbles, slightly shaking his head as he decides that he wasn’t going to lecture you any further, for in the past year he’s learned that even someone as sweet as you, has their own buttons capable of being pushed. 

Having pushed them many, many times before, tonight he just wanted you to feel relaxed and not have to worry about whether he’d say the wrong thing or not. Tonight… well tonight he just wanted for you to seek comfort in his presence, the same way he’d found comfort in yours along the way.

“It doesn’t hurt too much if I’m being honest,” you give him a small reassuring smile, if anything your hands felt more clammy than they did pain. The warm feeling in your chest only expanding to the point where you swore you could feel it at the bottom of your toes. 

Honestly, it was a feeling you found yourself all too familiar with these days, and though you knew what it was, you were also unsure on how to act on it, fearful of ruining the friendship with Jungkook that had gone through several ups and downs this year. And so for you the easiest thing to do was to just avoid thinking about it and avoid talking about it.

But there was no denying that the rush of emotions you’d feel whenever you managed to crack a laugh out of Jungkook to the point where his nose would scrunch so high up that you were sure that those happy days would last forever, or the ticklish butterflies you’d feel in your stomach on movie nights where he’d randomly begin to twirl your hair with his fingers, and the rapid heartbeat you’d feel hitting against your chest after an argument over something so trivial, until of course after several days of the silent treatment, one of you would get over themselves and stubbornly apologize whether it be through words or actions, were nothing but love.

Because even in the good and bad of your friendship, the arguments and the laughs, the tears and the smiles, somehow along the way you had found yourself falling in love with the boy who was nothing more than a stranger a year ago today.

“50 more minutes,” he says under his breath, bringing you back to reality.

Awkwardly you smile, “Yeah…” you breathe, the cold crisp weather causing vapor to come out of your mouth, a sign that you were freezing despite having such a thick sweater on. Jungkook is quick to take notice, offering his own puffy jacket for you to wear, to which you quickly refuse, “Take it, I have a sweater underneath anyway,” he pressures. You find it doubtful that his black cotton turtleneck was going to be sufficient enough for him in this weather. 

You giggle at his sweet gesture, finding it all too endearing, “I’m telling you I’m good,” you laugh, your shivering fingers telling a different story, “Until the clock strikes twelve at least,” you bargain, pushing the sweater in his hand away back towards him, “then I’ll go back to the warm cabin.” 

He looks at you as if unconvinced, but decides to drop it and take your word for it. And if you somehow managed to weasel into staying any longer past 12, then he’d just have to forcefully carry you back to the cabin.

Soon a comfortable silence fills the air, the two of you appreciating not only the view but each other’s presence. How fitting was it that the person you met on New Year’s day last year was going to be the person you ended it with, and begin a whole ‘nother year with.

“Can you believe it’s been one whole year since we’ve met,” he suddenly breaks the silence, almost as if reading your mind. To that you let out a small breathy chuckle, in disbelief yourself. Time had gone both so slow and fast this year, it was fascinating really, how you could be both so aware and unaware that someone’s very own existence was beginning to take such a special place in your heart.

“It feels like,” you pause momentarily, a small gentle smile appearing on your face as you remembered your first encounter with Jungkook, not knowing that it’d only be the beginning to the originally rocky relationship you had with him, “It feels like it was only yesterday.”

December 31, 2018.

New Years Eve.

11:00 PM.

“Only one hour left until the new year everybody!” the DJ shouts onto his mic and over the blasting music of the party you were currently at, “Make sure you grab that special somebody before the clock strikes 12!”

“You heard him y/n, go grab a special somebody,” Hobi teases, the two of you currently sitting at the bar acting as mere spectators to the group of partygoers that were currently having the time of their life on the dance floor.  

For both you and Hobi, this type of setting was a little… how could you describe it … out of place for the two of you, but after weeks of begging from both Jimin and Taehyung and a little added pressure from Namjoon and Yoongi, the two of you now found yourselves here drinking the final night of 2018 away.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” you playfully roll your eyes, grabbing the shot glass full of tequila and downing the surprisingly smooth liquor. Hobi follows suit and chugs down his own. A squirmful look on his face following soon after. “Maybe if I drink enough, I’ll find myself dancing just like them,” you laugh, glancing at your group of friends who were currently acting as the life of the party, Jimin busting out what he calls his most “exclusive” moves.

Hobi, unlike him, remains silent which catches your attention. His attention was now on his phone, his face now appearing both red and stressed out. Nosily, you stretch your neck and attempt to peak at what could possibly have your roommate so worried, but Hobi’s quick to catch you. Immediately he pulls his phone towards his chest.

You gasp in dramatic fashion because one, your roommate wasn’t one to keep secrets from you, and two, well you were beginning to feel a little tipsy. “Now what could Jung Hoseok be hiding,” your words come out slightly slurred, a sign that the only thing you should be drinking from this point onward was some water.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he’s quick to respond, back on his phone but this time keeping it out of your reach, his fingers quickly tapping against the glass screen. You could only wonder who it was that had him typing as if his life depended on it.

“Come onnnnn,” you sing, playfully pushing his shoulder, “It can’t be that interesting, considering you don’t do much,” you pout. He looks up from his phone for a moment, but only to shoot you a glare, excusing your teasing with the fact that you were barely holding onto the state of being tipsy and on the brink of being considered drunk.

Hobi’s eyes quickly read the most recent text he’s received, rolling his eyes at whatever it was before sighing in distress, “You really wanna know?” eagerly you nod your head yes, “Well I was hoping he would be here so I could introduce you to him,” he gently shakes his head, clearly disappointed by tonight’s outcome.

“Ooooo who's the special person,” you quirk your brows up and down, but Hobi’s quick to shoot the idea down.

“Oh no, no, it’s not like that,” he laughs, “this person is a..” he pauses, trying to look for the best word to describe his relationship with said person, “Mm I guess we can call him a childhood friend,” he hums, “and well he’s been going through a bit of a tough time right now and well long before me and you ever met, he went out of his way to help me and well I think this time it’s only right that I’m there for him.” you tilt your head, slightly confused as to where this was going, “And sooo,” he sings, “I was hoping that by bringing you here and having you in a fun mood, that I could ask if he could stay at our place for a couple of months…”

You remain silent, Hobi’s words processing through your head one by one, an effect of the alcohol currently running through your system, “Only until he gets used to being in Seoul again, and finds some kind of solid ground here of course,” Hobi throws it in, worried that your silence meant rejection.

“Oh…” you mumble, thinking to yourself for a moment. Hobi’s friend huh? Well you and Hobi were like two peas in a pod, meaning whoever was a friend of his, was a friend of yours, point blank. You trusted that whoever this friend was, and whatever predicament they were in, chose to go to Hobi for the sole reason that Hobi was one of, if not the kindest person you’ve ever met, and was one of the very rare kind of people who made sure that whatever it was a person was going through, that they found a way to overcome it. And well you also assume that Hobi was going to take care of this person’s expenses … right?

You smile once you reach a decision, “Of course they can stay Hobi,” you laugh, a little offended that he thought you’d say no, but glad that he asked anyway.

Immediately Hobi breathes a sigh of relief, glad that he got that out of the way, “But he’s using your bathroom, make sure you tell him that!” you throw in, not wanting the order in which you had your things arranged to be touched with.

Hobi laughs in response, “I’ll make sure to tell Jungkook that,” so that was his name, Jungkook. Not too much of a common name in Korea, interesting, you think.

“So when do I get to meet our new temporary roommate?” you ask in eagerness, curiosity a driving force.

Hobi sighs recalling his text from not too long ago, “Well he was supposed to come here and celebrate tonight, giving you two a chance to meet beforehand, but,” he rereads the message on his phone, hoping the three bubbles would pop up at some point before scoffing and ultimately giving up, locking the screen, “I’m not entirely too sure if he’s going to make it.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you get up from the bar stool and stretch out your arms, yawning in turn, “Mm well I guess I’ll just meet him on move in day,” you joke around, glancing at the time on your phone, “but for now I need to go pee before the countdown, there’s only like 10 minutes left,” you exclaim, surprised by how fast the hour had gone by. Hobi nods in response, getting up himself and making his way to the dance floor, joining your group of friends.

And so you begin to walk towards the ladies’ room, humming yourself a tune over the EDM music that was currently close to rupturing your eardrum. How people liked this kind of music was something you’d never understand, but to each their own right? Luckily you weren’t as drunk as you thought you were, the effects of the tequila only acting as something quick and not long lasting. Now in more of a buzzed state than “drunk”.

“MmmMmmMmm,” you hum, pushing the door of the ladies room and making your way into one of the stalls. But what you saw once you opened the restroom stall was … um …. it was safe to say that you were shocked at the sight in front of you. Shocked to the point where you couldn’t even properly react, not even a shriek coming out of your mouth. 

Instead you just stood there, wide eyed, at the sight of a brown haired woman on her knees, with her hair in a messy ponytail giving um … oral … on what you could only describe as a very very handsome man.

Now if you were to ask if he was really all that into it? Well it seemed a bit unclear considering how the two of you were now having a complete stare down, a shocked expression on your face while he had a stoic one on his, until slowly a small smirk began to appear on his face.

He scoffs before saying, “Enjoying the view?” and with that you finally shriek and quickly close the stall dorm, practically running out the door because not only were you embarrassed by the situation that just happened but still in complete shock.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, leaning your head against the wall in an attempt to process what just happened. And once you did, you facepalmed yourself in frustration, mad at the reaction you had because God was that embarrassing. 

You had acted as if you’d never seen, hell, as if you’d never done the dirty with someone, but for some reason walking in on someone receiving their um... pleasure… had you feeling like a kid who didn’t know about the birds and the bees. And his little comment only added salt to the wound, he probably thought you were enjoying the view with how long you had stayed there standing like an idiot!

“Start grabbing your partners everyone because the countdown is happening in exactly three minutes everybody! Three minutes till we enter 2019!” Three minutes?! You had to find your friends quick! Pushing off what happened to the back of your mind, you speed walk back to the main sector of the club, looking through the crowd of people in hopes of finding at least one of your friends.

“Where could he b—Ah!” you impulsively squeal once you spot Hobi along with the rest of your friends, quickly making your way towards them, Hobi spotting you as well.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Hobi asks, but just as you’re about to answer, a voice from behind interrupts.

“I caught traffic, and well parking was a bitch,” the voice, all too familiar, sends a feeling of panic through your body because turning to face the owner of said voice, was just as surprising as the scene you walked in on only moments ago.

“Y/N! This is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/N, my roommate I was telling you about,” Hobi shouts over the music, and all you can do is stare at the man in front of you wide eyed. Your mouth slightly agape in shock, while Jungkook on the other hand has a teasing grin on his face, as only the two of you knew what had transpired in the ladies’ restroom. He sticks his hand out for you to shake and you notice the small number of tattoos that cover his hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we got one minute on the clock! Start saying your goodbyes to 2018, and get ready to say hello to 2019!” The DJ shouts excitedly, lowering the music for the countdown that’s about to begin.

“Earth to Y/N?” Hobi says waving his hand in front of you, having left Jungkook with his hand open for quite some time now.

“Oh,” you say, bringing yourself back to reality and shaking his hand in return, but the moment you do he brings you in for a small friendly hug, “What a small world,” he whispers into your ear, winking at you as he pulls away.

Hobi, unaware of how you two originally met, rolls his eyes, “Hey, hey hey, she’s our roommate not some girl you can go messing around with,” Hobi says, “Now come on you two, there’s only 15 seconds left!” gently he shoves the two of you towards your groups of friends who were now wearing their New Year’s props which included giant sunglasses, feathered boa’s, and more.

“In 10, 9, 8 , 7, 6…” everyone begins to scream the numbers of the countdown, 2018 clearly leaving with a bang, “5,4,3!” you suddenly feel an arm wrap over your shoulder, and like in the movies a part of you expected it to be the man you just met, but thankfully enough it was Jimin who was clearly drunk, excited, and in clear need of catching his balance. But of course that didn’t mean someone didn’t have their eyes on you from afar…

“2, 1! Happy New Year!” The fog machine erupts and the strings of golden confetti begin to fall from the club’s ceiling. Cheers to the New Year.

Clutching your stomachs in laughter, the two of you poke fun at the recollection of that fatal first encounter, “I really walked in on you getting,” you heave in such a way that you’re incapable of completing the sentence, genuine laughter filling the air.

“Hey, you were the one who stood there like you’d never seen a—” playfully you push his shoulder before even he gets the chance to finish his own sentence.

“Like what you see?” you exaggeratingly mimic his voice from that night, lowering your voice by several octaves. He cries out in laughter, tears now forming in the corners of his eyes, feeling cringe at his choice of words from a year ago today. Who did he think he was? “The woman didn’t even bother to look up! Clearly you had her enamored in what she was doing!” you tease, and in response he wraps his arms around you in a playful manner, telling you that he didn’t want to hear any more.

“What even happened when I left?” you ask, curious to know the answer considering you only knew what you did afterwards.

“Well I overheard the DJ yell about the countdown so I had to cut it short, and well we exchanged numbers. I mean it wasn’t at all a drunk hookup or anything, I was sober, she was sober. I think I went out with her once afterward, but,” he shrugs his shoulders, “It was just meant to be a one time thing I guess,” he mumbles, shaking his head in slight shame and embarrassment. See a year ago, hookups like that were the norm for him, but a year ago he was also nothing like the person he was now. Was it for the better? He’d like to think so.

Shaking your head, you mumble, “To think our relationship would only get worse,” you stare at him accusingly, “no thanks to you!” He stays silent, not bothering to deny the accusation.

“Hey you didn’t make it any easier!” he huffs, “Do you need help with that? What’s that? I don’t think that should be placed there,” he mocks your questions from that day many months ago, move in day.  

“I was just trying to be nice! Make things less awkward, you know?” you feel your cheeks get red, now seeing how pushy you had probably been.

He scoffs, “No you just didn’t want your things invaded with mine,” it was now your turn to stay silent.

“Mm,” you hum.

January 2019.

“I don’t think that should go there,” you whisper to Hobi, watching Jungkook place more of his things around your apartment, secretly hoping it was the last batch. 

This had to at least be your 15th complaint today, but what bothered Jungkook more was that not only wouldn’t you tell it to his face, but they’d be said in such a superficial tone. He didn’t care if you were trying to be “nice”, it sounded fake and prissy and he’d prefer it if you could just shut up for one moment. People like you were just so… annoying, and to think he thought you were cute.

“Do you need help?” your voice interrupts his train of thought, your figure now looming over his shoulder, and attempting to look at the content of his cardboard boxes. Harshly, he closes the flaps, momentarily scowling at you before taking a deep breath and putting on his best face.

“No it’s fine, I’m almost done but thank you though,” he says, now his turn to be superficial.

“Oh well just let me know if you need anything,” you smile, as unbeknownst to Jungkook, you really were just this nice of a person. Yeah, things may still be a little awkward on your part because of what happened on New Years Eve, you of course having to pep talk yourself several times in the mirror this morning, but to you it was important you established some kind of friendship with your new roommate. Even if he wasn’t going to be here for long.

“I’m gonna go get us takeout,” Hobi announces, not only tired but hungry from having helped Jungkook carry his stuff upstairs to the apartment floor all day, because out of all days in the year, today the elevator just had to be out of service. “I’ll be back,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and making his way out. Leaving you and Jungkook to yourselves.

An awkward silence fills the living room air, Jungkook currently taking a small break on the long couch, while you sit on the short one, fidgeting with your fingers. Maybe you should make conversation? It wouldn’t hurt right?  

“So Jungkook,” you begin nervously, he looks up from his phone and places his attention on you, a stoic expression on his face, “um..”, you mentally scold yourself for not already having a question prepared before speaking, “where are you from?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he scoffs, “Korea?” he says, as if stating the obvious.

Feeling flustered, you reiterate your question, “No I mean like where did you move from, you know…” your voice lowers at the end.

He sighs before responding, his attention now back on his phone, “I was in the states for a while, but I’m originally from Busan.”

Immediately you light up, seeing this as an opportunity to further the conversation, “Oh I have a friend from there, I don’t know if you met him on New Years, but his name is Jimin!” you excitedly ramble, “He was the one with the dirty blonde hair, black turtleneck, sparkly jac—”

“Yeah I know,” Jungkook rudely interrupts, now getting up from the couch and walking towards his new room, “Let me know when Hobi’s back, yeah? I’m freaking starving,” and with that he enters his room and shuts the door, leaving you slightly taken back.  

“Will do,” you quietly mumble to yourself, a little hurt to say the least by his cold action. Shrugging it off, you excuse it by assuming he was just grumpy. You were sure that he'd be more open to having conversation after settling his things in.

That night after cleaning a couple of your own things, and eating the food Hobi had brought, you remained in bed and on your laptop, Youtube surfing the rest of the night away. That was of course until you heard the sound of your restroom door opening and closing. Right away you get up, already knowing what transpired, but wanting to see the mess that was most likely made with your own two eyes.

Walking into your restroom, you’re immediately hit with the scent of your strawberry shampoo and lavender body wash mixed in with the foggy steam that was created, a result of an extremely hot shower. The sink, a travesty to look at, was spilled with water all over and you did not even want to get started on the “manly” products that were now side to side with yours behind the mirror’s cabinet. Meanwhile, your hair brush was covered in strands of dark brown hair that clearly weren’t yours. But the final straw? Finding the cap of your $100 dollar serum halfly screwed closed with remnants dripping down the bottle.

Shutting the cabinet, you practically stomp out of your restroom and immediately towards Jungkook’s door. Raising your hand to knock, you take in a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. Maybe Hobi didn’t tell him anything about using your restroom. This was only going to be a one time thing until you cleared it out with him.

Gently, you knock on his door, patiently awaiting his response. You could hear the sound of muffled music playing in the background, meaning it was probably much louder inside the room than out. Raising your hand to knock again, the door swings open just as you’re about to tap against the black wooden door. A shirtless Jungkook with your baby blue towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yes?” he smugly says, your cheeks almost an embarrassing shade of crimson. It’s hard to not look at what’s in front of you, but you manage.

“Oh um—” you fluster your words, “um —” you gulp before finding your words again, “I was hoping Hobi had told you about the bathroom situation…but um..I guess he didn’t so um yeah, my bathroom is only for me to us—”

“He did,” he cuts you off,  huffing a small laugh.

“He what?” you asked, unsure of what he was referring to, or at least acting dense about it because you did not want to believe that the shirtless boy in front of you completely disregarded the simple rule he was supposed to follow.

“He told me about the whole bathroom rearrangement, buuuuttt,” he teases, “your restroom has the bigger shower and well add strawberry scented shampoo and lavender body wash into the mix and honestly it was a done deal for me,” he stretches his arms above himself, dramatically yawning, his abdomen stretching out in such a way that the towel on his waist was barely clinging onto its dear life.

“But—But—”

“But what?” he cocks his head to the side, amused by your panicked behavior, “It’s also the closest one to me so,” he shrugs his shoulders, “Well if that’s all you came here for then, goodnight,” he winks at you before turning around and slamming the door once again.

You stand there bewildered by what just happened, your mouth agape in shock. Did that really just happen or? Because if it did then he practically just told you that he didn’t give one single fuck.

Making your way back to your room, you’re unsure on how to feel about everything that just happened because sure you’ve encountered your fair share of rude people before but to live with one was a completely different story. And Jungkook wasn’t only rude, he was the smug kind, the “I know I’m good looking, so I can treat anyone the way I want to because my good looks will let me get away with it,” type of rude. Was it a little specific? Yes. But it’s true. Honestly, it was the type of person you thought only existed in rom-coms but clearly they exist in real life. Jungkook being a prime example of such an attitude.

“Just a couple of months,” you breathe out, throwing yourself onto your bed in exasperation, “until he gets settled down in Seoul,” you repeat Hobi’s words from New Years Eve to yourself, sighing before allowing slumber to sweep over you.  

“So much for a couple of months,” you tease Jungkook, nudging his shoulder a little bit because a year later and he was still your roommate, and ironically it was you and Hobi who practically begged him to stay.

He scrunches his nose, “ I don’t see you complaining.”

You raise your hands in defense, “I’m just kiddinnn,” you sing, “What would I do without your buttermilk pancakes huh?” you grin at him, his eyes rolling playfully in return.

“Is that all you want from me? Pancakes!” he chuckles, “Ah I should’ve known,” he shakes his head. The two of you giggle at each other’s banter, his high pitched laugh truly infectious.

“What do you think y/n and Jungkook from the beginning of 2019 would think of this scene right now?” you ask, knowing the answer.

Jungkook ponders at the question for a moment before letting out a deep breath and answering, “Mm I think they’d have a hard time believing what’s in front of them, at least I would. I think you would be happy to see that your goal in becoming friends with your new roommate worked out just fine. It just took a bit of time was all…”

February 2019.

To say that you were struggling to live with Jungkook would probably be the biggest understatement of the year. From the constant use of your things without permission, to the blatant rude remarks he’d constantly throw at you, to the days where he’d be completely cold to you and the rest of the world, and don’t even let you get started on the constant women he’d bring over. You’d have to invest in some ear plugs soon if it kept going at the rate it was because at this point you knew Jungkook liked it um … rough … so to speak.  

You found yourself asking Hobi, “Has he settled down yet?” wayyyy too often. Sometimes it felt like Jungkook was purposely baiting you to stoop to his level, like as if he was itching to play a game of cat and mouse. And so for you to continuously suck it up and put on a fake smile for him, only made him do more things to bother you. 

He was like a mosquito pestering you at the back of your neck. He wouldn’t stop until he got his fangs, or whatever it was that mosquitos used to bite, into you. For what reason? You truly did not know, for you have been nothing but nice to him since the day he moved in.

You often wondered how Hobi could put up with it, you mean Jungkook wasn’t exactly mean to Hobi, but he did throw remarks and eye rolls here and there. The best way to describe it was that Jungkook was treating you two like punching bags, and a part of you wanted to know why? Not only why, but where? Where is Jungkook from? Why was he in the states? What made him come back? Why can’t he go back to Busan? Does he have family? How does Hobi even know the dude? Why does Jungkook wake up with a stick up his ass every morning? Why was Jungkook angry at the world and when did he decide that he was going to take it out on you two, especially you. Honestly you were unsure if you’d ever get answers to your questions, but it wouldn’t matter in a couple of weeks when he was gone, right?

Luckily though the only times you really did see Jungkook was on weekends, and even then if you weren’t out doing some nightly festivities then he was. Or while you went grocery shopping he was working out or something, Not to mention that weekdays you worked AM shifts at your job while Jungkook, who had been hooked up with a job at one of the coffee shop’s Hobi managed, worked afternoon to night shifts. 

This meant that whenever you were going to work, Jungkook was catching up on his sleep and vice versa. But occasionally when you two did bump paths, let’s say going to your restroom, he definitely used those opportunities to try and get under your skin. Each and every time, failing to do so.

But today something was different. You weren’t sure if it was because as you were driving to work, coffee spilled onto your shirt at a speed bump because someone stole your favorite coffee thermo which had a securable lid. This then caused you to be 30 minutes late which then resulted in you receiving your first ever official warning. Or maybe it was because you had to not only stay an extra 30 minutes, but an extra hour because someone’s late night hook up the night prior kept you up and completely unfocused. You personally had chosen to go to sleep than stay up and listen to some girl screaming about how much deeper she wanted it while trying to type up your monthly report. And then of course who could forget the cherry on top? Coming back home to that same certain someone, and having to deal with the accusations that you stole his banana milk.

“I didn’t steal anything,” you mumble, warming up the japchae Hobi had left for you on the stove. Jungkook gets up and opens the fridge door, dramatically showing you the empty spot where his banana milk was usually at.

“Well someone did, and Hobi says it wasn’t him and well I trust Hobi so,” Jungkook shrugs, looking at you with a deadpan look on his face. Sadly, Hobi probably asleep already, tired from what you assumed was a long day of work and the thing about Hobi was once he went to sleep there was no waking him up. That boy could sleep through the world ending, “I don’t exactly think it’s beneath you to steal my things…” he says, each one of his words dripping with venom.

You?! Stealing his things?! When he’s the one who's been taking your things left and right?? If he had caught you on any other day, you probably would’ve shrugged his accusations off, hell you might’ve even taken the blame and offer to buy him a new pack. But right now, you could feel your blood almost boiling. How dare he!

“I,” your voice rises, completely ready to go off on the boy, until you hear a door slam, Hobi coming out completely groggy and clearly annoyed.

“Will you two just,” his voice is heavy, sighing in frustration, “Y/N just go and eat in your room,” he says, feeling like a parent to two fighting siblings.

“But—” you’re about to fight your case, until Hobi interrupts.

“Y/N…” he looks at you in despair, his tone a clear indicator that he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t annoyed, he was just tired. You grab your food from the stove, having to pass by Jungkook as you leave the kitchen.

“Was little miss saccharine finally going to pop?” he scoffs, the two of you momentarily having a stare down, until quickly you compose yourself, the fake smile he knew all too well back on your face.

“Goodnight Jungkook,” you say, before making your way back into your room, peeved that Hobi scolded you and not Jungkook, that was until you heard the sound of muffled voices through your closed door. 

If you wanted to get a better listen you were going to have to crack open the door without making a single sound, something that would be embarrassing if you managed to fail. Deciding that you were too nosy for your own good, you thankfully succeed in doing so, their voices sounding much clearer to your ears.    

“You know she’s having a bad day, and yet—” you hear the sound of Hobi flapping his arms in despair, “and yet you still make her your target of the day,” he says.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, his voice telling you that he was ready to go on the defense.

“Jungkook let’s not act dense,” Hobi says, “What are we in preschool? You have some crush, and think being mean will get you your way with her?” Hobi accuses, which Jungkook immediately denies.

“She wishes,” he mumbles in return, “I treat her like I treat everyone,” he clarifies, almost sounding proud.

“No you treat her worse,” Hobi adds, “if you’re not giving her some backhanded compliment then you’re completely giving her the cold shoulder. I probably only get half of what she does, and even I’m getting fed up with it, so I could only imagine how she feels,” he sighs, “but Y/N is a very very nice person, and since that first day I met her in till even today, I have never seen her get mad at anyone, but you my friend are,” he pauses, trying to think of the best way to describe it, “well you’re pushing buttons that I’ve never seen pushed.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Yeah because her whole act of “I’m miss goody two shoes and can never even hurt a fly” act is such bullshit,” he drops his air quotes, “a grown ass woman acting like telling someone off will add some kind of dent to the image I’m sure has taken her a very long time to build.”

With every word he says, you could feel your stomach drop further and further down. The lump in your throat desperate to be let out. “She probably has you and the rest of the world fooled, but I can see right through it. It’s people like her who will lie to your face, and tell you everything you want to hear because they don’t want to be painted out as some bad guy. And let me tell you people like that are much worse than me because at least I have the balls to tell it like it is to someone’s face rather than protect my own ego, ” he finishes his rant, the veins on his neck faintly popping.

Hobi remains silent for a moment, taking in everything Jungkook said, then pushing his hair back with his hand, an indicator that he was stressed, “Look man, I’m letting you stay here so you can get back on your feet, and because you didn’t want go back to Busan,” he sighs, knowing he’s stepping on broken glass, “I don’t know what happened over there in the states, and I’m not gonna ask about it because I’m sure you’ll talk about it the day you’re ready to,” he pauses, “But what I do know is that you’re right, Y/N does fake her persona from time to time…” you feel your heart drop, while Jungkook’s face goes smug. That is until Hobi continued with what he was saying, “But the same way I’m not gonna ask you about why you came back to Korea a completely cold person, I’m not gonna question why she acts the way it does, especially because it's not hurting anyone.”

“Of course you wo—”

Hobi cuts him off before he can continue, “Let me finish,” he sternly says, his brows knitted, “But as long she keeps letting her feelings build up the way I’m assuming they are, and you keep acting the way you are now then—” he sighs, “There’s going to be a day where the water in the pot is going to boil over and well I don’t wanna be here when it happens,” his presses his lips together, shaking his head at the mere idea, “All I ask for Jungkook is that you try to be a little nicer to her, just for once. I think the two of you would actually be pleasantly surprised at how much in common you have,” Jungkook tries his best to bite his tongue, seeing just how tired his friend looked, “Maybe not even nice to her, just decent. Can you do me that favor?”

Jungkooks lets out a huff of air before silently nodding his head yes, Hobi giving him a small smile in return, “Thanks Jungkook, now I can actually go to sleep instead of hearing you two bicker,” he says before tapping on his shoulder and going back into his room. You, on the other hand, quickly wipe any droplets that fall from your eyes, closing the door before Hobi could notice the crack that was there.

Jungkook sits in the kitchen chair for a while, reflecting on the lecture Hobi just gave him. Hating that the feeling of guilt was beginning to seep in because unlike Hobi, before his little lecture, Jungkook knew that there had been a pair of ears listening in and he knew you could hear every word that came out of his mouth as your little attempt to crack open the door wasn’t as slick as you thought it was ….he just hadn’t cared.

“Just be decent,” Jungkook whispers to himself before turning off the kitchen lights and heading to bed. The two of you lying in your own beds at night, a lot on each other's mind.

“And to think Hobi ended up predicting everything that was going to happen,” Jungkook shakes his head, remembering his friend’s warning to him.

“That’s our Hobi,” you laugh, “always one step ahead, well when he wants to be of course,” you add, a small chuckle coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in response.

“You think he knew what he was doing the whole time?” Jungkook asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Like in terms of allowing everything to play out, you know? Because if he wanted to he could’ve kicked me out from the beginning…” you ponder on his question for a bit, thinking back to Hobi’s role in this whole tale.

“Mm I think he knew but was probably unsure the whole time, you know? Unsure if things would work out the way he set em up to be, I don’t know if he’ll ever tell us but…” you pause, “I think he knew what he was doing from the moment he told you that you could live with us, and I definitely think it was bullshit on his part when he said that he didn’t know what happened to you in the states,” you laugh because you could picture Hobi doing his own research on Google late at night, “So I guess he just knew that there were two people in his life in desperate need of a…” you look for the right word to describe it.

“Reality check?” Jungkook fills in for you, but you shake your head no.

“Mm,” you hum, “No, I dont think thats the way to put it, hmm, how about this…” you pause one last time before continuing, wanting to make sure you said everything correctly, “Hobi had two pieces to a puzzle that needed to connect together in order to complete said puzzle, but after lots of tosses and turns in their box well the two pieces just didn’t fit together anymore. In fact they refused to even try and fit with another, deciding that they were going to live with their new flaps and dents, and ignoring the fact that in order to complete the puzzle they needed to come together,” you let out a small laugh, “and so Hobi took a gamble, and decided to leave the pieces alone for the time being, in hopes that maybe, just maybe with a little bit more tosses and turns they’d realize that by coming together they’d be left with nothing but a beautiful image to show,” a warm smile appears on your face, “Yeah I think I like how that sounds, what do you think?” you turn to face Jungkook who was staring at you with his doe-eyed expression, completely speechless.

“Or was I too wordy?” you laugh, “I reached didn’t I?” you begin to ramble, “Ah I really need to—” suddenly you feel a cold finger pressed against your lips, Jungkook sounding a tiny “shh” soon after.

“I think it was perfect,” Jungkook softly whispers, what could only be described as a loving smile on his face. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, feeling your cold face get warmed up due to the heat that was rising from your cheeks. Reminding you of a memory from only months ago…

March 2019.

“Remind me why I’m going again?” you walk out of the hallway and into the living room, heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“Because you are tonight’s designated driver,” Hobi reminds you, “and well we all don’t fit in Seokjin’s mini cooper so there’s that,” he laughs. You sigh in return, looking at your reflection for the 100th time tonight. “Jungkook, you almost ready?” Hobi shouts from the living room, not keen on his friend’s habit of always getting ready at the last minute.

Tonight was one of, if not the only, rare occasions that both you and Jungkook would be at an outing together, and even then Hobi was always with you two, acting as the facilitator. Jungkook and you usually parted your separate ways the moment you’d arrive somewhere, especially at parties. And so today you didn’t really expect anything different. 

It had been about a month since Hobi’s little lecture to Jungkook, and in a way it did have some kind of positive effect on Jungkook. These days he was now much more quiet and reserved, and honestly you preferred the cold shoulder over the constant attitude so you were definitely not complaining.

You were even surprised this morning when you found your bathroom products to be completely replaced by new bottles, including your serum! Of course they had been slightly used, meaning Jungkook wasn’t going to let go of his grip on them just yet, but at least it meant that he had the decency to realize that if he was going to be using them all the time, then it was only right that he occasionally paid for them. 

Even last week when you heard him mumble a small, “that was good, thank you,” after making gyeran-mari’s for breakfast, you had to look at Hobi for confirmation that it really happened. Hell, he had even stopped constantly bringing women over, instead beginning to work out more often as you would now hear his grunts come from doing sit ups than from doing um… yeah. It looked like he even had a knack for boxing because you soon noticed how he’d come back home with hands wrapped in bandages or his gloves stringing along his duffel bag. Honestly, it was a little hot, but you’d rather die before admitting that to anyone.

“Ah I’m done, I’m done,” a voice comes out the hallway, Jungkook balancing on his right foot in a rush to put on his left shoe. Tonight he was dressed a little differently than his usual self, replacing his usual black attire and black combat boots for a more club friendly look of ripped blue jeans, black ankle boots, and a black fitted t-shirt. Of course not straying too far from his personal style. The new tattoo he had gotten recently was also in clear view tonight, his sleeve coming along quite nice in your opinion. He had recently even gotten his hair permed, allowing it to grow out longer than what you were used to seeing. It was crazy what a difference hair could make because it definitely made him look … better, in your eyes at least. 

All this change on his part, honestly made you feel a little dull, but that’d be something to dwell on for another day. For now, you just wanted to get tonight over with. The faster you got there, the quicker you could leave, and the earlier you could be in bed.  

“You took a whole ass hour for this?” Hobi eyes Jungkook up and down. Jungkook is quick to shoot him an offended look, while you on the other hand are struggling to suppress a laugh, “I’m not saying you look bad, in fact you look amazing, but this should not take you an hour!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, combing a hand through his hair.

“Are we going to get going or what?” he says, his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

Once you all arrived, you were quick to meet up with the rest of your friends, everyone having pitched in for bottle service. Jungkook, who had become pretty cool with the rest of everyone, sat between Yoongi and Namjoon, all three of them laughing at God knows what. The bottle they had bought almost halfway done. 

You on the other hand, were just watching everyone, the only person besides yourself who wasn’t drunk was Seokjin, and even then he was too busy with his new girlfriend to pay you any attention. Not that you really minded considering she really was a kind person and well who could blame Seokjin for being head over heels. They even shared the same humor, something that was quite rare to find.

You weren’t sure if it was because tonight the club seemed extra packed, or maybe the dress you were wearing was feeling a little too tight or maybe it was the stench of all alcohol getting to you but something definitely fell off. And you did not like it one bit.

“Hey I’m gonna go out back and get some fresh air outside,” you tell Hobi over the music, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement, the boy was clearly very drunk. The moment you stepped out, you definitely did feel better, the crispy fresh air outside almost making you feel as if you were breathing for the first time. That was until you heard the sound of someone arguing.

“I saw you dancing with her! Stop trying to gaslight me into thinking you weren’t!” a woman screams, very much in distress by who you assumed was her boyfriend, “God, I knew I should’ve listened to my mom, you are a pig! And I deserve a man who's going to—

“What did you just say?” he grabs her by the arm, his atrocious grip surely going to cause her a bruise later on.

“Let go of me!” she cries, as he then grabs her by the hair, ready to toss her to the floor and do whatever else he wanted to do with her. You feel your breathing become heavier, watching the scene unfold in front of you, unsure of what to do. You were scared and you didn’t know how to defend yourself, let alone someone else. But you also knew that God forbid you were ever in that situation, you wouldn't want someone turning a blind eye on you, so you did what was only right.

“Hey!” you scream while walking towards the couple, catching the man’s attention, “Let go of her before I—”

“Before you what?” he lets go of her hair, now walking towards you as well. The woman watches you with shaky eyes, having never guessed that her savior would be a woman in black string heels and a face that for the most part was not at all intimidating.

You reach into your purse, hoping to get a feel for either your taser or pocket knife, but of course, of fucking course, on all days of the year it was no where to be found. Nonetheless, you muster up your courage and respond, “Before I call security,” you say, trying your best to sound confident.

He laughs, dramatically looking around to show you that no one around was here to help, “Anyone ever teach you to mind your fucking business, like how a woman should,” you gulp, almost losing balance while taking a step back as he only gets closer, “Huh?! Anyone every fucking teach you that?” he closes in on you, your back soon hitting the wall that was behind you.

“Just leave her alone!” the woman screams in hysteria.

“You stay the fuck out of it! You’re the whole reason she’s in this mess,” he mutters, his words completely slurred and his breath reeking like alcohol. You almost feel like vomiting at the accidental whiff you take because wow was this man just disgusting.

“See maybe if you would’ve just gone about your day, you wouldn’t be here right now,” he makes a ticking sound with his mouth, mocking you, “but” he sighs, “I guess whores just have to stick with each other, huh?” he grabs you by the scalp of your hair, this time not hesitating to throw you to the ground.

“Oh my—” the woman screams, panic flowing through her veins.

“Go!” you yell at her, giving her the chance to escape even if it meant sacrificing your own wellbeing. She hesitates for a moment before running, the sound of her heels tapping against the pavement was one of the last things you could hear before the ringing in your ears became all too much. 

You look at your hands for a moment, the stinging feeling almost unbearable as they had taken most of the impact of the fall, along with your knees. A part of you hoped he had left, that he had somehow magically disappeared or that you’d wake up to find that this was nothing more than a nightmare. But it wasn’t until you felt the grip of his hand on your hair again, that you’d come to realize the reality of your situation and that there was absolutely no one to help you.

The man lifts up his free hand, building power for the punch he was preparing to throw, as you could only throw your arms in front yourself in an attempt to minimize the impact of the punch. By now tears were falling from freely your eyes, small whimpers and sniffles coming out of fear. The final words you hear being spat from his mouth were, “you stupid bitch,” and in your head you count to three, waiting for the feeling of his fist against your face. But it never came.

Instead you feel the release of his hand on your scalp, and when you open your eyes you find him on the ground, not completely knocked out but he might as well be with just how out of it he looked. And though you weren’t drunk, you almost felt as if you were because absolutely everything around you was overlapping, hardly able to see anything in clear focus. But what you could make out was that there was a figure, and by the build you assume was a man, now sitting over the drunkard, throwing several punches at him. His goal was either to knock the man out or make sure he suffered every way possible before knocking him out.  

You stand there for a moment in shock as you hear the person’s voice, a voice that was all too familiar, “I dare you to fucking lay a hand on her again, I fucking dare you!” Jungkook yells, throwing another punch at the man, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” slowly your vision becomes clearer as you wipe away the tears that had been blocking your vision, and soon you realize if Jungkook kept going at the rate he was, the man was going to be killed.

Quickly you run towards Jungkook, attempting to grab his right arm before he swings again, “Jungkook stop!” you yell, but instead he pushes your arm away, too caught up in his rage to think straight. The drunk man looked as if he was barely holding on, blood now all over his face. “I said stop!” you yell at the top of your lungs, the veins on your neck popping. Jungkook, panting, looks up at you, momentarily stopping. “Just stop,” you cry, wanting this nightmare to be over.

Jungkook looks at the barely conscious man one more time, pulling him by the collar of his shirt so that he’d get a good look of him, “If I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to—”

“Jungkook,” you stop him from finishing his sentence.

He sighs, “Just be glad she’s here because scum like you deserve to fucking rot,” he says, letting go of the man’s collar and allowing his head to hit the pavement. He gets up from his position and begins to pat his black shirt of any dirt, catching his breath along the way. “You okay?” he asks, intensely staring at you.

But before you could respond, a voice screams, “Hey!” the two of you look up at said voice, only to find a security guard with a flashlight in his hand and his walky talky on the other.

Jungkook quickly grabs you by the hand, causing you to wince at the sudden touch, “Come on,”  he says, pulling you to follow him.

He leads you back to the parking lot, confusion evidently on your face. It wasn’t until you turned back to find several security guards following after you that everything began to click together, panic now flowing through your veins. Hurriedly, you grab Hobi’s keys from your purse and unlock the door, your heart beating out of your chest.

Jungkook quickly hops in the passenger seat, his head throbbing from the amount of drinks he’s had, watching as you struggle to put the key in the ignition, clearly in a state of anxiousness. He yanks the keys from your hands and places them in himself, “Now drive!” he shouts, causing you to step ferociously on the gas pedal. Burning tire as you race off the parking lot.  

“God my head is fucking killing me,” Jungkook complains, his blood stained hands resting on his temple. By now the two of you were heading back home, Jungkook having texted Hobi through your phone that he was going to have to get a ride from Seokjin. For the situation you two were just in had required an immediate escape.

You on the other hand were driving in complete silence, still in a state of shock of what just happened. Jungkook having to constantly remind you that you were driving, several instances of you zoning out at a stop light happening way too often for his liking.

“I am way too drunk for this shit,” he mutters under his breath, the reality of what just happened beginning to kick in. The queasy feeling in his stomach became more and more unbearable with every turn you took. And don’t even get him started on his throat, which was currently as dry as the Sahara Desert. “Is there some kind of water in this car?” he asks, beginning to look through the car console and glove compartment.

“I don’t,” you pause and sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Then pull over here,” he deadpans.

You furrow your brows in confusion, “What?”

“Pull over,” he repeats, his patience running out.

Not questioning him a second time, you do exactly that, pulling over at the side of some park near your apartment. Jungkook takes in a deep breath before opening the door and sticking his head out, seconds later the sound of him vomiting making you feel as queasy as he did.

“Oh God,” you mumble to yourself, just wanting to be in bed already. But of course that wasn’t going to happen because soon enough Jungkook was getting out of the car and going to God knows where. “Where are you going?” you shout, as he walks towards the park.

“I need water,” he says, “You coming or what?” you contemplate on whether to follow him or not, before ultimately exiting the car and locking it. With the way he was stumbling his footsteps, it was better safe than sorry to follow him.

“BogoShipda!” Jungkook sings loudly to the trees in the park, all of the alcohol he drank at the club still running through his system. You stare at him in surprise, having never seen him act like this before, as he continues to sing.

“Now where’s a water fountain when you need one,” he mumbles, the darkness of the night sky making it hard for him to scan his surrounding area. You found yourself feeling a little scared in fact. The silhouette of the trees and the sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches only making the atmosphere more scary.

“Ah there it is!” Jungkook slurs his words, sounding like a kid at a carnival. Once he’s in front of the fountain, he pushes against the button, the water sprouting out of the fountainhead. You stare at him in silence as he hadn’t crouched down to drink yet, thus confusing you.

It wasn’t until you felt a tug at your hand and the sting of the water hitting against your scrapes that you felt like punching him. “What are you doing?” you ask, trying your best not to sound too peeved.

He looks at you before rolling his eyes, “What do you think I’m doing? I’m cleaning your hands,” he signals for you to give him your other hand, and without thinking you comply.

“I could’ve done this at home,” you say.

“I know, but the longer we wait the higher chance it'll end up getting infected by dirt so,” he looks at you with a know it all expression, and you mumble a small “I guess,” under your breath, the stinging sensation soon enough replaced by a cool one, your hands no longer feeling as rusty.

It isn’t until he’s finished that he takes a sip of water, exhaling a small “ahh” sound after downing several gulps. “Come on,” he grabs your hand again, leading you to a park bench with a small lamppost right next to it, providing a smooth yellow dim light.

“Why are we—”

“I just want to sit for a moment without the movement of a car, just for a bit,” he exhales a heavy breath, manspreading on the bench and throwing his head back, “just for a bit,” he repeats, his voice soft.

The two of you sit there in silence, “Why are you staring at me?” he asks with his eyes closed, feeling your intense stare.  

“I’m not—I’m not staring,” you stutter, he hums in response. Silence fills the air again, until Jungkook mumbles something that at first is inaudible.

“What?” you ask.

“I said I’m ˢᵒʳʳʸ,” you look at him confused, were you hearing him correctly?

“Wait what?” you ask again, it wasn’t your intention to come off as pushy nor pretentious but you were just seriously surprised as to what you were hearing.

He grumbles before repeating himself, “I said,” he drops his shoulders, “I said I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes to look at you, his usual smug behavior nowhere to be found on his face, he was being completely serious.

“Oh…” you pause for a moment before continuing, “Can I ask for what? I’m not trying to be mean or anything or act dense. I seriously just don’t know why,” you make sure you add those claims at the end, feeling as if you were walking on eggshells.

He looks at you momentarily before placing his view on the trees in front of you, “For not getting there earlier,” he mutters, as if disappointed with himself, “I went out because Hobi had told me to go check up on you, but,” he stays silent for a moment before continuing, clenching his jaw, “at first I sorta shrugged him off when he asked me, it wasn’t until he asked me second time that I actually went outside,” his voice shakes a bit and you notice that his eyes become slightly glossy, “and then a woman came running up to me rambling about someone about to get beaten up, but the last person I thought she was talking about was you,” he exhales loudly before continuing, trying his best to maintain his composure, “but either way I ran towards wherever she was pointing at, and that’s when I saw you on the floor,” his voice cracks, “and I just keep replaying everything in my head, and I just—” he closes his eyes and shakes his head, “I’m just sorry and I felt like you deserved to know that,” he concludes, a tear falling from his face.

And maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe he just really did feel bad, but to see Jungkook this vulnerable was different to say the least. It was almost humanizing in some aspects.

Jungkook expected you to scream at him, to tell him that it was his fault you were put in that situation. That he could’ve prevented it from happening, that because of him you almost got beat to a bloody pulp.

No, in fact he doesn't expect you to, he wants you to. It’s what he deserves to hear from you. Had it not been for him and his ego, he would’ve gone out there the moment Hobi had asked him to, and you would’ve never had to deal with that drunk excuse of a human being to begin with. Or was the alcohol in his system just seriously getting to him because God did he feel sick.

“Jungkook it’s not your fault,” you begin, but Jungkook who's still looking at the trees, refuses to make eye contact. “Hey look at me,” you demand, tugging his hand in an effort to get him to look at you. When he does so, you continue, “That man was going to attack me whether you came or not because a weak man like that will attack the easiest target,” you state, a small chuckle escaping your lips, “It was no one’s fault but his, you hear me?” you squeeze his hand, “Not yours, not mine, not Hobi’s, not the lady, no one. Absolutely no one.”

More tears begin to fall from his bloodshot eyes, “You don’t get it y/n,” he shakes his head, “You don’t what that man could’ve done to you in that time I wasn’t there, you could’ve been killed for God’s sake,” he attempts to say it firmly, but his voice betrays him by whimpering in the end.

“But he didn’t!” you say, and without thinking you place his hand on your cheek, “I’m right here look! All because of you! Yeah you didn’t get there as early as you wished you could’ve, but you got there nonetheless! And if you hadn’t I probably would be sporting a big old black eye on my face and have one cheek bigger than the other right now. I’d look like one of those chipmunks from Alvin and the Chipmunks!” you laugh at your own joke, and for the first time ever, Jungkook laughs with you. His last first starting off as a small chuckle but the harder you laughed, the harder he did. The beginning to what would be you always hearing his high pitched laugh around the apartment, but let’s not get too far ahead right now.

They say when a human is drunk, they muster up the courage to do something they’d never do sober, but have always thought of doing in the back of their mind. It was often why people would blame a bold text to an ex on being “drunk” despite not taking one sip of their tequila shot, or why some people would excuse cheating on being “drunk” despite knowing it was something they wanted to do for a very long time. They were looking for an excuse to finally do it. And so now sitting here, with his hand caressed across your face, goofy grins plastered on your faces, he felt tempted to just kiss you.

It was weird really, yeah he thought you were cute, in fact there were days he’d found you hot, but anything past physical attraction had never really crossed his mind. To him, you’d always been and currently were his roommate who he found both superficial and performative. 

The one who once attempted to hide her strawberry scented shampoo in her room during work, in hopes that he wouldn’t go out of his way to find it. The one who liked her jjolmyeon more on the sour side than the sweet. The one who occasionally made him coffee and breakfast in the mornings, despite him being asleep after a long night of work of barristering. The one who for some odd reason almost never watched Netflix on the TV, but instead would watch it on her laptop on the couch, thus rendering the TV completely useless.

And so to be here, finally appreciating the person that you were after what could’ve been a near-death experience was a bit of a wake up call. And yeah like you said, maybe he didn’t get here as early as he should’ve been, but he got here nonetheless. He smiles to himself, your words having a double meaning behind them.

But for now he wanted to preserve this feeling, because he knew he was drunk. He was so drunk that the tree behind you was beginning to look like it was moving towards him. And so rather than kiss you, he instead decides to simply tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, deciding that if he felt like this tomorrow morning when he was sober then it’d be something worth looking into.

“I’m telling you, if I ever see that man again—”

“It was like,” you count on your fingers, “9 months ago Jungkook, I doubt you even remember his face,” you cut off, patting his shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, “you’d be surprised how good I am at remembering faces, so when I tell you I’m still waiting for the day I come across him again, I mean it!” you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you sing,  “Hey at least something good came out of it,” you smile.

Jungkook looks at you with uncertainty, “Which is?”

Your small smile then becomes a toothy grin, “We became friends!” you exclaim excitedly, “temporarily at least,” you laugh.

April 2019.

It had been about two weeks since the incident at the club. Jungkook having completely avoided you since, and no you weren’t paranoid because originally you thought you were. It first started off with you not seeing him at all around the apartment, which you excused with you two having different work schedules like always. But then you’d notice he wouldn’t even drink the coffee you would make for him in the morning, it being left there on the counter for the entire day. 

And in the very rare moments you did manage to get a glimpse of him in the hallway either entering or exiting his room, the boy would completely avoid eye contact with you! But the final confirmation that told you he was avoiding you? He had bought his own shampoo and body wash for himself! Not just any kind, he bought an extra lather version of your own with exfoliating properties. And you didn’t if you could use it or not because, well because he was avoiding you! 

It wasn’t like you two kissed or anything! The most that happened was that you two shared a laugh! So then why was he avoiding you like the freaking plague? After a week of thinking about every possible reason he could be, you had given up. You’d accepted that you were back at square one with him, but it wasn’t like you were ever at square two to begin with. And so that’s why yesterday when Hobi told you he’d be going on a morning/afternoon hike trip on Saturday with Namjoon, you were skeptical on how Jungkook would manage to avoid you.

It was also why this morning in bed, when you heard what sounded like furniture being moved at 7 in the freaking morning, you were unsure about getting up and saying something or remaining in bed. Luckily you didn’t have to think about it for too long because you soon heard the sound footsteps coming closer to your bedroom door. As a result, you quickly threw yourself under the covers and pretended to be asleep.

It definitely had to be Jungkook who had just entered your room, the heavy footsteps acting as a signal to you that it was. Your eyes widen when you hear the sound of your drawer being pulled open, “What the hell did he think he was doing? Should you turn around and scare him? Hmm. No,” you think to yourself because soon enough you felt a hand gently shake your body.

“Y/N,”  he whispers, clearly in belief that you were asleep. You let him shake you around a little more, just to make your little “I’m just waking up” act a little more believable, “Y/N,” he repeats, and this time you begin to make groggy sounds. Actress of the Year Award : Check.

“Mm,” you hum, but you’re quickly jolted awake when you feel your covers get pulled off of you, “What are you—” you look up at Jungkook, who was dressed in complete workout gear. But what really had you concerned, was the workout clothing he had folded in his hands because well they were yours.

He tosses the matching pair of black leggings and sports bra, “Go change,” he sternly says, only causing you to look at him in further confusion.

“B-b-but-” Jungkook knows you’re about to not only complain, but ask many many questions. Because that’s just the type of person you are.

“Hobi told me you like buttermilk pancakes with extra syrup, but that since yours always come out burnt and his come out too dull, that the only time you get to eat them is if you go to a breakfast restaurant,” you narrow your eyes at him, confused as to where this was leading to, “Well at the coffee shop I work at, we have a weekly Pancake Tuesday and well let’s just say a certain someone has been rated top pancake maker for 2 months now,” you quirk your brow in interest, continuing to listen, a smirk now on his face, “and let’s also say this certain someone has a stack of warm pancakes sitting there on the kitchen island, untouched and certainly uneaten.”

You quickly smile at what he was insinuating, “BUT you can only eat them if you get up, get ready and change in 5 minutes,” he looks at the clock, “starting now.” And in the blink of an eye you were up and running towards your restroom because certainly if that didn’t get you up and out of bed, he wasn’t sure what would.

Quickly you brush your teeth and fix up your hair a bit, curious to know what Jungkook had planned out. To think you thought he was avoiding you! Well he was … but that doesn’t matter anymore! Placing your shoes on you begin to make your way towards the living room, the thought of eating those buttermilk pancakes almost making your mouth drool. That was until you stepped into the living room, stopping dead in your tracks.

Your eyes glaze over everything, blinking veryyy slowly, in order to make sure you were seeing things correctly. Jungkook had transformed your living room into some kind of um … workout center? For boxing? He had everything from the red punching bag, the reflex bag, the speed ball, jump rope, mini dumbbells, and most importantly boxing mitts for some one-on-one training. Everything was an adequate enough size to fit in all into the living room, but not too big in a way that it couldn’t be stored in the extra closet you had in the hallway.

“Why did you—” Jungkook hands you a pair of shiny black boxing gloves, along with bandages.

“I’m going to teach you the basics of boxing,” he presses his lips together, “whether you like it or not,” he says.

“Jungkook I don’t thin—”

“You don’t think what?” he looks at you in a way that tells you he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m not really cut out for this kind of stuff,” you try to make an excuse for yourself anyway, but he wasn’t buying it.

“Because you have no experience, which is exactly why I’m going to teach you,” his brows draw together, a stern look on his face as he now makes eye contact with you, “You can’t just always expect someone to pop out of thin air and come to your rescue y/n, what happened two weeks ago was a mix of both good timing and sheer luck,” he sighs while pulling out a taser and pocket knife from his pocket, “and though this is helpful in many situations, you seem to forget to take these with you,” he scolds, “guess where they were the night at the club?” You stay silent, “the kitchen island,” he answers for you.

“Okay I get it, I get it,” you say, “I need to learn how to protect myself without using those,” you point to the items in his hand.

“Exactly, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he playfully pats your head, “so we’ll be doing this every weekend for the next eight weeks, from 7AM till 2PM. We might even throw an occasional weekday night in there if I don’t get out of work too late.”

“7AM?!” you shriek, “Oh no no no, you sir are crazy,” you protest, shaking your head in denial, “No amount of pancakes will have me waking up that early every weekend.”

“Oh come on! The more hours you do, the better you’ll get!” he bargains with you, catching you off guard by throwing his arm around your shoulder, your cheeks going red as a result.

“Jungkook,” you dramatically cry out, ready to stomp your feet on the floor like a little kid, the only thing preventing you was you not wanting the downstairs neighbors to come up and complain.

He tightens his grip on you, “Come onnnnn,” he sings, “I’ll let you use my new body wash with the exfoliating properties,” he teases you, having heard you complain to Hobi one morning about being unsure of whether or not you could use it. You truly were too kind for your own good, cause if the situations were reversed, Jungkook would’ve just gone ahead and used it.

You narrow your eyes at him once again, “More like you’re buying me one of my own!” you demand and he nods in agreement, “Also, where did you even manage to get all this?” you ask, genuinely curious as to how he managed to buy all this.

“Um let’s just say I have a buddy at the boxing gym who didn’t really need these anymore,” you stare at him suspiciously, but decide to shrug it off. You’d ask him more questions some other day, but for now all you wanted was to eat those pancakes!

Hobi opens the door to his shared apartment, exhausted from the hike he just had this morning and honestly ready to just hop into bed and sleep. That was until he saw the transformation of his living room in front of his very own eyes, his skin paling and mouth gaping in shock.

“What the—” he whispers, preparing to scream out your names like a parent walking in their house only to find it destroyed by their teenagers, but before he could the sound of something stops him dead in his tracks. It was the sound of soft snores.

Walking towards the sound, which seemed to be coming from the long couch, a smile immediately appears on his face when he comes to see the view in front of him. You were on one side of the couch while Jungkook was on the other, both of your feet stretched out and touching in the middle, napping away. Hobi personally thought he was dreaming, this being a view he never thought he’d see.

Wanting to preserve the memory, he grabs his phone from his pocket and opens up the camera app, snapping the photo in silence, tempted to edit and post the photo with little clouds above each other's heads and make up some witty caption. But he’d save it for some other day. For now, he was just happy you two were finally getting along.

“Ah I had forgotten how that photo came to be,” Jungkook laughs, looking at the photo on your Iphone screen, “you were tired from working out, while I was tired from having to watch you continuously mess around with the equipment,” he pokes fun at you. Not like it wasn’t true, that day you kept going back to the speed ball, aimlessly hitting it in hopes that at some point you’d magically become fast at hitting it like in the movies.

“Hey, I’m pretty decent at doing everything now,” you flash him a cheesy smile. After several weeks of consistent training and long hours, you were definitely at a point where you could adequately defend yourself from someone ranging from a small petite woman to around a medium sized man. Luckily, you haven't come across a situation that has required you to to do so nor do you ever hope to, but it was comforting to know that if something ever did happen, then you were ready. But, your taser and pocket knife would always be your first go to, no matter what.

“You’re…” Jungkook pauses, “okay,” he breathes, huffing a quiet laugh. Out of impulse you flash him the finger, showing off your freshly manicured fingers. “Aren’t you rude,” he says with a dramatic gasp.

You roll your eyes, “You’re the one who taught me,” you laugh, and Jungkook places his hand on his chest, looking at you with a dramatic offended look on his face.

“Me?” he feigns his surprise.

“Yes you! How could I forget,” you look at him accusingly.

“No I taught you how to stop faking a smile, and to start putting a foot down people’s neck,” he shrugs, “not to go sticking out the middle finger,” he jokes, and you only roll your eyes again, grumbling a small  “Mm.”

May 2019.

To your surprise, you had been managing to consistently wake up and work out every weekend with Jungkook, with him even being able to up your usual workout plan at a drastic rate. You’d shed a couple of pounds and to your surprise could even see some muscle beginning to form, but today, well today was your monthly lazy day.

Lazy day was the one day of the month where you and Hobi would push everything off your schedule, from calling off of work, to making sure everything in the apartment was clean, and buying snacks the night before in order to make sure you wouldn’t have to step out of the apartment. It was usually picked the month before by either you or Hobi closing your eyes and randomly pointing somewhere on the calendar, and whatever day your index finger managed to land on would be the day. And well today was that day.

But when Hobi told you yesterday night that a family emergency was going to have to bring lazy day to a temporary halt because he had to drive back to Busan, which in itself was a three hour trip from Seoul, you had already called the day off weeks prior as your job wasn’t as lenient on last minute call offs. The contract you signed stating in small print, “any day off must be requested, sent in, and approved 2 weeks prior to the date said employee is asking for.”

And so this morning when Jungkook entered your room to find you completely knocked out with drool coming out of your mouth, he was surprised to say the least. On weekday mornings, he would almost always wake up to find himself alone in the apartment considering both you and Hobi have day jobs, so hearing snores come out of your room had definitely caught him off guard.

He debated on whether he should be annoying and wake you up and then force you to work out or be a nice roommate and make you breakfast. Let’s just say he didn’t choose the latter. Grabbing one of the stuffed animals that you weren’t hugging, he throws it at your head, a grunt coming out of your mouth after.

“Jungkook,” you mutter, morning voice in full effect, “let me sleep please,” you say, switching to the other side, in hopes that he’d leave.

“No, you need to work out,” he says, beginning to nag.

Turning around again, this time to face him, you look at him with your eyes half-way open, “Today’s lazy day,” you deadpan, his eyes narrow in confusion.

“What the hell is, quote on quote, lazy day?” he asks, lifting a brow. Rubbing your eyes along with eye boogers in the corners, you begin to stretch your arms and legs, not caring if he was staring.

Sighing once you were ready to respond, you then answer, “Lazy day is the one day of the month that me and Hobi take a day off of work to well … be lazy,” he stares at you with an innocent look on his face, “butttttt,” a mischievous smile appears on your face, “since Hobi cancelled on me, now you’re going to be lazy partner for the day.” His face twists in bewilderment.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, go call the café, and tell em you’re taking the day off,” you smile, now getting up from bed.

“And why would I do that?” Jungkook asks, the question coming off a little harsher than intended, but you were quick to shrug it off, already accustomed to the occasional attitude.

“Becauseeeeee,” you sing, “When was the last time you’ve taken a day off, I mean look at you right now! You’re already dressed comfortably,” you eye him up and down, he was currently in work out clothing which for him consisted of an oversized grey sweater and joggers, “do you really wanna get all sweaty and then have to shower, change, and go to work… cause I don’t think you do,” you raise your eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner as he avoids eye contact with you.

His eyes look around your room, clearly thinking to himself. A lazy day huh? Hmm you did make a point, he really couldn’t remember the last time he’s just lounged around and done nothing, as he was always doing something whether it be working out, working, going out, etc.

He looks back at you once he’s made his decision, letting out a huff of air, “Fine,” he says, grabbing his phone from his pocket, preparing to dial the coffee shop, a tiny squeal coming from you.

“I thought lazy day meant no going out,” Jungkook complains while pushing the grocery cart around, following you and your need to go up and down each and every aisle at the store.

“It does, but since Hobi and I couldn’t go grocery shopping the night before,” you grab some strawberry lemonade from the freezer and place it in the cart, “someone has to help carry the groceries up the stairs,” you catch him rolling his eyes, “your eyes will get stuck up there if you keep doing that,” you comment, grabbing packaged ramen from the counter beside you.

“Yeah, Yeah—” Jungkook stares at what’s in your hands wide eyed, “No, no, no! What are you doing?” You jump in surprise, dropping the package on the floor.

“Wh-what?” your face flushes in surprise, his outburst completely catching you off guard.

“Shin Ramyun?! What happened to getting Paldo Bibimmyeon?! Do you have no loyalty?” he scrunches his face up, in clear distress at what he just caught you doing. At first you don’t think he’s serious, this being some stupid joke he was making, but once you got a glimpse of the stare he was giving you, you’d soon come to realize that he was not playing around at all.

“It’s be-be-because,” you begin to stutter under his scrutiny, “these are buy three, get two free,” you lopsidedly smile, an awkward laugh feigning from your lips.  He shakes his head, snatching the ramen from your hands and placing it on its original spot before then grabbing his Paldo Bibimmyeon.

“Choosing price over quality, are you crazy?” he mutters under his breath before pushing the cart past you and making his way to the checkout line, leaving you there momentarily flabbergasted.

Once you caught up to him you were ready to tell him something until you heard the sound of someone calling your name, “Y/N?” you turn around, surprised to see Jimin in the line next to you.

“Oh Jimin!” you smile, softly waving at the newly blonde-haired boy, his roots telling you that the hair job was recent. Jimin offers his hand out to Jungkook. Jungkook, at first hesitant, shakes it in return, “You remember Jimin, right? He was with us on New Years, he was supposed to come partying with us last time, but he flaked last minute,” Jungkook slowly nods remembering the boy wrapping his arm around you during the countdown while Jimin on the other hand raises his hands to his defense.

“Even a person like me can get burnt out every here and then,” he laughs, “but next time I’ll be sure to be on the dance floor,” he winks at you, his natural flirty personality making its appearance. Jungkook awkwardly coughs, pushing the cart forward to get your attention back in the moving line.

You feel your hands get a bit clammy, Jimin always being someone you did have a bit of a crush on, never pursuing anything because of your long-term friendship with him. But of course that didn’t mean he didn’t get an occasional blush out of you here and there. “So how have you been since the last time I saw you? It’s been quite a while—”

And just as you’re about to answer, Jungkook interrupts, “Y/N,” he says, nudging you to tell you that it was time to pay.

“Ah I guess I’ll just see you around then,” Jimin chuckles, waving a small goodbye.

“O-oh yeah I guess I—”

“Y/N,” Jungkook repeats, unbeknownst to you, the green eyed monster was beginning to make its appearance. Any longer and horns would probably start sprouting out his ears.

Once you two finish paying and bagging everything, you walk towards Jungkook’s new black Hyundai which he had bought only a couple of weeks ago after months of what he calls “busting his ass” off and using most of his savings up for. You hum a tiny tune while helping him place all the bags in the trunk.

“So…” Jungkook awkwardly begins, second guessing whether he should continue asking the question he had in his mind before deciding to just do it anyway, “Is that like your boyfriend or something?”

Immediately you stop humming, staring at Jungkook wide-eyed, “Oh no, no!” you quickly deny, “No, No, no,” you repeat, shaking your head. The redness of your cheeks tell another story.

“Hm,” Jungkook mumbles, “sorta looked like it,” he deadpans before going to put the cart in its designated spot, leaving you there confused as to what that meant. 

After a couple of hours of lounging around in the apartment and binging Narcos: Mexico on the TV rather than your laptop because of Jungkook’s complaints, the two of you were now eating your ramen on the kitchen island, quietly seated on the tall chairs. The sound of Jungkook slurping his noodles filling the room.

“What did you mean by Jimin being my boyfriend or something?” you suddenly ask out of nowhere, the question having been on your mind for a majority of the day.

Jungkook takes a final gulp of his food before responding, “I don’t know,” he nonchalantly shrugs, “you were gawking at him like a schoolgirl seeing her crush in the hallway,” he says, “thought you two had something going on, or at least on your part,” he reiterates.  

“I did not stare at him like some schoolgirl!” you deny, taking offense to his analogy, “He’s j-jus—”

“J-just someone you clearly have a crush on,” he mocks your flusteredness, “I see and here a part of me thought it thought it was two-sided,” he smirks.

“It’s not sided on either way,” you protest, “Jimin is just a friend,” you clarify, putting your foot down.  

“How do you even know the dude?” he asks. He knew you and Hobi met during college, and that Hobi was in some club with Yoongi and Namjoon which explains how you met them. He also knew that Seokjin and Taehyung came into the picture after some college frat party, but Jimin, well he didn’t know too much about Jimin. Just that he clearly felt comfortable enough to have his arm around you during New Years.

“I met him during my first year of performing at Busan Arts College, that was before I transferred to Seoul National where I’d then meet Hobi,” Jungkook’s ears perk up, several questions now running through his head.

“An arts college? In Busan?”

“Yeah, like a school for dance majors, drawing, theatre, music, film, modelling, sports, interior design, animation, and et cetera,” you smile softly while explaining, “I was an art major, painting to be specific, and along the scopes of watercolors and abstractness.”

Jungkook hums, his curiosity still not completely fulfilled, “So why’d you transfer?” he asks the big question.

“Oh..” you know you shouldn’t be, but for some reason you are slightly taken back by his blunt question, “because..” you sigh, “um something happened that well um I just thought it’d be best to transfer, and well my math skills weren’t too rusty for the entrance exam and my credits were exceptional for transferring and so I just took the leap and left. Met Hobi, we became roommates, decided to stay roommates even after graduating and well now I’m an accountant.”

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, surprised that there was more to you than meets the eye. He would’ve never guessed that you were into painting, “I stayed in touch with Jimin, introduced him to my new group of friends and well yeah, that’s that,” you finish explaining, “He was a dance major, just in case you were curious,” you add, “He now works at a contemporary dance company here in Seoul, very deep with connections in the arts industry,” So that’s who Jimin was huh? Cool... but now Jungkook was much more curious about you.

“Do you ever paint?” he asks another question, completely finished with his meal and at this point only staying for the conversation. It was weird, had it been anyone else asking you these questions you wouldn't have dared entertain it any further, probably finding some way to maneuver out of it. But for Jungkook to ask whether it be from a place of nosiness or simple curiosity, hell maybe even boredom, for some reason you just didn’t mind.

“Um not really, not anymore at least, especially these days that work is beginning to pile up but,” you hesitate for a moment before continuing, “I still have some of my old work somewhere under my bed, probably in a storage box knowing me.”

“Can I see them?”

And just as you’re about to answer, your phone’s ringing sound goes off. The person calling? Jimin. You hesitate to answer, glancing at Jungkook who was staring at your phone, presumably reading the name. Once he does, he looks at you in a way that was asking, “Are you going to pick up?”

You click the green button to accept, “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, unsure if it was you.

“Yes?”

“Hey! Um so I was actually meaning to call for quite a while,” Jungkook tries his best not to make it obvious that he’s listening in, “and so when I ran into you and your friend at the market it served as a complete reminder.”

“Oh what for?” you ask politely.

“Well I was hoping we could catch up over some dinner, and then I could tell you something very important that I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time,” From Jimin? “I was thinking this Saturday like at 7? I’ll pick you up.”  

“Oh um..” for some reason you look at Jungkook for advice, but he just stares at you with his eyebrows furrowed, “Yeah sure, why not?” you awkwardly laugh.

“Perfect, I’ll see you then! Byeeeee,” he sings before clicking, leaving you on the line. Did that call really just happen? Or were just imagining things?  

“I think—” you gulp, “I think I have a date this Saturday?” you say unsurely, a small dumbfounded smile beginning to appear on your face.

He notices the goofy smile beginning to appear on your face, before letting out a large exasperated breath and feigning his best smile. The forced smile comes out quite awkward, “With Park Jimin?” Park Jimin your college friend. Park Jimin, the successful contemporary dancer. Park Jimin, the one who looked like he came straight out of a magazine cover. That Park Jimin? Jungkook on the other hand could feel his eyebrow impulsively twitch in response, the green eyed monster creeping from behind, ready to make its return.

You nod your head yes, Jungkook now getting up from the chair, a negative energy now around him. “So much for it being a zero sided thing,” he mutters before practically throwing his dish into the sink and stomping out the kitchen, leaving you completely by yourself.

“Weird,” you think to yourself before heading off to bed.

Saturday had surprisingly arrived in the blink of an eye despite the extra hours of working out Jungkook had thrown in the morning. It was almost as if the boy wanted you to be on your date exhausted and halfway knocked out. Out of nowhere, deciding that today was the best day to start working on more leg targeted exercises, as a result your legs now felt like jell-o with every step you took.

“I’m gonna get going you guys,” you announce to the boys in the living room, who were currently on the couch watching an episode of One Piece.

Hobi turns his attention from the screen to look at you, immediately smiling at your outfit, “Ahh look at you,” he compliments, Jungkook on the other hand or silently watches you as you grab your keys from the countertop. “Doesn’t she look pretty Jungkook?” Hobi asks, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook remains silent, which oddly enough resulted in a heavy feeling in your chest. “Now she’s sad!” Hobi scolds, “Tell her she looks pretty,” Hobi pushes Jungkook’s shoulder this time.

“You look…” Jungkook pauses, and for a moment both you and Hobi hold your breath, for Jungkook’s mouth was quite unpredictable sometimes, “You look more than pretty,” he says with a warm look on his face before catching himself and going back to his usual expressionless face and turning his attention back to the screen. Hobi who looks like he’s about to tease the hell out Jungkook once you leave, struggles to hide the big grin on his face. While you, well you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat.  

“Well get going now! And don’t come back too late!” Hobi teases, loving the persona of acting like a parent a little too much.

Was thinking about your roommate regular for a date? Because that’s what you found yourself doing … a lot. From the moment you had stepped into Jimin’s car your immediate comparison was to Jungkook’s own car. Once he started driving, your mind went to how unlike Jimin who drove with both hands on the steering wheel, Jungkook liked driving with one. More specifically his left. 

And of course being on a date you expect conversation to be flowing all around even when you’re waiting on the food, but for some reason you had become so used to Jungkook always being silent until he was nearly finished with his food, that when Jimin began to make conversation while waiting definitely felt … odd for you to say the least. And don’t even get you started on what he ended up ordering. Well done steak?! Jungkook hated well done steak, preferring medium rare over anything. And so to say your roommate had been constantly on your mind this whole time was a bit of an understatement. 

Currently the two of you were walking on the bridge of a local park, the several number of lampposts and people all around you making it less scary than compared to that night at the park with Jungkook. “So Y/N how’s your year been so far?” Jimin asks, a pleasant smile on his face.

“It’s been,” you pause, thinking about the person who came into your life only months ago, “it’s been pretty good.”

“That’s good to hear, that’s good to hear,” he repeats, the two of you now sitting on a bench, “So I know I told you I had some important news,” he begins, “and it’s something I’ve been really wanting to talk to you about for a very long time,” he insinuates, “and so if you could close your eyes for a moment that’d be great,” you do as follows, and close your eyes, Your heart begins to race but it wasn’t the same kind of racing you felt that night at the park with Jungkook. It was more of a “what am I doing here?” kind of nervousness so to speak. Nonetheless you shrug the feeling off.

Jimin, who was originally supposed to be getting an exhibition flyer out of his coat, notices that you have what looks to be a leaf in your hair. Deciding that it was bothering him too much he goes and reaches for it, surprised to be in contact with your lips seconds later. Quickly he pulls away, staring at you wide eyed. Both of your faces now tomato red, as he struggles to form words.

Eyes still widened, he pulls out the folded paper from jacket, once unfolded it reads, “Seoul City’s Annual Public Art Exhibition with a special performance by Seoul’s Contemporary Dance Academy choreographed by Park Jimin.”

“Oh my God—” you manage to breath out, coming to the realization that kissing you was not his attention.

He scratches the back of his neck, “I um, yeah, I’m this year’s choreographer for the city's art exhibition and well I managed to get you a slot so that you could have your very first art piece exhibited,” Jimin feigns an awkward smile, “You know since you’re a painter first before an accountant.” You, still hung up on what was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life, stare at him in complete silence. Everything barely registering in your head.

“Y/N…” he begins the dreadful pity speech by grabbing your hand, “I um,” he lets out an awkward chuckle before continuing, “I like you, I do, but not in that way…”

In the movies, this is where you’re supposed to feel as if your world was crashing down on you, the part where your heart is supposed to sink in complete sadness and you go home a complete crying mess. But rather than feel any of those things, you instead feel …. relief? Yeah, you kissing the boy was embarrassing, but it wasn’t something that was gonna haunt you for the rest of your life. Maybe for a week or two, but not definitely not the rest of your life.

Jimin wonders what’s going through your mind, the apparent smile that suddenly grew on your face telling him that things were going to be just fine, “I sorta um had my eyes on someone else in our friend group…” and with that he gets your attention because you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Taehyung,” you say, and Jimin silently nods, a laugh emitting from both of your lips.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you even agreed to go out with me, that Jungkook dude seemed like was going to lunge at me any second over there at the supermarket,” Jimin says, “I thought you two were a thing at first.”  

You laugh in disbelief, “Me and Jungkook?” you say, scrunching your face.

“Um yeah, it’s not really something shocking,” Jimin laughs, “I mean you two definitely looked like a couple that day, very much doing um couple-like things. Maybe not affectionate wise but I don’t know there were definitely looks and glances being exchanged. But if you say there’s nothing between you two then who am I to argue?” Jimin shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his face.

“Exactly, who are you to argue,” you dramatically snarl, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter.

“So y/n what do you say about participating in the art exhibition? You know you want toooo,” Jimin sings, pouting his lips. You had forgotten about that for a moment, the embarrassment of the kiss completely fazing you out.

“Oh I don’t know,” you nervously say, you hadn’t seriously painted in such a long time, that chapter in your life being a closed book for quite some time now.

“But y/n—” Jimin begs, “This could be the moment you’ve been waiting for, there’s going to be a lot of professional artists there along with buyers.”

“I just—” something was holding you back from saying yes. Was it fear? Maybe. All you knew was that you couldn't dive into something that you had long given up on, “I don’t think I can,” you ultimately say.

Jimin frowns, “You sure? I can’t hold the slot for too long, and well I was so sure you’d say yes..” You sigh before nodding, confirming that you were saying no.

“Ah okay,” Jimin says, completely understanding, “Come on let’s get you home,” to which you nod, a small sad smile on your face.

By the time you got back home, you wondered if the boys’ were asleep already, hoping at least one of them was awake to talk to, more specifically Hobi, for he always knew what to say when you needed comfort. And so when you opened the door to find the TV still on, but no one in the living room, you were confused to say the least.

You walk towards Hobi’s room, crack open the door, and peep your head in only to find him sound asleep. Did that mean Jungkook was up? Maybe someone just forgot to turn off the TV… with your curiosity getting the best of you, you decide to go Jungkook’s room and check if he was there. With your hand on the knob, you begin to twist it, slowly opening the door until a voice scares you from behind, “What are you doing?” he harshly whispers causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” you whisper as well, closing his door immediately, “I-I-I thought you were,” you point at his door, unable to complete your sentence.

“I was peeing,” he says, “Did you not see the light on?”

Shaking your head no, you ask, “What are you even doing up this late?”

Jungkook awkwardly stammers, “I um, I just couldn’t sleep,” he says instead of admitting that secretly he was waiting for you to arrive, just to make sure you were safe. Nothing else of course, not like he wanted to know how your date went… “Why are you going into my room without my permission?” he questions.

You scoff, “You always go in mine!” you try your best to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake up a grumpy Hobi, “Why can’t I go in yours?”

“Because you’ve never told me anything against me going into yours,” he argues, “Just because we’re um,” he pauses, struggling to say the word that comes next, “friends… doesn’t mean you get to go snooping around.” What the hell was he hiding in there that you couldn’t go in?

“That’s not fair and you know it,” you complain, ready to cross your arms and complain like a kid, that is until he flicks your forehead with his index finger.

“Ow,” you cry, “What was that for?” you groan, and he shrugs in response.

“I don’t know I just felt like doing it,” he smirks, “your forehead just looks so … flickable.” You narrow your eyes, quickly flicking his in return, garnering an “ow” from him as well.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that,” he says, and quickly but also softly because you didn’t want to stomp too hard on the floor, you run back to the living room, the two of you now chasing each other around, index fingers ready for some more flicking. Maniacal fits of giggles filling the room as you begin to throw pillows at each other, running around the kitchen island like little kids. 

Jungkook, despite being the faster runner, was the one being chased. The closer you got to him, the further you began to reach your arm for his t-shirt, your fingertips always grazing the bottom. But once you finally did, something very unexpected happened. You tripped.

Soon enough, you were hands down on the floor, Jungkook below you, a casualty of your fall. The two of you now facing each other, chests heaving from your game of tag, laughing uncontrollably. Not exactly caring if Hobi, the neighbors, or the rest of the world could hear you.

Gradually, you get off him and instead lay on the kitchen floor right next him, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. A comfortable silence in the air. If someone would’ve told you at the beginning of the year that you and Jungkook would be playing tag in the apartment like little kids, you would’ve told them they were crazy. But yet here you were, heart pounding out of your chest, wanting this moment to remain for as long as it possibly could.

“So…” Jungkook continues to stare at the ceiling, “How’d your date go?”

“It was…” you use the only word that could properly describe it, “embarrassing,” you giggle, recalling what happened. Jungkook looks at you, eager to say the least, to know why.

“Let’s just say I ummm … took some signs completely wrong,” you awkwardly chuckle, “or long story short, I sorta kissed him and well let’s just say he has his eyes on someone else in our friend group.”

Was it wrong for Jungkook to feel happy? Happy that you two didn’t have insane chemistry, become boyfriend and girlfriend, and live happily ever after after like in the fairytales. Of course he wasn’t happy that it was you who went for the kiss, nor that it was who you got rejected, but it was better than you coming in here raving on about Park Jimin, no offense to Jimin.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s fine really,” you laugh, “what’s weird was that I didn’t really feel as heartbroken or as sad as I thought I’d be,” you shrug, “I’m just glad it didn’t ruin our friendship or anything. If anything I’m sad about what he offered... “

“What did he offer?” Jungkook’s jaw tightens, but you’re quick to shake your head and sigh.

“He offered me a spot at Seoul’s annual art exhibition, I guess since he choreographed a dance, he was able to talk them into giving him a spot and well I said no,” Jungkook frowns, wondering why you didn’t take the offer, “I just couldn’t see myself doing it… I haven’t painted in what feels like forever and to then have it be seen by thousands of people, yeah I can already feel the anxiety from that. One bad comment and I’m going to have to fake a smile the whole time and cry when I get home.”

Jungkook scoffs, “Who cares what others think? Screw them. I know that it’s rich coming from me, but if you think those people who may insult you or throw some sly comment to get under your skin are better than you in any way then let me tell you, they’re not. And who says you have to take their shit? Stop feeling as if you have to always put on some fake smile for people in order to spare their feelings and start looking out for your own,” Jungkook sits up, looking down on you. “So you know what you’re going to do?”

You stare at him in silence, murmuring a tiny “what?”

“You’re going to text Jimin right now and tell him you’re taking that spot,” Jungkook demands, “and if you don’t then I’ll call him myself and do it for you.” Now it’s your turn to sit yourself right up, waiting for a sign in his eyes that told you he was purely kidding. “Well what are you waiting for?” He eyes your pockets, waiting for you to reach for your phone.

“Jungko—”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me that you’re not feeling sad because you know you’re going to regret saying no to the opportunity,” Jungkook’s voice raises without meaning to, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t have to see a single painting of yours to know that you’re talented, and if people can’t see that then honestly it’s their loss.” You feel your heart swell with every word, slowly pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jungkook gets up from his position, offering his hand to help pull you up. Once he pulls you, he walks towards the fridge, and takes two pints of ice cream out the freezer. Your face lights up as you watch him get two spoons from the drawer, “Don’t hold it against me, but I bought these after you left just in case you came back a crying mess,” he avoids eye contact with you while handing you your pint, “But heartbreak or not, someone has to eat these. So come on, send that text so we can watch some One Piece.”

“Imagine you would’ve never convinced me to do the art exhibition,” you laugh, gently nudging Jungkook.

“Mm though it could’ve prevented a lot of things, the good definitely outweighed the bad so…” Jungkook pauses, “I guess it just goes to show you have to go through the downs in order to reap the rewards of the up.”

“Now look who's getting all wordy on me,” you tease.

“I guess you’re rubbing off on me more than I’d like to admit,” he pretends to be annoyed by dramatically sighing but a laugh soon follows.

June 2019.

After texting Jimin that you had changed your mind, you began to work on the painting you had brainstormed for the art exhibition, first sketching it out and now well on your way to starting your quite large painting. 

Honestly, pulling out your old art tools and portfolio from years ago was nostalgic, bringing you a genuine sense of completeness. To have a decent paying job, the best of friends, and now being able to practice the hobby you had once considered turning into a career was everything you could ask for. But what made you feel even warmer inside was just how supportive Jungkook was of the whole thing, always buying and bringing back art materials for you to use, including different colors of paint. Though most of the time they weren’t really what you considered the best quality, it was the thought that counted.

After your boxing lessons with him, you’d usually go straight to your room to begin working on it, for the first time since you stopped painting feeling actual motivation and creativity flowing through you. Life was good. Not good, amazing.

That was until today, when you noticed Jungkook hadn’t woken you up for your usual Saturday workout. “Maybe he overslept?” you think to yourself, probably had a tiresome night at work yesterday. Slowly you make your way outside his door, gently knocking on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nothing. Not a groan, not a “let me sleep”, absolutely nothing. You knock one more time just to make sure, your shoulders dropping once you realize he wasn’t going to open the door. Remembering what he said about entering his room, you decide that if he was having a bad day, it’d just be best to leave him be for the meanwhile.

Things didn’t really start getting alarming until you and Hobi both noticed that he skipped breakfast. His door remaining absolutely closed the whole morning and day, not a peep of sound coming out.

“Hobi, I’m starting to get worried,” your eyes glimmer with concern, “He hasn’t come out all day.”

“I know I am too, but—” Hobi sighs, “I don’t want to pressure him into—” the sound of a door opening quickly grabs your guys’ attention, the two of you silently watching Jungkook come out of his room. The time on the clock reading 6PM, the sun outside beginning to set. Carefully you watch Jungkook come into the kitchen, grabbing nothing more than a water bottle and a couple of snacks.

There’s a redness to his eyes that you’d never seen before, almost as if he had been sobbing. His under eyes were in the early stages of becoming puffy, and his skin seemed a lot paler than usual. You feel your heart sink when the two of you, for a mere second, make eye contact. Quietly he begins to make his way back to his room, but not before you offer him some food.

“Y/N—” Hobi tries to stop you, but you continue nonetheless.

“I made japchae,” you say, “I even added extra mushrooms like how you always like it,” he stares at you in silence, a cold look to his eyes before ignoring you and returning to his room. The door slamming shut once he does. If your heart was sunk already, then it was definitely stomped and ripped into pieces after that.

You turn your attention back to the TV, feeling Hobi’s stare from the side. Suddenly the volume of the TV is lowered and you already know what's coming, “Y/N…” you hear Hobi say, a sad tone behind his voice.

“Hobi don’t,” you cut him off before he could continue, not wanting to receive his pity, “I just don’t feel like hearing it right now.”

Hobi ignores you, knowing you were just putting up a wall as a defense mechanism, “You know he didn’t mean it,” he says, “he’s probably just having a rough day that’s all.”

“Even if he is, why does he still feel the need to just keep it to himself, why can’t he see that he can trust us, that he can trust me? Sometimes it feels like he knows a lot more about me than I know about him—” you rant, trying to keep your voice down so that Jungkook doesn’t hear you from his room.

Hobi sighs, getting up from the couch and grabbing his jacket and keys from the counter, “Put on your shoes,” he says, and you look at him confused before doing as he says and following him outside. The two of you then climb up the fire ladder of your apartment and onto the roof, the view of the stars sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay now sit—” he commands, which you do anyway.

“Why are we even out here?” you question, regretting not bringing your own sweater.

“Because I’m going to tell you a story, and well I don’t want Jungkook hearing us,” he says, making himself comfortable in the spot next to you, “You ready?”

Silently you nod your head yes, and so he continues.

“When I was a kid, I was what you could call ...nerdy … so to speak,” he chuckles, “I had those big ol glasses that made you look like you had fish eyes, I liked reading the Harry Potter books, I didn’t like playing sports like the rest of the boys in my elementary school did, and well in general I just wasn’t like a lot of them,” he pauses to look up at the sky, continuing once he was ready, “Now when you’re in elementary, kids won’t directly bully you, but instead they’ll make little teasing remarks because well ...we’re kids. We don’t know the big curse words yet or what we’re capable of physically. And so as a kid I’d let those jokes slide, I’d let their insults become the label put on me, not knowing the true maliciousness behind it.”

You feel your eyes become glossy, knowing where this was leading, “But the older you get, the more you begin to learn and well soon enough the teasing became full on bullying by middle school. The older kids would make these nicknames for me, and constantly call me them before, during, and after school. Occasionally even following me for a couple of blocks when walking home just to remind me that they had power over me,” Hobi’s voice begins to shake a little, “and well I didn’t know how to speak up for myself, let alone defend myself and so it just became a regular occurrence until on a certain day in middle school,” he pauses, taking a big breath. 

“I had been walking home from school that day, and for some reason that day I decided I wanted to take a different route back home, probably because I was hoping the kids who would bully me would decide not to follow me. But boy was I was wrong,” he feigns a laugh, “The route I had taken was right next to the Suyeong River, and well I think it’s important to note that I didn’t know how to swim at the time. I think I personally choose not to remember too much, but one moment I was walking and the next I had my face being pulled in and out of the water, the sounds of laughter being the thing I remember the most from that day,” Hobi closes his eyes, his voice cracking as he continues, “And I just remember thinking how could kids my age be so viscous?” tears begin to silently fall from his eyes, his hands slightly shaking at the recollection of the memory, “I thought this was it, this is the end of the line for me.”

“It wasn’t until I felt the release of my hair and the touch of someone pulling back that the nightmare came to an end,” Hobi wipes his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, “When I finally managed to get some kind of focus on my vision, I’d come to see the boy who was pushing me into the water completely knocked out the floor while the rest of his buddies were running to who knows where,” The scene from the club begins to replay in your head, remembering the person who had gotten there just at the right time.

“And then there was Jungkook, the boy I’d never seen a day in my life , helping me fix myself along with looking for my glasses even after having knocked out that boy with his bare hands. After that me and Jungkook became the best of friends, like actual genuine friends and the bullying had completely stopped. I’d also come to find out that Jungkook was a boxer, and not a casual one, like an “I practice every weekday, weekend, day, and night.” kind of one. He was aiming to go pro, and so he had to put in the time for it. His parents were supportive of it as well, as I think his dad saw the most potential in it.”  

Hobi takes a breather before continuing, finding yourself completely immersed in the story, “And so when our senior year came around and I had gotten accepted into SNU, I asked Jungkook what he was planning on doing now that we were graduating. And well that’s when he told me that had gotten an offer to train and compete in the states, where there’d be a lot more tougher competition and where he could really develop the natural talent he had. So on graduation day we had our teary farewell, and I remember telling him that if he ever needed anything and I truly meant anything, that he’d know where to find me.”

“So when years later I received a call at about 2 in the morning, asking if he could redeem the favor he had once done for me so long ago, I knew I couldn’t say no. I don’t know what happened in the states, and I don’t bother to ask him because I know that the day he’s ready to tell me or you, he will. Whatever did happen over there, changed him though. He came back a colder, more rude person, and honestly I thought he’d be like that forever until he started to get to know you,” Hobi smiles, “That’s when I began to see glimpses of the Jungkook I knew from high school again, the one who liked to mess around all the time, and never took himself too seriously.”

“You see y/n, I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know that Jungkook isn’t like us in the way of opening up when he feels sad or mad. He’s used to being the one doing all the protecting and so when he finds himself in a place where he’s overwhelmed by the feelings of sadness or anger, he gives the cold shoulder or becomes someone who isn’t like him at all, in order to avoid talking about it. I think it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know the burden he carries. To sum it up y/n, Jungkook is the definition of when it rains, it pours … but when it shines, you’ll completely forget it ever rained to begin with,” Hobi pats you softly on the shoulder, “So the best thing you can do right now is let the storm play itself out, so that then you can be there when the rainbow comes back out.”

If only you had listened.

“Ahh so it was Hobi who told you everything,” Jungkook scrunches his face.

“No duhhhhh,” you sing, “Who else could have?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know, I thought you just magically figured it out on your own,” you’re unsure on whether he’s being sarcastic or not so all you is narrow your eyes at him, deciding to stay silent than make yourself look stupid.

“Mm either way Hobi made a BIG mistake telling me,” you laugh, “because he should've known my nosiness was only going to lead to problems.”

“Tell me about it,” Jungkook teases, resulting in a light smack to the shoulder.

July 2019.

It had been about a month since Jungkook’s change in behavior, his cold demeanor reminding you of when he first moved in months ago. The only time he’d ever leave his room was to go to work, use the restroom, or get his food to take to his room. You had been working on your painting whenever you got the chance, a distraction from the constant concern you felt for Jungkook. You know Hobi said to give it time, but how long would it be until Jungkook decided to finally open up? He couldn’t go on like this forever, could he?

You missed the Jungkook you had gotten to know in the last couple of months, the one who showed you that the tough wall he put up around him was nothing more than an act. That behind it, he was a complete sweetheart who liked drinking his banana milk and watching One Piece whenever he had the chance, the one who constantly liked to steal your things from your room and then replace them with an even better version, the one whose laugh sorta reminded you of Elmo but was still absolutely adorable, and lastly the one who you had found constantly by your side and falling further in love with every waking moment.

Not like, but love. You had come to realize it while you were in bed one night, your only thoughts being thunk all relating to Jungkook in some way. Remembering the number of times this month where you’d find yourself outside his bedroom door, inches away from knocking, knowing that all you needed was for him to open up the door at least once and you’d know everything was going to be okay. Sadly, you’d always find yourself chickening out, Hobi’s words always ringing in your head to serve as a reminder. Jungkook needed space. And as much as you wanted to run up to him and give him a tight hug, you knew you had to respect his boundaries.

So then why was it that today, when you found yourself painting and missing a certain color, a tiny voice in your head was telling you that maybe Jungkook had it… Realistically you knew it wasn’t possible, you had kept track of all your colors from the moment you started, but damn was that voice convincing. 

Getting up from the floor, you walk out into the living room, checking around to see if it was there. Hobi, who was currently taking a nap on the couch, seemed completely at peace.

You check his room to see if he has it, but your efforts were to no avail. The only place it had to be was Jungkook’s room. It had to be. At least that’s what you were telling yourself so could finally have an excuse to knock on his door. Making your way to his room, you prepare to knock, your knuckles lightly tapping against the wooden door. But to your surprise the door creaks open, no one presumably in the room…

You could’ve sworn Jungkook was home? You double check the restroom, making sure it wasn’t going to be an incident like last time, but this time he really wasn’t there. The voice of reasoning versus temptation now had you completely torn. You remember the day Jungkook first moved in, and how secretive he got over you seeing whatever it was inside his boxes, and the night after your date and how stern he was about you not entering.

Slowly you push open the door of his room, completely forgetting Hobi’s words and deciding that it was either now or never. You knew you were a pushing boundary that you shouldn’t be, but a part of you also felt like it had to be done. Maybe if you found out what was bothering Jungkook so much, you could help him.

Honestly, you weren't too sure on what you expected when you first entered. Considering how secretive Jungkook was about it, you sorta assumed the room would be all black and have a whole bunch of weird things hanging across the walls, but surprisingly his room looked completely normal. The bed covers were a navy blue color that matched with some of the artwork he had hung across the beige colored apartment walls. The drawers were plain and boring while his desk looked like any other ordinary desk:  stacked with random sketches, pens, One piece manga, and printed webtoons. If this is all he was hiding, then it really no made sense because there was literally nothing to hide….

That was until you saw the closed closet door, and once you opened it, you were blown away. For what was behind those closet doors was an entire memorabilia of awards, belts, photos, and trophies which you assumed were all Jungkook’s, newspapers from the states with headlines that spoke of how amazing Jungkook was. Many of them include the words “rising”, “prodigy”,  and “the next big thing”. Your eyes try to take everything in all in one go, but it was just so much. There were papers that were written about him even when he was a kid, pictures of his with several belts around his waist amazed you. This was insane.

But it wasn’t until you noticed the newspaper headline of the paper hung right in the center of the practical shrine that the smile from your face fell, as it read, “Prodigy Jeon Jungkook, K.O’d in Round 12 against Brandon Star.” You look at the date, and everything begins to start making sense. The date which read December 1, 2018, only a couple of weeks prior to your first meeting with him at New Years, the churning feeling in your stomach only becoming heavier as you read the newspaper next to it. “Rising Star, Jeon Jungkook, disappears. Where is he now?” it reads, and as you skim through the different articles, the whole memorabilia shrine begins to make sense. Jungkook didn’t have this here for the purpose of maintaining old memories, but for the purpose of constantly reminding himself of what he once was and how he ended up failing, torturing himself to say the least. It’d explain his pent up anger when you first met him, the scar was still fresh.

Grabbing one of the trophies from the memorabilia desk, you observe the glass material and admire its fine detail, Jungkook’s name written in cursive underneath the title. Slowly your fingers graze over it, whispering his name to yourself, “Jeon Ju—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice harshly interrupts, scaring you and causing you to jump. The slippery trophy in your hands falling to floors, several pieces of glass now shattered onto the floor. Turning to face the owner of the voice, your heart stops when you find Jungkook staring at the floor, an expressionless look on his face.

“I—” your brain completely freezes, only staring at his balled up fist which was becoming more red with every passing second.

“I told you—” he closes his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, “I told you to stay the fuck out of my room,” he finally snaps, his enraged voice echoing across the walls of the room, “So then why, why the fuck are you in here right now!” he moves towards you, his face now becoming red in anger. Not caring whether he was stepping on glass or not.

“I know but—”

He cuts you off, “But fucking what? There’s no reason you should even be in here right now y/n! None!” he screams, his rage only furthering with every word. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you stammer to defend yourself. “How would you feel like if I barged into your room and destroyed something personal of yours, huh?”  

All you can do is stare at him, never seeing him this enraged before, the sight definitely a scary one, “Answer me goddamit!” he yells, his fist still balled up, holding himself back from punching anything. He looks down at the broken glass one more time, his chest now heaving in anger before storming out the room.

Quickly you follow him, chills going down your spine when you see him turn to your room.

“What are you—” you begin, but it’s too late. Everything happens in slow motion, from the fist being thrown to the sound of the canvas you’d been working so long on cracking, several holes and rips appearing soon after. You look at the scene in front of you in silence, shock running through your veins, and the need to vomit stronger than ever before. Jungkook breathes heavily, staring at what he’s just done, not feeling a single ounce of remorse.

The closing feeling in your throat is one that’s too overwhelming, but the anger you were now feeling was even stronger, “What is wrong with you,” you whisper, tears falling down from your eyes, a look of terror overtaking your face, “What is wrong with you!” you scream, lips trembling as your voice breaks at just how loud you were. Jungkook feels his blood run cold, taken back by your sudden outburst.

“I have been nothing but kind to you since the day we’ve met, nothing but!” you yell, hot tears uncontrollably falling from your hysteria.

Jungkook scoffs, yelling right in return, “Do you want some kind of reward for that? Is that it? Is that all this is? Another ego booster for you so you can pat yourself on the back and say you’re a good person!”

“I don’t need anything from anyone! Especially not from someone like you,” you spit, Jungkook’s jaw clenching at your response.

“Ah I knew that nice ol princess act was nothing more than mere bullshit,” he bitterly laughs, “finally had enough of your whole little treat everyone with kindness moral?” he mocks you.

“It’s not a fucking act, I’m just not a miserable person like you!” you grit your teeth, the temptation to throw something at him at an all time high.

“No you just live in this big old fantasy bubble that’s got you believing that kindness solves all the world's problems!”

“Yeah well it’s better than thinking that being a fucking prick to the rest of the world gets you anywhere, I mean look at where you’re at now!” you yell, knowing you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t care at all anymore. The ice was shattered the moment he destroyed your painting, “I understand that I made a mistake going into your room, but you don’t have to take the rest of your miserable life out on me! You think everyone around you wants to be some kind of punching bag all the time for you?” the veins in your neck begin to pop out, and you almost feel as if your chest was going to physically explode at any moment, “How dare you come in here and treat everyone around you like complete shit all because you’re living a sad tragic life!”

“That’s not true,” he snarls, a scowl on his face.

“Isn’t it?” you scoff, “You’ve done it since the first day you got here, and so let me do the favor of telling you the truth and giving you a goddamn reality check! We’re all sick and tired of it! Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you get to make everyone around you as well! And let me tell you, I’ll be damned if I let someone like you make me just as rotten as yourself,” and for a small second you see the hurt across Jungkook’s face, and you think maybe you’ve gone too far. 

Maybe this could’ve all been prevented had you never entered his room. But then you think to yourself that no, this was bound to happen. This was always going to happen whether you liked it or not. The questions had always just been: when was it going to happen and what was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back? By now both of your chests are heaving, and there’s a silence that fills the room. Time acts as nothing more than an illusion.

“Is that what you really think?” he says, a cold hardened expression on his face again, “That I make you miserable?” You look at the destroyed painting on the floor, a symbol that despite building and making something so beautiful, all it took was one slip of the finger for it all to go down the drain. Without saying anything, you slowly nod to him, the emptiness in your heart acting as a driving force.

“What the—” Hobi walks in the room, dazed and confused, “What the fuck is going on in here?” He asks, but the two of you remain silent, continuing to stare at one another.

That is until Jungkook breaks away from the stare, muttering a small “nothing,” under his breath, walking out of the room and going back to his own, the door loudly slamming shut.

“Y/N…” Hobi begins, but you cut him off before he even gets the chance, a tiresome expression on your face.

“Hobi,” you shake your head, “Just leave me alone!,” you snap at him, but it comes out more as a plea than a demand, voice completely weary. Hobi stares at you for a moment before doing so, gently closing the door when making his way out. Once you hear the sound of the door close, you squat down to the floor, fingers grazing the painting you’d work so hard on, a muffled sob finally escaping from your lips.

a/n: whew! originally this was supposed to be nothing more than a small drabble, but as i kept writing it just ended becoming this monstrous of a fic that i had to split into two lmao. hopefully i didn’t make the switches between present day and the past too confusing for y’all.  part two will probably be up by next friday, once my finals week is over :)) any messages, anons, comments, reblogs, and like are appreciated! see y’all next time! 💞

[ambria]

everytime // Sirius Black

Sweetener x Marauders

play ‘everytime’ by Ariana Grande <3

pairing: sirius black x reader

word count: 2.3k ✨

warnings: angst, fluff at the end, mentions of drinking, under-age drinking, partying, depression?, mentions of drugs and drug use, someone trying to take advantage on the drunk reader, crying? Let me know if I missed something.

This also might have a few time jumps

A/N: I wrote this in 1st person but I feel like I should make these in 3rd so that’s what I’ll start doing. But this is also my first time making a one-shot fic so cut me some slack if it’s trash. But I hope you enjoy!

I get tired of your no-shows

Taking in the warmth through my fingers I look at the door once more before glancing at the clock.

He’s late. Again

I take a deep breath to cool down my nerves and sigh. I sip the rest of my butterbeer before looking at the entrance once more and packing my stuff and walking out. I look around once more before giving up and walking back to the castle.

You get tired of my control

As I’m walking back I start to get more irritated by the step. This isn’t the first time he’s done this. Always too busy to hang out because of him with his friends or too busy because of pranks. The missed dates and the interrupted times. All for his friends. I’m clearly not a priority in his life and that has to change or I’m not going to be in it.

Walking through the castle I collect my thoughts on how I’m gonna approach this situation. But since I’m so pissed off, I’m gonna take an angry approach.

I walk up to the gryffindor common room and say the password before walking in.

As I stepped into the common room, lo and behold, the marauders spread on the couches talking loudly and laughing. Seeing that made my blood boil. As I walk over I catch the attention of the brunet,

“Y/N!!!!! Hey!!!” The Potter boy called out. I gave a weak smile. Which caught the attention of my boyfriend.

“Hey, babe.” He smiled at me. I internally roll my eyes and keep an emotionless face on. At this point all the attention from the boys is on me.

“Hey. Can we talk?” In the corner of my eye I can see Remus and James glance at each other and look worriedly at Sirius. Yeah. They know better.

“Uhh. Sure. About what?” This time I rolled my eyes. I ignore his question and grab his hand before dragging him up to his dorm.

We enter and I close the door before leaning on it. He goes and sits on the foot on his bed.

“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.” Bouncing his knee, I can tell he’s getting impatient and just wants this to hurry up and be done with this. I get even more annoyed at this.

“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.”- I mocked him- “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re always busy! Doing this and doing that!” I start to raise my voice. My face starts to heat up due to my anger. I try to calm down but it doesn’t seem to be working.

He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off,

“Where were you today?! I was waiting for you! For our date that YOU literally planned!” His eyes widened with realization and looked at me with a guilty face. But I’m too pissed off to care.

My eyes start to water with tears of frustration but I’m nowhere near done,

“Everytime I want to hang out you’re always busy with your friends and pranks! You never have time for me anymore!” At this point tears are streaming down my face and Sirius doesn’t look that far behind.

“This is the third date you missed! Because you forgot! I’m done with being second best. Im probably not even that!” He has his head down, hands on his knees.

“I—I-I” he stutters out what I think is going to be some wack apology. But I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.

“No. I’m done.” As soon as I said those words his head shot up fast and looked at me with wide eyes.

“No-” he goes to protest but I cut him off again.

“No I can’t do this. Not anymore. This has gone on for too long. You need to fix your priorities. I hope you don’t treat another girl like this. I’m breaking up with you, Sirius.” I don’t wait for a reply and I simply walk out of the door and walk back down to the common room, wiping my tears.

They keep telling me to let go

As I make it to the common room I notice the boys are still there. They see me and go to talk but a loud sound cuts them off. Items getting thrown around, is what I guessed it to be.

We all freeze and guilt washes over me. It’s Sirius.

But I don’t really let go when I say so

I turn my head to the staircase with a sad expression before brushing it off.

I had to. I deserve better. I thought to myself.

I look over to the boys to see that they have worried but knowing expressions on their faces. I gave them weak smiles and walked away to my dorm.

I keep giving people blank stares

Drama travels fast around here at Hogwarts. So it wasn’t long until word got out that infamous Sirius Black was single again and back on the market.

My friends are starting to get worried about me because of my reaction to the breakup, or lack thereof. I know how to keep my emotions buried. I know it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism but I refuse to be sad over a boy who treated me like shit.

I’m so different when your not there

What they don’t know is that I cry myself to sleep. Everyday. I close my curtains around my bed and put a silencing spell around it and sob. For hours. It’s pretty sad.

But I keep my neutral face on for everyone else. From what I know Sirius isn’t doing much better. He’s just more open about his broken heart. Lily tells me he mopes around and doesn’t speak much anymore. Let alone prank anyone.

Everytime she tells me about him being sad it makes me want to run out the room and find him to cuddle with him and kiss him and apologize profusely for the break up.

But I remind myself that it’s not my fault and that I deserve better.

It’s like something out of Shakespeare

Because I’m really not here when you’re not there

I tried to fight our energy

It's been three months since the break up and I have developed some pretty bad habits.

I’ve secretly been drinking to numb the pain. I know it’s not healthy but I can’t seem to stop.

Once all my roommates are sleeping I drink by myself on my bed. It helped in the beginning but now I can’t stop.

I’ve perfected my fake smile so no one could tell the difference. Well one person did, but I was unaware.

I’m in a deep depression and I have no one to talk to. None of my friends know, I can’t tell them. They won’t understand.

Meanwhile,

��Pads, you can’t keep moping around. She’s moved on, you should too.”

“No, I can’t. I still love her.” Sirius said but due to him being face first on his pillow it came out muffled.

“Well then you’re going to have to work your way to get her back. Show her you’ve changed.” The werewolf suggested to his friend.

“Really?” He picks his head up to face his friends, red and puffy eyes with a hopeful expression.

They nod.

But everytime I think I’m free

As the weeks pass I start to receive notes and letters with little flowers attached to them. I know they are from Sirius but I can’t seem to open them and read. It’s too hard and I’m not ready yet.

You get high and call on the regular

Once I reach my empty dorm I run to my trunk and collect all the saved letters. I place them on my bed and chuck my shoes off before climbing on my bed while getting comfortable.

I sort the letter from how I received them. I slowly open the first one,

Dear y/n,

Looking at us now I regret a lot of things.

I don’t blame you for not seeing us together in the future.

I was horrible, but for you I am willing to change. No. I will change.

You deserve so much better and if you let me I could be that person.

But I have to fix myself in order for that to happen.

If you're willing I would love to have another chance.

forever yours,

Sirius

As I finish reading my eyes are cloudy with tears. I continue to read all of the letters.

And by the end of it I’m sobbing.

I get weak and fall like a teenager

I knew it was a bad idea to read those letters. Because after that I am ready to run back into his arms and express my love. But I can’t until I know that he’s changed.

I deserve better. I keep telling myself that.

Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?

Everytime I see him now I try to avoid him. Everytime he’s in a room, I leave. Everytime class is over I run out before he gets the chance to talk to me.

Because I know if I take one look into his beautiful stormy gray eyes I will fall all over again. And that can’t happen.

I deserve better.

I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it

It’s Friday night and today is the big Gryffindor party. Being stressed with liquor and drugs is not a good combo but I haven’t been safe these past couple of months.

I’m in my dorm room getting ready. I decide on a natural glam look with a bold red lip and a black satin body con dress with some black heels.

As I’m walking down the stairs, I can hear the music blasting and the red led lights are turned on. I part from my friends and immediately head to the liquor table. As I’m walking I fail to notice the pair of eyes following my every move.

I take a plastic red cup and I fill it up with the hardest liquor I could find on the table. After downing the cup I refill it and make my way over to my friends who are currently in the corner smoking what the muggles call ‘weed’. It’s strong but it helps me relax. Who knew muggle were so helpful.

Self-destruct, show up like an idiot

About an hour into the party everyone was either high, drunk or both. Which I was. Again me with my unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I ended up dancing in the middle of the room with a huge group of people. I feel eyes on me but I’m too drunk to care at the moment.

As I’m dancing I feel someone come up behind me and grab my hips. I turn around to see a random 7th year boy. He begins to trail his hands on my body.

He leans down to whisper in my ear,

“How about we go to my down, sweetheart?” His hot breath makes a shiver run down my spine, and not in a good way.

I began to shake my head while saying no but he clearly didn’t get the message because he gripped my wrists and tried to pull me with him. But because I was too drunk I couldn’t defend myself properly.

As I continue to struggle I see a person step in front of me, glaring at the boy,

“I suggest you let her go. Now.” I heard a familiar voice, I couldn’t tell who from my drunken state. Once the person turned around a smile involuntarily appeared on my face,

“Siri! Hi!” I giggled as he guided me away from everyone.

“Hi. Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He picks me up bridal style and starts to carry me up to the boys dorms and to his room.

I yawned and cuddled up into his chest,

“I’m still mad at you.” I mumbled. He set me down on his bed and goes to his trunk to take out some clothes,

“I know.” He said, sadly. As he’s helping me I go on a mini rant,

“You know you treated me horrible. I just wanted my boyfriend but you never made time for me. You missed dates, you cancelled on me a lot. And whenever we had time together alone you had to leave early. I just wanted you to give me your love and attention. But I was never a priority. I miss you so much, Siri.” After he tucks me into his bed he kisses my forehead and responds,

“I miss you too, baby.” He goes to walk away but I grab his hand. Which makes him turn around and give me a questioning look,

“Please stay.” I pout. He smiles and climbs into the bed with me. I turn to look at him,

“Cuddles?” I ask him with puppy eyes.

“Cuddles.” I snuggle up next to him with my head on his chest and my legs bunched up with his. He puts his chin on top of my head and begins to play with my hair.

“You know, I still love you. And I’m willing to give you a second chance, Siri.” I can’t see him but I can tell he has a huge grin on his face.

“I love you too, pup. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” I start to drift off but before I do fully I feel him kiss my forehead again and whisper ‘I love you’ one last time before the darkness engulfed me.

Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?

****

Taglist: @blackpinkdolan

If you want to be added to my taglist for this series message me or comment under the post.

[mageofseven]

Brothers react to MC who has been running on little to no sleep and coffee for days but keeps saying they’re fine and not about to collapse

Decided to put these together since their prompts are pretty similar.

Also, Belphie's section kinda took it's own turn 😅 it's not bad, simply went heavier on the nightmare aspect of the one ask and doesn't really have much in the way of the caffeine or sleeplessness, but I hope you like it nonetheless~

~

Lucifer:

Not the habit of his that he wished them to mimick, if he's honest.

Is very worried about their health, both physical and emotional.

Confiscates the rest of their energy drinks and refuses to let them attend RAD the next few days so they can stay home and sleep.

Any arguements on the matter fall on deaf ears

And if they try the pull the "You do it too!" card since he often uses caffeine to get him through sleepless nights of work, he will remind them that he is a demon and his body can take a lot more strain than theirs.

Stays home with them to make sure they sleep; after all, he has been tasked with keeping them healthy just as much as he has with their physical safety.

Catches them trying to work on homework in their room on the first day and all but carries them to his room.

Makes them sleep in his bed while he does paperwork at his desk.

Whenever he'd hear them whimper in their sleep, he'd wake them and help calm them.

Has to do this a lot over the course of the next few days and becomes even more concerned.

Eventually asks if something is bothering his Love that is fueling these nightmares

And if they'd rather not talk to him about it, he offers to help them get in touch with a therapist that they can talk to.

Ends up setting the human on a better track physically, but acknowledges that their emotional wellbeing is more difficult and more so depends on what they are willing to do for themselves than anything he can do for them.

Mammon:

Oh lord, they got this boy worried.

Not that he will straight up tell them, but still.

Gets Lucifer to let the two of them skip school for a few days to try fix them up (normally this would be a hard no from the oldest, but even he noticed how sleep deprived the human was and knew that it was necessary to fix their sleep schedule and have them rest).

Mammon was the only one that knew about his Human's nightmares though and honestly, he wasn't sure how to handle that part.

Step one! Put down the Monster, human!

Step two! He's dragging them to his bed and they are staying put till they fall asleep!

After that...the Avatar of Greed has no clue what to do.

The man lays down with them and relaxes them enough to fall asleep.

He stayed by them, just in case. He tried laying in bed with them, but eventually the man got uncomfortable so he switched to walking around the room or sitting on the couch. He avoided leaving the room or doing anything too loud though.

When he first noticed their cries from the bed, the man dropped his phone on the couch before rushing over.

He hovered over the bed for a minute. Should he wake them? Is it better to let them them sleep through it?

But as MC let out another whimper, the man knew he couldn't just do nothing.

"Oi! Babe!"

The human woke with a start and clung to their boyfriend before they were even aware of it.

Mammon sat on the bed and let his Human lean against him and cry. He didn't really know what to say so he just stroked their hair awkwardly as they cried.

"Was it the same dream?" He mumbled once they calmed down.

Silence. How was he suppose to help if they didn't wanna talk about it?

"I'm sorry..." MC whispered.

"Don't be sorry, babe; just talk to me 'ere."

MC tugged at him so the two of them could lay back down together.

"I don't wanna think about it..."

The second brother shut up at that, feeling like an ass for pushing them. Of course, MC didn't see it that way though; they knew he was just worried.

Mammon stayed in bed with them this time, not leaving their side even once after they fell back asleep.

After about a week of focusing on sleep, MC gets better physically, but the nightmares were still an issue.

It helped having Mammon close to them though so they were at least less frequent. The demon still has no clue what they keep dreaming about that scares them so much, but his Human feels safer with him there so that's something.

Leviathan:

MC tried really hard to hide their issue from him so he didn't worry

But of course, the third brother isn't blind and eventually noticed the extreme caffeine intake and lack of brain power

Leading him to ask questions and finally make his Henry admit they've been avoiding sleep for the last few days because of some really bad nightmares.

Immediately blames himself. The Avatar of Envy falls into a pit of self hatred, telling himself he should know this stuff and that MC kept this from his because they think he's weak and worthless and--

Yeah. MC has to spend time and what literally energy they have assuring him that none of that is true.

It was a Friday evening so no school to miss. Instead, Levi gets MC to go to sleep early

Which they agreed...as long as they could sleep with him.

Cue the blushing. The couple had yet to actually sleep in the same bed together yet or in the case of his room, the same bathtub.

Didn't really feel he could say no though with his Henry needing him so badly though.

MC could feel their boyfriend's heart pounding from nervousness as they curled up in the tub together; it didn't really calm down till the human fell asleep and Levi heard their soft breathing. It was actually pretty calming.

Not enough for him to fall asleep though. I mean, this boy usually stays up all night playing video games.

Ends up playing a game on his phone with the volume muted.

Eventually feels MC pressing up against him in their sleep and crying into his shoulder.

The boy freezes.

What was he suppose to do?! Does he wake them?? But they need sleep! But they're having a nightmare! Gaaah

The demon debated this for a few minutes before finally shaking them awake.

Even when they awoke, MC still cried against him.

Surprisingly enough though, the human was willing talk about their dream.

The nightmare they kept having...was about about him leaving them??

The envy demon's brain was stuck on buffering...what did he just hear?

The man didn't even feel like he deserved them, but some part of them was actually afraid he'd break up with them?

Dude couldn't even wrap his head around it, if he's honest.

"That'd never happen... I'm not dumb or anything, Normie..."

Though he doesn't like that they've worried about this so much that started having nightmares about it...their boyfriend is also kinda relieved because of them? Like, the bad dreams are proof that they actually love him just as much as he loves them, despite his self esteem (or lack of) always trying to tell him otherwise.

Satan:

Caught onto things pretty quickly and tried to simply ask them to go to sleep at a reasonable time that night

Just to discover the next day that they had lied to him and stayed up all night doing school work.

Annoyed, the blonde becomes a lot firmer with them. No more caffeine.

Once the human started to crash, Satan led to his room and had them sleep in his bed.

"I don't want to...dream it again."

"What is it that you keep dreaming, Kitten?" He asked, eyebrows raised

But they had already fallen alseep.

Concerned, the blonde stayed right next to them, sitting on the bed and reading a book while his other hand on top of theirs as they slept.

At some point during the night when Satan was ready to go to sleep as well, he felt the human's body suddenly tense up and their breathing became heavier.

He got up to put his book back on the shelf and MC almost instantly cried out in their sleep.

He dropped his book down on a randomly pile before sitting back down, calling out to his Kitten and shaking their shoulder.

The human woke up and found themselves clinging to his leg.

Satan stroked their hair.

"Shh. It's okay, Kitten; you're alright."

When the human calmed down, he discovered that they have been having the same dream the last few nights--or they believe it to be the same dream. They always forget it once they wake up, but it always makes their heart race and they just cry till feel empty inside, like they are not even inside their own body, but hovering outside of it.

He could feel it, how disconnected they had now become from themself, the world, even him. They were with him yet not.

The next few nights, he runs different magical tests on them to see if he can find the source of these strange nightmares that seemingly force themself out of their own body.

He will get answers. Satan cannot leave his sweet Kitten with this issue.

Asmodeus:

One of the few brothers that MC never tried to hide their problem from, though partially because they usually sleeps in his bedroom so Azzy was woken up by their thrashing and cries from the nightmare a few nights before they tried to use caffeine and sleeplessness to fix their problem.

Keyword here is tried; their boyfriend refused to let them do this to themselves. He knew better than most how important sleep was for a person's health and beauty and wasn't about to let the human sabotage themselves.

Ends up lighting a calming incense and massaging their back and shoulders before launching into a talk session. What's the dream about? Has anything been making you stressed lately? Azzy needs to hear all of it.

Finds out that they've been dreaming about...well, their past with their family in the human world. Some bad memories that get twisted into something even worse in the dreams.

"Doll..." Asmo, still sitting behind them from the massage, wraps his arms around their waist and kisses their neck then cheek.

Has mega long vent session about their family in the human world. Asmo lost some precious beauty sleep, but it was worth it because when the two finally went to sleep, MC didn't have a single nightmare that night nor the next few nights after.

As long as the human vented every once in a while instead of bottling it up, his Dolly was able to sleep with no issues.

Beelzebub:

Another one MC shared a bed with and knew about their nightmares.

In all honesty, I just can't imagine MC trying to hide anything from him and make it far enough to even have the caffeine and sleepless night issue.

Beely is simply too caring and observant. He's also someone I'd personally have trouble lying to since he's so sweet and I think many others would feel the same.

Instead, the big guy would comfort them each night, waking them from their nightmare and hold them close for a while before asking if they want some water or snack.

He'd listen to his Muffin talk about their the nightmare if they comfortable with it and promise them that regardless of what the dream was about that they're safe with him.

Would probably go to Satan and ask what he knows about the topic and if there's anything he can do to help stop MC's nightmares.

The poor guys just never wants his Muffin to feel scared or unsafe, even in their sleep 😔

Belphegor:

Another brother they never lied to about it, but honestly, only because MC was never given the chance to.

I mean really, how do you hide sleep and dream issues from the freaking Avatar of Sloth?

The very first night they had the nightmare, Belphie was woken up by some of their thrashing and cries.

Instead of waking them up however, the demon used his powers to slip into their dream to see what was causing them to break down so hard in their sleep

And didn't like the answer he found.

When he peaked into their dream...he discovered that it was about that night. About the Incident™️.

He watched another version of himself with his hand wrapped his Human's throat, killing them all over again.

Honestly, the sloth demon isn't when he did it, but found his real self materialized in the dream and on top of his dream version, beating down on the fake him and eventually choking him till the fake simply disappeared in a puff of smoke.

MC was on the ground, regaining their breath as they watched the two Belphies fight. When the fight was over and the remaining Belphie was alone on the floor, crying angry and frustrated tears, the human got up and rushed over to him.

Belphie pushed them away, avoiding their hug.

"Dummy. You shouldn't try to comfort me. I haven't even told you this is a dream yet..."

MC had no way of knowing what was happening then was a dream so from their point of view in this small memory turned dream, Belphie was nothing more than a copy of the man who tried to kill them, but they still felt the need to comfort him...

Devil, he didn't understand them. Not in this moment in the dream or in the waking world. This human... after everything, how can they care about him? How can they love him?

"Dream?"

And with that, Belphie made them wake up and the two were back in the real attic, curled up in bed.

The man sat up and scooted over to the edge of the bed, feet on the floor and head in his hands.

It took the human a few moments to adjust to what just happened, but eventually they wiped a few tears away and scooted behind him, hugging their boyfriend from behind.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. You didn't do anything wrong, Butthead..."

Man, what's wrong with them? Belphie just didn't understand them. His brain was stuck on a loop with that thought.

"Belphie, I know you're different. You're not the same now as you were that night."

"Yeah, but I still did it," He raised his head and turned around to face him. "And don't pretend that it doesn't matter anymore because you wouldn't being having a nightmare about it if it didn't matter."

Their boyfriend had a point. The Incident™️...it was a traumatic experience for them. I mean, they died. Yet because MC forgives him and has fallen for him, they try to so hard to downplay it so they won't hurt him, but in truth, all it does is drive the seventh brother crazy.

"...You're right. It does matter." MC said softly. "But not as much as you matter to me."

MC took his hand and squeezed it.

"I love you... I don't want you hurt over this anymore."

"What, like it's okay that you hurt over?" Belphie took his hand back and stared intensely at them. "Promise me. Promise you won't keep downplaying this and you'll let me...shit, I don't know. Do anything you need."

"I..." MC lowered their head. "Okay."

Belphie pulled his Human into a hug.

"I love you, Butthead." He mumbled. "Don't ever try putting me before your own feelings or even your mental health. I'm not worth that..."

[aggressive-positivity-network]

mercs and nightly rituals? 👀

Those are the kind of off-the-wall asks I live for!

Spy:

The Frenchman has a very strict retiring routine.

It might have been because of his meticulous nature, or maybe because of his time at the academy, but he had almost a sixth sense for his bedtime as a result.

No one was really sure why he was so strict about it.

He has left in the middle of card games, arguments, and chats just because it “time for him to sleep.”

After a bit of prodding from Engineer - whom Spy trusts more than any of the other mercs - he reveals that the spy school he went to had alarmed halls that activated at a certain time. A few students had even died as a result. The habit had come from a place of pure terror.

Engineer is slowly trying to break the habit. Spy can now wait ten minutes after his usual time.

Spy puts his pajamas neatly on his bed, which he makes each morning, and turns on the fan so that his pillow can cool while he’s getting ready.

He makes sure all of his disguises are in the right place, takes off his mask and puts it on his coat hanger, brushes his teeth for two minutes exactly (again, an academy habit), and then changes completely into his pajamas.

Finally, he flips the switch next to his bed to activate his alarm system.

Spy goes to bed, sleeping on his back, and barely moving until morning.

And Scout learned the hard way that Spy keeps his butterfly knife in a makeshift pocket carved into the mattress.

Scout:

Can and will just konk out wherever possible.

He’s fallen asleep in Engineer’s workshop, outside, in his doorway, on the floor, against the wall...dude has even fallen asleep in the middle of hitting someone with his bat (NyQuil coma).

He will sleep anywhere, usually not his own bed.

His sleep schedule is also all out of whack, which is why he drinks so many Bonks.

He doesn’t have ADHD - his bloodstream is just pure caffeine and sleepy giggles.

If you get close enough to him, you can actually see dark circles under his eyes. He tells everyone they’re bruises.

“This...uh...Soldier punched me in the face! Yeah, that’s it!”

Boston boy, I love you, but please take a nap.

Take two. God dangit.

He very rarely changes into pajamas, he just strips and jumps in bed. He always brushes his teeth, though - he takes special care of his teeth.

Scout says their his “bread and butter.”

He also literally jumps in bed because he has a fear of somebody reaching out from under the bed and grabbing him if he gets in bed too slow.

Sometimes he even takes a running start.

He’s broken several bedframes that way.

Heavy:

Heavy has the standard fare: putting on his pajamas, brushing his teeth, and washing his face.

When he gets in bed, though, he picks up a book he got at the nearby library and starts to read it.

He has these small reading glasses that barely stay on his nose.

This is mostly to help him read and speak English, so he occasionally reads sentences that he doesn’t understand out loud.

He also has a legal pad next to his bed, which he uses to write down any words he doesn’t understand.

In the morning, he usually goes to Miss Pauling or Medic and asks what certain words mean.

He is currently at a middle-school reading level, and his favorite novel by far is The Giver.

He even bought the Russian audiobook so he could better understand the message.

He’s also a big fan of To Kill A Mockingbird, but he had an incident where Miss Pauling had to explain why their word for black person was so hurtful and why it should never be used.

Heavy didn’t understand at first, so Miss Pauling had to relate them to Russian slurs. Heavy understood really quickly after that.

His copy now has all the slurs blacked out in ink.

“What if Demo reads? I need to...disappear them.”

Sniper:

He almost always practices his shot before he goes to bed.

It helps him relieve all the daily stress.

You can tell if Sniper is having trouble sleeping because of the gunshots.

“‘Old on, mate, one more round.”

One time, after being ghosted for a date, he stayed up shooting until six in the morning.

The only reason he stopped was because he had tears in his eyes and couldn’t see the target anymore.

He ended up just sitting on the floor and cleaning his gun while trying to not get tears on the muzzle.

No one knew what had happened, but they did notice that Sniper stabbed his enemies a little harder and more violently that afternoon. He even broke a Scout’s spine because he walked on the body after withdrawing the knife.

Do. Not. Anger. The. Aussie.

Demo:

Demo drinks so often and so much that he usually doesn’t sleep during the night.

This has scared his teammates on multiple occasions, since you can’t exactly see uniform color in the dark.

He has been shot and/or trapped on multiple occasions, especially by Spy, who is a very light sleeper.

It got to a point where he now has to wear fluorescent bands so that people know he isn’t an enemy.

He also has a “sleeping eyepatch” that’s made out of the same cloth as his pajamas.

It has blue stripes and a little black X in the middle.

Engineer:

He tends to turn his light on and off many times before actually going to sleep.

Engineer also does this with his lamp, and if anybody ever walks by his room and asks why, he says that he needs to turn it off and on until it “feels right.”

He also checks every alarm system before he goes to bed.

And if there is a single update, virus, or false alarm, he has to get up and fix it.

He also tends to get very anxious at night, especially if he’s overtired or recovering from an injury.

If he and Scout are up at the same time (Scout gets nighttime anxiety as well) they make each other hot chocolate and watch MythBusters.

Engineer likes the explanations, Scout likes the explosions.

They either fall asleep on the couch or wait until Spy comes and makes his complaint known.

Since Spy’s so quiet, he has been known to move Scout, cloak as Engineer, and then scare the living daylights out of the Texan when he wakes up.

Engineer more than gets him back come next day’s battle, though.

Soldier:

Soldier has his own room on the other side of the base

And there is certainly a reason.

He fights with his pillow until he goes to sleep, making all sorts of ungodly noises.

At first the mercs thought Soldier was having some overzealous “private time”.

One night they walked in on him to find a triumphant Soldier body slamming his pillow.

He even drew Hitler’s face on it with a Sharpie.

I mean, he could be into that.

Honestly, no one knows.

Pyro:

As stated in a previous post, Pyro catches fireflies to use as a nightlight in order to go to sleep.

However, while the sun is still setting, Pyro winds down by sorting their shell and trash collection.

She sorts by color, then shape, then material.

If there are any new additions, he cleans them and put them in their own drawer.

They have a little plastic dresser they keep everything in.

Their favorite additions are pieces of broken glass from beer and whiskey bottles, bonus points if they are tinted a cool color.

They also have these sheets with a bunch of sheep and cows in nighcaps.

If they are feeling scared or overtired, however, they sleep in a unicorn sleeping bag surrounded by beanie babies she has collected over the years.

Fun fact: they sleep with their mask off, and for that reason, they usually sleep with a pillow on their head and their comforter on top of that to hide their face.

If they are in their sleeping bag, they zip it as far as they can upwards without struggling for air.

Medic:

You think you have a bad sleep schedule?

Hah! How cute.

He will run on energy serum and cocaine for an entire week, then disappear into his room for a few days.

And yet he always makes it to battle.

Some think he may have a clone, some think he has the ability to see the future. Neither would surprise anyone.

When he does sleep, though, he is fully clothed and usually holding either an organ or his bonesaw.

He has lost many specimens that way.

Archimedes usually wakes him up if he falls asleep at his desk, as Medic trained him to do. However, this doesn’t work very well if his head is down on his desk because of a mental breakdown. But hey, you can’t win them all.

Heavy has slowly been trying to change Medic’s sleep schedule. He’ll offer him tea around nine, or ask if he wants to go for a walk at eight. He’s trying to link relaxation with night.

It’s been working so far, but there’s only so much you can do.

Ms. Pauling:

What’s sleep?

@uprisist

[motherjoel]

fine line series (spencer reid x reader)

part 2/3- falling

summary: you and spencer are facing the aftermath of a breakup neither of you were prepared for

a/n: once again, you don’t need to know the song to enjoy this but i recommend listening! it captures the energy/vibe i was trying to create with this lolll

wc: 1.5k

part 1, part 3

-

im in my bed

and you’re not here

and there’s no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands

-

It had been two weeks. Two weeks of Spencer spending every free moment in bed, two weeks of you crying yourself to sleep. Emily told you that you had made the right decision, but nothing about this felt right. Work was different. The whole team knew what had happened, and for once you were glad that Penelope had a big mouth- you’d rather not break the news. 

On the jet ride home from a particularly gruesome case, it took everything in your being to avoid curling up next to Spencer and falling asleep to his heartbeat. Instead, you took a seat next to Morgan and leaned your head on his shoulder. Morgan did his best to soothe you, but he didn’t have the somehow magical abilities that Spencer had of making you feel instantly better. You didn’t notice the longing glances from your ex from across the jet, but you purposefully refused to look at him- you couldn’t let yourself fall again. 

Spencer couldn’t stand his empty apartment. He knew what emptiness felt like and because of this, he defined his life in two segments: before he met you and after. He hated knowing you were still out there hurting and his apartment had returned to the lifeless black hole he had known it to be before you.

He had stopped drinking after an intervention from JJ, but the empty bottles remained in his trash can. Spencer had made it a habit to stay at work after everyone had already left- he was known to be a workaholic, but sometimes he finished early- on those days, he stared at his files and thought about what he could’ve done differently.

The team didn't take sides- there was no reason to. Neither of you were in the wrong. Morgan had gotten closer to you, though, and Reid noticed. He tried to push down his jealousy however, as that's how he got into this situation in the first place. He felt like he had lost his two best friends in one fell swoop- Derek spent his time comforting you, and he rarely ever teased Spencer anymore with funny nicknames. Nobody joked around anymore, and it was like the office was sucked dry of joy. Much like Spencer.

One night, he almost called you. His finger lingered over your speed dial button for five minutes before he decided better of it and clicked a different number. The phone was answered with a groggy “hello?” It was midnight.

“I miss her,” he croaked, eyes red from the tears threatening to fall. 

“I’ll be right over,” came the voice of Derek Morgan, the man who Spencer had originally blamed his unhappiness on. He hung up and let his phone drop to the ground, not having the strength to pick it up before curling onto the couch and hugging a pillow. 

He wasn’t sure how long it had been- his depressive state was affecting his concept of time- but soon enough, he heard a knock coming from his door. Dragging his feet and holding onto the same pillow, he opened it to see his worried friend. Without another word, Spencer dropped his pillow and pulled Derek into a hug. He was surprised at first, but soon enough he returned the sentiment. After a minute, the two walked over to the couch and began to talk- something Spencer had missed so dearly. 

“What if i'm someone she won't talk about?” Spencer asked, softly. Derek looked confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“What if… what if she just forgets about me? I’d rather she resent me then just-just forget about me. About us,” Spencer said, wiping his tears. 

“She loves you, pretty boy,” Derek told him, honestly.

“She doesn't need me. I get the feeling she’ll never need me again,” Spencer said, so soft that Derek could barely hear him.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but… man, she needs you,” Derek confessed, thinking back to your late night phone calls and conversations on the jet. You needed him, and if anyone knew that, it was Morgan. “You just have to give her time. I doubt we’ve seen the last of Reid and Y/L/N,” Morgan said, placing a hand on his back.

Spencer didn’t have anything else to say. He simply hoped Morgan was right. Morgan stayed until Spencer fell asleep, and he actually slept through the night for the first time in two weeks. 

-

After that night with Morgan, Spencer had begun to wallow less. He missed you more than he missed anything, but if Derek was right and you truly only needed time, he was willing to give that to you. As much as it was hurting him to see you, he wanted to attempt a truce- he wanted to be able to be in the same room as you and not have to cut the tension with a knife. So when you and him were the only two people in the breakroom getting coffee, he shot you a soft smile. 

“The coffee is surprisingly good today,” he remarked, pouring himself a cup. It was a harmless comment, really- surely not enough to send you into a spiral. But it was the first time you heard his voice in weeks, or at least the first time he sounded semi-happy. Happier than you. Neither of you expected you to storm out of the room, and it took everything in Spencer to stay put- it wasn’t his job to comfort you anymore. So he just watched you go. He hated watching you go.

Your vision blurred with tears as you bursted into the bathroom, not bothering to check if anyone was inside. Sliding down the wall, you sat on the floor with your arms wrapped around your legs. How could he still have that effect on you? Tears were streaming down your face as you thought about how badly you had messed up, and it only took a quick smile and a few words from him to unleash the dam. 

You wished you had checked the stalls before breaking down when Emily came out of one. She was shocked to see you on the floor for a moment, but soon understood as she quickly sat down next to you and put a soothing hand on your back. Your sobs continued as she rubbed your back, slowly calming you down. After a few minutes, JJ walked into the bathroom.

“There you guys are, I was looking for yo- whats wrong?” she asked with motherly concern, kneeling down next to you guys. 

“I’m such a mess,” you looked at JJ as she mirrored Emily’s soothing motions. “I wish I could take it back, I can't take it back,” you cried softly into Emily's shoulder as she shushed you like a mother would her crying toddler.

“He still loves you, you know,” JJ whispered. You found this hard to believe, but if he still loved you half the amount you did him, it was a relationship worth saving. “He’s hurting,” she told you. You felt terrible that it was comforting to know he missed you, that he was in pain just like you.

“It’s going to be okay,” Emily whispered, pulling you into a hug. The physical contact was overwhelming at first, but you soon melted into her embrace as you hadn’t had a hug like this in awhile. JJ hugged you from the other side and you cried harder- you loved these ladies. As much as you missed him, knowing that everyone was rooting for you both was good. After you had finally calmed down, the three of you walked back into the room where the rest of the team was, scattering and trying to act like they hadn't just been talking about you. Spencer's face was red and Morgan was a little too focused on his paperwork. 

As you walked up to your desk, Rossi was waiting for you with a coffee in hand. You thanked him for it and pulled him into a quick hug.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” he whispered in your ear mid-hug. You nodded and thanked him again before sitting down and checking your reflection in the mini mirror on your desk. God, you looked like a mess. You attempted to put yourself back together, fixing your hair and mascara.

When you were finished with the mirror, your attention shifted over to the picture frame next to it. It was of you and Spence, taken at the beach. You recalled the day fondly- it was a team beach day and you all had relaxed for the first time in months. You almost didn't recognize your happy faces.

With a sigh, you put the picture frame face down so you didn’t have to look at it. Spencer noticed this and tried his best to ignore it, but his heart was heavy as he looked at Morgan, who had also noticed. He gave him a look of sympathy before focusing back on his paperwork. Spencer spent the rest of the day stealing glances at you, your face sullen and pale. He hated knowing that he caused your pain.

taglist: @easygoingtheatre, @rexorangecouny, @kaytlyngraygubler, @fear-less-write-more, @yesimaunicorn 

[aggresivelyfriendly]

‘Tis the Damn Season- Chapter 2

Winter Wonderland

Hello loveys! Here is chapter two, a new year, a new world, a new Harry video! Thank you to @dirtystyles for fixing my tenses, which I promptly messed up by revising and adding. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Happy reading- reblogs are love!

Emma was annoyed before she even caught her flight, but she loved airports, so she got lost in watching the peculiar things people did in the there to sublimate what was probably just anxiety. She'd once watched a boys' trip, maybe a bachelor party, get on a plane and begin toasting at 5:30 am. The groom had almost bought the whole plane a round, but one of his mates had stopped him. She assumed this wasn't his first beer of the day, but maybe it was the last of the night before?

People acted different in airports.

That had been her first flight to Holland. When she went to her interview at Wageningen University and Research Center. She really needed to impress, she'd pressed her outfit more than she had ironed anything since she'd been taught to do it. This was her dream school and the climate research they did was groundbreaking and she wanted to be part of it so much that she was willing to do whatever it took. Beyond the heavy course load she could expect during the regular school years, the top students got amazing summer work or internships. She'd promised herself she would not be going home for breaks for some time. Honestly she was just fine with that. There wasn't much left for her in Holmes Chapel.

There wasn't much in Holmes Chapel at all.

She'd wanted to move from the little village the minute they'd moved there when she was eleven. Sure it was cute, picturesque and maybe something out of a Jane Austen novel, but Emma did not read much Pride and Prejudice. Though she definitely had seen Mr. Darcy come out of the pond. Honestly, she was more of a nonfiction girl, and she like investigative reporting. She'd missed London pretty much immediately and begged to go back for months. It was a time in her life she would have called the absolute worst, until it became the foundation for the best years. Emma made really good, motivated friends. Big dreams were common in little Holmes Chapel, so Emma fit right in. It may have never felt like home exactly, but she made a home of those friends.

Gemma was one of them. She had done her share of Austen reading. Reading in general, and she had the sweetest family. Her little brother Harry was so nice to their mum, though he loved nothing more than bugging Gemma. Like all little brothers. She'd heard at least, Emma was an only child.

All her parents' hopes and dreams rested right on her shoulders.

But theirs weren't nearly so weighty as her own. Even then she knew she was going to save the planet, or at the very least reduce the number of climate refugees.

Now, after two summers in Reykjavik, she was more into sustainable energy and zero waste production, but she was still trying to change the climate game.

She would really rather be going back to Iceland now. A friend had invited her to see the Northern Lights. They were most active in the winter and she'd only caught glimpses of them during her summer internships. It may have been the experience of a lifetime.

But her mother had laid on a major guilt trip. Emma hadn't been back to little Holmes Chapel in two years. She'd come home that first Christmas because she was tired, overwhelmed, still adjusting to her school schedule, and a little homesick. Her mother told her so. She'd even skipped the Twist's Christmas party, which was the shindig of the season. She'd slept right through it, and only seen Gemma at the pub later. She hadn't been up for company, but Gemma was family.

This year? After a year's absence, she'd be going. And she'd receive the hometown-hero-returns treatment. Though she was sure her reception at the airport would consist of her mum with a single sign. When she did make it to the pub, she might see a few friendly faces besides Gemma. Last time? Since she'd missed the party, she didn't have anything to contribute to the discussion. She'd just listened to everybody else rehash it. Normally, that would be fine, but she already felt removed, and had always felt a bit like a screw among nails in Holmes Chapel, so she was determined to go to the party this year. She had all kinds of plans, how many hours she'd socialize, rest, and read.

The flight was easy at least, and the train up to Manc doubly so. She liked to sleep on trains, something about the rocking, and she resumed her old habit of sleeping wrapped around her backpack.

"Welcome home, love!" Her mother shouted and Emma actually got a little misty, just like her Mum. Maybe she should try to get home more than once a year, but there's just so much she wants to accomplish. She even had a list. All the things she wanted to do before she turned thirty. It's been revised of course, she'd not unrealistic. Once the list is complete, she can have a life outside her ambitions, like a real boyfriend.

There's not much time for anything but hook-ups for the next ten years., and Emma was ok with that.

Up til now. She might need another pass at her bullet points, or to at least read her goals again when she got to the Twist's new brick beauty of a house. Harry had bought his mum a new home, one not watched as closely by his obsessive fans. They hadn't found this one yet.

Emma could see why they followed him around so, and why some people risked it all for a certain face. His face, his very famous, gorgeous face.

It was so weird that Harry wasn't just Gemma's little brother who grew up cute anymore. His music wasn't really her style, though some of the songs were catchy and Emma did like his latest album. She caught herself humming about life stories long after she heard it, and she seemed to hear his latest single playing in lots of shops and restaurants, even in Holland.

At the party, she also found herself in the same room as Harry more often than she can find an excuse for. Her eyes also seemed to find him a lot, she knew because of how many times she had to whip her head away quickly. As a tactic, that didn't work because he was always either already looking at her,or he immediately turned like he knews where she was. Maybe her gaze had weight, or she was as subtle as an axe.

When he smirked at her the tenth time their eyes lit upon each other, she choked on her wine.

What the fuck?

She'd finally got herself calmed from that little encounter. Mostly because she left the room to find a loo. The water she splashed on her face was cold and woke her up. "What are you doing, girl?" Emma asked her reflection but found that she couldn't help but smile at herself, and bite her lip. The flush on her cheeks was lovely; she could blame the wine, everyones favorite excuse.

An hour later she was pleasantly tipsy, the kind of buzz you could maintain and still wake up the next day not regretting, and she'd gone to the kitchen to grab another glass to nurse her merry state. "Be right back. We need another round!" She was calling back to Gemma when she bumped into a tall lanky body. She caught his hips with one hand and found them with just enough give to grip. "Oof!" She exclaimed before looking up to see how much damage her wine had done. Good thing she drank white, there was a growing spot ok his sweater. Wait a second! Then she coasted her head up the lovely lilac sweater toward his face. "That's my sweater." She said first off, bopping his chin.

"Um, no, mine now." Oh, his voice was adorably thick with drink too. "You give it to Gem or something?"

What was he talking about? Her eyes stayed with his and she was kinda trapped in his greens when she realized he meant the sweater. She had, right. "I'm yeah, years ago. Was my favorite and we shared it a lot. I decided she should have it before I moved. And I guess she decided you should have it when you moved. Though I expect your life change was a little different than mine. Yours was like overnight and mine a life long plan, and oh my god, Emma stop talking." She would have kept rambling except, well, he kissed her, right on the mouth and held his overfilled lips to her own. No, overfilled wasn't true. They were full, but not crazy big, they just were so plump at the edges. God, when had she thought about Harry's lips so much.

Right now, as much as she could think of anything, it was Harry's lips. She'd relaxed into his rhythm and was following his lead when her free hand took on a mind of its own and coasted from his hips up his back and into his hair. He groaned a little before he disengaged and then chuckled.

"Well," he said as the offending hand went to her mouth. Maybe she did need to stop drinking. That was bold, unlike her, and strange. But wait! What just happened? Why did he kiss her?.

"Huh?"

"I think that beat my last mistletoe kiss and I'd convinced myself that was impossible!" He was giving her a knowing look, like a wink in his smile. Did he kiss somebody else tonight? She looked up at him and tried not to be annoyed, or feel jealous, or focus on the shape of his mouth, still a little wet from her kiss. Was he just hanging out by the mistletoe like a weirdo? Seemed odd for a bloke people were lining up to meet, let alone kiss.

"Why'd you do that?" She found her voice to ask. It was rusty, like she hadn't just been laughing and talking for hours with people she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed.

"You bumped into me under the mistletoe. I assumed you wanted me to." Well, she did while he was kissing her, but now he was being a bit of an ass.

"Um, you were just in the way..."

"Well, I'll have to find myself in your path as often as possible then." Ok, that was cute, a bit cocky, like the smirk on his face. Then his face flushed and his dimples were so deep and she decided that shift, from smirky pop star to hometown mumma's boy was the best quick change she had ever seen. "Ah, see, that got you to smile!" He bopped her nose and she knew her own dimple pressed in even further.

"Nah, you're a little shit, but I like your smile. Especially when you blush." The color he turned then made her laugh out loud. She felt drunk when she realized how long they'd been staring at each other grinning. She was counting her drinks a second later when he caught her off guard again.

"Where'd you just go?"

"Wha'?" Oh boy, she'd dropped her t, she was really home now.

"We were having a moment." He motioned between their faces. "Then you went in your head. Lost your attention, didn't like it at all."

Then he caught her hand, their fingers entwined together like their lips moments before. It was hot in there. Emma shook her head and glanced around, but she didn't untangle them. She looked at her boots and felt shy. But Emma wasn't shy, Harry used to be shy, though now he was bolder than her, apparently.

"Listen," he started and she looked up to his eyes again. When had they gotten so attractive? What had gone on with him in the last couple years? Other than the international superstardom she supposed, but he'd grown into himself, like expanded his skin and presence. He was cute, but all she could think was that the end of puberty was rarely so damn kind. His fingers even seemed attractive, long and slim and she was imagining him playing piano, but then the instrument was her body, and damn, she was in her head again. She could feel that her eyes widened comically. She knew her pupils were blown. When was the last time she'd gotten laid? Apparently too long if holding hands had her imagining unspeakable things and holding in moans.

He smirked then, she guessed he knew where she went then. "Listen," he leaned in close and she nodded, their noses brushed. He exhaled and her lips tingled. "Where are you staying?"

"Huh?" She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say, but that wasn't it.

He giggled, and it was cute enough that Emma felt a splash of awareness hit her face. She looked around to see if anybody saw them flirting if she could disengage her gaze. "Are you at your parents?"

"Oh, um yeah?"

"Are you sure?" He laughed then and the brush of his thumb across the back of her hand was warmer than the mulled wine in her belly.

"No, I'm sure, just not sure why you are asking." She nudged him and realized a bit too late that her nipples touched him first, she was only half sorry this top meant no bra when she felt the friction.

It was his eyes' turn to widen. "Um," he exhaled and she missed his eyes when he quickly glanced down her dress like there might be a cookie there and then up quickly like he remembered he wasn't supposed to have any sweets. "Ok, um," he said after he visibly took hold of himself, "I was just hoping you had a room above the pub or something."

She knew her face called him idiot better than her mouth could.

He rolled his eyes, "I know, it was a shot in the dark!"

"Did you expect me to slide you my room key if I did?" Emma flashed her eyebrows like she wasn't imagining him finger fucking her with his piano hands a moment ago. "Isn't that your move?" She teased, kind of. She imagined he knew his way around hotel rooms, and women in them.

"Heeeey," he was being cute but the corners of his eyes dropped a moment and the green dulled. "It's not like that."

Emma scoffed.

"Well, I mean," his other hand found hers and now if anyone was watching them they were getting a show. "If it was like that, I wouldn't say no, but just want to hear about Holland, seems so amazing, and where you are in the summers..."

She could see him racking his brain.

"Iceland." They said together. And then giggled together too.

"You been keeping tabs on me?" She leaned forward and enjoyed the brush of him on her again. He shivered.

"Yeah, always admired you." He looked at her through his lashes. "I'd like to hear more reasons you're the most impressive person I've ever met."

"But I don't have a place." She reminded him.

"If I got one?"

"What?" She thought she knew what he was asking, but she wanted a minute to think about her answer, to quiet the resounding YES that echoed in her body and her mind. Because he might have said it wasn't like that, but they were chest to chest and had been holding hands since they kissed moments ago.

He looks down chagrined at his pigeon toes, before his gaze lit on their hands, then her face. "If I got a room at the Vicarage? Would you come with me? Really! We can really just talk." He assured and then the cocky boy who found his stride in hotel room assignations showed out, "if you want." Those dimples were deadly.

"Can it be the Boar's Head?" She knew she'd showed her cards, by asking for a room the town over.

He nodded and grinned like he'd just hit the hotpicks. "It can be the Boar's Head." He nodded like a dashboard bobble head. "I have to make nice here a bit longer, but I'll call now, and put your name on, so you can go when you're ready."

They'd been standing close for just a few more seconds when Gemma said- "Harry! Get off. God you are such a flirt!" But she was in her cups too, so they laughed it off.

The next hour, Emma stayed near Gem, but her eyes tracked Harry. Once, he came by and stole a sip of Gem's cocktail off her and Emma was glad her friend's ire distracted her, because Emma was watching him giggle like a fiend and the contraction of his throat. When their eyes met, she knew hers made a promise. One she wanted to keep.

So now she was alone in a couple of quaint rooms a town over, waiting to have sex with Gemma's little brother, Harry Styles.

She was torn, half of her wanted to open the bottle she'd swiped from the alcohol table at the party. The other half wanted to call an Uber and go back to her parents' house, where she should have stopped and grabbed some clothes so she wouldn't have to do the walk of shame.

But getting clothes would have meant forethought; she will deny that, especially to herself.

Emma had just opened the uber app and cursed their rural area when she heard a key in the lock.

Like a gun at the races.

They were never going to just talk. She'd just dropped her phone on the couch before Harry laid the first kiss on her.

The first kiss she planned to really remember, that is. Their mistletoe kiss had caught her off guard enough that she could only remember the feelings, not the details.

Yet, she was here, kissing him in a rented room after sneaking out of his mum's Christmas Eve party, on the strength of those feelings.

The kiss started strong and sweet, just like she takes her tea. He didn't taste like tea, he tasted like wine, Merlot maybe, but it could have been any red. And his tongue had this delicious slither to couple with its intoxicating flavor. She was in for a penny when she rode over here, but now there was no way she was going anywhere but to bed with him, no matter how pound foolish. He was nipping at her bottom lip and mouthing at her jaw before he sucked an almost mark into her collarbone and love bites onto the sides of her neck. He was just about to hit a particular sweet spot while working off her clothes, his hands were at her zipper. The cheeky boy, and she felt like they should at least hit pause even if stop was off the table.

"Harry," she moaned, or breathed, it was a sound she'd never made before.

"Hmmm?" He asked without stopping any of his forward momentum.

"I thought we were gonna talk." That one was like a laugh, there was a trill in her voice certainly.

"We'll talk afterwards." He said it like a statement, but looked to her for confirmation. At her nod, her skirt dropped and his hands were all over her bare ass above the stockings she'd worn to feel sexy but hadn't expected anyone to see. She normally would have worn tights. Thick ones, certainly, in Amsterdam. It would have been smarter here too. It was at least as cold. She'd been feeling that mix of confidence and self consciousness one gets when seeing people from your past when you think you've leveled up. She wanted to feel her best, look her best. Sexy, even if no one was interested. She's thankful, both for his interest and her unintended preparation. When he caught the sides of her knickers while her shirt and bra were as untouched as his clothes, she figured she needed to get with it. She'd been clutching his shoulders and his gorgeous hair instead of doing anything of use to their current pursuit.

Emma pulled at his shirt until it came over his messed up disheveled hair and laughed at the hodge podge of black ink haphazardly spread over his torso and one arm. "What's this then?" She said between licks of his tongue.

"After, we talk after!" He'd gotten her shirt unwrapped. She liked that detail of the shirt too, a sexy secret, like her matching bra. He pulled back to stare and was distracted long enough for her to give him another look over. He does look sexy in his decorated skin.

"What do they mean?" She liked things to make sense, her world was ordered, scientific.

Harry shrugged. "Lots of different things. Or nothing. Now can we please go to bed and we can discuss my stupid tattoos after I've had you."

"Oh fuck,'' was all she could say to that. He smirked and hoisted her up his hips to carry her through the open frame to the bedroom. He pulled her knickers free as soon as she was done bouncing.

She'd just about caught her breath when she saw him go for the button of his jeans. She lost it again when his thick bulge became visible and he pushed his tight jeans forcibly down his thighs. "Damn!" She looked at him with a glint.

He mounted the bed and spread her open, kissed her right knee over her stocking, which he seemed intent in keeping on, and looked pointedly at her center. She was swollen, his eye contact with the evidence didn't help. "Damn!" He echoed and she would have laughed but Harry, Gemma's sexy little brother, was kissing up her right thigh, with just a few licks and nips to her hip creases and so damn close to where she wanted him before he was testing the fuck out of her by kissing and licking and loving her left thigh. Ignoring her desperate need.

"Fuck, Harry. Please." She'd got the bedspread balled in her hands and she would normally have removed that before considering getting into the bed but she was also usually in pajamas and alone.

The filthy things he was saying were way worse than whatever could have been on the bedspread. Though she enjoyed them a great deal more, and it made her happy to have taken off everything already.

Harry had finally gotten to the main course. Only After her begging got loud enough to be heard by the room next door and the innkeeper, she won't make eye contact with anyone tomorrow. Maybe not even Harry, if he stayed. Emma had his full attention now, she could learn about all the things his mouth could do. The wet flat of his tongue caressed her like she was a bit of deliciousness and sunk down to find her creamy center.

"Fuck!" She yelped when he sealed his mouth over her for a tight suck and rub until she was rolling and writhing and fighting against the arms banded around her thighs. He laid one across her belly to hold her down.

"Do you like that?" He kept going because her answer was obviously yes. When the arm not restraining her passion made its piano fingered way between her thighs to do the thing she'd imagined earlier, sliding in tightly where she was wet and wanting, she clenched down on his three fingers and said his name.

He slid up her body and reached for the condom, but Emma had gotten her head back around to stop him before he got it on. She hated the taste of rubbers, and she'd like to know his flavor first. "Wait." She leaned forward between his legs and stroked him base to tip. He really was well favored, and not just from the neck up. She pressed his length to his stomach and licked the seam from his balls around and up to his head before she got a mouthful of him. Now he was her dessert. She didn't even think to try the pies and things at the party, she had been so preoccupied with the taste she'd had of him. It was but an appetizer for this. He leaked on her tongue and she moaned and hummed.

"Jesus! Emma! Stop, I'm gonna!" He pushed her back. And she was a little mad he'd taken away her sweetie. "Enough. I'd like to get inside you."

That was a suggestion she could take. So, she lay back and thought of anything but England while he stroked his skinned cock and spat over the tip. God. The way his stomach flexed caused an aftershock to recapture her. "Harry?" His name a plea. His knees hit the bed and her heels pressed him toward her, toward them.

"God, I've never seen you like this!" She'd have to ask him what he meant by that, later. Then he nodded, using his thumb to press his cock head inside the tight ring of muscle at the top of her entrance. Except he was a little low.

"Uhh!" She glanced down and grabbed him to redirect. "Wrong one." She tried not to laugh.

"Sorry, might be a touch too eager." He confessed: She's now laughing, openly. "Hey! It may have went right in, as wet as you are?"

Now she'd be indignant if he wasn't so ridiculous. "Are you really complaining about how wet my pussy is?"

"No, no, that would make me an idiot right?" He asked and found the right spot to start pushing in.

This was always her favorite part, and since this was her favorite fuck already, she knew the pop when he got the lip of his head in would be enough to begin her tip over the edge.

She moaned even before he caught the exact right angle to square her desire and she clutched his back and lifted her bottom to chase his withdrawal. "It would, god, you're perfect, an idiot."

"Oh God, Em!" She liked that. And the kisses to her mouth and chin and neck. Messy and wet and out of control. He'd gone from deliberate and self possessed to a man overcome as he rolled his hips up and into her and against that delicious place inside.

"Harry, don't stop. I'm close." Her head fell back when he slowed down just enough to draw out her orgasm, bring it to the surface and ride it home. He stroked her through and then brought his hands under her ass to lift her pelvis up to his driving thrusts, more deliberate and direct than the ones he used to get her off. She watched his face scrunch, and then open, his jaw down and his eyes closed until he smiled and licked his lips.

It's that face she decided she wanted to see as much as she could.

And she did, it was made better when he bit his lip and laughed. "Am I a perfect idiot then?"

She was blissed out and couldn't stop herself saying, "no you're an idiot with a perfect cock!" He was just pulling out of her then, and she was so embarrassed when he stood up to tie off the condom and preened.

"Am I now?"

She was the idiot. "I'll Pay you to forget I said that!" Emma wants to scurry to the bathroom and get out of here. She's already feeling shame, may as well get the walk over with.

"I don't need any money." He's laughing now. Shes scooting to the restroom when he catches her hands and holds her close. "Where are you going. You owe me, you're gonna pay me in conversation."

Wait, he still wants to talk, even after they've done what they came to do. "Ok." Shes still a little embarrassed and pulling away.

"No, no, stay and talk, come back to bed and tell me about my perfect co—" she's clamping her hand over his mouth.

"Only if you shut up, and I have to have a wee first."

"After!" He begged. "I wanna hear about school and everything. What exactly you're doing to save the world."

"I'll tell you, I have to go after, prevents uti's and such." She hated being clinical, well right now.

"It does?" He asked and she nodded. "That's good to know."

She wants to be embarrassed, but his ease when she comes back from washing up, the way he is still naked and opens his arms to her, helping her find the right spot on top of him where they are both comfortable, it makes her less self conscious, about her little factoid, her nudity, or that she's essentially slept with him right off.

She sighs and is about to ask about the giant butterfly, moth, when he speaks. "Tell me about Holland, about school." His voice is like molasses, and her words come out as slow.

"It lovely, and school is so hard, some times I might as well move onto campus, live in the library-"

"You don't live on campus?" She shakes her head. "Do you ride your bike into town?"

"Yes, I do."

"Oh, you must send me a picture of you on your bike. In a dress." He wants to text.

"Then I want updates on any stupid tattoos you get!" She counters.

"You think my tattoos are stupid?" He pouts, and she's captivated by that face.

"Very." She kissed both sparrows beaks. "But their also sexy."

He likes that, his dimples say so. Then he asks about Iceland and they talk for an hour or more before she's over him, swallowing his moans. They have another go in the morning before leaving, he's hard to convince that she'll be fine with an Uber. If he drives her, it'll blow their cover.

She wound up in his suv anyway.

For the next week they snuck out to warm up the backseat of his Range Rover, her mother's kitchen counter, his childhood bedroom, and then the inn again the night before she left. Just for a few hours, she'd told her mum she was going to the pub to say goodbye to mates.

Their goodbye meant his face remained her go-to for the next year whenever she was alone in her room, at night, missing him.

"Can I have you again, next year? For Christmas?" He'd asked.

Who could say no to that?

She faced those plans unafraid, the ones they made, for the whole next year.

[ratsoh-writes]

Skeleboi[s?] that would work well with me in a relationship? 🥺

Name: Milo

Pronouns: She/They but don’t really care what people refer to me as Hair: I have a boy-cut/undercut. I am a natural brunette but I have blue highlights. Body type: I’m 5’3, and I’m sorta skinny but squishy (got a tum, thighs and squishy cheeks) Soul color: Probably green 💚 Personality: Curious, kinda Feral, Emotional, I’m not particularly feminine or masculine I kinda just exist, Super unmotivated but very hyper/passionate in the right moments, *Always* some level of confused How I am as a partner: I’m extremely cuddly and touch starved. I need a lot of reminders that I’m loved and I also tend to give constant reminders to people that I love them just in case they forget. I need a lot of communication and if we have a problem I CANNOT sweep it under the rug because I will bottle it up until I implode so I need somebody that is comfortable talking about feeling and being honest with me. My love language is physical affection and gift giving. Hobbies: Reading, Singing, Writing songs, Playing my ukulele, cosplaying, rambling about my hyperfixations, Learning every detail about the things I enjoy, doodling, befriending every animal that breaths in my direction (I love all animals but cats, dogs, and wild birds seem to really like me), I get stoned on occasion Habits and Odd Ticks: Teeth clicking (Sometimes it’s affectionate, sometimes it’s sassy), Mimicking animal noises (Really good at purring, growling, and bird calls), Walking around on the balls of my feet for literally no reason, I have actual ticks (mainly when i’m feeling big emotions like excitement or anxiety), Humming at random, Talking to myself in the mirror very regularly Strengths: Creative, Passionate, Empathetic, Good with words, Out of the box problem solver, Compassionate, Thoughtful when it counts Weaknesses: I’m a feeling magnet so I soak up negative energy like a sponge, suck at saying “no” or asking for help, bad habit of people pleasing, god-awful at taking care of myself (i forget to eat/drink and don’t sleep nearly enough), Crippling social anxiety, Underachiever (fear of failure), f*cking math (too many numbers on a page makes my brain short out pls don’t ever ask me to help with taxes), Crippling ADHD (have an awful time focusing, very easily spaced out and distracted, and my memory is garbage), Slow to process things, Can’t handle being rushed, Don’t ask me to multitask (unless you want me to accidentally burn the house down), I hate sharing so I can be a bit greedy at times Pet peeves: When I make a mistake and instead of telling me you pretend it’s fine but then hold it over my head in the future (like I can usually tell when I mess up and I can fix it but sometimes it takes me a minute and I can’t read your mind please tell me where I went wrong so I can actually fix the problem), When people take my food without asking (That’s a one-way ticket to lose-your-fingers-ville. Don’t f*cking touch my food unless I offer), Obnoxious chewing, NOT TELLING ME WHY YOU’RE ANGRY WITH ME, Constant loud noises give me horrible anxiety

ohhhhh skulryuuuu I know just who to pair you with! Lets go with OAK!

ok ok, so hear me out: Oak just wants someone who will be kind to him and his brother, stay honest, and accept him for who he is. He doesn’t mind an occasionally wild partner as long as they’re soft where it counts.

If you need lots of affection, then oak is your man! First, oak is extremely physically affectionate. He loves to cuddle, nuzzle, and hug his partners. Plus, oak has no fear in expressing his love. If you guys are dating and he thinks you’re being cute or extra sweet in that moment, the he just straight up says it. tbh the lack of filter might be a leftover of his head injury, but it also could just be oak and his blunt self. 

Now the biggies:Oak isn’t equipped to handle a SO with certain problems as he has himself to look out for. Luckily, anxiety is one of those things that oak could handle. He may be forgetful, so sometimes he forgets your tells or triggers, but that doesnt mean oak is any less observant than he used to be.  Oak can still pick up when you’re uncomfortable and will always leave with you if you need it. 

dating oak includes: 

sometimes you might have the same conversation twice, but that also means that if you ever do something sappy that catches oak by surprise, you can get him to blush at least twice or thrice before he manages to remember kinda mean but also really cute

If there's ever an animal that you want to pet, just have oak there and that cute furry baby will be melting right onto your hand. Oak somehow just magically brings out the friendly in animals. 

oak would love it if you played ukulele for him. He likes hearing the instrument, and just likes instrumentals in general. Also willow knows the ukulele too! duet time!

[officialleotolstoy]

Oh Dolokhov Brainrot We’re Really In It Now, aka Dolokhov playlist annotations!

A note on the cover photo: I don’t really like this one but I got tired of looking at men on Pinterest so I gave up. The window symbolizes the rum window and the smoking symbolizes uhhhhh habitual bad life choices idk

Drinking game take a shot every time I say “it’s about the vibes”

Wrecking Ball - Mother Mother

“I break it just because I can”

This is THEE ‘I am going to cause problems on purpose’ song and that is like his entire narrative purpose!! Argue with me about this one I dare you

The Good, The Bad, and the Dirty - Panic! At The Disco

“If you wanna start a fight you better throw the first punch, make it a good one”

Partially its just vibes, I won’t lie. But also the consistent spoiling for a fight is very in character

Shoot to Thrill - AC/DC

“I’m like evil, I get under your skin”

It’s got I Am Morally Repulsive But Also I’ll Steal Your Girl energy which really hits all of Dolokhov’s character traits. And of course the added bonus of gun imagery.

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

“It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this”

I added it strictly for vibes, but then I realized the quoted lyric is very much him @ the Kuragins if you take the reading that he refuses to admit he actually like them but grows genuinely fond of them over time even though he initially got to know them with a lot of ulterior motives.

Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen

“Mama, I just killed a man”

The amount of songs that are on these playlists just for what are essentially your mom jokes since Dolokhov loves his mom so much is a little pathetic. But I’m not wrong! I can’t really put it into words but something about this song has Dolokhov energy.

Feel It Still - Portugal the Man

“Give in to that easy living, goodbye to your hopes and dreams”

A good deal of what I find interesting about Dolokhov is the internal conflict he has of knowing he’s become rather wicked and problematic but also not really trying very hard to change and almost enjoying it so a lot of the songs on here are about that, including this one. The “I’m a rebel just for kicks now” also very much screams Causing Problems On Purpose.

The Bidding - Tally Hall

“I like to take advantage of the bourgeoisie”

His whole role in volume one and two is to take advantage of the bourgeoisie! This song also oozes confidence and a sense of superiority that comes from being better than the sellouts in high society, Dolokhov’s not like other girls uwu (he really is, but I don’t think he would admit that).

Say Amen (Saturday Night) - Panic! At The Disco

“I could be better but baby it’s Saturday night”

Embracing his own wickedness! The idea that he knows he could be better than he is but he doesn’t want to take that opportunity...yeah vibes

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) - Fall Out Boy

“I became such a strange shape from trying to fit in”

This is the epitome of the “woe is me I need to be purified” phase he goes through when he’s into Sonya. Also “I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker color” reminds me of Comet Dolokhov’s stupid eyeliner <3

Some Nights - fun.

“So what is this? I sold my soul for this?”

There’s a long stretch of this playlist that just boils down to “Woe is me I need to be purified” crisis hours, because Dolokhov’s oscillation between embracing his own cruelty and trying to be a good person is super interesting to me. This song captures the idea that he’s still having fun and there’s some good there, but he’s also aware that he’s losing himself a bit

Roaring 20s - Panic! At The Disco

“I don’t even know me”

“Woe is me i need to be purified” crisis AGAIN. This song gets more to the annoyance with society as a whole and feeling kind of lost in it

Send Them Off! - Bastille

“Help me exorcise my mind”

“Please purify me 16 year old girl! I’m 27 this isnt creepy at all ahahahha”. I do despise Sonyakhov but this has the vibes of a man feeling his own evil and wanting a woman to fix it. Not a great look.

Easy Days (Demo) - Bastille

“I don’t wanna fall back again, back into the easy days”

Near the end of the “woe is me I need to be purified” phase when he’s kind of drifting back to his old ways and he’s like wait no- wait- and then he does anyway because he’s horrible. I also really like the acknowledgment that his horribleness is easy and pleasant for him, and he has to fight against that (and he loses that fight HDJAJJD).

Undisclosed Desires - Muse

“You trick your lovers that you’re wicked and divine”

This is a Dolokhov/Nikolai song I do not take constructive criticism. Undisclosed desires...not being straight...lots to think about! It feels almost like a corruption arc? Nikolai isn’t corrupted nor does their...fling (?) last very long but Nikolai is obviously enamored with Dolokhov despite him being The Worst so I think this fits. I don’t have enough songs for a Nikolai/Dolokhov playlist so I just add those songs to both of their individual playlists

Thnks fr th Mmrs - Fall Out Boy

“Thanks for the memories even though they weren’t so great”

Also mostly a Nikolai/Dolokhov song. This man has never ended a relationship on good terms, huh. Also. Sighs heavily. “He tastes like you only sweeter” never fails to make me laugh when I think about it in the context of Dolokhov post-duel being like oh?? You’re just a stupid WOMAN Hélène your brother and/or Nikolai is hotter than you :/ which is not exactly what I think happened but it makes me laugh to consider. Dolokhov ur bitterrrrr

Dangerous - Royal Deluxe

“I’ll be the last man standing here, I’m not going anywhere”

I feel like this has the vibes of his cruelty, especially in that bit after the Kuragins have died when he and Petya infiltrate the French army.

Another One Bites The Dust - Queen

“There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man”

He will hurt you and kill you so violently :) It’s about the vibes.

White Wedding Pt. 1 - Billy Idol

“It’s a nice day to start again”

In the exact inverse to his “woe is me I need to be purified” phase, he’s like ok yes i will pick up bad habits again and enjoy them because frick you! I read once that this song is about a relapse into drugs, but I’m making it analogous to his relapse into Terrible Person Behavior after Sonya’s rejection. Also the repetition of the phrase little sister does something for my brain idk, after we know he loves his mom and sister it just fits.

Highway to Hell - AC/DC

“I’m on the highway to hell and I’m goin down”

Like White Wedding, it screams acceptance of his problematicness. He knows he’s cruel and evil and he revels in it. This is the phase we see him in most I think.

Back in Black - AC/DC

“It’s been too long, I’m glad to be back”

I think this plays every time he gets reinstated to an army position he lost by being reckless earlier. Just kidding sort of but listen to this song and tell me it doesn’t have Dolokhov vibes. If you do, you’re wrong <3

Poet - Bastille

“I have written you down now, you will live forever”

This is just here cause he ghostwrote Anatole’s love letters and I think it’s funny. It’s MY playlist and I get to choose the barely relevant Bastille songs

St. Jude - Florence + The Machine

“Maybe I’ve always been more comfortable in chaos”

This one’s more scattered lyrics than an overall vibe. “Each side is a loser so who cares who fired the gun” has duel energy also.

Hey Look Ma, I Made It - Panic! At The Disco

Confession: I hate this song. However, it’s about the about the MOM R U PROUD OF ME vibes (she is. Should she be? Probably not).

Rich Kids - Bea Miller

“It’s never enough for the stuck up types”

The not coming from wealth and having to almost scam your way into being part of the aristocratic scene is very Dolokhov. Also in my mind the rich kid he’s roasting is specifically Nikolai.

Money, Money, Money - ABBA

“It’s a rich man’s world”

I’m not SAYING the wealthy man they talk about is Anatole but - [i am shot]. Scheming and clawing your way up to wealth is Dolokhovcore.

This Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco

I literally have no justification for this other than that i think modern AU Dolokhov would vibe with it. Look at the amount of eyeliner he wears in Comet and tell me he didn’t have an emo band phase. You can’t.

Trouble’s Coming - Royal Blood

This is not about the words at all, it’s more about the vibes. It just sounds Dolokhovish to me, don’t ask me to explain.

Sleep Alone - Two Door Cinema Club

“They’re just ghosts and they can’t hurt him if he can’t see them”

This gives me post-Kuragins’ death vibes, and I can’t pin down exactly why? I think it’s the idea of being very alone and closed off.

Golden Days - Panic! At The Disco

I can’t put a specific lyric to it but it’s the vibes of looking back on your hedonistic youths with nostalgia and rose-colored glasses. Post-Kuragins’ death vibes again.

Go Get Your Gun - The Dear Hunter

“One foot in the grave, the other one’s kickin’ its way right down to hell”

All we see of him after the Kuragins’ death is just him being particularly cruel and reckless, almost careless. This feels like it encapsulates that energy.

The Fallen - Franz Ferdinand

“They say you’re a troubled boy just because you like to destroy”

I’m aware that a good portion of this song is about a Christ figure but I’m going to respectfully ask you to ignore that bit and just focus on all the Sketchy Things the guy does instead. Thank you. He does in fact like to destroy things! Señor Cause Problems On Purpose back at it again at krispy kreme, huh.

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Four)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: blood, graphic violence, death

Context: Elijah and (Y/n) hunt a couple of vampires down.

A/N: So I have quite a lot I want to write at the moment, meaning that I nearly forgot about this, so I apologise if it feels a little rushed. Again, the boys don't play a major role in this part, but they will later on in the story, I promise!

Masterlist

"Any chance we can try and keep this clean tonight? Clearing up is always a pain in this town." I whisper to the Hunter crouched beside me, our eyes fixed intently on the three figures further into the alley, their attention on something else entirely.

"I can't promise anything." Elijah chuckles lowly, edging forwards slightly as he draws his pistol, screwing on a silencer as he goes, signalling for me to do the same, waiting as I rush to obey him. Expertly, I cock the pistol and ready it for use, checking the clip silently in the darkness, taking off the safety as we move further into the alley, the two of us moving with each other as if we've been doing it for years. In unison, we lift our firearms to eye level.

"On three." Elijah commands, voice calm and steady, "One...two...three."

As one, we compress the triggers, the bullets tearing through the air as they hurtle towards our targets, easily finding their marks. Screeches of pain and outrage echo loudly in the alley as blood spurts from the wounds, though we don't pay any attention to them, cocking our guns again, firing at will, our rounds quickly depleting as every bullet finds its mark. Well aware that wooden bullets will not instantly kill them, we draw our stakes and step out of the shadows, advancing on the three vampires recovering on the floor. Upon seeing us, they snap back upright, teeth bared in anger and pain, eyes flashing ominously as they mimic our moves, stepping in time with us, ready to pounce at us. Internal conversation seems to happen, as they then suddenly lunge forwards, two of them colliding with me as the other attacks Elijah, knocking me to the floor with a grunt of surprise.

Instinctually, I kick out, catching one of them somewhere fleshy as I claw and stab at the other, the stake sinking into muscle and tendons why satisfying squelches, screams and cries of agony accompanying my every move, though they are short lived as the two vampires manage to pin me down, keeping me spread eagled and prone. Instantly, they both lean down to bite into me, one at my neck, the other at my shoulder, gasps of agony escaping me as their fangs sink into me, though a short bitter laugh accompanies it as they suddenly pull back, hissing and spitting in disgust and surprise, blood (both mine and their own) spilling from their open mouths. In that split second, I lunge upwards and plunge the stake into the heart of the closest, driving it deeply into the chest cavity, teeth gritting together as gore erupts out onto my clothes, staining my face.

Shrieking, the vampire falls to the floor, dying and writhing as I go to stand, only to be pulled back by the other, panic fluttering inside me as their hands clamp around my throat, nails digging into my skin, drawing blood as they start to squeeze, triumphant cackle loud and unpleasant in my ears. Struggling for breath, I claw at the vice-like grip, kicking out and writhing, the edges of my vision slowly going fuzzy as the oxygen stops reaching my brain.

Feeling my energy start to dwindle, I notice my limbs going limp, my arms heavy and leaden as my eyes roll back into my head, unconsciousness threatening to take over, prompting the vampire to suddenly drop me to the floor, my knees colliding painfully with the concrete. Instantly, it's hands are back around my throat this time with the intention of tearing out my windpipe, but I've recovered quickly enough, my hands reaching into my pocket, finding what I'm looking for. Twisting, I smash it against their chest, a cloud of mist enveloping the vampire as screams and shouts of agony erupt from them, the holy water grenade having the desired effect.

With one last burst of energy, I pull the stake from the fallen body of the first vampire and thrust it into the heart of the second, crying out in exertion as they collapse onto me, impaling themselves on it. Throwing it sideways, I look over at Elijah, who is crouched by the remains of the other vampire, blue eyes meeting mine across the gap, taking in my bloodied appearance critically.

"Lets not get too dirty, eh?" He remarks, standing and coming over after removing his stake from the vampire, helping me to my feet with a small flourish, inspecting my injuries in concern.

"Shut up." I growl, brushing myself off as I look him over, annoyed to find him nearly spotless somehow.

"Sorry. You gonna be ok? You've been bitten and scratched pretty badly." He muses, taking off his coat and offering it to me in place of my now-filthy one. Smiling tiredly, I accept the offer and slipbthe coat on, enjoying the sense of comfort it brings.

"I'll be ok, thanks. I'll go back home and fix myself up. You've got a hotel room, right?" I ask him, bending down to the bodies at my feet once more, taking the knife from my pocket as I do so.

"I do, but I can stay at yours tonight, if that helps?" Elijah replies, going to his own quarry and doing the same as I am: pulling back their lip and cutting out their left fang, soemthing all SRS Hunters are required to do, in order to prove a kill.

"No, don't worry about it. I'll survive the walk home." I decline, taking the two bloodied fangs and sticking them in my pocket, ready to go in the case back at my home, my fingers slick with gore as I slip the blade back into its sheath, my bites now beginning to hurt as I take the feet of both corpses and drag them behind a steel bin. Taking out the hip flask we all have to carry, I douse the bodies in lighter fluid, waiting for Elijah to move his own body over before setting them on fire with my lighter, aware that the remains will no longer be recognisable in the morning, after having been burnt and then obscured by the morning rain that will no doubt put out the flames before they can spread. Elijah watches all this with a critical eye.

I pull another bin across them before I turn to leave, grabbing my gun on the way, intending to take the back roads put of Santa Carla to avoid being seen and reported, aware that my appearance is not the most normal. Elijah follows me, keeping up a quiet conversation as I lead him through the labyrinth of roads and alleys, the two of us falling back into our natural habits with ease, as if we were both still Cadets back in Hunting School, joking and messing around with each other. It takes fifteen minutes of this for us to find his hotel, where he says goodbye and leaves me, still holding his holdall even after the excitement of the evening.

Blood stained and tired, I turn my back on the hotel and walk home, hoping to get washed before I get to sleep, hating the reek that has taken over my body, feeling stiff and dirty. Before long, the small shed comes into view, everything just as I left it this morning.

Grabbing the bucket of water outside the door, I head inside and lock myself in as best I can, going further into the room in the darkness, able to navigate it pretty well through instinct. Placing the bucket down, I reach into my pocket and flick on my lighter, locating a candle and lighting it, soon able to see a little better. I go around the room and light more of the candles placed around there, soon having a pleasant ring of light to do stuff in, only to then realise I'm not alone, as I first thought.

"What the hell happened to you?" Is the first thing I hear before I realise who it is, rolling my eyes when I recognise Paul's voice.

"Went on a hunt. Got messy and bitten. It happens." I prompt him dismissively, standing back a bit as I debate how to tell them to leave the room, in desperate need of some privacy so I can change in peace.

"You got bitten?!" David speaks up, stepping further into the candlelight with a worried look on his face, the others following suit.

"Yeah, twice. It's not the first time, David, don't worry. I'll just clean it and I'll be fine. Speaking of which, could you guys leave the room whilst I change? Please?"

Wordlessly, they walk out of the room and into the cold outside, waiting whilst i make an effort to clean myself up with the bucket of water, scrubbing the blood off of myself with some luck, my clothes needing a much more through clean, though that is to be expected. Pulling on some new ones, I go outside with my clothes and the bucket, leaving them there as I invite the boys back inside. Finding my first aid kit, I go to start dressing my wounds, only to find myself struggling in the dim light.

Dwayne immediately steps forwards to help me, deft fingers replacing mine as he works at cleaning and closing up the bite mark, his look of jealousy hidden to me as he sees the intimate placing of the wound. As his hands brush against my skin, I try to ignore the rising blush in my cheeks, turning instead to watch the others, only for my cheeks to darken when I see David, Marko and Paul staring at me with intensity. It takes Dwayne around five minutes to finish up, by which time the air is significantly tenser and more charged, as if something happened that no one was supposed to see.

He steps away from me, turning away as he licks his fingers clean, hissing suddenly at the tatse.

"Do you inject yourself with holy water? Why the hell does this taste so...painful?" He bursts out, dark eyes finding mine.

"All SRS Hunters are required to drink it, so that supernatural beings can't drink or use our blood for anything. It's quite a good defence tactic at times." I inform him, yawning suddenly as the energy leaves my body.

"Long day, huh?" Marko chips in from somewhere behind the others, the curly haired vampire chuckling at the grumble he receives in response.

"We should probably leave you, then. We just wanted to make sure you were alright seeing as we never really saw you tonight." David muses, reaching out to brush my hair from my face as he smiles down at me, blue eyes unnaturally soft.

"I'm sorry. It's gonna be like that for a few more days or so, as long as the Senior Officer is here, I can't see you guys so often. I don't want you getting caught." I warn him, standing from my seat as I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, my cheek tingling from where he touched me.

"A shame, but thank you, anyway. We'll see you around." David says, smiling once more before turning and leaving, Dwayne waving at me as he follows. Marko and Paul stepping forwards to sweep me into a hug before leaving themselves, crushing me against their chests almost protectively.

"See ya, (Y/n)." Paul calls as they walk out, leaving me alone again.

Part Five

[jxoxsxsxi]

For the send a song can you do hold on by chord overstreet

Part one: https://jxoxsxsxi.tumblr.com/post/622738349777731584/hold-me-while-you-wait-by-lewis-capaldi

Sander can't describe what he is feeling right now. This unpleasant feeling in his stomach that makes him want to throw up, but has nothing to do with his hangover.

Robbe had cleaned up the evidence pretty well. Sander only founded an empty package of a special kind of meat and a fancy dessert cake in the freezer. Oh and an empty bottle of Sander's favourite wine.

There was also glass shatters in the bin, and they missed a wine glass.

The older boy had connected the dots rather quick.

Sander was feeling uneasy, and he couldn't concentrate on finishing his thesis, so he decided to clean the apartment a little bit. That could never hurt, right?

He didn't change the bedsheets because he was almost certain Robbe had changed them earlier this week. He cleaned up his pile of clothes and washed their towels.

Sander even vacuumed the whole apartment. Under the bed, he found a small package with a cute bow attached to it. He recognised his lovers wrapping skills, and it just made his heartache.

He saw Robbe sitting on the kitchen desk with a scissor, wrapping paper, and some tape. Tongue slightly out of his mouth because he was concentrating so much. He put the gift back underneath the bed.

Sander didn't deserve a gift or present right now.

Robbe was indeed late home, and it didn't help with Sander's nerves.

He couldn't control himself anymore and texted his boyfriend.

Sander: Baby? Almost home? xx  22:12 This time Robbe replied quite fast.

Robbe: No, it is a mess here. Go to sleep. I don't know if I will be home before midnight. Sander: That can't be healthy? Your shift ends around 21:00, right? Robbe: The shop closes on 21:00, Sander that doesn't mean I am finished at 21:00. I have told you that before.

It made Sander shiver the tone is boyfriend was talking to him. Robbe wasn't like that at all. The younger boy was always kind and understanding, even when he had the right not to be.

Sander bit his lip. He really messed up now.

It was as if the time stopped moving. Sander was just sitting on the sofa staring at the television where some sort of soap was playing. He wasn't paying attention at all. His thoughts had taken over.

Sander knew that he wasn't perfect. Hell no, he was far away from that. He had a lot of bad habits and was difficult to understand. Most people were always intimidated by him and run away before they saw the real Sander.

He knew it was part of his personality, but he always tried to deny it.

The worst flaw a person can have is that of self-deception. Sander had always been like that. He acted on impulse and then created the reason for his actions after the fact. If he was feeling good he did good things, if he was feeling negative in any way he did bad things. He felt like his good deeds meant he was a good person and his bad deeds were justified. In truth he never thought before he acted or spoke, he never stopped to ask himself if his response was the right one, or merely the first knee-jerk reaction that sprung to mind. Whatever he said was almost never true, or at least it was only "true" for him.

A loud sound from the kitchen woke him up. He had a stinging pain his neck and his legs were stiff. The television was still on, but the soap was over.

'Oh shit, didn't mean to wake you up.'

Robbe was leaning against the door frame, eating an apple.

'That is okay' Sander yawns while rubbing his eyes. 'Did you eat already?'

'Yes, someone ordered pizza at work.'

The older boy nodded while examining his boyfriend.

Robbe didn't seem mad at all. He was just eating his apple and scrolling through his phone. A part of Sander wants to ignore the situation. His lover is apparently not planning to make a big deal out of it so why should he do it? Robbe probably didn't care

There is was again, self-deception. It was a big deal and Sander knew his boyfriend cared a lot. He scratches his head while sitting up a little straighter.

'So, I wanted to apologize.' His voice sounds so awkward that he cringes to himself.

Robbe raises his eyebrow, the corner is of his mouth slightly wet. 'What?'

'For last night, I am sorry.'

The younger boy face falls a little. 'Don't worry it is okay.' 'We both know it isn't.'

Robbe didn't really look him in his eyes, but he didn't seem mad. There was also no heat in the younger boy's voice. The boy sighed loudly and let his head fall against the doorpost before taking place on the sofa, looking Sander directly into the eye.

'Sander, I love you more than anything in this world, but we can't continue like this. It has been going on for too long. I simply don't have the energy anymore.'

Robbe bites his lip and lowers his eyes, slightly shifting on feet.

'I want to be there for you and I try so hard, but it is not enough.' His voice sounds desperate and it makes Sander's chest ache.

Sander shakes his head while grabbing his boyfriend's hand. 'It is enough, it is more than enough.' He gives the younger boy a penetrating look, trying to teleport his own thoughts, trying to convince the boy how much he does for him, but Robbe gaze is fixed on the floor.

'But it isn't enough for me anymore.'

It feels as if something explodes in Sander's head. Do you know that sound from the computer that malfunctions? Well, that is the only thing he heard. Error 404. 'I-? Oh-, but-'

'I need you as well Sander so much more than you think. I want to be with you without having to beg for your attention or affection.'

A slap in his face would have hurt less, but the younger boy doesn't stop.

'It feels like I am pissing you off all the time yet you always want me around to give you physical love. I just don't get it anymore and I am tired of figuring you out! So you can tell me what you want! Do you still want a relationship or do you just want somebody you can fuck whenever you please? '

Robbe's voice crumbles during that last sentence.

Sander is processing the words. He doesn't know what to say, he is perplexed.

Robbe sighs and softly nods. The boy attempts to stand up, but Sander stops him. He grabs his boyfriend's shoulders 'I still want a relationship.  Of course, I still want a fucking relationship. You are my everything.'

Robbe leans against his lover's shoulder and rubs his forehead softly against the black hoodie.   'Why are you acting this way then?'

'I don't know, baby.'

Sander gently cups his boyfriend's face so that they have eye contact.

'You need to sort yourself out first. I want to help you, but you have to let me in. It is a mystery to me what is happening in your head. We just to talk all the time, what happened between us?'

What happened between them? More like what happened to him. Sander wishes he had an answer for that. A soft finger is tracing his upper lip.

'Why are you going out all the time? Why are you drinking so much? Why are you pushing me away?'

'I just don't feel comfortable.'

'Around me?'

Sander shakes his head. 'I can't explain it, but it has nothing to do with you. It feels as if I can't breathe.'

The last sentence comes out as a stutter. A tear runs down his cheek. He wishes he could explain what he is feeling. If he only knew where to start with it. There was this feeling in his stomach, a constant fear.

Sometimes it felt as if the world was slowly disappearing right in front of him. Or as if he was fading away. Moments where his lungs were burning and his heart beating so fast he was afraid his ribs would break and his skin would be ripped apart.

And there was a void. The black hole in his head, deep inside his soul, slowly swallowing all his hopes and dreams. That was the worst of those moments. The realization of the vacuum, the nothingness, the absurd of his existence. Those thoughts that kept him awake at five a.m. and made him wonder: why am I living for anyway? Did he live for himself? For Robbe? For others? Did it all really matter?

The problem was that there wasn't an answer to his questions and that was the moment his anxiety turned into panic. And when he was panicking he couldn't think clearly. He would start doing dumb shit to forget his fear only for it to return ten times as bad.

A never-ending spiral.

'Please don't leave me' he chokes out.  His voice sounds so weak, so soft, so vulnerable that Sander wasn't sure if there coming any sound from his mouth at all.

Robbe shakes his head 'not in this universe, baby. Not if you let me in to help you.'

Sander hid his face in the lover's neck while he was softly sobbing.

[poppy-pelican]

Darkness on Fire (Chapter 3)

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692747/chapters/65866213#workskin

Chapter 3: Mustang and Hawkeye escort the Elrics to what they hope is a safe place.

Roy went back to bed while Hawkeye stayed awake. They were all unnerved after sending Dr. Rockbell home with a vial of blood to give to the rest of his family just in case they had been compelled, too. Hawkeye promised to keep watch so the vampires could sleep. She seemed well, full of vitality, thanks to his blood. It was more than he could say for himself. She’d taken a bit too much from him. He drank some animal blood before going back to bed, but it was unappetizing when he was craving hers so badly.

As he slept, he dreamt of being wrapped in sheets, Hawkeye’s bare skin, his fangs deep in her throat. He woke up with a gasp, his cock hard, fangs elongated. It took him a few minutes to orient himself to where he was, not in his comfortable basement apartment, but in Hohenheim’s study. Roy was grateful Hawkeye wasn’t in the room—and the temptation to have one off quickly was there, but with two impressionable boys around, he stewed in misery instead.

This assignment had gone to shit, fast. As he dressed, he realized why his dreams were plagued with images of Hawkeye. He had given her his blood, and for vampires that was as good as attaching a piece of your soul with them. He’d given his blood to his aunt, and a few others he had fed from, and he could sense them distantly. But Hawkeye was in the same house, tantalizingly close.

Downstairs Ed and Al were complaining to each other because they weren’t allowed to say goodbye to Winry or the rest of the Rockbells.

The moment Roy caught sight of Hawkeye, scrubbing her bloody shirt in the sink, his fangs descended, his whole body tuning toward her. He made sure to keep his mouth shut and went to grab more animal blood. He poured it into a glass, and Trisha swung by and offered him some wine.

“It helps it go down easier,” she said.

“Having more already?” Hawkeye asked, eyes crinkling in concern. “Did I take too much?”

“You’d been stabbed. I think you took what was necessary,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. She would worry too much otherwise. Her guilt about his vampirism was greater than it should be, especially considering how much he enjoyed his new lifestyle. Sure, burning to a crisp in the sun was a major sacrifice, but it was manageable most of the time.

“Hmm,” was all she said in reply, going back to her shirt. “I might have to call this done for. Even if I could fix the hole, this blood is not coming out.”

Roy took a final swig of what he was going to call sheep wine and ignored the urge to offer to suck the blood out of her shirt. He admonished himself. He wasn’t even thirsty in the usual way. It could be compared to wanting a dessert, delicious but not essential.

“Let me see if I can’t find something else to try. The boys are always staining their clothes,” Trisha said, disappearing to search upstairs.

“I think I might have a quick look around in town before we leave,” Roy said to Hawkeye. “I shouldn’t be gone more than half an hour.” If possible, it would be easiest to take the Elrics to a safe house Hohenheim owned by train, although he assumed the station would be watched—Selim would expect it.

“You’re too thirsty to go burning energy like that,” Hawkeye pointed out. “You’ve only had animal blood after giving me a lot of yours. You know how you get.”

“Well, this town doesn’t exactly have a wide selection of willing humans. And Hohenheim would kill me if I asked Trisha…though it would hold me over a lot longer.” As it always did with vampire blood. He needed human blood at least once a month, preferably once a week, to keep him at full strength. When he acted as a donor it was more frequent. Vampire blood could sate his thirst for twice as long.

“You could drink from me. Just this once,” she said, holding up a finger in warning. “Since you gave me some of yours earlier. It’s only fair.”

“But you were just hurt.” His hunger told him to shut up and go for it. It was exactly what he wanted.

“And I feel twice as healthy as normal. I can spare some.” She dropped her wet shirt into the sink, drying her hands on a towel.

“I shouldn’t—”

His fangs betrayed him, descending with thirsty enthusiasm. He covered his mouth as she gave him a smug smile.

“Go ahead.” She rolled her eyes at his hesitation. “Just because I don’t want to be a regular donor doesn’t mean I can’t handle it.”

“I know.” That wasn’t why he held back. The last time he’d tasted her blood, he’d wanted to rut against her like an animal. But that was different, he reminded himself. He had better control now, more practice.

“Wrist or…neck?” she asked.

He shouldn’t. There was a reason he always drank from the wrist.

“Neck,” he said lowly, the words flying out before he could stop them. So much for control.

She pulled her hair to the side, revealing the beautiful curve of her neck. Before he could second guess himself, he cradled her head and shoulder, holding her in place. She gasped at the suddenness, and he heard the warm, wet gushing in her heart pick up speed.

He bit down, taking care to ease his fangs in gently.

She’d always smelled better than anyone else to him. He wondered if it was because her blood initiated him into this lifestyle. It was overwhelming, flavors and feelings pulsing through him rapidly. He usually hurried to drink and leave, but he slowed down his pulls to savor each flow of liquid across his tongue. Why was it so good? Would she let him do this again? God, he hoped so.

He couldn’t stop himself. The quietest moan escaped him, and suddenly it was just like the first time. He was unbearably aroused—almost senseless. He wanted to bury his cock inside her while he fed from her, something he had always thought was overkill. He grunted, biting down the tiniest bit harder.  Her breath hitched, and he wanted to grind against her, but he held himself in check, remembering the Elric brothers in the next room—and Trisha upstairs.

Caving to one last taste, he released her with a gasp, licking the wound closed out of habit. Hawkeye shivered against him and he leaned back just enough to gauge her reaction. Her amber eyes were soft, pupils blown wide, and her steady heartbeat danced just a little faster. He wanted to kiss her, but he was also a coward.

“Better than the sheep wine, that’s for sure,” he said, breaking the tension. He didn’t want to let on how turned on he was.

“Sheep wine?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to know.”

 #

 Roy sprinted to town as soon as it was dark enough and found several humans standing suspiciously still and quiet near the train station, positioned at every entrance. They were waiting.

He expected it, but Hawkeye wasn’t going to like it. This meant they would have to cut across the country on foot to the next town over.

Returning to the Elric house, Roy gave Riza the bad news. She sighed. “Well, I better go consolidate our bags—two bags will be too cumbersome if I have to be carried.” She held up an angry finger. “On your back.”

Roy laughed, his smile lingering until he took his post outside to keep watch. He settled under the tree, checking his gun and his gloves.

It wasn’t long before Ed appeared.

“Riza is not happy about this,” Ed informed him. “She told Mom it makes her feel like an invalid.”

“Well, to make it to our destination before sunrise, it’s what we have to do. She knows that,” Roy explained, watching the boy in amusement. Ed was fidgeting—tugging his braid, tucking his hands in and out of his pockets.

“Why is she still human?” Ed asked out of the blue. “She has your blood in her. Why don’t you just snap her neck and keep her forever?”

Roy choked. “What?”

“Riza,” Ed clarified, as if Roy just hadn’t known who he meant.

“Turning someone…isn’t a science. It fails almost as often as it succeeds.” And Roy had no plans to live forever. He would step into the sun when the time was right. Immortality had no appeal to him. Hawkeye’s own thoughts on immortality were…murky. She once said being a vampire was better than being dead, but he wasn’t sure she thought it was better than being alive and human. Going out into the sun.

Roy wouldn’t say vampirism was superior to humanity, but if he could choose to return to being a human, it would be a difficult choice.  Blood was divine—Hawkeye’s was especially intoxicating. Smells were stronger, but not in a bad way. It made things interesting. And with the difference in his vision and senses, the moon felt as warm as the sun had when he was human. Regular food tasted better, too. He didn’t need as much anymore, but what he did eat was a full explosion of flavors, even if it was just a simple tomato off the vine. The increased strength and speed were undoubtedly his favorite though.

Ed must have been deep in thought too because he said, “That must be why Dad says I can’t go around changing all my friends into vampires when I’m older.”

Roy held back a laugh. “Probably not the best idea, no.”

“But…I don’t want to live forever without Winry.” Ed sighed. “Don’t you feel that way about Riza? You guys are best friends, right?”

A dark something twisted in Roy’s gut.

“Yes, best friends. I’ve known her since she was about your age.” Back when her best friend was a dog, and Roy’s best friend was his alchemy studies.

Berthold Hawkeye was a brilliant man, but a mediocre father. He’d been fearful of vampires ever since his wife was killed by one, and his research in flame alchemy was born from his desire to destroy vampires. It had taken precedence over everything in his life, even raising Riza. But Berthold loved his daughter, and Roy guessed that some of his obsession in finding a weapon against vampires came from the need to keep her safe. Roy had been tossed out of the house when he’d argued making peace with vampires was for the good of all, but when his master was dying…he had asked Roy to protect her.

  #

 An underground tunnel beneath the house had been as much a surprise to Edward and Alphonse as it had to Riza and Mustang. Trisha had given a nervous smile as she uncovered a secret opening in the closet floor.

“Wow!” the boys cheered, jumping down into the dirt, bags over their shoulders. Riza was much less enthused, but grateful they could leave the house unseen from the outside.

“Hohenheim has been working on these since he turned me,” Trisha said. “About fifteen years ago.”

“This is the best trip ever!” Al said, his voice muffled inside the tunnel.

Trisha dropped down next. “Boys, don’t run ahead. There are some dead ends your father constructed on purpose. You’ll get lost on your own and wind up in Xing or someplace.”

“Al’s right. This is kind of fun,” Mustang said, grinning at Riza as he took their bag and leapt into the tunnel. Riza was last. She peered down the opening. It was a farther drop than it looked. Of course, Hohenheim built it with vampires in mind, not a petite human.

“Is there a ladder?” she asked, without hope for an affirmative.

“Just slide down on your stomach and I’ll catch you,” Mustang said.

And probably get an unflattering view of her backside, she thought sourly, but she did as instructed, aware that dropping straight to the floor would likely sprain her ankles if Mustang missed.

“Ugh,” she said, fighting the urge to kick her legs for a foothold the farther down she went.

She felt Mustang’s hands steady her, easing her descent. Then things went in a different direction as she lowered herself more. His hands ran up her legs, across her hips, until she was on the ground pressed against him, chest to chest. Oh, that was—

He released her with a nervous chuckle, practically shoving her away.

“See? Simple,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, taking in the tunnel before them. It was pitch black. “I won’t be able to see a thing.”

Mustang snapped his fingers, illuminating the long tunnel before them. He also lit a candle Trisha was suddenly holding.

“You’ll still have to be carried,” he told her, “but any light will just blow out.”

Riza understood. Not only did she have to be carried like a child, she had to do it while blind. She couldn’t shoot in the dark.

“I can’t remember the last time I rode on someone’s back,” she groused, as the boys giggled at her predicament.

“Just hop on!” Al said encouragingly. He demonstrated by tackling his older brother, then squeezing his neck in a pretend chokehold while Ed dramatically gasped for air.

“I hate being such a burden,” Riza said, but as Mustang squatted down, she winked at the boys and ran at him, pretending to choke him just as Al had done to Ed. She grinned as they laughed—even Trisha’s worry lines fading as Mustang acted like he was going to drop her. He recognized what Riza wanted to do for the family: put them at ease.

“I’ve given you a piggyback ride before, you know,” Mustang said. “You must’ve been twelve because I was about sixteen. You sprained your ankle and couldn’t walk home from school,” he said.

“Oh! I forgot. That might have been the last time I did this.” She’d been in too much pain to have any fun with the experience back then.

“And here we are again,” he said fondly, except when he gave her thighs a friendly squeeze, it made her heart race in a very non-platonic way.

The rest of the run through the tunnel was as unpleasant as she expected. Her human body wasn’t made for being jostled at high speeds, and her teeth were clenched together to keep from biting her tongue. No matter how careful Mustang was, he could not cushion her perfectly. Worse, being totally blind meant she could only concentrate on her other senses. The smell of Mustang’s aftershave, the way his large hands adjusted his grip on her thighs whenever he took a turn or ran down a steep slope, the warmth of his back…

Forcing those thoughts from her mind, she concentrated on alternate routes to the safe house in Central Trisha wanted to go to.

They finally stopped at an exit, which was as bad as the entrance at the Elric home. This time Trisha gave Riza a boost while Mustang pulled her up. Out of the tunnel, they found themselves under a bridge that reached over a wide creek—which explained the earthy-fish smell that had appeared in the tunnel.

“I know my way around, so I’ll go check the train station. They have a midnight train we could still catch,” Trisha said.

“Mom,” Ed started to protest, but she blew her sons a kiss and vanished. Mustang didn’t have time to argue either.

“It’s probably for the best. You’ve never been here before,” Riza said. “And leaving me with the boys in the dark—” She shrugged.

“Yes, you’re right,” Mustang said. “If your mother takes longer than thirty minutes,” he addressed the boys, “I’ll go after her.”

“At least the tunnels were fun,” Al said optimistically. “I wonder why Mom and Dad didn’t tell us?”

“To keep you quiet about it. You know you can’t keep a secret,” Ed teased.

“Yes, I can!”

While the boys began listing the various secrets the other had spilled over the years, Mustang turned to Riza.

“We might have to separate,” he said. “You could go with the boys to the safe house. Travel in the daytime.”

“Only if we have to,” Riza said, but his logic was sound. She was torn between her responsibility to watch over Mustang versus the family. She could not protect them all.

 #

 When Trisha returned, she was running at full tilt, her dress flying behind her. Roy heard her arriving before the others, so he leapt to attention, nudging Hawkeye.

“Quick,” Trisha whispered urgently. “Back to the tunnel!”

The boys dropped in first, followed by Trisha, Roy made the executive decision to grab Hawkeye and leap down with her in his arms. He could tell it was a rough landing, but she only grunted.

“We need to seal the entrance with alchemy,” Roy said. Ed was quick, concentrating for a moment before clapping. With a brief glow, it was done.

“Now we run. They can probably still hear us down here,” Hawkeye said, wiggling out of Roy’s arms. He was momentarily confused as she kept her hands on him, fingers tracing across his chest and arms, before he realized she couldn’t see in the darkness and was trying to climb on his back. He helped her up, reveling in the sensation of her arms around his neck. She smelled good, and his fangs, wildly misbehaving on this assignment, were aching to sink into her veins.

They kept a brisk pace until the boys tired and needed a more human speed. Roy could feel Hawkeye’s relief as she relaxed against him.

“I could walk,” she said, and he heard the sluggishness in her voice. He wondered how much sleep she’d managed the past few days.

“Stay put,” he said. “If we need to take off, you’re already in position.”

The group remained quiet, fearing anyone following them would overhear them. Trisha led the way—only she knew where they were going.

It was almost sunrise when they neared the other safe house’s entrance, stopping far enough out that their presence wouldn’t be noticed.

“A friend lives here,” Trisha said. “Well, Van’s friend. I haven’t been able to meet him much. He doesn’t know about the boys.”

That wasn’t ideal. “Can you trust him?”

“Van believes so. And they have an agreement about the tunnels. Barry can come to our home as easily as we can go to his in an emergency. It’s been a couple of years and he’s never abused it. He’s one of only a few who have direct access.”

Roy clutched Hawkeye closer. He wasn’t sure how he felt about introducing an unknown vampire to his very human companion.

“How about Hawkeye stays back with the boys while we introduce ourselves?” Roy suggested.

“Good idea,” Trisha said.

Roy reluctantly put Hawkeye down, guiding her to sit beside the boys. He got the candle Trisha had brought along, setting it up in front of them with a snap of his fingers.

“Can we eat something?” Al asked. “I’m so hungry.”

“Just wait until I get back. I have some snacks in the bag,” Trisha said.

“And what if Dad’s friend doesn’t let us in?” Ed asked.

“Then we sleep in the tunnels. It will be like camping,” Trisha said, forcing a smile.

No one wanted to sleep in the cramped tunnels. It wasn’t even wide enough for two people to walk comfortably side by side. Not to mention the many little creatures who had made their home here.

It was with this concern in mind that Roy and Trisha hurried down the tunnel. Unlike the other exits they had passed, this one had a heavy door with an elaborate “S” carved into the wood—an old symbol for vampires to know they could find shelter there. Trisha forced open the trap door. Roy watched from below, ready to snap.

“Hello!” a grating voice cheered from above. “Trisha, my beauty, is that you?”

“You shameless flirt,” she said, flustered.

A stocky man with wild, stringy hair peered down at them.

“And who’s this guy? You cheating on my man Van?” Barry asked, his voice teasing. Then he inhaled deeply, his eyes focusing on Roy. “And you have a tasty smelling human with you. And…two others?”

Roy was impressed with Barry’s sense of smell, but very displeased with his description of Hawkeye. Even if he agreed.

“We’re in a bit of a bind,” Trisha said, letting Barry hoist her out of the tunnel. Roy pulled himself out, keeping an eye on Barry. The tunnel connected to a small, messy wine cellar. There was more wine than it could contain, and the bottles had been lined in tight rows on the floor with no semblance of order. Barry was either a lush, a hoarder, or both.

As Trisha explained the situation to Barry, the vampire just laughed and laughed as the story got more outrageous. He didn’t seem to hold it against them that Hohenheim and Trisha hadn’t mentioned their sons before, but Roy didn’t know Barry well enough to tell if he was putting on a front. Barry was also delighted to have a vampire celebrity gracing his home. The Flame Alchemist had a reputation, for better or worse. At least he knew Roy could burn him alive if he tried anything.

 #

 An hour later, Barry had put together a small but strange feast in his blacked-out dining room. The table had been covered in old newspapers, dishes, and knickknacks, but Barry had cleared it off without complaint while cooking dinner.

“I used to be a butcher, but I was never a good cook,” Barry said as the water boiled over. Trisha had stepped in to help, and together they found enough to feed everyone. Trisha acted cheerful and helpful, but she had borrowed Barry’s phone and gone through half a dozen numbers attempting to reach Hohenheim. He hadn’t answered, meaning he had no idea what had happened to his family. When Roy saw her hang up the phone the last time, she had looked defeated, her face pinched unpleasantly.

At dinner, Ed and Al were all over the sandwiches and spaghetti like it was the perfect pairing. To kids, it probably was.

Hawkeye tackled the spaghetti with perfect manners, but Roy could tell she wanted to dig in with the same gusto as the boys. Her stomach had been growling with hunger for hours. Roy and the other vampires didn’t need to eat as much, so he gave her half his sandwich when she wasn’t looking. He could admit some of it was for selfish reasons—her blood smelled better when she was well fed. She ate it without complaining of his generosity, which said something of her hunger.

“Dad said you used to kill people when you were human,” Ed said to Barry, in that forthright way he always used. “Is that true?”

Barry guffawed. “Oh, he told you that, did he?” Roy looked over at Trisha who was avoiding his gaze. “It’s very true. You might know me as Barry the Chopper.”

Roy’s eyebrows shot up. He knew well of that serial killer. “You were supposed to have been executed!”

“And I was,” Barry said, putting on a ghostly voice as the young boys listened raptly, eyes wide. “Before my execution, a strange woman came and started asking me questions. Was I related to any other vampires? Had I had vampire blood before? Had I let a vampire drink from me? On and on. After I was executed…I woke up in a lab, and they studied me like a lab rat.”

“Then the government was behind this?” Hawkeye asked, putting down her fork. Her undivided attention to her food had been diverted.

“They wanted to see if there were any conditions that made vampire transformation more favorable,” he said. “There were many others there in the labs—some prisoners, some folks taken right off the street. All vampires. And just as many corpses leftover from the failed attempts.”

“So they wanted to turn more vampires,” Roy said, the grim truths behind the former regime were endless. Just when he thought he’d heard the worst of it, something new was uncovered.

“For a vampire army,” Barry said, laughing again. “Crazy bastards.”

“How long were you there?” Hawkeye asked.

“Only a year or so. Then the uprising began. They wanted us all to fight for their side, but many went AWOL. Including me.”

“And did you start killing innocent people again?” Hawkeye asked. The conversation was beginning to sound like an interrogation.

“Nah, as a vampire, turns out my bloodlust is easier to sate now that I drink blood,” Barry gave a toothy grin. “I’ve been on my best behavior since I turned.”

Hawkeye looked skeptical but said nothing. Roy wagered she didn’t approve. He mused over the ethics of Barry’s situation. Technically, Barry had suffered the punishment of his crimes. Should they imprison him again? Capturing vampires during the uprising had been challenging, usually ending in death rather than imprisonment, but they had found the right blend of reinforced metals that had successfully held vampires. Or most. Alchemist vampires were a different breed altogether.

But Roy had a bigger question on his mind he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “Did they learn the secret to becoming a vampire?” He tried not to look at Hawkeye because he wasn’t going to change her when she was healthy and well, but if she was dying…

“No. It remains a mystery,” Barry said. “Ol’ Van delved into it, too, when he found this pretty thing,” he said, leering at Trisha.

“Gross,” Ed said under his breath.

“You and Hohenheim were together before you were a vampire?” Hawkeye asked her. Roy had heard the story from Hohenheim. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell Hawkeye about it. It wasn’t a story he would share in front of children, either.

Trisha nodded. “We were. I found him irresistibly charming.” She said softly, eyes misty. “We were already married when I became very ill quite suddenly…” she drifted off. She looked at her sons and was able to summon a genuine smile. “And luckily when I died, I was able to return.”

Trisha left out the worst of it. Hohenheim said she was so ill near the end, her quality of life in shreds, that she had asked for his blood one last time. The next morning while he was in town, she’d ended her suffering. Alone.

Roy hid his grimace with his glass of wine.

He reflected on Hohenheim’s original plan. After marrying Trisha, he wanted to age himself alongside her. Vampires usually manipulated their age to be younger, but growing older beside a treasured human had been done on occasion—or so Roy had heard.

If Trisha’s transformation had failed, her husband would have let the sun end his immortal life.

Roy could think of only one person whose death could drive him to do the same, but he also had made her a promise to destroy the vampires who sought to enslave humanity. Could he strive for that goal without her by his side?

“What about little missy here? How’d you get mixed up with the Flame Alchemist?” Barry asked, his eyes on the pulse in Hawkeye’s neck. Roy fought the urge to pull out his gloves.

“He used to give me piggyback rides when I was a girl,” Hawkeye said, glancing at Roy as her amber eyes twinkled.

Barry laughed uproariously. “So you’re just…old friends? Or do you hang around as a donor?”

“To be most accurate, right now he’s my boss,” she replied, casually twirling her fork on her plate. Didn’t she see where Barry was headed with this line of questioning? Roy threw back the last of his wine like a shot.

“I just need to know about the sleeping arrangements,” Barry said. “If you two want to bunk together, or if you want to share with me, or—”

“Barry! Can’t you tell Uncle Roy is about to incinerate you?” Ed chimed in, causing Al to spit out his water as he giggled. Trisha halfheartedly scolded Ed for rudeness, but she was smiling too much to be effective.

Hawkeye turned to Roy. “Really, sir?”

He held up his hands in surrender.

“Uncle Roy and Riza were sharing a room at our house,” Al said innocently, slurping up a noodle. “And I saw him drinking her blood in the kitchen.”

“I see how it is!” Barry said.

“It’s really not like that,” Hawkeye said, and Roy was pleased to see her cheeks were pink.

“So you didn’t give him your blood?” Trisha asked, sounding a lot like her younger son. Deceptive. Trisha came off sweet and motherly, but there was a feisty vampire in there, after all. Roy’s respect for her rose.

“Well, yes,” Hawkeye stumbled over her words.

“From the neck!” Ed added. “And everybody knows what that means.”

“What does it mean?” Al asked, baffled.

Trisha shushed them. “Boys, finish eating. It’s far past your bedtime.”

 #

 Living the bachelor life, Barry had only one extra bedroom. He gave his own to Trisha and the boys, offering Hawkeye and Roy the other while giving an obscene wink. He also insisted on taking over the watch, saying the five of them needed their rest. Roy was hesitant, but there was no polite way to refuse him. Besides, it was daytime, and threats could only be compelled humans. Easy enough for one vampire, and there were two more on hand plus a sharpshooter.

Roy and Hawkeye each took a look around the house, familiarizing themselves with the floor plan before returning to their assigned bedroom. Everything was a bit messy. Barry had haphazardly tidied up, shoving books and clothes onto the floor with enough room to walk to the bed. Roy was sure it was never used for guests. There was a disturbing collection of butcher knives displayed on one wall, warning anyone who wanted to sleep here that their host was a madman.

Hawkeye crawled onto the bed with the determination of a soldier, boots still on.

“You’re just going to sleep?” Roy teased, but he was oddly apprehensive seeing how small the bed was. He didn’t trust himself. Her cloying scent invited him closer, and he barely kept his fangs in check.

“I could go keep watch with Barry, if you’d like,” she said, propping her head on her hand. Roy buried the rush of unreasonable jealousy at the thought of her alone with their creepy host.

“Just wondering where that atrocious nightgown is,” he said instead.

“I had to leave it at the Elric home,” she said. “Not enough room in one bag for both our things.”

The disappointment must have shown on his face because she sat up on the bed.

“I’m on to you,” she said, wagging a finger at him.

“It’s hideous,” he insisted, even as his cheeks grew warm.

She grinned and settled back down to sleep. Roy turned off the light, deciding to take his cue from her and keep even his shoes on. Even with the light off, his vision still allowed him to see her. The room was stuffy and warm, but it meant no blankets, so he watched her curl up on her side, leaving him space behind her back.

He crept in beside her, aware of the creaking of the bed as his weight joined hers. It all felt incredibly intimate. He only shared beds with women he had sex with. He listened greedily to the swiftness of her breathing and heartbeat. Outwardly, she was stoic and still. If he were still human, he’d think her unaffected by his proximity. She was not.

Why she was reacting was a mystery he couldn’t confidently solve. Was she attracted to him? Possibly. Was it merely the novelty of sharing a bed with a man? Or because he was that man? Since learning she was still a virgin, he had been replaying the years of their friendship in a new light.

Hawkeye had been so young when she gave him the secrets to flame alchemy—only sixteen. Roy had been twenty, but his thoughts had been academic and focused. Now it made him wonder if he was the only one to have seen her lethal tattoo, and why that made him so happy.

 #

 The ambush came midday. Riza was awakened by Mustang jostling her awake.

“Get your guns, head to the Elrics’ room,” he whispered. He bolted out the door.

Familiar with this kind of wake up from her days in the militia, Riza was out the door in under a minute, heart pounding, mind focused on her destination.

Gun drawn, she heard scuffling and snarling downstairs. A snap followed by gut-wrenching screams. Riza knocked on the door where the family had been sleeping.

“Trisha? Are you all okay?” Riza asked, watching the staircase—the only way to access the upstairs. Windows, maybe, if they were desperate.

“We’re fine,” Trisha said through the door, her voice strained. “They somehow transported vampires here. I think there are at least two.”

As if summoned, an unfamiliar vampire blurred at the top of the stairs, rushing at Riza. He was heavyset, but frighteningly fast—and armed. Riza aimed her pistol for his bald head, pulling the trigger at the same time the vampire returned fire. Blood and brains sprayed across the wallpaper, and Riza dodged, tumbling into a stack of boxes. Something sharp cut across her hand, but the vampire’s bullet missed her. She repositioned herself behind the boxes, adrenaline thrumming through her as she waited a moment to see if anyone else appeared. The violent noises from below continued.

As stealthily as she could manage, she hurried down the stairs, past the corpse of the vampire, pausing at the bottom to peer around the corner. The clutter of Barry’s home looked like a tornado had swept through. The stench of burnt vampire hung in the air, and two humans writhed on the floor in agony, while two others wrestled against Mustang’s far greater strength. Riza could tell he was trying to be gentle, in case they were compelled, but Riza had no such qualms. She shot one in the leg, the other the arm. The pain overrode their ability to fight back.

“Thanks,” Mustang huffed.

“Is that all of them?” she asked, not moving from her post.

“Two more humans outside. You got the big guy?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “And the family is safe.”

“Good. Can you take care of the two outside? I’ll deal with these four,” he said, binding the intruders’ hands with scraps of fabric he ripped from their own shirts. The humans were all large, younger men, dressed in rough clothes—something poorer folks would wear. Riza suspected they had been compelled because of their strength. If they even had been compelled. Sometimes people pretended to be compelled to escape consequences. Mustang would find out.

Riza slipped outside into the bright sunshine, seeing Barry’s home from the outside for the first time. It was an isolated house, surrounded by trees, with a long driveway where a large truck was parked. There was no sign of the two humans except the truck’s motor rumbling. Riza bumped into a large box, and she figured it must have been used to somehow smuggle the vampires into the house—unless they had known about the tunnel, which was a possibility if Barry had betrayed them. She hadn’t seen him with Mustang.

Riza hunkered behind the box, wishing for a little more coverage to approach the truck. There was too much open space.

But her targets made it easy for her. They dropped out of the truck, guns drawn without skill, more for threatening her. Riza disabled them as she had many soldiers over the years. A bullet for each of them.

“Drop your weapons!” she yelled, approaching with caution. She didn’t want to shoot either of them again, but she would. They refused, and one of them aimed at her. She shot at his wrist, forcibly disarming him. The other took a shot at her, but his arm had already been shot. His bullet went wide.

After that, her greatest challenge was dragging two grown men across the wide expanse of yard as they cussed at her and cried out in pain. One of them took a swing at her, and her cheek was still throbbing when Ed and Al tiptoed into the yard like skittish kittens.

“Mom said we could help you,” Ed explained.

“Go for it,” she said. Or she was going to lose her temper and shoot the intruders dead.

The brothers had no sympathy for the humans, pulling them through the gravel without mercy much faster than Riza was capable. She took more satisfaction than she should have from the men’s shock as they were bested by mere boys.

Inside, Mustang was donating blood to each human, and compelling them for answers one by one, despite what looked like worrisome injuries. He was pushing himself too far again, Riza thought.

Trisha had also made an appearance and had her wrist in Barry’s mouth. He was covered in slashes. It looked like he had been thrown against a wall, based on the dent above him.

He finished feeding and groggily waved Riza over.

“Oh, missy, you have a shiner marring that gorgeous cheek of yours,” he said, his words slurring as he sat up. “I’d give you some of my blood, but as you can see, I’m fresh out.”

Riza smiled gently. “It’s nothing serious, but thank you for the offer.”

Trisha joined Mustang compelling the humans. After they had their information, they compelled the men to forget everything and go home in the truck.

“Two of them did it for money, the rest were compelled,” Mustang told Riza grimly. “I think the female vampire,” he pointed at some ashes, “was the same one who used Dr. Rockbell.”

“That’s a relief,” Riza said.

“Yes and no,” Mustang said. “How did they find us here? Do they know the tunnels and where they connect to?”

“Maybe we should avoid the tunnels for now,” Trisha said, attempting to sweep some cracked drywall from where Barry had been smashed into it.

“I think that’s best,” Mustang agreed. He ran his hands through his hair, falling into a chair in exhaustion. “We’re all tired. We have no way to contact Hohenheim safely…Let’s rest until sunset, then head out on foot.” Riza’s exhausted body approved of the idea.

“I could drive you part way,” Barry said. “I have a safe place on the way to Central. It’s not much, but you’ll be protected from the sun.”

The boys were sent up to bed while the adults sketched out a more thorough plan for nightfall and fixed up Barry’s house. It was only when Riza finally marched up the stairs to return to bed that she remembered the body of the vampire she had killed—but it was gone, only a black, smoky spot left behind.

She hoped the boys hadn’t seen it before Mustang took care of it. As if reading her mind, he caught up to her.

“Only Trisha saw him. And good riddance to that bastard,” he said, giving Riza a nudge toward the bedroom door. “He took a bite out of my arm!”

Riza looked closer at Mustang with concern. His black shirt disguised the fact he was covered in blood. Like Barry, his wounds had healed, but Mustang and Trisha had only had animal blood from Barry’s stash. Mustang was still stronger than Riza, without question, but he wouldn’t be as strong as a well-fed vampire. His thirst would be a weakness she would need to compensate for.

“You’re a mess. Why don’t you go wash up first?” she offered. He nodded and left.

Riza went to the bedroom, brushed her hair and picked out a clean change of clothes while Mustang was gone. Then she took a turn in the bathroom. Looking in Barry’s dingy mirror, she could tell she was going to have a black eye. And while washing her hand she reopened the cut on her palm. She would have to dig through her bag for some bandages.

She opened the door to the bedroom quietly, and found Mustang already lying down, hands tucked under the back of his head. The moment she shut the door, he scurried to the end of the creaky bed.

“Uh, you’re bleeding,” he said, his whole body rigid and focused on her. Like a predator. It was very unlike him. She had cut herself numerous times in front of him—and other vampires—without issue.

“Oh, yes, I scraped my hand. Nothing major,” she said. She gasped when suddenly he was only a foot away.

“Sorry,” he apologized, stumbling back to the bed. “I’m a bit thirstier than I thought.”

“I don’t want to make a habit of it, but…I can give you mine again.”

His tongue ran across his fangs. “You’re tired. And hurt.”

“You’re the one best equipped to protect that family. You need to be at your best.” She thought of the embarrassing teasing from the boys at dinner and offered her wrist, resisting the urge to crane her head to the side.

“You’re far too generous, Hawkeye,” he said. He took her hand instead, spreading her fingers apart and studying the thin slice that marred her skin. His breath fanned over her palm while she held her own breath in anticipation. He merely licked across her hand to ensure the wound would close.

She shivered at the sensation of his tongue but was startled by the burn of disappointment he wasn’t going to feed from her. Then he quickly yanked her into his lap as he settled them on the bed, his hand hot and intimate on her waist. His lips brushed the side of her neck, hesitating as he waited for permission.

And part of her thought she should stop him, offer her wrist and return to the vampire hunting partnership they had before—nothing but a professional friendship.

She arched her neck.

“Please.”

His fangs pierced her neck, groaning as he sucked on her flesh. His hand stroked down to the small of her back, resting just above the curves below.

Heat flooded through her, radiating to her core. Fighting the urge to squirm on his lap, she clutched his shirt tightly as she panted raggedly. What was it about feeding him that aroused her so much? She knew there was a relaxant in their saliva, kind of like certain spiders, but this was different. Her whole body hummed in anticipation, like his bite was just preparing her for something more carnal. Maybe she should be worried. She wasn’t.

A woozy feeling overcame her, and she reached her hand to cup his cheek.

“Roy, that’s too much,” she said.

He immediately pulled back, biting his wrist and holding it up to her. Still high from the intoxicating experience of feeding him, she bent her head to drink, the heady taste buzzing through her like strong wine. It was addictive.

Her mind lost to sensations, it was with dim awareness she realized she was rocking against something thick and hard. She stilled her hips as embarrassment coursed through her, releasing his wrist and licking her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She closed her eyes, unable to look at him.

“Never be sorry for that,” he gasped. And then he rolled them so he was on top of her, her legs wrapping around him instinctually to grind against him through their clothes. She wanted more friction, more bare skin.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, nuzzling into her neck as she carded her fingers through his hair. “I want to taste you everywhere.”

Then his hands froze at her waist, body tensing.

“What is it?” she asked, mirroring his posture. The high of being in his arms was washed away with cold fear. And something that was almost regret seeped into her bones.

Then Mustang rolled off her with a string of frustrated curses, and she realized she was missing something.

“Barry is a bastard,” Mustang said, voice at regular volume. A cackle came from downstairs. Oh.

“It’s for the best. You’re always mixing food with pleasure. It was bound to happen,” she said, giving him an out. Or herself. She wasn’t sure.

“Uh, yes,” he said with palpable relief. “I’m sure your father would disapprove of you working for a vampire, let alone…” He trailed off awkwardly.

“Very true.” Her father would have never given a vampire sympathizer his alchemy, or even worked with a vampire. And he would have thrown her out for willingly sharing blood with one.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Mustang said, disappearing without another word.

She heard Barry laughing again and another rush of mortification hit her. If Barry had heard her with Mustang, the Elrics could have, too. With shame, Riza remembered they were on a dangerous assignment, protecting a lovely family from harm. It was not the time to fall into bed with her boss. And realistically, it should never happen, assignment or not. There was a complex, painful history between them that she was sure sex wouldn’t help whatsoever.

Maybe if there were some genuine feeling on his end, but she knew Roy Mustang. He flitted from woman to woman, and while moments ago Riza wanted to lose herself to the thrill of touching and being touched by him…She also knew she was a serious, monogamous person. It was one of the reasons she was still a virgin. And with Mustang, her heart could not afford to be careless. He was too important to her.

[writingfromkitchenator]

Balthazar ~ Cuddles

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,164

Warnings: Neutral Reader, drinking and smoking, hangover, Balthazar being a bit of an arse, teasing.

Drinking and cigarettes were not a good combination, deciding this as you spent the morning being sick over the toilet, the lingering taste of ash and alcohol just making you wish you’d never been born.

You weren’t usually a smoker, but last night, you’d been doing everything possible to drown out the thoughts in your head.  A few drinks in and you thought it had been a good idea, and the awful taste burning down with the whiskey, a lot of whiskey, had indeed blocked it all out.

Flopping down onto the bed, you knew you were definitely regretting it now.

The apocalypse had taken its toll on you and watching Sam throw himself into the pit had not been your idea of a fun time.  After all that, Dean had disappeared on you, Castiel had apologised, and Bobby, too, was drinking himself into a hole.

You groaned, not wanting to think about it, but feeling nowhere near well enough to come up with a new solution.

The hair rose on the back of your neck as you felt a presence enter your room, but you had no energy to check who it was.

Not that you had to wait long.  “Oh dear, I really think you need a better alcohol selection, it smells like something died in here.”

“What do you want Balthazar?”  You asked tiredly.  “I’m hardly in the mood.”

“Yes, wallowing in self-pity I see.”  He said and you feel the bed dip next to you.  “I do hope you only do that for so long, there are still problems that need fixing.”

“Then let someone else fix them,” You grunt.  “I’m too busy dying of alcohol poisoning.”

There was a brief silence before he sighed and you felt a hand rest on your back, a cool wave of relief washing through you, your head clearing.

“No,” You groan, feeling much better already.  “Why?”

“So you and I can actually have a reasonable conversation,” Balthazar grinned at you as you roll over to glare at him.  “Or is that too much to ask at one o’clock in the afternoon?”

Sighing, you sit up. “Yeah, well, you can wait till I’ve had a shower now, bloody feathery bastard of a…”  You continued muttering as you disappear into the bathroom, Balthazar just raising an eyebrow after you.

“What is it you want exactly?”  You asked when you finally exited, throwing your dirty clothes on top of your bag and running your fingers through your wet hair.  “Or are you really just here to-”

You froze as you looked at him, Balthazar stretched out on the bed and he was eyeing a teddy bear carefully in his hands.

“What on earth could you possibly have this for?”  He asked, looking rather bewildered.

“That is none of your business,” You said, heat creeping into your cheeks.  “Now give it here Balthazar.”

Balthazar looked at you. “You don’t…sleep with it do you?”

“Balthazar, give it here!” You said and lunge for it, but he’s already up and off the bed, grinning.  "I mean it!”

“Seriously?”  He asked, eyes alight with mirth.  “How old are you exactly?”

“That is none of your bloody business!”  You snap, going for him again, but he was a lot quicker.  “I am not in the mood for this!”

Balthazar laughs. “You’re not in the mood for much at all today, are you?  You’re being rather aggressive.”

Your eyes flash dangerously. “Give.  Me.  Cuddles. Now.”

“Cuddles?”  He blinks at you, taking a moment before it dawns on him what you mean, and he bursts into laughter.  “Was that really the best name you could come up with?”

“I’m warning you Balthazar-”

“Or you’ll what?”  He asked, grinning.  “Are you really going to threaten one of your last remaining allies over a teddy bear?”

His smile faltered after a moment when you held your furious gaze on him.  “Now, come on Y/N, it is just-”

The pillow hit faster than he thought, smacking him right in the face and making him take a step back, stunned.  “What-”

The other pillow was already in your hands, moving towards him.  “Give me the bear Balthazar!”

“Now Y/N, you don’t want to-”

You hit him with the pillow, hard, and then kept hitting, not giving him a chance to speak. “You.  Are.  A. Complete.  Arse.  Balthazar!”

The more you hit, the more he starts to laugh, and the harder you start to hit, but can’t help but start laughing too.

“Okay, okay!”  He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry I made fun of your teddy bear!”

You give him one more hit before snatching the bear back and quickly stepping away, pointing at him, still smiling.  “You asked for that.”

Balthazar chuckled still looking a little worse for wear, a feather stuck in his hair that he quickly pulls out and let’s drop.  “I assure you that wasn’t necessary.”

“Again, you asked for it.” You said and quickly buried the bear back in your bag.  “And for your information, I’ve had Cuddles since I was three, my Mum gave him too me, and he’s incredibly special to me.”

He shakes his head.  “I never understand humans and your unusual habits.  It’s so…sentimental.”

“That’s the idea you idiot,” You fold your arms and look at him.  “It has personal value to me.”

“And that’s why you sleep with it?”

You roll your eyes. “I sleep with it on bad nights because it brings me comfort.  Does that satisfy your curiosity now?”

Balthazar tilts his head a little, a smirk coming to him.  “You know that there are other ways of getting comfort.”

Snorting, you throw the pillow at him, this time he dodges it rather lazily.  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and are actually here to be reasonable.”

“I am always reasonable,” He said innocently.  “And need I remind that it was you who was being ridiculous.”

“Uh huh,” You can’t but smile, actually glad for some company and the distraction.  “What do you want Balthazar?  Truly.”

Balthazar rubs the back of his neck and then shrugs a little.  “I need some help with a little problem, nothing too serious of course. I figure you could use something to do.”

You nod.  “Yeah…I could, certainly saves on alcohol and cigarettes.”  Saying that, you pulled the half empty packet out of your bag and threw it in the bin. “I don’t recommend the cigarettes.”

“I wouldn’t recommend the alcohol either,” He said, nodding to the empty bottle.  “If you’re up for it later, I can show you some proper recommendations.”

“Only if you’re buying,” You said, picking up your bag and throwing it over your shoulder.  “And you behave yourself angel boy.”

He chuckles.  “I promise I won’t steal Cuddles again. I’ll let you have that little secret.”

Rolling your eyes, you go to head to the door, only for him to take your arm and allow the two of you disappear.

[secondhand-trash]

The Usual

@shinsoubowl​ Week Day 3 (Prompt: coffee shop)

A/N: I’m so excited for this prompt uwu

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x reader

Description: Shinsou was by no means a coffe drinker. But if it meant that he could see the cute barrista who worked at the coffe shop by the corner, he would gladly pour that disgusting cup of liquid down his throat every day.

(guest starring the pikachu boy uwu)

Word count: 2131

Playlist:

Earth Angel(Will You Be Mine)//The Penguins

Coffee Breath//Sofia Mills

Cherry Wine//Hozier

-

The small bell hanging on the door frame chimed as Shinsou pushed the glass door open, the strong aroma of coffee immediately filled his sense as he walked in.

He first came to this small coffee shop by the corner of the agency he was working at a few months ago when he was asked to get a cup of coffee for his boss on his way to work. It was a cozy shop, the light shining in through the tall windows and plants sitting by every corner. There was only one barista by the counter when he walked in and the barista immediately greeted him with a bright smile as he walked up.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?”

“Er...” Shinsou looked at the message his boss sent him and winced at how specific the order was, “Can I have a tall caramel latte with double shots of espresso, one extra pump of hazelnut syrup, skim milk and a thin layer of foam for takeout please?”

He felt bad for all the extra requirements and was fully expecting the barista to gave him a look but instead of that, they laughed and the sound made his heart skip a beat. “Would you happen to be working in that pro-hero agency down the block?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah, I suppose very few customers would give such a long order except from our boss so it must be quite obvious.”

“Oh, trust me, his regular orders are far from being the most complicated ones we’ve gotten.” the barista said with a smile, “Anything for you?”

“Well...”

“We have a new blend of roast that just came in yesterday, would you like to try that?”

Shinsou had no intention to get anything for himself originally but something about that barista’s lovely smile clouded his judgment and before he knew it, he was walking out of the shop with two cups in head. Since that day, he had quickly become a regular at the coffee shop, stopping by each morning before work.

For the record, Shinsou hated the taste of coffee.

Perhaps it was the unhealthy habit of drinking black coffee as an energy drink back when he was studying in UA, but Shinsou could not help but scrunched in disgust at the bitter hue of that dark liquid. He tried adding heaps of sugar and milk to it but it did not make the drink any more appealing to him. How some people genuinely like the taste of it, he could never understand.

But something about that coffee shop made him want to go back day after day and it did not take him long to see just why that was the case.

“Morning!” you perked up from the counter as you caught the vivid shade of purple at the door from the corner of your eye.

Shinsou smiled. You were always so energetic each morning and seeing you made it just a bit easier for him to get through another day of hectic work. “Morning.”

“Should I get you your usual or do you want to try something new?”

“The usual would be fine,” he yawned before continuing, “I would be down if there’s something you recommend though.”

You quirked a brow upwards at the hero’s tired expression, “You look exhausted, even more so than usual. How much sleep did you get last night?”

“None.”

You gasped and sent him an exaggerated glare, he grinned apologetically in response. You picked up on Shinsou’s sleep deprivation very quickly since he started showing up, seeing as how he had drifted off to sleep several times while waiting for his order. “What have I said about-”

“Getting more rest. I know, I know.” he sighed, “I really tried, I swear. But villains don’t wait till you got 8 hours of sleep per day to start crimes.”

“I swear, you’re gonna get a sudden cardiac death one day at this rate.” you rolled your eyes as he laughed.

“Aw, you’re worried about me. That’s cute.”

“Don’t laugh, I’m being serious.” you glared at him before resorting to a soft sigh, “Can I get you a double shot to wake you up?”

Just the faint memory of the bitterness was enough to send him war flashbacks to when he used to stay up all night for catching up to school work after training. In all honesty, he would really much rather stick to the more tolerable taste of latte that he normally get but you were suggesting that to help him, how was he supposed to say no to that concerned look in your eyes?

“Of course.”

Shinsou cursed himself for not having a back bone as he squeezed his eyes tight the moment he tasted the strong coffee on his tongue.

“Are you planning to make a move on that cute guy who looked like he haven’t slept in ten years at all? Because I swear he is only here for you and I can tell that you are always being extra nice to him. It infuriates me that none of you are doing anything about it.”

You looked at your colleague as you tied the knot of the apron on your back. “What? I treat every customer the same!”

She clicked her tongue as she slammed her locker shut, “I don’t hear you gushing about other customers.”

You blushed and tried to brush her off, “I do not gush about him.”

“Oh, so not only were you gushing, you were also doing it without any awareness.”

“Just stop it,” you pretended to fix your hair in front of the mirror instead of looking at your friend as she snickered, “the coffee is not gonna brew itself if we stay here at the back.”

“Keep denying it, it’s not gonna change the truth.” she smirked as she yelled after you escaped to the store front.

You were still thinking about what she said to you when you were setting up the register. Were you being extra nice to Shinsou? Well, he was one of the nicer customers around. Literally every person who worked at the shop had their own favourite customer so it wasn’t that abnormal for you to act just a little bit differently in front of him. Right? Right?

“Daydreaming at work? That’s unlike you.”

You let out a soft yelp as the sudden voice startled you. You looked up with wide eyes as Shinsou stared at you with a crooked grin. He was one of the nicer customers you had here, and it didn’t hurt that he was also one of the more good-looking ones either. You felt warmth spreading from the tip of your ears to your cheeks at the realization that he was standing there while you thought of him. “You’re here earlier than usual.”

Despite not knowing the true cause, he did picked up on the faint blush on your face. Assuming that you were embarrassed from being startled, he couldn’t help but widening his grin at how adorable you looked.

“Got some work I have to finish before the day starts so I need to get back to the agency earlier.” he sighed as he felt the rumbling in his stomach, “I regret skipping breakfast for it though.”

“Oh,” you frowned at his lack of care for his body, “your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Sitting on a bar stool as he waited for his order, Shinsou was scrolling through his phone when he saw you put a brown paper bag in front of him.

“What is this?” he asked and picked it up. The bag was hot under his touch and he could smell a faint sweetness as he held it.

“A muffin.”

He tilted his head in confusion, “I did not order that?”

“It’s on me,” you smiled as you watched him peeking into the bag curiously, “no way in hell am I going to let you go to work with an empty stomach.”

Part of him wanted to tell you that he could not take it but the way you cared about his well-being filled him with joy and the pastry smelled so good. “You’re a god-sent.” he said as he hummed in content after biting into the warm muffin.

“Anything for my favourite customer.”

He wasn’t sure if the sweetness of the cake could compare to your words, the idea that he was at least somewhat special to you sent his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

You waved at him before he left and watched as Shinsou’s frame disappeared from your sight. You pressed your cold hand to your face and shivered as your heated face came in contact with the icy fingers. Your friend who was talking to you in the back room earlier leaned against the counter, “You looked flushed, what happened?”

“That man had no business looking that good in the early morning-” you paused as you realized what you just said and your friend gave you a cheeky grin, “oh my god, I do gush about him.”

She snorted as your eyes widened, “I told you so.”

“Let me repeat myself,” Shinsou stared at the blonde who was having the widest grin on his face, “why are you here?”

“Since our agencies are working on the same case together, I think it’d be nice if we catch up!” Kaminari said through his toothy smile. Shinsou was aware that he would be working with his UA school mate for the coming days since he got a heads up from his boss but he was not expecting to find Chargebolt waiting outside his apartment as he made way to work this morning.

“And waiting outside someone’s house is definitely a normal way to do that.” Shinsou said dryly but his friend didn’t seem to pick up on the sarcasm as he continued babbling on about the time they spent in UA as they walked.

“Hey!” you were wiping the counter when Shinsou walked in with someone by his side, “You brought a friend!”

“He’s not my-”

“Kaminari Denki, or Chargebolt as you will. It’s a pleasure.” you reached out and shook his extended hand as Shinsou clenched his jaw. “Is this the one you were-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Shinsou quickly cut him off before he kept running that large mouth of his, “I’ll have the usual.”

You smiled as you marked down his order and handed him the change, “One tall latte, coming right up.”

“What?” Kaminari looked at his friend and furrowed his eyebrows, “But you-”

“Don’t say it.”

“-hate coffee.”

Shinsou wanted nothing more than to slap the blonde for saying what he had been trying to hide in front of you for so long. He was filled with dread and embarassment as your eye widened in shock, “What?”

“It’s nothing-”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you nearly screamed at how bad you felt for basically assuming that he would want coffee, “I just thought you like coffee since it’s what you get the first time you were here and you actually hated it?”

“It’s fine! I’m the one who asked for-”

“No you did not! I thought you could not make your mind up so I took you not refusing my recommendation as a ‘yes’-”

“I could have said something-”

“We also have tea, you know? I could have gotten you tea!”

“It’s fine! Really, I’m here to see you anyways-” Shinsou stopped mid scream as he realized what he just said. You flailing hands froze mid-air as his words settled in your mind.

“Oh.” your voice softened as you finally got what he was implying, “Oh.”

“Yeah, so it’s ok. Really.” Shinsou said as heat spread all across his face and he sent a sharp glare towards Kaminari who just avoided his accusing gaze.

“Well, I still feel bad. Can I make it up to you?” you shyly looked away as he looked at your face that was as flushed as his own, “I know this really nice cat cafe, we can go there? You do like cats, right?”

“Love them, actually.” Shinsou smiled and it made your heart flutter, “That sounds great. Pick you up when you get off?”

“Sure. Tonight at 6?”

“Tonight at 6.”

Kaminari’s eyes flicked between the two of you as you just stood there and sheepishly glance at each other occasionally in silence. “So... Technically, I did a good thing right?”

“Shut up.”

“Ok. Sorry.”