#wait also side note usually when i make mood boards for my fics i can’t find pics that match my version of annie

[solar-halos]

it is quite a special mood board monday. since i have run out of mood boards to make, i decided to make one for the first few chapters of carrick bend by @pain-somnia aka my favorite odesta fic rn. tbh kinda nervous for this one since i couldn’t go off vibes alone but i guess i’m officially starting a chain of odesta fic recs now. here is the first one

[adoringhaikyuu]

when their teammate has a crush on you | 2

characters: akaashi + kyoutani + osamu + tendou

request: aaaaaaa!! i was stalking your feed when i thought of something 👉🏻👈🏻so you did a "when their teammate has a crush on you" and i reaaaally loved it a lot🥺could you do it with tendou, akaashi, kyoutani, and osamu? if you want to!! • by @kalesugar​

warnings: osamu and tendou’s are suggestive

notes: since osamu’s and tendou’s are sexual, everyone is 18+ in those but in the others there is no smut + (i might write a fic about tendou’s bc i’ve been wanting to write a smut w them idk if people want that)

part one | part two

akaashi:

so bokuto might have had a little crush on you

and it’s not like he would actually do anything about it

he respected you and akaashi and your relationship way too much

he even rooted for you two to get together, he thought you were perfect for each other (you were)

but he couldn’t help the way his heart would beat faster when you were around sometimes, the way his eyes would immediately drift to you when you walked in a room, the way your smile made him feel all tingly inside

he was honestly just waiting the feelings out and tried to act normal around you

he told akaashi about his crush on you cause he didn’t want to hide anything from him

and your boyfriend understood why he would have a crush on you, he couldn’t blame him––but that doesn’t mean he was too happy about it

realistically he wasn’t going to ban him from seeing you or anything, you were allowed to interact

but part of him felt a little odd when bokuto would make jokes with you, a light blush on his cheeks that you most likely assumed was from his laughter 

bokuto sure was making you laugh a lot tonight. the three of you were hanging out at his place for your weekly hangout and it seemed he just had an endless amount of jokes. it’s not that akaashi didn’t like his jokes, it’s just that he didn’t like that it seemed as though his best friend was making the jokes for the sole purpose of making you laugh. 

he thought he was doing a good job at hiding his inner thoughts, but in reality, you had picked up on them almost immediately. you waited until you were in the comfort of akaashi’s home, where you were staying the night, to ask him about it when you noticed he wasn’t going to bring it up himself.

“is something bothering you? could tell you weren’t really here tonight.” 

he looked away and shrugged, and you stepped closer to him.

“is it...maybe because bokuto has a little crush on me?” 

he held his breath for a second in shock as he looked at you silently, blinking a few times. “you...you know?”

you shrugged, a small smile on your face. “i had a feeling. i mean, your facial expressions may be minimal but i can still decode them keiji.” he blushed and looked down, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “i could tell you were watching him a little more closely when he would talk to me.” 

“i...i trust him, i do.” he looked into your eyes, “and i trust you too. it’s just...it doesn’t really make me feel too good knowing that bokuto-san,” he muttered the next part, “with all his muscles and charm––has feelings for you.”

you shook your head and put your hands on his cheeks to look into his eyes earnestly. “you have nothing to worry about baby, i promise that. you’re the only man i have eyes for.”

his hands found their spot on your waist as he gave you a small, but grateful and loving smile. “i know. i love you.” he kissed you lightly and you smiled against his mouth. 

“love you too. so much.” 

kyoutani:

let’s say oikawa likes you––

well more-so that he finds you attractive and can’t help but flirt with you from time to time harmlessly

kyoutani doesn’t give a fuck sfkjdh he will growl at his captain

sometimes he’s not even in the mood, he’ll just take your hand or throw you over his shoulder while you’re talking to oikawa and just walk away 

meanwhile oikawa is just pouting and complaining to your boyfriend as he blatantly ignores him

“you know it’s not very nice to interrupt a conversation like that, mad-dog!” 

oikawa wouldn’t actually try to steal you away from your boyfriend, but he did have some genuine questions that were borderline offensive sdfjghs

like “how did mad-dog manage to get you?” 

“are you sure you’re not being held against your will?”

bottom line is, your boyfriend is not happy 

he will try to prevent you from even being in his captain’s line of sight

he’ll step in front of you or turn around and go another way 

when oikawa approached you after the game, strategically waiting for your boyfriend to go get his things so he’d have more time to talk to you, you knew it was only a matter of time before you were snatched away by a growling kyoutani. 

his plan kind of work, considering the conversation lasted about thirty seconds? longer than it normally did. the captain was leaning against the wall next to you, his arm above your head as you looked up at him, completely unaffected by his charming eyes––you appreciated the effort he took to talk to you, but you knew he was just a natural flirt at heart. 

he was mid-sentence when your boyfriend came storming up to the two of you and grabbed your hand, marching you away from the complaining boy. you just laughed and squeezed his hand, “you know i thought you would have gotten tired of doing that by now.” he grumbled in response and you tugged his hand and led him to a quiet corner.

he was looking down at the floor but you put a hand under his chin and made him look you in the eyes, your small smile making him calm down a bit. “you have to stop letting him get to you like this. you know i’d never entertain his flirting––i’m yours.”

he clenched his jaw and nodded, looking to the side when he heard his captain walking by. you turned his head to face you again and surprised him with a kiss and his hands came up to squeeze your waist. he groaned into your mouth and you pulled away to look at him.

“that’s a good way to calm me down.”

you smiled, “oh yeah?”

he nodded, “yeah” and put his lips back on yours. 

osamu:

so atsumu may or may not have had a crush on you

and yes you were dating his brother

no he wasn’t going to steal you (though he thinks he absolutely could if he wanted to), he respects you both and your relationship

and he loves how happy you make his brother

...but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t check you out sometimes or harmlessly flirt with you (he can’t help it, have you seen yourself?)

osamu would catch his brother ogling at you all the time, or hanging around in the room when you’re over for no reason

he’d usually just smack his head and tell him to fuck off

or he’d take a different approach––

you were really trying to pay attention to atsumu’s story, or whatever it is he was saying, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of osamu’s lips on your neck, and his hand running along your thigh, the other gripping your waist as you sat practically on him on the couch. 

the two of you were spending time together, alone, when atsumu came in, and decided to third-wheel. you didn’t really have a problem with it, but by the way your boyfriend soon pulled you into his lap to distract himself, and most certainly you as well––you could tell he was bothered. 

atsumu trailed off and scratched his neck awkwardly, laughing. “do you guys wanna get a room or something?” he joked and his brother barely lifted his head, hands pulling you even closer. 

“we did get a room, you came in here.”

atsumu rolled his eyes. “so how long are you planning on assaulting y/n’s neck for?” 

osamu lifted his head, annoyance radiating off of him and brought one hand up to tilt your head towards his, his lips grazing yours. “unless you want to see us fuck, you should leave.” 

atsumu blushed but smirked, “i mean...”

osamu glared at him. “get out.”

tendou:

so when you and tendou started dating, you obviously started hanging out with him more, but also ushijima

it’s not like ushijima was expecting to develop feelings for you 

he didn’t want to––he honestly even searched up how to stop a crush from progressing 

he always thought you were nice and good looking but after hanging out with you more, that’s when he realized he liked your personality too and that you were a good person

he waited a little longer before telling tendou––yeah he told him

but tendou had already figured it out, his eyes picking up on the way ushijima was a little more tense or aware of himself when you were around

the way he would smile and blush when you hugged him goodbye

if anything, tendou thought it was cute 

he got you on board with his idea and after you all graduated, you both put the plan in action

ushijima was sat at the edge of the bed, looking at you and his best friend in confusion, “i thought you said my graduation present was in here?”

your boyfriend stood behind you, arms circling around your waist as he peered over your shoulder, his eyes piercing and teasing as he stared at the boy on the bed. “well you see ushi, after you told me about your little crush––which i’m assuming you still have?”

he nodded unashamed, and unblinking as he looked at the two of you and you felt a tingle run down your body. 

tendou went on, “well after that, i figured you might want to have some fun with the two of us,” he kissed your neck teasingly and the brown-haired boy shifted a bit on the bed, clearly itching to touch you. “we both agreed that it was a great idea.” he brought his attention back to your neck and you figured that was your cue to take over.

“so what do you say, ushi?” you sighed softly when tendou sucked a mark onto your sweet spot and you noticed ushijima’s eyes darken. “do you want this graduation present?” 

he licked his lips and scooted forward, his hands squeezing his thighs almost painfully hard. “yes. please–”

[sweetaesuga]

in your eyes | m

pairing: jungkook x female reader!

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, fratboy jk! ex-fuckboy jk! bookworm reader! friends to lovers!

warnings: language, insecurity, drinking, dom jungkook! fingering in public, exhibitionism, female masturbation, grinding, oral (m), dirty talk, light choking, degrading (slut/whore), squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (both are clean but stay safe), bathroom sex, riding, pinning.

word count: 10.6k+

synopsis: jungkook always sees you like the only girl in the world, and you just see him as a fuckboy. OR jungkook just wants a chance🥺

↳ a/n: first time i ever write a fic or smut please enjoy🤧 

You were only sixteen when you met him. He stepped into the classroom in all dark baggy clothes in an uneasy walk. At first glance you would of thought he was a timid person. Wrong, under all of that bullshit you see an egoistic and self-assured asshole that you're somehow happy to call your friend. You even learned that it was facade. Jungkook was a boy with a good heart who always remained loyal to all of his friends.

Jungkook just turned seventeen when he met you, noticing you straight away when you had a nice sense of fashion. You always had on an accessory that matched with the color of your shirt or jeans. You also always wore a bit of bright colors in your outfits. The bright unique makeup is what caught his attention too. He was proud to call you his friend.

When you both happily entered the same college along with your best friend Hayoon, everything changed. He began hanging out with a new group of friends, they were all older than them and deeply influenced him. He joined a fraternity then and began spending less time with you. He only came over to study or celebrate your birthday. His busyness merely reminded you how he preferred to spend his time hooking up with random girls every week rather than play board games with you or rant to him about your new book you were reading.

You don't exactly remember when he started but you do remember all the girls that talked about how amazing he was in bed which solely added more uncertainty on you. You even walked in on him and a freshman girl going at it in one of the sorority’s room at a party you were both attending.

The memory of when he started crushing on you was foggy to you but he always remembered it in a flash. It was when he had a taekwondo match, where circumstantially Jungkook's girlfriend, who wasn't really his girlfriend, at the time couldn't make it. His hopes were put down by the thought of someone not supporting him, since he always tried his best with his own cheerleader being there.

In the middle of the match, his eyes scanned the bleachers, wishing for someone to be there. His wishes were granted as he saw you there. Standing awkwardly, you gave him a little wave with a smile. His chest heaved in glee, sending you a quick smile before he returned to his match.

The sound of you screaming his name when he won, put a enormous smile on his face. Jungkook watched you run down the bleachers, apologizing to all the people you were bumping through. You leaped into his arms easily.

Your next words to him were a blur since Jungkook was too focused on just having you in his arms. He was grinning happily at you, hair sticking to his forehead. His heart heaved with warmth as you hugged him tightly.

He was twenty-one and you were twenty when he realized he had a crush on you.

You were seventeen when you realized you liked him.

But you were nineteen when you realized you would never be good enough for him.

"He then had the audacity to ask me if I slept with anyone else! The nerve of that guy," you felt like your ear was going to bleed out just by listening to your best friend blabber about her ex-boyfriend.

"Why don't you just stop talking to him? I don't know...block his number or something?" you suggested, very uninterested in this conversation about her ex-boyfriend contacting her. She could simply just block him out her life and be done with him. 

You stared at the worn out rubber of the tip of your black converse. She popped the gum in her mouth, the sound became annoying to you. Hayoon squinted her eyes at you, trying to find something to say to argue back to you. She instead changed the subject. "Where were you on Saturday?"

"Studying like the rest of the students here," you moved to rest your weight onto your right leg. "I just can't seem to understand how finals are coming up and some people are out here partying? The library was packed when I got there."

"Yeah well I wouldn't know because I didn't go," she grinned at you. "Instead I went to a party because I'm not a loser like you!" Hayoon giggled to herself and you rolled your eyes. "Also," she popped the gum loudly. "Jungkook was asking for you. Calling for his dream girl. . .or something like that—I don't know can't remember—too drunk you know?"

Your ears perked up to that. "Really?" you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear that got in the way and leaned forward. "Did you remember why he was looking for me?"

Hayoon grinned again. "Even if I do know why would you care? Don't you hate him or something?" she smiled evilly and threw her head back.

You froze and leaned back to your seat. You know what she was trying to do and it was never going to happen.

You were never going to give Jeon Jungkook a chance.

Jungkook stumbled into the library, eyes searching for you immediately. There was nearly a crowd of students that were preparing for finals. "Hey have you guys seen Y/N?" he asked a study group. A girl in your class answered him, telling him that you were somewhere by the windows.

Of course you were, he thought to himself. You would be seated at your usual spot. He walked over to the windows and spotted you straight away. Watching your figure become closer as he walked further, he took the sandwich out of his bag. "Hey Y/N!" you already knew that voice. You looked up at Jungkook. As usual he looked drop-dead gorgeous. He wore his usual dark baggy outfit, a black cargo jogger and a much darker hoodie with some black combat boots. He was showing off his helix piercing and his fresh new haircut.

"Nice haircut," you referred to his undercut and the fact that he was showing forehead. "Seems like you spent a lot of time on it."

"Yeah! Just for you," he smiled, his cheeks being pushed up. You let out a heavy sigh, clearly not in the mood for his flirtatiousness. "Got you a sandwich, by the way," he laid it in front of you.

You let out a small smile and took it from him, trying not to show how your mouth got watery so quickly. "Thanks, you didn't have to though," he shook his head.

"I don't want you starving to death," he sat down next to you, shoulder pressing against yours. "What are you studying for?" his nose nuzzled your ear. You rolled your eyes and shoved him away, ignoring the goosebumps his warm breath caused.

"Just getting my notes ready. Wanna highlight or color code it but feel like it's going to fuck up everything. Also don't wanna be those fucking girls that always have to make their fucking notes pretty. Also, do I look tired?" he studied your face for any features that made you seem exhausted. "I was up till two in morning watching these two Indian guys build a pool."

His eyes lit up. "Oh my god, I come across from those too."

"I know they came up all over my fucking Youtube recommendations. I got sucked into binge watching them. It makes me feel fucking lazy to be honest, the amount of fucking water they carry back and forth. I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

Jungkook snickered and made a note of how much you swore. "I need to make a swear jar for you. You swear too much."

"Not even," you laughed back at him and nudged his shoulder. "I'm just a little frustrated and stressed right now," his gaze dropped on the purple pins in your hair, holding each side of your hair. "I called my mom and she said to not stress over this, but you know how I get," you frowned and turned to him. He finally took in your appearance. Your bright purple eyeshadow with purple gems adorning the top of it. You wore a purple flare pants and a white long sleeved, deep v-line crop top. His eyes dropped down to your cleavage, trying to see if you had a bra on.

"Holy shit Y/N!" the students around him shushed him. He burned up and muttered a sorry to them, you giggled at how embarrassed he looked. "You look amazing. What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," you shook your head, a smile still on your face. "Can't I dress up once in awhile?" Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, knowing that you normally only wear outfits like this when they’re new or it’s the first week of school. "Okay," you dragged your word out. "I got this outfit last week and really wanted to use it today. It's cute right?"

"Yeah, really cute," he toyed with your hair pins, messing up your hair.

Neglecting his comment, you carried on. "I even got up in early in the morning to do my makeup. If I'm gonna show up wearing a new outfit, I might as well have a cute ass face to go with it," you frowned when you remembered something. "And I realized I don't have different color hair pins, they're all purple so thank fuck the fucking pants are purple."

"Well I think you look very cute, Y/N. Boop!" he poked your nose gently. You swatted his hand away, warning him to stop but all you're given is a large bunny smile. "Come on, eat your sandwich. I didn't just come all the way over here searching for you just to talk to you."

"Actually you did bitch."

"Oof, swear jar," he rested his palm out in front you. You took a bite out of the sandwich, placing a quarter on his palm. "No a dollar, Y/N."

"No! What the fuck—wait!" he held out his palm again. "That's not fucki—hold up, you can't just say a dollar," you whined and grabbed your bag. "I don't have money growing out of my ass."

"I don't know that yet. I'm gonna have to check to make sure," you threw a dollar at him. He laughed and picked it up.

"I know your kind," you spatted at him and tossed the other two dollars at him which he easily caught. "Wanna drain my f-freaking bank account."

"Oh come on, I want you to be my sugar mama," he jested, leaning forward to give you a huge smug.

"Sucks to be you actually. I'm looking to be a sugar baby, not a sugar mama," you glanced over your shoulder towards him. His laugh echoed and you watched as students gave him a dirty look from how loud it was.

"Of course. You're the brokest bitch in the city no one actually wants you to be their sugar mama," you gasped at his words.

"Am not!"

"Are so!" you both laughed at each other. His hand searched for yours underneath the table. He must've noticed how tensed up you had gotten when he found it, managing to wrap your smaller fingers into his. "I've been meaning to talk to you by the way."

You groaned, knowing where this will be going. "Jungkook, stop I'm not in the mood," you caught a quick glimpse of the time. "Look, I have to go, my bus will be coming soon." You don't let him mention anything else. Bolting out of the library, you leave a crestfallen Jungkook behind.

He shook his head and took the half eaten sandwich you also left behind. He trailed behind you, backpack threatening to fall down his arm. You proceeded to walk to the bus stop, Jungkook just close behind. "Didn't see you at the party on Saturday?" the voice came from behind you. You opt to ignore it but by the sound of his voice it was easy to tell that he has been dying to ask this question. When you didn't answer him, he tried again. "Seriously where were you on Saturday?"

You sunk down on the bench. "None of your business."

"Well, I was kind of worried about you. I thought you were going to be there so that's why I came," he took a seat right besides you. "Once I saw you weren't there, I left."

"I was at the library studying for finals," you weren't sure why you were telling him this.  After his little confession your heart felt weird. If you hadn't told him though, he probably would've guessed it. Still, he needed confirmation.

"What? Why didn't you tell me? We could’ve studied together!" he complained, nudging his shoulder with yours.

"Jungkook stop, I know what you're doing," you glared at him, wanting to get away. He frowned and reached over to hold you. "I already told you no," you hissed, disregarding the way his eyes appeared sunken at your response.

"Why not? I already told you, I'm not messing around anymore. I genuinely want to settle down with someone," he stared into your eyes with such intensity you felt like your brain was going to explode. Your ears took in his words slowly. "I want to be with you."

"Jungkook, please—"

"Come on, one date. I swear to god I've changed," he ranted. He's always been very keen on having a chance with you, but with all those girls that he used to take home you felt otherwise. You would listen to the girls on how good Jungkook was. How good he looked at night in the dark moonlight. How he would manhandle them in random places. How his muscles would appear every time he flexed them. How those hips of his were a miracle. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't ever want to see him that way too.

"I'm flattered, I really am—I just really don't want to be with someone like you. I'm sorry," you apologized, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

He blinked then squinted his eyes at you. "What do you mean someone like me?" He sounded somewhat offended at your words.

"You used to fuck around!" you fumed and threw your hands up. The bus was coming down the road towards the two of you. "I don't like that."

"Why not?" He's way too stubborn to let you go, you forgot.

"Because...I just don't okay? Lets leave it there," you stood up and walked over to the bus once it opened its doors. He followed close behind. Before you can enter your dollar into the machine, he does it for you.

The bus driver smiled at him while you glared at him. You walked to the back of the bus, smiling to all the other passengers but secretly upset. Jungkook still followed you like a lost puppy. You slid down in the seat. Your left arm feeling the side of the bus once you properly sat down. "Here, I'll pay you back," you hold out the dollar bill but he sat still in his seat.

"Well shit, sugar mama not right now," You sighed and put it back in your bag. You heard him snort.

"Come on, tell me why you won't give me a chance and I'll leave you alone," he offered. He held your eyes for a moment before you let out a breath of air and looked away.

If he’ll leave you alone, then you must have to say why you won’t grant him a chance with you, a chance for him to become your boyfriend.

"I'm too insecure for you," he opened his mouth but you shushed him. "I'm not...how do I put this? I'm not like them?" you questioned and glanced over at him. He had a look of worry washed all over his face. "The girls that you were with are those who are all popular, party all day, and are very attractive. They all do casual sex, and I don't want be that type of person, I want something serious. Like you have dated Soojin! She's really pretty, makes me gay even," you chuckled at yourself. "That's not the point though. If I'm with you, all I could ever think about is the girls you were with and how different I am from them. I just can't be with someone when all I'll ever think about are my insecurities with them. So how could I possibly ever be good enough for you?" you don't look at him after that.

He sighed and gripped your small hand into his. You almost cringed when you remembered how sweaty your hands were. "That's why I'm after you though. You're not like them. I wanted a change. You are good enough, you'll always be good enough for me. Hell, I feel like I’m not good enough for you. And I really don't care if you're any of that other stuff. I still want to have a shot with you." you don't realize how long you both were holding eye contact. The two of you don't look away from each other however. You don’t even comprehend how close you two have gotten. He reached over to push back a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched.

"I don't know Jungkook, I'm just really unsure," you admitted and leaned back in your seat to create some distance between you two. "My mind isn't clear right now but I highly doubt I would want to give you a chance."

"Really? You don't want me?" he bit his lip and glanced over at you. "How can I change your mind?" you stopped functioning when he reached over to press up against your thigh. His fingers travelled over to your inner thigh. He kept rubbing circles around there for a few minutes, hand drawing closer each time. Your cheeks grew crimson once you wrapped your mind around on how wet you become so quickly, and he barely even touched you what an embarrassment.

You were only getting aroused quickly because of how long your dry spell was. You haven’t being touched in so long that you craved it so much, no matter who it was with.

"What are you doing?" you hated how you felt so hot under his eyes at the moment. He brushed you aside until you repeated your question again.

"Nothing," his lips curved upwards. He faced forward, ignoring the fact that his hand was practically between your legs.

"Jungkook, stop that!" you hissed and whacked his hand away. He withdrew his hand from your inner thigh but still kept it at the top of your thigh. His thumb gently tracing circles into your skin.

"Bet you're fucking wet under that," he commented. You caught his stare, watching his eyes fixed on your cleavage. A smile forms across his face when he takes notice of how you're rubbing your thighs together. "Don't be scared, I'll go easy on you. You wearing those pink panties that I love on you?"

You knew what he was referring to. Leaving your laundry on your bed wasn't a good idea especially when an excited Jungkook was coming over to watch a new episode of You, but he didn't give you time to pick it up so your baby pink lace underwear was out on the sheets. "Shut up. I'm not going to let you do shit," you furiously crossed your arms over your chest. His eyes flickered back down to your breasts that were shoved up into a tighter position.

"Really? You say that but you're on the verge of asking me to touch you. I know it, Y/N," you bit your lip hard to avoid saying something. You heard him laugh. "It's okay, no one will notice, if you're a good slut and keep your mouth shut." Your eyes widened at his words.

You’ve never been called a degrading name in bed. With the two boyfriends you’ve been with, they always called you loving names that had gotten boring quick as well as their vanilla sex. Yet somehow it stirred you up at the thought of being called a slut, especially Jungkook calling you that.

But it was almost like a completely different Jungkook had surfaced. You knew he was some sort of sex god but didn't expect him to have such a dirty mouth. You decided to test the waters. A little fun wouldn’t hurt.

You spread your legs a little wider, inviting him to get closer. He stared into your eyes as you stared down at his hand. "Unbutton your pants," he demanded. Your eyes expanded even more at his words. You were just thinking of getting him eager not to do something here.

You looked around to see if anyone could see or hear you two but they were all facing forward and minding their own business. Your hands went to unbutton your pants, pushing your zipper down. "Open your legs," you did as you were told. "Wider, wider," your right leg rested on top of his muscular thigh. "You wet enough?" he asked, reaching down to your core. You shivered when his hand entered your underwear. He sinks his two fingers in and you whined. He took his fingers out, gazing on the glistening wetness on it.

"Dirty fucking slut," he murmured and dig his fingers back into you. You gripped his wrist harshly but encouraged him to add more fingers. He complied and proceeded to finger you in the back of the bus. "Never thought I would finger the girl of my dreams in the back of the bus," he chuckled as he heard you calling out his name. "You gotta be quiet if you don't wanna get caught." he teased softly. He pounded his fingers into you faster. His eyes laying upon your furrowed eyebrows and bitten lip. You began to nudge into his fingers, meeting him halfway with the movement of your hips. Your grip on his wrist tightened as he touched your clit with the tip of his finger. He snorted and proceeded to move against you, ignoring his hardness that was forming in his pants. You threw your head back and stared up at the ceiling. You bit your lip hard, almost drawing blood.

Jungkook clutched your knee, forcing you to open wider. You raked over the passengers in the seat, who are still unaware of you getting fingered at the back of the bus. You moaned into his hoodie. You let go of his wrist to hold his bicep. He looked down at you. He reached over to cup your face, bringing your lips to meet his. You’re taken back a little but nonetheless you open your mouth to tempt him to slid his mouth in. He fulfilled your craving. The two of you looked like random teenagers making out in the back but what they couldn't see was his fingers stuck up your wet core.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you said under your breath, pulling away from his redden lips. His fingers pounded brutally into you. He showed no sign of slowing down.

"You make a fucking noise and I swear to god I will take you on this bus full of people. I don't give a fuck, Y/N," your pussy quenched around him at that. Your wetness glimmered on his fingers.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, oh my god," you moaned against his neck. Hiding your face from him, you picked up the pace of your hips. "Uh—fuck, holy shit do that again," you referred to him touching your clit. He does that again. "Oh fuck," you whimpered when you felt an uneasy feeling building up within you. "I'm gonna fucking cum."

"Yeah? That fucking early? I knew your little pussy wouldn't be able to take it," Jungkook's lips formed a smirk. "And this is just with my fingers babe. Bet you can't handle my dick," you ignored him. You sobbed into his neck and leaned up to kiss him in efforts to silence your moans, cumming hard all over his fingers. It takes two minutes before you released Jungkook from the kiss. He drew his hand away from your skirt and made sure you were holding eye contact with him when he cleaned his fingers with his tongue.

You gulped. Reality finally hit you. You had let Jungkook finger you in the back of the bus. 

You pushed back against your seat and looked around to see if anyone was looking. Everyone on the bus was still unaware and you felt like you can breathe again. "Holy shit I can not believe we just did that," you brushed your hair back, somewhat disappointed at yourself for not stopping him.

Jungkook's smile surfaced. "I can't believe you just let me do that. Wanna return the favor?" he asks jokingly but watched your face to see if you were willing to suck him off. His hopes are put down when a frown appeared on your face and he could tell you wouldn't feel comfortable with that. "Joking babe."

"Don't call me that, please," you stressed. "This was a mistake, seriously don't ever speak of this with any of your friends. We're not going to speak of it either."

"I wasn't even going to," he muttered and looked away. "Funny how it's a mistake, Y/N, when you were over here telling me to keep going."

You fanned yourself, flapping your hand back and forth in front of your face. Jungkook looked at the layer of sweat near your hairline that glistened under the sunlight. "Stop, it was in the heat of the moment. It seriously was a mistake," he opened his mouth but you carried on. "Especially in the back of the bus, oh god, I'm really disappointed in myself," you zipped up your flare pants, not minding that your underwear is sticking to you.

"And I'm really disappointed in you too, for not giving me a chance," Jungkook said with knitted eyebrows. You sit away from him, making sure there was a good amount of space between the two of you. "Oh are you just going to ignore me now?" he isn't given a response, your tongue knotted together in your mouth. "So that's how it's gonna be now?"

You gathered your bag. The bus curving towards the upcoming bus stop. "This is my stop," you disclosed. He captured your forearm which quickly caught your attention.

"Don't be like this, Y/N." You shrug him off and walked out of the bus, leaving Jungkook and his gloomy thoughts behind.

"Shut up, stop playing with me!" Hayoon exclaimed, her eyes glimmered with interest as you filled her in on the day before. "You did not let Jungkook finger you on the back of the bus," she laughed out loud at her sentence, still not believing the words coming out of your mouth. You groaned and sunk your head back down on the table. "I mean gross, but hey, you're catching dick."

"I'm not catching dick, and stop saying it's gross it makes me even more disappointed in myself."

"I just don't understand how you can tell him you don't want him and tell him the reasons why and then let him finger you at the back of the bus?!" your face scrunched up at her words. "I seriously don't get it Y/N. It's like you're provoking the guy that's going after you and that's pretty fucked up. Play with his dick, not his emotions, oh wait—”

"I told him no multiple times."

"Then why the fuck would you let him finger you in the back of a bus?" Hayoon rubbed her temple before munching on a fry. "I think you do have a crush on him, you just don't want to date him because of all the girls he’s been with.”

You let her words settle in your mind for a moment, not even realizing that she held your hand in hers. "But baby, that's called the past. It's the least thing you got to worry about since you already know it. Take a risk, go out with him. He's ready to be in a serious relationship with you, he's been telling me this since Friday."

You sighed, lips forming a pout. "I don't know."

"Well make up your mind quick cause' he's coming this way," her words are rushed as she glanced over at Jungkook, who's heading over your way.

"What?!" you're just about to turn your head his direction when Hayoon grabbed your jaw.

"What are you doing you stupid bitch?! Don't look—okay, pretend like I'm not here, pretend like I'm not here!" she turned away from you and placed her earbuds in her ears.

"Wait does my hair look good?!" you caught her by the arm before she can leave.

"For who?"

You snapped her head towards Jungkook, who's already smiling at you. His black cap floated over his eyes as he dug his fingers into the pockets of his jogger pants. You coughed when you perceived that you were checking him out. "Um, no one. Just wanted to see if it's messy," you don't know why but your cheeks burned so hard, maybe at the fact that you know it is messy.

His hand came in contact with your head before he moved a strand of your hair that looked out of place before pushing your baby hairs down. You swatted his hands away, ignoring how your warm ears were tingling. "There, it's not that messy anymore. I brought something."

He sat down besides you. You eyes fluttered over to Hayoon. She spread a smirk out on her lips. While Jungkook continued finding the item he wanted to show you, something along the words that it was a jar. Her fist comes up besides her mouth, opening it slightly. Your cheeks become crimson when she began to push her left fist towards her mouth while her tongue kept knocking into her right cheek.

"Here," Jungkook placed a jar in front of you, the bright glittery letters mocking you. Swear Jar, it read at the front. "Every time you cuss, it's more money to my bank account."

Your lips loop downwards into a frown. Your eyebrows furrowed together in the progress. "Not fair, I told you I didn't want to be a sugar mama."

"Fine, this is both of our swear jar."

"Deal."

"Okay, now that that's out of the way, we can talk about yesterday," he put the glittery jar, he decorated last night for you, back in his backpack. A sudden weight pressed down on your shoulders at the thought of him bringing up what happened yesterday.

"Jesus Christ, what do you carry in there?" Hayoon added unintentionally and you're thankful for that. As much as she wanted to know about the encounter between the two of you, she also wanted to know what Jungkook carried in that big bag of his.

"Dildos."

"Wait, deadass?" she jumped up in her seat. I snorted at her, earning a glare. Jungkook's lips formed a line, specifying that he was joking. "Well fuck, it just looks like it's gonna break your back. Dude you know what that reminds me of?" she asked you. Your mind doesn't come across anything so you shook your head. "The Rosie girl? She was giving dildos out at this campus cause' she wanted to, quote, fight absurdity with absurdity. All over Twitter. Wish I could be there to get one."

Jungkook's eyes crinkled up as he laughed at her. The sound ringing through your ears, only to devaste you even more. "Can we talk about yesterday?" he leaned over and whispered to you.

You swore you felt his lips brushing against your ear. It stirred up your brain. "What about yesterday?" your hands started shaking and you hoped he didn't see how anxious you have become.

Luck wasn't on your side today however, his upcoming question boosting your anxiety even more. "Why are your hands shaking so much?" he grasped his bigger hand in yours.

You are quick to take it out of his. "We agreed that we wouldn't talk about what happened yesterday. It was a mistake I didn't—"

"No, you agreed that we wouldn't talk about it," his voice raised slightly to get your attention. Your mouth snapped shut. "We need to talk about it. How the fuck can you be playing with my feelings like this?" Hayoon whistled, mentally seeing eye to eye with Jungkook. "I want to have a chance with you, a shot at us. You give me all these mixed signals and then when I try to make a move on you, all of the sudden you act like a bitch Y/N."

"Well what do you want me to say? That I fucking like you back too?" you challenged and stood up from your chair. The students around you turned their heads over to you, watching the scene in front of them unfold. "How the fuck am I even playing with your feelings? I said I wanted to just be friends! I'm sorry that you're misinterpreted our friendship but that's not my problem!" you wished you could've shut your mouth but all you could see was red. Perhaps you were letting go of all the rage you’ve ever resented over him for the past months.

For ditching you to attend parties or being with other girls. For not always being there for you.

"What the fuck do you mean that's not my problem?!" he mimicked you, staring up at you. "You let me finger you and you expect me to believe that you just wanna be friends? Are you even listening to yourself?! You felt something back there."

Hayoon stepped in, walking over to the two of you. "Okay, I think you guys should just shut up," your eyes wandered around the room, where everyone was watching your interaction.

"Whatever," Jungkook's chair scraped the floor harshly as he pushed it back. He dug into his backpack before placing the jar in front of you. "You can keep that and this," he put down a package full of glittery hair pins, all different colors. Your heart wrenched as you watched him walk away, sullen. His steps are quick so he can take the attention off of him.

You turned the jar and saw that the top had words on it. Splattered in messy pink glitter, Sugar Mama's Swear Jar :D.

Jungkook was avoiding you. You could tell because he stopped coming after school to study with you, which was okay at first until you found yourself yearning for him.

It was stupid, really. After all that debate on how you two should just stay friends, you can't just tell him how much you miss him. That'll make you seem like an ass.

And trust me that's the last thing you want.

Your day was going bad, your professor yelled at you for not paying attention and put you in the spot, embarrassing you in front of the class. You were okay until a girl gave you a look of pity and you had a breakdown in the bathroom right after.

When you went to go meet up with Hayoon, it'll only got worse. She cancelled on you after forcing you to wait for her for thirty minutes. Just as you're leaving a group of middle schoolers thought it would be funny to step on a ketchup packet and let splatter everywhere, resulting in the back of your white top covered in dots of ketchup.

You swore you almost hit the kid who came up with it, even thought about running him over when you saw that the stains were everywhere and even in your hair.

After showering and getting the ketchup out of your hair, you went to work that ensued in you coming home with mascara practically running down your eyes, that were ready to pour out tears if something else happened to you, due to you wrongly mixing up orders and getting yelled out by a customer.

Now here you were, sitting on the living room floor with wet hair after taking another shower which mainly just involved you sitting on the tile floor and crying. You ate the Chinese takeout you have gotten during the way, ignoring the way people were staring at you, with sympathy.

It was the last thing you needed. Maybe karma was coming to get you for saying those things to Jungkook. But at this point all you wanted was some reassurance, a shoulder to cry on, someone to be there for you.

Jungkook.

You couldn't sleep. No matter how hard you tried you just couldn't. Hell, you even closed your eyes for a solid thirty minutes yet you were not able to drift off into slumber. Maybe it had to due with the weather? It was freezing, if you stepped a foot outside you would become an ice sculpture in an instant.

Or maybe, the most logical one compared to all the others, was Jungkook fingering you on the bus. You can't seem to get that scene off your mind. Your brain kept drifting over on how stunning he appeared, his dark eyes staring straight at yours as he watched your mouth form an O shape. He only ever broke eye contact when he snuck a look of how his fingers vanished into your pants.

Then your mind would stumble onto the memory of you yelling at him, telling him how his feelings for you were not your fault. You despised yourself at that moment. You sighed and laid back into your pillow, staring up into the ceiling. "I can't believe I am even having these types of thoughts," you slowly opened your legs while shutting your eyes. As long as you don't think about him, it'll be okay.

But you do. Sliding off your underwear, the first thing you thought about was Jungkook. His bunny smile rested on his face. You opened your eyes to get him off your mind and closed them again. You let out a gentle moan when you feel how wet you are.

He came back again. This time he settled right besides you on the bed. His hand is shoved between your legs. You moaned when he buried his head in your neck and kissed your skin there. "You like that, princess?"

You frowned immediately, he didn't call you any pet names. From what you can remember, he called you a degrading name.

"You like that dirty slut?" you mewled at him. He moved his fingers ceaselessly inside of you whilst breathing down your neck.

The sound of a zipper being undone makes your eyes crack open. You took a glimpse of Jungkook, his hand disappearing inside his jeans that displayed his muscular thighs.

You whined at him and he hovered on top of you. Your breathing got heavier as his cock sprung out of his jeans. "Oh god," you moaned as he slid himself inside of you so effortlessly. Your hands moved quicker inside of you. Feeling your wetness spill out of you and onto the mattress underneath you, you imagined him pounding into you. Your hands clamped on his long hair with your legs in the air as his hips furiously snapping into you.

It doesn't take you long to cum, given the fact at Jungkook's pace it seemed like he wasn't going to stop. He disappeared, leaving you sweaty and tired on the bed with your fingers stuck inside you. "Holy shit, I can not believe I just did that.

Recalling your words that were thrown at Jungkook, a heavy weight on your shoulder returned heavier as ever, reminding you how you practically lost your shot with him.

Shame on you for not giving Jeon Jungkook a chance.

"I think I was too harsh on him."

"You think? Don't lie to me bitch, you know you were fucking harsh on him," Hayoon stood in the middle of your room, scanning your closet for a dress she can wear to a party.

It was almost three days since your argument with Jungkook in front of everyone. You expected to make up with him on Thursday but Jungkook avoided you like you were the plague. He didn't text you for any notes he needed to borrow, nor did he usually come to study with you or leave you a sandwich. You never realized how apart of your life he became, especially when he didn't sit next to you for one of your shared classes. Instead, he chose to sit next to Taehyung, his best friend. It was Friday now and to be quite honest, you missed him.

"Don't trip about it. He could be at the party tonight, getting over you and possibly getting himself a girlfriend so you don't have to worry about him pinning over you. Now what the fuck should I wear?"

You didn't like the sound of that. Jungkook possibly finding another girl. Your consciousness settled back in your mind. How can you even say shit like that? You rejected him, you have no right to tell him not to move on. You sighed to yourself and laid back into the bed. "Maybe I shouldn't go. I don't wanna see him."

"I don't wanna see him." she dragged the straps of your orange dress up her figure. "Shut up because on Wednesday you kept asking why he wouldn't talk to you, like bitch I wouldn't talk to you either with that shit you pulled back there."

"Why not?"

"You're not serious right?" she turned back to you. She raised her eyebrow, challenging you. You groaned and followed her out of the room when she didn't receive an answer. "That's what I thought," you heard her under her breath.

"Not gonna lie, I think I'm gonna break my ankle with these bitches," you pointed down at your high heels, slowing down. You stopped to fix them. Hayoon carried on walking to her car, leaving you behind.

"You wanted to wear them. Now get in," she honked her horn. You hissed at her, reminding her that the neighbors are going to complain. "Don't give a fuck, get in loser we're going to party!" she honked her horn longer.

You ran to her car when you realized she wasn't going to stop. "You need the swear jar, you stupid bitch."

"Not even," before you could say something back, her music blasts through the car. She screamed out the lyrics, encouraging you to join along. "In your eyes! You lie but I don't let it define you—oh define you!"

"You sound like a dying cat."

"I tried to find—fuck you then."

Along the way you started to wonder how she even got her driver's license. Hayoon almost went on the sidewalk when she was tried to park which forced you to get out of the car and direct her.

"Keep going, keep going."

"Fuck, bitch you sure? I don't want another ticket for being on the red line," her head stuck out to make sure she wasn't going to hit the car behind her.

"Yes I'm sure—okay stop!" Hayoon shuts off the engine, stumbling out of the car. She laughed to herself before walking up to the fraternity house with you. "Okay, I forgot what it was like coming here."

The first smell that filled your nostrils was vomit. You glanced down towards the ground and saw a distraught girl on the front lawn throwing up while her friend rubbed her back. Hayoon advised you not to look, to give the poor girl some pity. Reluctantly, you entered the house with a clumsy walk. Hayoon noticed and suggested that you go have a drink. You at first declined but once your eyes scanned the room and landed on Jungkook leaning against a wall with a redhead clinging onto him. You made your way to the open kitchen. Unknown to you, jealousy boiled in your stomach.

So that's how you end up on your first shot of a tequila with a cup of vodka already resting in your liver. You weren't drunk, still you were not far from being tipsy. Conscious enough to see that Jungkook's eyes were on you while you downed the shot. Eyes focused on your throat as you swallowed. He exhaled, watching you pull out your phone and tap away. The red head girl right besides him, tried calling his name out to hook his attention. He brushed her off, muttering something to her that he didn't sleep around anymore.

His frustration grew even more when he saw you wandering over to the middle of the room where sweaty bodies were grinding on each other. Your flimsy black silky dress was not doing him justice either, seeing how tight it was on your figure. It showed off your curves well; he hated how good you looked. There was a big opening in the back that stopped near your hips. Should be a crime to look that good, he thought to himself while trying to keep his eyes on you.

Your hips swayed to the music blasting throughout the house. You opened your eyes, landing on Jungkook immediately. His eyes devouring you as he took a sip of his beer, eyes locked on your hips. You tried not to look at him again but still wondered what was going in that mind of his. You raised your hands up in the air, dress threatening to rise up.

Your curiosity got the best of you. Squinting one eye open to take a peek of Jungkook but you failed to locate him.

A gasp left your mouth as someone pressed their front on your back, rubbing their crotch on your ass. A whiff of the sweet scented Victoria Secret perfume gave the identity away. You tilted your head so that it laid on his chest. Confirming your thought, Jungkook stared down at you with dark eyes. His arm muffled around your waist to press you further into his chest. He felt his body go ease when he saw your lips bunch up into a smile. Your hips rocked from side to side on him. Jungkook held his hand on your waist, encouraging you to continue. You willingly do so arms flinging on his neck as you dragged yourself down his chest. His growing bulge poked your ass as you grind yourself on him. Your head laid back on him. Jungkook leaned down to meet your lips. His mouth entwined with yours, lip gloss rubbing off onto his mouth. You moaned into his mouth and sensed that his hand was harshly holding one of your ass cheeks.

"You wanna go upstairs?" He was somewhat taken back at your suggestion but agreed nonetheless. With his fingers keeping a firm grip on yours, the two of you went upstairs.

He guided you towards the room, which all winded up preoccupied due to freshman trying to lose their virginities. You cringed when you come face to face with someone's bare ass pushing against the lanky girl. Jungkook pushed you into the bathroom, telling a man to fuck off when he tried getting in.

"Hey," you glanced up from the floor onto Jungkook's eyes. He offered you a small awkward smile, warming your heart as if he wasn't rubbing his dick on your ass a few minutes ago.

"Hi," your voice sounded very small and Jungkook wanted to reach out and reassure you that he only came up to you to apologize, not to have you grind on him in the middle of the room. "I'm sorry," you began, eyes fixed to the ground. "Everything I said on that day was really fucked up. I care about your feelings. I care about you and I was giving you mixed signals and it's not okay."

"I'll be fine," his hand held your arm, rubbing it slightly. "It's okay if you don't return my feelings, I'll get over it—"

"But that's the thing I don't want you to get over it."

Jungkook blinked once, twice, and then another third time. Trying to comprehend your words while also trying to figure out what he was going to say was hard.

Your glossy lips moved. "I'm really willing to give you a chance and I'm so sorry for being such a cunt about it. I just—I needed some realization to understand my feelings. Truth is I've had a crush on you, but every time I saw you with these girls I always told myself I'm not good enough for you and that I'll never be. I’m also mad at the fact that you’re barely realizing your feelings towards me just now.”

He doesn't say anything which doesn't help your anxious state at the moment. Your gut scolded you, reminding you that you probably lost your chance and now you look like an idiot to him right now, confessing your feelings.

Jungkook sighed before embracing you. You stand still in shock from his sudden movements but chose to hug him back. His chin dropped down onto your head. "You're good enough for me, Y/N. You always have been and I'm sorry that it took me all these years for me to realize that."

"I couldn't stop thinking of you and all the shit I said. I'm really sorry from the bottom of my heart," you admitted.

His bulge pushed against you and your cheeks flushed warm. Jungkook didn't say anything but bent down to kiss you. His lips moved roughly against yours. Your fingers coming up towards his hair to run through them. His hands digging harshly into your ass, possibly leaving small bruises behind but you're unbothered by it.

You pulled away, enough to stare up at his eyes. "I seriously couldn't stop thinking about you. I fucking masturbated to you, just by thinking of the bus shit," you confessed, watching his face lit up in surprise.

"Yeah? What was going on in that head of yours?" he encouraged you. You giggled at him, his thigh coming between your thighs.

"Your fingers in my pussy," your cheeks burned pink as he coaxed you to go on. "Your big dick pounding in me."

The look on his face is priceless but it just stayed there for a mere second as Jungkook recollected himself. He couldn't believe what was coming out of your mouth, never in a million years would he ever imagine you of all people saying this. The warmth travelled towards his crotch as he hardened at your words. His friend of seven years, his crush for almost two years was here in front of him, revealing that she touched herself to the thought of him. A blissful comfort spread all over his body.

"Don't you want that to happen?" he didn't even realize how close you were, he was too caught up in his thoughts. "You don't want to fuck my brains out?"

Your thighs closed around his thick ones. You reached up to kiss his neck, pecking his soft skin. Jungkook grunted as you left open mouth kisses behind, gripping his hand and directing it near your hips.

"I can't do it here," Jungkook whispered to you once he grasped the circumstances. In a fraternity bathroom with people out there that can possibly hear you two? Jungkook would never allow himself to touch you here the first time you two have sex. You whined against him, rubbing your crotch on his thigh. "Shit, seriously Y/N? You're making this hard for me."

"What your dick? Why? I don't care where we do it. I just—I need it to happen—come on Jungkook fuck me," if your mind wasn't clouded by lust you would been very disappointed at yourself for what you were saying, but you could care less. He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling. He was fighting with himself.

The only sound in the bathroom was the loud heavy bass music playing and the two of you heavily breathing. "Do you want me to go find another guy out there that can do the job for you or what?" you tried riling him up and it worked cause Jungkook was staring at you with dark hooded eyes. "Cause' I could walk out there and take any guy home with me do you want that?" you both know deep down you wouldn’t be able to do that. You’re too shy.

Jungkook came across as if something possessed him suddenly. His hair falling over his eyes slightly. His tongue came out of his mouth to moisten his lips. "Get on your fucking knees," Jungkook snapped, a hand going back to get tangled in your hair. You dropped down to the ground. "I wanna see your pretty tits," you pulled down the straps of your dress and got rid of your strapless bra, throwing it aside. "Well aren't you a desperate cock sucking whore?" you whined at him with your dress bunched up around your waist. "What don't tell me you like being called that?" he chuckled. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation.

You reached over to unzip his jeans. He merely let out a chuckle, extremely satisfied with your avidity. As you rolled down his boxers, his hand wrapped around your hair. "Look up at me, whore," your eyes jerked up to him. "Open your mouth," you gulped at the size, wondering if it was even going to fit in your poor mouth. He teased, rubbing the head of his cock on your lips when you did. Your jaw ached as you tried opening as wide as you can to please him. You looked up at him as he slid his cock in your mouth. He groaned, loving the warmth and wetness of your mouth surrounding him. He maintained the eye contact between you two whilst he carried on shoving his dick in your throat. You moaned and moved back once it hit your throat. But before you can, he gripped the back of your hair firmly and thrusted his hips forward. You gagged around him, tears brewing and ready to burst out. You extended your hands out to his thighs. He held your head in place, his cock shoving down your throat at an animalistic speed. "What a good little slut," he eventually praised you. "Letting me fuck her throat hard and shit," you shut your eyes.

You regret doing so. Feeling a tug to your hair, your eyes snap open and look up. "You get praised like a good bitch once and you think you can be a bad girl? I don't think so, whore," he stared straight into your eyes with his dark orbs devouring you. Your drool slithering down your chin. You peer up at him with desperation written all over your face. Your fingers glided down to your dress. You kept your gaze on him when your fingers entered your pussy, feeling how wet you are. "Are you seriously touching yourself?" he sounded thrilled at the idea. Jungkook stopped moving for a second, allowing you to suck on the head of his cock. He watched mascara run down your cheeks, feeling some sort of ego boost that he was making you look this way.

You nodded frantically, moving your fingers faster. You sucked him harder, your jaw throbbing as you attempted to deep throat him. He forced your head deeper so that your nose was touching his pubic hair. "I didn't give you permission, disobedient slut. You got three seconds to finish," he finished with a sullen laugh, knowing you weren't. "One, two–" Jungkook watched your eyes become watery as you hopelessly tried to get yourself to cum in just three seconds. "—three, take your fingers out whore."

You obeyed and showed him your fingers, glittering under the bathroom light, even though on the inside you were begging to be touched again. You thought of going against him. Jungkook let a cackle escape from his mouth. "Fuck, you're so fucking wet I bet you're fucking leaking out onto the floor."

You mewled, bobbing your head up and down. Releasing his cock out of your mouth with a lewd pop, you batted your eyelashes up at him. "I'm so fucking wet for you," he flashed you a quick grin, obviously content with your answer. He brought your fingers up to his mouth, sucking them off while maintaining eye contact with you. His tongue swirled around your finger as you repeat the same motion on his cock. He released your finger.

"You can use your hands," you pull away right after he said that. You pumped him rapidly, your hand moving back and forth. Your ears took in his grunts, feeling some pride for causing him to make those noises. He almost came when he felt your warm, wet mouth around one of his balls.

"I want you to cum on my tits." he agreed, staring down at you. Tension builds within his stomach as he groaned out loud. You gaped at him when his cum shoots towards your neck, aiming towards your breasts.

Jungkook's breathing became heavier as he came back down from his blissful state that he was in. He grew hard in a instant when he saw how fucked you looked. Your mascara running down your eyes, leaving a trail of black ink behind. Your hair was tangled together into a mess due to him gripping it so tightly. With saliva dripping down your red swollen smeared lips, his eyes drifted further down. The straps of the dress you were wearing were rolled out into your stomach, exhibiting your perky breasts that are smeared with his cum.

"You look like a fucked whore," he smiled at you with satisfaction resting in his mind.

You giggled at him, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yeah, not just for you," you gazed up at him, a small smile on your lips.

He helped you get off the floor. His facial expression is now serious, indicating that he wasn't happy with your answer. Jungkook's fingers tapped the cold surface of the sink, indicating to sit down on it. You do so, opening your legs slowly.

He watched, eyes strictly locked in between your legs. "Who are you so wet for?" he asked.

You snorted and shrugged which only grew him more frustrated.

Jungkook growled and flipped you over. He bended you over the bathroom sink and bore his eyes into you by the mirror. "You wanna keep acting like a slut, you're might as well be fucked like one," you silently squealed in excitement. Jungkook lifted your dress up in one go. He pulled your underwear down, making you step out of them. "Put your leg on the counter," he commanded and you do as you're told. Lifting your right leg on the counter while the other one remained on the ground. You heard him frantically pull down his jeans. You gasped when you feel the tip on your entrance. He reached over for the condom on the counter.

"No!" you exclaimed. Jungkook stopped and looked down at your worriedly, wondering if you wanted to stop now. You gulped, feeling your cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Don't use one please." you whined. "I want to feel you raw."

You heard Jungkook chuckle from behind you. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he was fucking thriving. "Yeah? My fucking slut wants me to do her raw?" he started pushing himself. You held your breath as your walls allowed him to enter, tightening around his big shaft. His cock rimmed inside of you

"Y-yeah," you manage to choke out, staring at him through the mirror. He maintained eye contact to where your bodies connected, watching his cock sink into you as he held your hips in place. 

"Has any other guy fucked you raw, slut?" Jungkook brought his hand around your throat. You sensed that you could orgasm right there. You shook your head as he finally is inside of you fully. "What was that? Use your words, come on you're a big girl," he gripped your inner right thigh with so much strength, he could break it off if he tried. I mean those biceps.

"N-no only you. Just for you," he grinned at that.

"Good," you let out a loud moan when he started finally moving. His hips rutted into yours at an animalistic speed. He stared at you through the mirror, watching how your mouth opens and your breasts jiggle. He pressed your throat a little harder. "Bet no guy ever made you feel this way."

"Only you, Jungkook! Only you!" you manage to breath out. Your knuckles are almost white by how hard you're holding onto the counter. He lowers himself so his face is near your ear.

"Yeah? Look at you, telling me how I'll never have you yet you're over here drooling over my dick. Fucking whore." you whined harder as he breathed down your neck. You feel yourself began getting more wetter at his words. "Imagine what your family and friends will say when they find out you're letting me fuck you in the ass in a dirty bathroom at a frat party."

You shut your eyes, your pussy swallowing him back in. His hand squeezed your throat a little tighter. "Fucking slut," he snapped his hips at you. You moaned out loud, shamelessly. "On the dance floor dancing like one."

"Because I am one," he chuckled at that, fingers coming up to pinch your nipple.

"Yeah? Who do you belong to? Whose slut are you?" the grip on your throat tightened, not enough to block your airway however. Jungkook kept his eye on you through the mirror, your lips molding into an oval shape. His palm came down to meet one of your asscheeks. You jumped forward, Jungkook pulling you back onto his cock. He stopped moving to lock eyes with you through the mirror, his lips hovering over your ear. "When I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer," you tried to move your hips a bit but he caught you before you can. "Now," his voice deepened. "Whose slut are you?"

"Your slut! I'm your slut! Jungkook, please—"

"Yeah? Scream when I fuck you so that everyone knows who your pussy belongs to," his hips rammed into you again. You swore you can feel him fucking into your cervix. You let a loud moan break free from your mouth, his hot breath fanned your ear.

A roaring pounding on the door snapped his head away. You whimpered and become aware that his pace was reducing as his attention was now on the other man trying to get in. Jungkook yelled out words that sounded fuzzy to your ears considering all you could hear is your heartbeat.

"No, no, Jungkook don't stop," you pleaded with him, twisting yourself to look at his lust filled eyes. "I'm almost there please!"

You almost screamed at him when he pulled out. He sat on the toilet lid, tapping his thighs that were spread out in front of him. "Ride me," he demanded. You're somehow quick on your wobbly legs, getting on top of him. You grasped his swollen red cock, lining it up with your entrance before sinking down.

Jungkook's hand went towards your hip to support you while the other one went further down to touch your swollen clit. His mouth came near your ear as you cried out his name. "If you don't come in the next minute, you're not cumming tonight, got it slut?" you panted but nonetheless nodded frantically.

And with that Jungkook sat back, watching you fuck yourself on his cock, you were basically using him as a toy and Jungkook loved that. The desperation look on your face was amusing and Jungkook stored in in his memories.

"Oh shit! Fuck I'm almost there," his palm travelled further down to rub your ass.

"Time's almost up," he wasn't actually keeping track but your determination to cum on such a short amount of time was adorable to him. Your thighs smacked his, bouncing on his cock faster. Jungkook's finger carried on rubbing against your clit, his eyes trailing down from your face to your bouncing breasts.

Your eyes rolled back as you heaved up. Your mouth opened wide, feeling your orgasm wash over you. Jungkook heard his name leave your mouth, panting. He almost came when he felt something warm soak into his jeans. Looking down, he became aware of what just happened.

"Fucking dirty slut," he hissed and allowed you to relax your head on his shoulder as your whole weight sunk down on him. His ears took in your sniffles. "Look what you did, squirted all over me slut."

Your cheeks burned in humiliation, nuzzling your nose into his shoulder.

You gasped when he lifted his hips up to meet yours. You cried out to him to stop but Jungkook's quick to silence you with his fingers stuffed in your mouth. Your tears threatened to spill. "You're so tight, fuck! Need to fuck you more, whore,"

It doesn't take long for him to sprout into you, judging the way you tightened around him and how fucked your face look when he looked down to meet your eyes. With his cum coating your walls, he slid out of you. A bit of cum came out and dropped down to his black pants leaving a white stain behind.

You attempted to stand out on your own but failed due to you not being able to feel your legs for a second. Luckily, Jungkook is there to help you. He bent down to help you put on your underwear.

"Are you on birth control?" he asked while zipping up his pants. You checked your face in the mirror, noticing the hickeys all over your neck and the mascara smothered down your cheeks.

You turned to look at him, pulling your dress down."Are you really asking me after we just had sex? Where's my bra by the way?" your face is met with your bra when he flung it at you.

He laughed, watching you put it on. "Yeah, seriously though are you?"

"Why? If I'm going to be your sugar mama I might as well be your baby mama." Jungkook looked stricken and you snickered, bringing your hand up to hide your mouth. "I'm joking," you wiped your face with some wet wipes you found in the drawers.

"Not funny, was ready to fucking make a run for it."

It was your turn to look stricken as Jungkook laughed. You frowned and slapped his chest.

It goes quiet, the loud bass music now coming back to fill your ears instead of Jungkook's moans. He stood awkwardly near the corner while you threw away the wipes you used to remove your makeup. Running your fingers through your hair, you turned towards him.

"So, does this mean that you're going to give me a chance?" the man in front of you standing like an anime character asked, as if he wasn't calling you degrading names a few minutes ago.

You smiled at him and lunged forward to kiss him. "Yes, I'll give you a chance Jungkook."

↳ in your heart; drabble collection

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part four

summary: friends who fool around almost never works. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: idiots, that’s all <3

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three, part four (6.7k), part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: my favorite part by mac miller, addicted by jorja smith, someone to spend time with by los retros

note: finally got myself to update this fic oml zzz quick psa tho, this will now be a six-part series! hope that’s okay and yenno as always, would love to hear what you think about this (validate me in the tags pls im lonely) happy reading babes! <3

“Yo, grandma. Haven’t you had too much tea to drink?” his voice echoes in the room as soon as he walks into it. You carefully set the cup down on the dining table and looked at him exasperatedly. 

“Haven’t you had too much care to give?” you snark back, earning yourself a disappointed look from him. 

“Really, y/n? That’s the best you’ve got?” he shakes his head at your appalling retort.  What a shame.

You were good at pissing him off to be fair. You just weren’t in the mood to throw teases back and forth especially now that you’re feeling particularly vulnerable.

The week has been far too dreadful for you and you know that you’re willing to grovel your way into the weekend to finally have the time to slack off, not worry about taking a bath, and just go crazy with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

However, just like always, Mathew seems to never run out of ways to get on your nerves. 

He carelessly puts his stuff on the table, causing a fairly loud thud on the surface. 

You let out a deep breath, massaging your temple. 

“Somebody’s cranky.” he grins. Not necessarily the kind you’d want to see from him. 

You try to ignore him for a few minutes but you can’t help noticing how his build easily took over much of the space you’ve already been occupying. You irkingly look up at him, closing the book you were reading. You meet Mat’s eyes who just innocently looked back into yours. Waiting. Possibly plotting on yet another sophisticated way to toy with you.

“You’re a child.” you roll your eyes and return to your reading. He says nothing and instead rests his chin atop his enclasped hands, continuing to bother you with his ridiculously beguiling eyes. He presses his lips together before sighing dramatically. 

“What?” you snap, finally shutting your book down as you look at him. 

“I wanna go out.” he looks up at you in an effort to make his huge physique smaller than it really was. 

“Then go out. You’re a big boy.” you breathe. 

“You just said that I’m a child.” he coos, mimicking a five-year-old’s voice. 

“Stop that.” you glare at him. Mat props himself back and laughs, “Come on. I’m bored.” 

You open your book again just as you reply in a tone that Mat’s getting used to hearing. “Boredom doesn’t give you the right to pester me, Barzal.” 

And as an exchange, he speaks in the same tone rather mockingly, “And so is that attitude, Y/L/N.” 

“Come on, y/n. Let’s go out.” he now pleads, looking up at you with what seems to be his worst impression of a ‘puppy eye’.

“Fine.” you finally concede and you see Mat’s beaming smile instantly. 

“Where’d you want to go?” you ask as you take your reading glasses off.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, obviously teasing. 

On the edge of being irritated, you say, “Are you kidding me?”

“Grandma.” he mumbles before saying, “Do you have anything you want to do? And please don’t say book hunt.”

You suppress a smile and maintain your composure. “I’m craving for pancakes right now but I also wanna drink. Go to a bar or something.”

He nods in agreement. Already stitching his game plan.

“We can do both.”  he bobs his all too fine brows.

He didn’t have a hard time getting you on board with his spontaneity. You actually haven’t gone out in a while and the thought of a possible night out doesn’t seem to be so bad of an idea.

You’ve been with Mat to parties and while the two of you don’t mingle as much as the other guys did, he does know his way around the club. The dance floor, however, he tries. He really does.

For about an hour Mathew waited patiently in the living room as he scrolled endlessly on instagram liking a few photos and laughing at posts the fans tag him occasionally. His eyes were peeled away from the screen when he heard the door to your room click. His irises trail onto your body even if he didn’t plan to originally. 

Mathew, albeit dressed simply in his black turtleneck sweater and a beige overcoat exudes just about the right ‘swag’ (as per how he puts it) to stop you in your stupor. Although what you didn’t know was how you weren’t any different in his eyes. You were dressed quite nicely in a black lace bodysuit with a pair of blackpants accentuated by the black boots you usually wear on a night out. Your coat was slung on your forearm whilst you held your clutch purse in your hand so you could close the door with the other. 

“What?” you blink just as you look down to eye yourself. Feeling a tad self-conscious under his gaze.

Mat immediately breaks it off. He clears his throat, pretending to wipe off the non-existent dust on the accent table. 

“What?” he mirrors with an arched brow.

You shrug off his demeanor, snatching your keys from the accent table before putting it in your purse. 

“Have you called a lyft already?” he nods, absentmindedly scratching his temple. 

“You ready? You look— decent.” He says, trying to act casual and distant when he gives you the compliment.

Not noticing the unfamiliar look his eyes had, you return the compliment and say,  “And so do you. Good job for not looking like you came straight out of an H&M catalogue.” you wink at him with a grin. A thing which was then reciprocated by a deadpan look on his end. 

Before he could even come up with yet another clever way to come at you, you start walking towards the door, looking at him once as you motion the way by curling your finger.

“Haul ass, buddy.”

𖥸

10:15 PM 

Mat decided to bring you to the usual place he goes to when he wants to be alone and just enjoy a couple of beers while he chats with River, the bartender he eventually befriends after years spent drinking in solitude. 

The bar had a rustic feel filled with wine barrels in the corner of the room. The seats were leather (mind you, it wasn’t the kind that gets easily worn out through time) and everything looked new to you regardless of all the vintage stuff displayed articulately on the brick wall. A turntable was set on the table stacked with vinyl records, most of which were from the 70s to 80s underneath.

It was obvious that it wasn’t the kind people would know about. Aside from it being located at such a secluded street leading to the suburbs, it wasn’t the type of bar kids would want to hang out in. It only had a few customers and most of them wore suits and came with company. No one really gave a hoot when you walked in with Mathew, aka, the face of the New York Islanders. Which is basically the reason why Mat kept coming back to the place. He felt comfortable and at peace. Almost in retrospect to being at home hanging with his father. 

“I can’t believe this place exists.” you say, mouthing your thanks to River as he hands you both of your drinks. The man that’s definitely aged like fine wine smiles, nodding his head over to Mat who was doing the same before he headed back to mix another set of drinks. 

“Me neither.” he grins, reminiscing about the time he’s found the small pub by accident. 

“This place looks expensive though.” you whisper, making Mathew laugh. 

“Well, it kinda is.” he sheepishly chuckles. “River’s filthy rich.”

“Is he really?” your mouth falls and you look back over the build of the old man. The way his salt and pepper hair was neatly slicked back makes quite a compelling case for what Mat had just said. 

Mat eventually explains who he was. Apparently, he was just another bored fancy man who happened to love making people drop dead and drunk with his over the top mixes. His dark deep set brown eyes are quite of a crowd favourite too. Case in point, the group of ladies seated from across you and Mathew.

“Hey.” you absentmindedly call on Mat who had just sipped on his drink. “I know what we should do.”

“All right.” he puts the glass down, “Lay it on me.”

“Let’s fix you up with one of the girls over there.” you suggest, leaning towards his body so you could get a better view upfront. Mat does not move and instead follows your finger subtly pointing at the other end of the room.

“What’s with the sudden fixation of getting me bagged tonight, huh?” he smirks, shaking his head at the idea of having to go home with some random girl. You give him a side eye as you move away from him. 

“Fixation is an overstatement. We’ll be here long enough for us to get sick of each other.” you explicitly told him. 

Mat eyes you intently. Searching if there was even the slightest doubt in your eyes. 

Long enough to get sick of each other. 

He clears his throat instead and looks across the room. “Which one?”

A gleeful cheer erupts from you just before you look over the girls in question. “What’s your type?” you ask him, not sparing a glance.

Mat looks down on you underneath the bar lights accentuating your features. Your eyes had a certain glint in them that Mat still can’t get a grasp on. Something that was just enough to spark something inside him. He didn’t want to overthink it nonetheless. It must have been just the lights. 

Once Mat sensed that you were about to look at him he immediately turned his gaze forward, squinting his eyes a little pretending to check out the women you’ve been eyeing for the last minute. 

“I don’t really have a type.” he shrugs, casually taking the fragile glass to his mouth. 

You dismiss what he said at once, “Do I look like a child to you? Just answer it.”

Mat shakes his head, “I told you. I don’t have one. If we vibe then we vibe. Simple as that.” 

You did not believe him but you decide to drop it off. Instead, you look back and return to your new found mission. Across the bar, seated were three girls busy talking to each other. 

“Got it.” you tell Mat, nodding your head towards the clueless girl sitting right across from where Mathew was. “The one in the center.” you add. “The one wearing a white bodycon.”

“She’s pretty.” he nods, validating your taste as his potential wingman. “Nice smile.”

Your hand met a firm slap on the table as you went on cheering for him. “Well? Go then!” you give him a nudge, taking it back quickly when you feel a slight hesitation on his part, “Don’t tell me you need me to introduce you?”

He takes the remainder of his glass and shaked off the kick it had in his throat. “You just sit and watch, babe.”

You do as you’re told and lean towards the bar, your elbow carrying all your weight whilst you sip on your half-full martini. 

Mathew’s stance and the way he carries himself immediately caused the girls to notice him coming. Of course, you weren’t really surprised. You watch him approach her,– reading along the words leaving his mouth. There was an exchange of proper ‘hello’s’ as Mat introduced himself to the girls. He reaches out his hand and the curly noirette in the center gives him a firm shake. 

Mat’s eyes momentarily locked with yours just as you see their hands linger in the air— tangled long enough for him to make a quick segway. He winks your way as he sees you grin from your seat, shaking your head just after you felt the need to take a deep breath. A thing you assumed to be because of the drink. So, while Mat leads the girl to one of the empty booths and sits across from her, you call on River and ask for another drink. 

Mathew must have lost track of time by the second drink he shared with Zoe. He learns that she’s from upstate and was just on the island to visit her friends. She’s still working on her major at NYU; coincidentally in the same field as Lianna so that was one of the things they’ve talked about first hand. She wasn’t really into sports so Mat steered clear of his job because he didn’t want to bore her. 

“So…” Zoe smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. “What’s the deal with you and the girl you’re with?” 

By the time she asked about you, only then did Mat remember who he was originally with. 

“Oh! She’s—” he looks over to where you’re seated only to find you laughing— no giggling with a man that was obviously a few years older than you. He’s wearing a neat black suit and a button down shirt with a couple of its first buttons opened. Zoe sees him frown, evidently losing his train of thought. 

She calls him with her sweet voice, “Mat?” 

“Yeah?” he absentmindedly answers, not wanting to take his eyes off of your hand that was now gently pushing the man’s arm whilst the two of you continue to burst into laughter. 

“Are you okay?” she asks.

What’s so funny? 

Finally, Mat hears Zoe’s distant voice that eventually took him back to his seat.

“Oh. Y-Yeah.” he apologetically smiles. “Sorry. What were you saying again?” 

She hesitates to ask about you after taking a quick glance your way upon seeing the way Mathew looked at you. Nevertheless, she decides to go for it.

“Aren’t you two together? I don’t want to come off strong here or anything. It’s just that I don’t want to get in between something if there ever is.” 

Mat looks at you one more time and as if you’ve felt his eyes all along you turn your way and meet his gaze. You shoot him a quiet smile, eyeing the guy sitting beside you, mouthing what he assumes to be an exaggerated “So hot!” on your end. He reciprocates your smile and gives you an approving nod.

Once you looked away, that’s the only time Mat finally answered the woman waiting patiently for his attention. 

“What?” Mat shakes his head wildly, blowing out air off his lips defensively. “No no no. We’re just friends. She’s my roommate actually.” he shrugs you off his mind and instead tries to put his entire focus on her. 

The remaining hours were spent with you and Mat getting along with your respective potential hook-ups. Not that it wasn’t the endgame either of you were hoping for at the back of your minds. 

He’s got to admit that Zoe was the kind of girl he’d be interested in. Another fact he’s kept a mental tab not to mention to you because he knows you’ll just get cocky. 

She was sweet and obviously eloquent. He knows she’s way smarter than he’ll ever be. But out of all those qualities, she was just as passionate at her craft as someone he likes to think he knows well enough. And that alone made a small smile creep on his lips. 

Nonetheless, despite all the aforementioned, Mathew found himself a bit more reserved than he usually is whenever he gets to meet and talk to his potential ‘lady friends’ as how you’ve put it countless times. He just wasn’t his exact self.  And he was beginning to question it. 

There were no fancy hockey plays thrown subtly into the conversation. Neither mentions of golfing nor over the top league events.  No butchered french pet names swiftly tucked in his sentences. And no endless questions that would eventually lead to something along the lines of ‘Do you want to get out of here?’

Well, not until Zoe’s friends got up their seats and she told him herself. 

“Hey. The girls and I are meeting up with some friends in Brooklyn. D’ya wanna come?” 

Mat’s eyes trail down to her hand now gently caressing his. He raises both his brows thinking of a possible ‘out’ because he wasn’t sure if it was a smart thing to leave you alone with a stranger. 

He hums, “Sure.” 

Zoe shows him a delighted smile before eventually sliding out of the booth to walk towards the bar she and her friends were formally seated. 

“I gotta use the restroom first. Please excuse me.” she gives him a nod before going back to chatting with her friends. 

You, on the other hand, see Mat leave the table aiming for an archway you presume to be where the loo was. 

“Hey,” you call the man whose name you’ve already forgotten. Your pause was long enough for him to acknowledge the chances that you actually did forget who he was. Obviously.

“Chris.” The man in his early 30s answers with a submitting grin. 

You shyly laugh, squeezing his forearm as you try to apologize for forgetting. 

“Would you mind if I use the restroom?” you politely ask. 

“No, not at all.” he replies and immediately stands to help you get on your feet. Gentleman. 

Once you are in front of the men’s room, you anxiously wait for your wingman. You hug your purse close to your chest. Not a whole minute after, the door finally opens and you meet Mat’s irises with quite a gleeful look. 

A look he wasn’t a fan of for he knew what’s about to come next. 

“Are you taking off?” you eagerly ask, almost hopping on your feet. 

Mat eyes you from head to toe, looking for signs that would stink from a drunk y/n. When he sees none, that’s when he decides to say that he was. 

“Mkay good. I’ll be on my way too. Chris is taking me to New Jersey.” you tell him, briefly looking through the archway to see if there were people listening.

Once you know you’re clear, you lean towards Mat, your lips dangerously close to the sensitive skin of his ear. Mat feels your heated breath sending a familiar tingle up his spine. “I’ll get to ride a yacht tonight.” you bite your lower lip and giddily smile as if you were a cheeky 16 year-old usually depicted in a coming of age movie. 

“Who’s Chris?” Mat, in spite of taking rounds observing you all night, finds the need to ask. “And why are you coming with him to NJ?” he further questions. 

“Uh– okay, dad.” you step back for a second. You let out a scoff, checking if he was being serious about it. “I thought we’re supposed to go get laid tonight? Weren’t you about to take off with that girl yourself?” 

Mat averts your gaze and starts to scratch the corner of his brow. “Well yeah. It’s just that— he looks sketchy.” he pauses, “plus… isn’t he a little too old for you?” 

You roll your eyes as you’ve already expected to hear the words from him. 

“He’s 31. He’s not that old.” you say rather defensively so you turn the ball back on his court. “And what if he was?  Didn’t you ask one of the moms out??”

Mat’s eyes widens and you try to bite back a laugh. He whispers with a biting tone, trying to save himself. “She didn’t look like one! I’m gonna kill Beau I swear to god.”

“Come on Barz. Don’t be such a killjoy. Text me if you need anything, okay? Wrap things up while you’re at it.” you say at once. Mat doesn’t get the chance to talk you out of such a stupid idea because before he even could, you’ve already planted a kiss on his cheek and started walking away. 

Mat waited for the sound of the heavy doors of the bar, signaling that you and your friend have gone, before stepping back to where Zoe was. She waves him near the coat closet. 

“Hi.” Mat greets her friends before eventually turning his attention on the unsuspecting lass. She meets her with a smile (just like what she’s been doing all night). The same smile, however, drops the second Mat opens his mouth. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” 

Zoe nods and willfully abides, letting Mat take her gently by the arm. 

“What’s up?” she innocently asks. 

“Something came up.” he says a little too fast than what he’d originally intended. He was going to let her down either way might as well get it over with and rip up the asshole band-aid. 

“Oh.” she says in a tone Mat knew that she completely understood. 

“No worries.” she looks at him with a knowing look in her eyes. “I’ll see you around then.” 

He gives her a kind smile and nods. “Take care.” 

Mathew walks towards the bar, catching River’s teasing grin whilst he cleans up after the bottles left on the center of the counter. 

“What?” Mat reacts defensively, taking a seat in front of the lone bartender. River faintly shakes his head to leave just enough curiosity in Mathew’s mind. 

“You’re such a tool, old man.” the kid says aiming for the cold beer River has put away for himself. River did not mind because he’s grown fond of the star player for the past years he’s spent going on late night drinks at his bar. Years that even justifies a proper amount of time for him to know the in’s and out’s of one Mathew Barzal. 

“I haven’t said a thing.” he shrugs amidst the already wide grin on his face. 

There’s wisdom in his eyes that Mathew has always admired. He wasn’t the guy who’d want to talk about what’s going on inside his head but with how River’s pub seems to be just the right place, he eventually concedes and takes a shot to pick on the old man’s brain.

“Come on, spill it out. I know you’re going to anyway.” Mat gives in, running his thumb on the moist label of the bottle. 

River wipes his hands before resting it atop the counter. “Well, it’s just that– I ain’t used to seeing you turn down ladies like that too often. And you’re definitely not one to stick around watching me clean up.”

Mat stays silent for a moment, as if to gather the exact reason as to why he chose to stay. He still has a long way to go before figuring that one out. He wasn’t exactly as sharp as he was on the ice.

“I don’t know, man.” he chuckles tirelessly, “I guess I wasn’t in the mood. That’s all.”

“You?” River shots a brow and dismisses him, shaking his head. When Mat doesn’t answer, he carefully picks on his choice of words and lays it down carefully for him. After all, Mathew should have known that River was old enough to not know what’s going on.

“Though I gotta be honest with you, hijo. Never imagined you’d bring someone here.” he starts. 

What must have been a shot in the dark for the old man was just enough to tear Mathew’s eyes away from staring at the water beads on the bottle.

“What?”

“The girl, Barz.” he says, banging on the head of the bottle to knock the cap off. “She a friend?” 

“What? Y/N?” Mat quirks his brows trailing off where River was exactly headed, “What about her?— Oh, her? Yeah, no. She’s just a friend.”

“She pretty.” he speaks in a sound accent, not wanting to let Mat know he’s growing to like catching the young lad off guard. Mathew nods casually despite the continuous blabbering. “She’s y/n. But yeah— I guess, she is pretty.” 

“Then what are you doing being just friends with a pretty girl?” River inquires, taking a sip of his beer. When he sees him trying to register what he’d just said he then adds, “Why not be with her? Date her?”

“Psh. What? Date y/n? That’s crazy.” Mat shakes his head furiously, “You’re crazy.” 

“What’s so crazy about that?” River takes offense, laughing at the child’s naivete. 

“I can’t date her. I mean— I won’t date her.” he takes the bottle to his mouth, taking a large gulp before continuing, “We’re in this weird relationship thing. A setup, actually, and it’s— it’s crazier than dating her. I swear, you of all people won’t get it.” 

“What makes you think I can’t?” he smirks, “I’ve had my fair share of crazy.” River points out despite the hesitation in Mat’s eyes. “I got all night, kid.” he adds, letting him have the floor to himself. 

“You really want in on this?” he second guesses, not wanting to bore the man with his personal life.

River leans against the brass counter just below the lit rack of vintage scotch displayed on the bar. He then gestures him to give a piece of his mind and Mat finally submits to his offer.

“We’ve been in a few… prior engagements,” he starts trying to find the appropriate word. “Well, sort of.”

River hums, not necessarily getting on the same page as him so he decides to be upfront about it.

“We’ve… slept together.” he confesses.

“So you used to date her?” the old man asks. 

“No.” he answers, “I told you we’re just friends.” 

With furrowed brows, River takes a minute. And once Mat hears an all too familiar “Oh.” he sees him break a chuckle, shaking his head at the thought of what Mat had just told him. “You kids have way too much fun these days.”

Mathew shrugs, “Hey, I warned you. Told you you wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay, make me understand something here. You two sleep together, fool around, do all that shit.” he says, “and you swear you’re not in a relationship?”

“Nope.” Mat answers with pride, popping out the word with a hard ‘p’.

“Huh.” River clicks his tongue, “How long have you two been… engaged?” 

He rolls his eyes when River uses his word, “About two months.” he answers shortly.

“Is she seeing anyone since you two started this thing? You know, casual dates, the ones I presume she’s been getting before you got her into this mess?” he asks him in a tone that only fathers would ever dare to use.

Mat thinks for a moment, trying to recall the last time he’s seen a guy pick you up for dinner besides the old man you’ve successfully bagged for the night. He firmly shakes his head no and simply says, “At least not in my recollection.”

River willfully nods, walking Mat right into the trap. “Well have you been seeing anyone lately?” he asks again, this time slipping a hint of assertion. He hears a crystal clear ‘no’ from the forward and that’s when he broke a goading grin. 

“And you’re telling me you two aren’t together?” he asks yet again, getting on Mat's nerves as he continues to flood him with biting queries, building up the final point he was about to break on Mathew.

“Rivs, for the hundredth time, no. We are not.” he clarifies. 

Mat watches River pour himself a glass of scotch, still wearing a smug grin. “Imma give you a piece of advice, yeah?” he smiles rather teasingly and doesn’t wait for Mat to rebut, “I’m a happily married man so I don’t know a single squat about dating nowadays, but if you’re telling me that you kids aren’t sleeping with anyone else but yourselves? Looks like a damn relationship to me.”

With his brows all quirked in confusion (and denial in the very least), Mathew gathers all his might just so he could refute whatever madness River was trying to inflict on him and screw him up in the head. But before he could even open his mouth, the sound of the heavy doors was all it took to tear up both River’s and Mat’s attention.

“Hi.” you say the moment you were welcomed by unsuspecting men talking by the bar. River acknowledges you by raising his drink, his gaze landing on Mat the moment yours did. 

“Hi.” Mathew mirrors you in an attempt to drown his already racing heart. A smile impending to break loose at any moment but he manages to suppress it. Instead of dealing with his adrenaline, he gestures for you to take a seat beside him. 

“Where’s the sugar daddy?” he laughs the moment you drag yourself from across the room, mocking every word he said. 

“His wife called when I got into his car.” you cringe.

“Oof. Lovely.” Mat makes the distinct expression on his face just before the two of you share a laugh.

“He’s not very smooth with adultery. He needs more practice.” you casually state sarcastically, clicking your tongue. 

As you find the narrative funny, you take a sip on Mathew’s beer. “How are you not drunk? You’ve been drinking way too much the entire night.”

“Well. I’ve got some things to think about—” he cuts himself off upon seeing your mouth ajar, “And no, you’re not allowed to ask because none of it concerns you.” 

“I wasn’t going to.” you dismiss him, excusing yourself to River which he gladly took as his cue to leave.

When he disappeared into the kitchen, you turned your gaze on your friend wearing another one of your mischievous grins, “Hey, wanna get pancakes?” 

“Y/N, it’s almost 3 AM.” Mat sighs, the tiring night starting to creep up to him. 

“So?” you question, swatting his hand away when you catch him checking on his watch. 

“Come on. Stop drinking that.” you insist and take the bottle from his hand before putting it over to the side. 

The two of you said your goodbyes to the lone bartender who was just starting to clean up again. River gives the two of you a nod of acknowledgement before landing a knowing look on Mathew. One that he’s thankful enough not to be discerned by you. 

As you walk alongside Mathew, he unconsciously places a hand on the small of your back— feeling it graze on the fabric of your coat as if to guide you towards the door in an almost romantic type of way. Perhaps, a way someone would behave if they were actually in a relationship. 

Mat notices your body tense but he doesn’t move an inch. Instead, his hand travels to the curve of your waist just as he leads you through the brass doors.

Once you’re out on the streets, he lets go.

𖥸

After almost half an hour of fighting over which diner is better to eat and get sober at, you and Mat decide to just try the new diner three blocks from your apartment. Being that it was an ungodly hour, the diner was good as closed when you got in. There were a few people inside and besides the student studying alone in the corner booth, the people lounging in the vacant seats were mostly just staff. Too bad they had to work the grave shift.

Mathew, who was rather preoccupied digging in his breakfast platter, gets interrupted when you call his attention. 

“So tell me,” you ask as you take a forkful of syrupy pancake into your mouth. Finally satisfying your cravings. You put the food modestly in the insides of your cheeks when you ask him a question, “What are you like on dates?” 

Mat disgustingly looks at you. You easily get what such a look meant and you immediately roll your eyes. You let your hand fall in mid-air amidst still holding a fork in it to prove a point. “I’m not trying to ask you out, dumbass. Don’t be so delusional.”

He puts his silverware down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Why the sudden interest?” 

“Just curious.” you simply say.

He hums, thinking about how he pulls off a first date. He then clears his throat as he takes you down that road. “First, I’m not bringing her to a 24/7 Diner.” you nearly gag. “She deserves a formal one just in case there won’t be a second date.” he explains. 

You sit there, nodding your head every now and then as he further goes on the details of how he’s like on a date. “Of course, I’d put my best foot forward all the time. Talk about her stuff more than mine and make sure she has a good time.” 

“Have you ever had a bad first date?” you curiously ask. To which he only answers with a stubborn look on his face, the one only Mat Barzal could pull off. “What? me? I don’t do bad first dates.”

“Oh, fuck off.” you flick his forehead as you laugh. The sound of his laughter echoing in your ears, drowning all the existing noise inside the lone diner.

But as the laughter dies down, Mat catches your eyes as soon as it falls on his. And just like that, there it was again, the exact same glint it had back in the bar. This time, illuminated by the pink shaded light lining up the wall accents of the diner. 

When he realizes that he’s been staring for too long, he settles on turning the tables on you. 

“How about you?” he props in his seat, “What are you like on dates?”

“You know, apart from the fact that you’re obviously into old men.” he snickers and you throw a curly fry on his forehead.

“Excuse me, I don’t.” you say sticking up for yourself.

Mat takes the curly fry that has fallen on his plate and proceeds to eat it. “Sure you do.” 

You roll your eyes, finding it hard to suppress the fact that you might actually do. “There’s a reason why women like old men, chico.”

He leans back and answers with a level headed and quite teasing reply, “And why’s that?”

“Because they’re men.” you look at him with a jerky grin as you continue, “And men, especially of River’s kind, definitely knows how to eat his french fry.”

Mat’s mouth falls wide in disbelief, appalled that you’ve actually found a way to pick up a stone and throw it straight to his face just to rub more salt on the fact that you had to teach a 23-year-old grown man how to eat cunt.

 “You’re an ass.” he says, rolling his eyes. You let out a laugh and shake your head. You were proud of yourself, sure; but showing just that is far too much for a boy’s already hurting ego. Who would have known humbling this man was such a task. 

“I’m playing! You know how to now.” you tell him, “Thanks to me, of course.”

He scoffs and takes a bite off his pancakes, “Cocky.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question.” he reminds you whilst he wipes off his lips with a napkin. 

“There’s not much to tell. You know I’m not high maintenance.” you tell him, ignoring the fact that you haven’t been on an actual date for so long you’re almost sure you’ve forgotten how to be in one. 

“I know it’s cheesy and corny but I do think it’s still in the littlest things, you know?” you sigh. Trying to remember the last relationship (date even) you had wherein those little things, the ones that are merely the bare minimum, were actually given to you. 

“You know, it’s not much, really. Maybe just a good talk without having to watch him watch me talk all night when he’s really thinking about how I’d look naked, you know what I mean?” you laugh it off, “I know, it’s stupid.”

The arrogant man sitting before you was silent for once, profusely wanting to wash the pool of melancholy he sees in your eyes. There must have been a shit ton of guys who overlooked how great of a woman you actually are just because they couldn’t stop thinking with the head in between their legs even just for a second. 

Mathew knows. And he hates that he’s been ‘that’ guy at some point. Probably until now considering him thinking with his balls on was the very thing that got the two of you here in the first place.

You take a deep breath, smiling. “Anyway, that’s better than almost getting with a married man. Right?”

“Right.” Mat laughs, his gray eyes bright under all the lights as he plays with his silverware,— devoid of how much he looked like as if he was utterly and undeniably in awe of not just the energy of the woman sitting in front of him alone nor the fact that she was by far the most unbelievable woman he’s known, but most importantly, he’s yet to realize how much in deep he’s beginning to be for the woman she actually were. 

Just as she is. 

𖥸

You left the diner a good hour before the sunrise and what must have been a quick five minute drive if you had only taken a cab, became a twenty minute foot race between you and Mathew.

You knew that walking was a bad idea but somehow, Mat’s charm and persuasive antics had a better hold than you thought you had on your very capable cognition. 

As you drag your feet into the confines of the elevator in your complex, you hear Mathew chuckling behind you with a firm hand securely placed on your waist supporting your balance. 

“You know— and not just ‘cause I’m an athlete, can I just say that you’re in a very bad shape?” he says almost a whisper in your ear, his voice low and deep.

You roll your eyes, leaning on the steel cold mirror once he pulls away, “You do it in heels then tell me who’s in a bad shape.” 

“Fair point.” he chuckles yet again, shying away. He presses the number for your floor before resting across from you. As Mat watches you catch your breath, he jokes in the hopes of breaking the ice between the two of you. 

“So…” he clicks his tongue, playful eyes looking at you, “Wanna tap?”

Disgusted to your very core, you let out a scoff just as you shake your head. “You’re fucking sick.” you laugh upon meeting his dumb grinning face. Seconds into laughter, Mat’s silence kills off the humor. The two of you exchange glances, the smiles on your faces receding into quietude. 

Mathew didn’t want to end the night letting you in the apartment not knowing what he’s been feeling the moment you’ve let him drag you out for an impromptu night out. And stupid as it was, the only thing he could think of was to slide his foot across the enclosed space embracing the two of you, nudging on your boot. You on the one hand were rather puzzled as to what caused such language. You send him a mental query by arching a brow. He lets his head fall back on the cold metal surrounding the elevator finally deciding to speak his truth.

 “I’m glad we get to hang out now. You know, just like friends do.” he genuinely says. 

“Me too.” you say, smiling. “I really had fun tonight. Thank you.”

As you meet his eyes, you see a glimmer of softness in his gaze. 

“Good thing I got bored, eh?” he says with a smirk. 

“Good thing I came back for you.” you reply.

A quiet smile parts from his lips.

“Yeah. I’m glad you did.”

It was a few seconds when you and Barzy parted from your respective walls to meet the sliding doors as it opened on your designated floor. You were pulling him closer by the tie of his coat whilst his hand was instinctively placed on your hips letting him press his body on you. Your faces were inches from each other’s, evident of not wanting to prolong the totally unplanned foreplay that’s about to go down in a communal lift. 

But just like every film you’ve watched your whole life, the inevitable cliché befalls the two of you when the next words that filled the enclosed walls you’re currently caged in came from the man who has yet to miss a morning jog. 

“What the hell is going on here?”

[ve1vetyoongi]

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 21k

Summary:  Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.

Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).

Rating: Mature.

A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!

Prelude.

You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.

Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.

It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.

It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.

The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.

Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.

You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.

So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.

You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.

Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.

Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.

The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.

From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.

Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.

There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.

Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.

And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.

You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.

You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.

It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.

Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?

So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.

Where it begins

"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"

You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.

With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.

You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.

You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.

Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.

The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.

You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.

"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"

Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.

You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.

For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.

Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.

Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.

You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.

"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."

Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.

"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"

You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.

"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.

"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"

Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.

His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."

Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.

"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"

Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."

You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.

"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."

You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.

"And you know you can just use the front door right?"

You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.

"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.

"You're an idiot."

You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."

"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"

You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."

"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."

You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."

"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."

"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."

"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."

"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."

"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"

And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.

The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.

You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"

You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.

From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.

A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.

The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.

It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.

The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.

Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.

It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.

But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?

"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."

That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.

She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.

It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.

If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.

Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...

"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."

And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.

The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.

Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.

"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"

Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?

Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.

"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.

"I can't do this."

The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.

The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.

The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.

The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.

Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.

"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."

The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.

He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.

The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."

Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"

"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."

Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.

"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."

"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.

"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."

It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.

Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.

"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.

You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.

"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."

Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"

You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.

"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"

You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?

"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."

"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."

You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."

"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."

It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?

"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."

Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."

"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"

"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.

"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."

"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."

Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."

"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."

"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."

Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.

"You still are a star."

The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.

"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.

"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.

"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.

Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.

"This is..."

"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"

"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."

You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"How?"

He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."

You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."

"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."

"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.

It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?

"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"

He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.

"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."

You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"

"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.

"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.

You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.

"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.

"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"

"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"

Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.

"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"

"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."

"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"

"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."

"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."

You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.

"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."

He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.

"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.

"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."

You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"

You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"

"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"

"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."

"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."

You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.

"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."

You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.

"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."

The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?

"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"

The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.

Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.

"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.

"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"

"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"

"Oh come on! Just try it."

"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.

"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.

"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"

"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"

Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate

"That's it. Feel the music!"

Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.

"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."

"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.

"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."

The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.

"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.

Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.

He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"

You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?

Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.

"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."

"Good."

You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.

Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.

But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.

"Now, open."

The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.

Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.

The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.

You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.

Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.

"Jungkook, this place is—"

"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."

"How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."

"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."

Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."

"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"

"The sunflowers?"

"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."

You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"

There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.

"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.

"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."

"Do what?"

"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"

"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."

"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"

"Did not!"

"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"

"Shut up."

"See! You're doing it right now!"

You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."

The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.

When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.

"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."

"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."

Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.

"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.

"Jungkook stop."

"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"

"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."

"Just pretend I'm not here."

You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."

"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."

"Jungkook--"

"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."

"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.

"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"

"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."

Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.

"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"

You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.

"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"

An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.

Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.

"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."

"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."

"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.

"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."

"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"

"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.

"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."

You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.

"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.

"Actually...there's something I should tell you."

He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"

"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."

"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"

"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."

You pale. "M-me?"

"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."

He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.

"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.

"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."

And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.

This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.

"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.

"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?

"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."

"I...I can't."

"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"

"No! God no."

"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"

"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"

"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"

"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."

Where things change.

3 years later.

A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.

— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)

With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.

Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.

There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.

You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.

Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.

Jungkook.

You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.

His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.

It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.

"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."

"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"

"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."

A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.

"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"

"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"

Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.

"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.

"Not now. Later."

"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."

"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."

Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.

Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.

That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.

He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.

You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.

It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.

Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.

"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."

Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"

"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.

"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.

He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"

"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!

"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."

You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.

"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."

"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.

"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."

Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.

You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.

He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.

When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.

"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"

His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."

"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"

"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.

His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."

With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.

"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.

Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."

A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.

"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"

"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.

"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.

"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"

"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.

"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.

"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.

It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"

"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.

"Let's see if you can make me do that again."

"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.

"Eager?" You smirk.

"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."

"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.

"Your wish is my command."

When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.

"I love you, y'know."

You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.

"As I'll ever be."

And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.

Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.

It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.

Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.

"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.

When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.

"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.

"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"

"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.

The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.

"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"

He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.

After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.

But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.

It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.

"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."

"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.

Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.

"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".

"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."

"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"

"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"

You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."

"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"

You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."

"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."

"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.

"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.

"What the heck?"

You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.

"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."

The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."

"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.

"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.

Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?

"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"

"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.

"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.

"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."

"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."

Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.

A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.

"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."

"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.

"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."

"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.

Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."

Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.

The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"

"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"

"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"

"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"

You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."

"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."

Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.

"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"

You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."

Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."

Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"

"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.

Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.

"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.

"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.

YOU: Taehyung??? YOU: [CALL IGNORED] YOU: please Tae YOU: can we at least talk about this? YOU: we're worried about you

It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.

You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."

A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?

The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.

It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.

Confident, strong, successful.

Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.

Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.

This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.

"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.

"Y/N, I found him."

"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"

"He's not coming."

"What?"

Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.

"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"

Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"

Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."

"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.

"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."

Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"

"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.

"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."

"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."

"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."

"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."

"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."

"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."

Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.

"I...I can't."

"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"

"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.

"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"

Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.

Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.

The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.

Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.

Show starting in 5...

Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.

4...

Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?

3...

Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.

It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.

Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.

Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.

Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.

I believe in you.

Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.

He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.

Taehyung.

Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.

You can do this.

And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage

You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.

And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.

Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.

Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!

"Hey! Be careful!"

The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.

"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."

"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."

"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."

You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.

Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.

Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"

"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."

Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"

"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."

You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.

The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.

"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."

"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.

"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"

"For mom."

Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.

Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.

With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.

To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.

You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.

You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.

But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.

So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.

But he's late. Again.

And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.

"Y/N?"

A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.

"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.

Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.

"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.

"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."

"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"

"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."

You can't hide the way your face drops.

"Please." You whisper. "For me?"

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.

"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.

"Pasta."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.

You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.

"There's something I need to tell you."

His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.

"Should I be worried?"

"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon​ !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol! 

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland​ because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

[snickerl]

Of Miracle Births and Other Wonders

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

The lady behind the reception desk sends Mulder and the two kids up to the fourth floor of the hospital. They find another reception area with another helpful nurse. She tells them a doctor will be with them very soon to give them an update on Scully's condition. The few minutes they have to wait tears every nerve in Mulder's body, putting his patience to a hard test. Then, to his great relief, a good-looking woman in her late thirties approaches them. "Hello Mr. Scully, my name is Dr. Hanson, I am taking care of your wife," she says, holding her hand out to shake his.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor, but my name is Mulder. These are our children, Emily and William," Mulder says, nudging them both in front of him. "How is Scully? I mean, my wife? How is she?"

"Hello everybody," the doctor says good-naturedly. "Your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Mulder. She is doing great with her breathing technique. Her cervix is at 5 centimeters, so we still have some way to go. The baby is in good shape, she is in good shape, so we believe we will have a smooth delivery in a couple of hours. Are you all coming to the delivery room?"

William is aghast, his eyes saucer-wide. "What? Ew, no way! Gross!" He shakes his head vehemently. "Never ever!"

Mulder looks at his daughter. "Em?"

Emily thinks for a moment but quickly decides against it. The thought of seeing her mother in pain, even if it was for a good cause, makes her uncomfortable. "I'd rather stay with Will. We don't want him sitting here all by himself," she says.

"I don't need a sitter," William snaps, "I'm not a baby."

"But you definitely behave like one," Emily fires back. "Now shut up and be nice so dad can look after mom and doesn't have to worry about us at each other's throats out here."

"Alright," Doctor Hanson says. "The waiting area is over there. There are magazines and a vending machine. If you need anything, ask the nurse at reception. Follow me, Mr. Scully...I mean Mr. Mulder, sorry...your wife will be happy to see you." She leads the way to the delivery room. Mulder presses a kiss on Emily's hair and waves at William who has already plummeted into a chair. "Okay, kids. See you later then," he says and hurries to follow the doctor.

"Say hello to mom from us," Emily shouts after him, "and good luck!" She looks after her father who disappears through a swinging door marked Deliveries, then trots toward the waiting area to join her brother. She places herself in a chair next to him, looks around, gets up again to leaf through a pile of magazines on one of the tables, finds nothing of interest, goes back to her chair, and lets herself fall onto it with a sigh.

"You could've gone with dad, if you wanted," William tells her without looking up from his phone.

"Nah, I'm good."

Both sit in silence for a while. William is totally absorbed in a game on his smartphone, Emily pulls a history book and some pencils out of her backpack and starts reading, writing notes on the pages in different colors here and there. William shakes his head when he sees her doing that. "That's so old school, sis."

"Well, it's good for me. This way, the information stays longer in my brain than when I read it on a screen. You may call it old school, bro, I call it efficient mnemonics."

"Whatever," he sighs, his eyes back on the screen.

"Hey, what you said in the car, that mom doesn't care about us anymore, what did you mean by that?"

"I meant what I said, whatever the baby needs comes first, and we will play second fiddle. Or maybe even third. But I don't care. If things get unbearable, I will ask to go to boarding school. They can play house with the new baby then and I won't be there to bother anyone with my presence."

"You're being ridiculous, Will. Mom and dad will never let you go to boarding school, and I can't believe it will be anything like you just said."

William only shrugs. The narrative in his head has solidified like concrete, and he can't imagine a worse place to be right now. The best he can do is immerse himself in this online game and forget about what is happening at the other side of the door his father vanished through. After some hours of playing (thank God he brought his charger) and a short nap with his head leaned back against the wall, his stomach grumbles. "Are you also hungry, Em?"

"Well, I could have a snack. How long have we been waiting?"

"We came here at 10:45 am, now it's almost 6," William tells her, looking at the big clock on the wall of the waiting area.

"Wow, seven hours already. Poor mom. I wonder why dad hasn't given us an update."

"Do you think something is going wrong and he doesn't want to tell us?" William says, his voice trembling a bit.

"I don't think so."

"It's not so unlikely at mom's age."

"And how do you know?"

"I read stuff."

"You read stuff. Where?" Emily has problems picturing her brother behind a pregnancy textbook.

"On the internet, where else? If you google 'late motherhood' you get thousands of hits. And they all tell you women should have babies in their twenties and thirties, not their fifties. There is a reason for that. Nature doesn't want you to have a baby when you're old."

"Mom's not old."

"For having babies she is. She should be a grandmother rather than giving birth."

"Well, if she was a grandmother, I would already have a baby," Emily points out pensively, then adds a determined, "no thanks!"

"I just can't believe they let this happen."

"Let what happen?"

"Getting mom pregnant. Why? How?"

"Well, I can tell you how..."

"Ew, don't!" William imitates a gagging sound. "But why?"

"I guess it just happened."

"There are ways to prevent getting pregnant, I hope you are aware of that, unlike our parents apparently. I don't want to be an uncle on top of this any time soon. How could they have been so dumb? I don't get it. For all the times mom lectured us about condoms and safe sex, she didn't follow her own words." He shakes his head showing his disapproval and lack of understanding quite clearly. "I will never have sex, that's for sure."

Emily gives a slight chuckle. At fourteen, her brother most certainly doesn't have any idea of the joy of it. When he gets older and starts fancying girls, he might rethink his attitude, but something else is hitting her the longer their conversation goes. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"Well, what else was I to do? It has been the main topic in our house for the longest time. I guess, sometimes they even forgot I was still living there."

"Bullshit."

William is done explaining his thoughts. His sister obviously isn't getting the point either, just like his parents. "Now are we getting something to eat, or what?"

"You hangry?" Emily asks with a smirk and he is glad she has taken the bait and they changed the topic.

"After seven hours of wasting my time in this stuffy waiting room, I think I am allowed to have a bite to eat. Do you have change for the machine?" The boy is inwardly fuming at his father for once again neglecting him by not giving him money for food.

Big sister overtakes Em again, "I am definitely getting us something more nutritious. There has to be a cafeteria somewhere with sandwiches and a drink with less sugar than what I see in that machine." The idea of having to deal with a cranky brother on a sugar-high isn't very appealing. She gets up from the chair, her mind set on improving her brother's mood with a tasty snack. Plus, the hunt for food will give her something to do instead of mulling over what her mother is enduring at this very moment in the delivery room. "Text me, if you hear something," she tells her brother before she leaves him alone.

He tries to distract himself with the game again, but his thoughts keep going back to six months ago when his world turned upside down. The situation was surreal. His parents had prepared one of their usual Sunday family dinners, Emily had come to join, and with the dessert they served them the news of the pregnancy. His sister's piercing shriek of surprised joy hurt his eardrums and he almost choked on the pie he had in his mouth. His mother annoyed him with science book citations about the finer points of late motherhood and male ongoing virility that made him want to cover his ears entirely and yell 'too much information' at her. The worst was his dad though. The puppy eyes with which he was looking at his mom and the silly petting of her still flat stomach caused a severe tickling in William's throat. To this very day, he hadn't gotten past the shock. He shakes his head to make the unpleasant memories disappear.

And then, of course, what had to happen happens: Emily is gone for about fifteen minutes when Mulder appears in the waiting area with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. "Waiting time is over, the baby's here! It's a girl! A healthy, beautiful little girl," he announces, his voice full of pride and also relief. He looks around, surprised to find William alone. "Where is your sister?"

"Getting us a snack. Is mom alright?"

"She is. She did great. I am so amazed by that woman." Mulder's whole face lights up. "She sent me to get you guys. When will Em be back?"

"I don't know. She's been gone for about 20 minutes now, it shouldn't take her much longer. I mean only if she hasn't met a cute guy she needed to get into a conversation with." William rolls his eyes so hard he sees the back of his head, his voice high-pitched on 'cute guy'.

Mulder is still so high on adrenaline that he doesn't chime in, although he too has been annoyed more than once by his daughter's tardiness, and the reason has often enough been a 'cute guy'. "Okay, gotta go back to Scully, I don't want to leave her and the baby alone for too long," he says. He points toward a long gray hallway with several doors on each side. "We're in room 302 over there on the right. As soon as Em gets back, come and join us. Mom is waiting for you guys."

"But dad," William laments in vain, his father is already around the corner. "Great," he mumbles to himself. First, they drag him out here and make him wait endless hours in an uncomfortable chair only to be here when the baby is born, and now that it is born, they don't have a problem with him standing around for God knows how long until his tardy sister is back. Typical. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, types in 'get here asap', his fingers flying over the screen, and slams the send button.

Impatience gets the better of him soon. There is no more sitting in the chair and playing online games for him now, he is pacing the waiting area, glad that nobody else is there to see him in this state. If Emily isn't back soon, he'll explode, he thinks, but it takes another 20 minutes until he sees her leisurely strolling down the hallway. He sighs in relief when she finally stands in front of him, a cardboard tray in one hand filled with two drinks and something to eat he can't quite figure out, and some flowers wrapped in paper in the other. "It's about time!" he lets her know.

"Sorry," Emily says quite relaxed, "I was just standing in line to pay for the food when I got your text. This hospital complex is huge and a bit confusing to be honest. I'm not sure I took the shortest way on my way back. Healthy muffins, iced tea, and something for your sweet tooth," she says with a grin, holding the tray out to William. "What happened?"

"What happened? What do you think happened? The baby's here, of course, and mom wants to see us!"

Emily gives a girly shriek that hurts William's ears once again. "Yay! Great! You could've been a bit more specific in your text rather than simply summoning me back here. I thought you were just craving the food."

"Yeah, well, there was food right in front of our noses." William points to the vending machine, unable to keep his outstretched index finger steady. "But you had to go on a hunting trip for some salad leaves and made me stand around here alone wondering."

"Where are they?"

"In room 302. They are waiting for us. It's this way." William nods in the direction Mulder showed him.

"Okay, let's go then."

Side by side, Emily and William take long strides toward the room they were told. "Boy or girl?" Emily asks on the way.

"Girl."

"Yay again! Ah, that's wonderful. I have a little sister," she chants.

William isn't sharing an ounce of his sister's enthusiasm. If he had been given a choice, he would have passed on this experience as a whole, but now that they are standing in front of room 302, by opening that door what he has tried to deny will become real. If only his mom is alright, he will accept all that comes with it: sleepless nights because of the baby crying, smelly diapers, more Thai takeout, and an annoying younger sister on top of an annoying older one. If only his mom is alright. Emily knocks and he hears his mother's voice say "Come in!" It sounds weak, he thinks, and his heartbeat accelerates. When he follows his sister into the room, he braces himself for the worst.

[dancethroughthethunder]

A Little Gryffindor Courage

Word Count: A little under 4.6k

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!Reader

Request: “Hi! Can you please do a young Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw! reader where she smells amortentia for slughorns class and she smells chocolate and panics bc woah, Remus likes chocolate! And he smells her scent (whatever you decide) in his own and gets the marauders go help set them both up? Tysm!!”

Authors Note: Am I using the “Marlene, Dorcas, Lily and Reader as girl group parallel to the Marauders just because four people get sat at a table in my brain”? You bet I am. Also, fem!reader as the request specified pronouns! This is my first request and I’m super excited to write it. I made the reader smell like lilacs because that’s what I smell like and it’s the first scent that came to mind lol. Reader smells more than just chocolate in the Amortentia bc I firmly believe it’s about more than romantic love. So I’ll say it now, only the third and final smell for Reader is meant to be romantic. I’m a sucker for an amortentia fic and a young!Remus so this is the perfect first request- it’s like you picked my brain to come up with it. I hope you like it! Xoxo (tagging @ragnarachael bc I promised her I would)

Summary: Sixth year students Remus Lupin and Y/N L/N have been good friends and potions partners for a while. One day, Professor Slughorn decides to switch up the pairs and you find yourself partnered with your dear friend Lily Evans while you study and make Amortentia. What happens when you find yourself smelling chocolate? Some teasing from Lily, and a push in the right direction from your friends help you and Remus figure out that there might be more than just friendly feelings between the two of you. 

Warnings: If you count some terrible puns as a warning, then there’s that.

“Hey pretty lady, can I walk you to your class?” 

“Oh my, a suitor of my own. I can’t wait to tell mother.” Your best friend Lily Evans giggled as she turned around to see you standing behind her, hand extended to her.

“Oi L/N, you make a better James than James.” Sirius yelled out from down the table as you watched Peter duck so James could have the perfect line or sight to toss a piece of cereal at his best friend. 

“Good morning boys.” You waved, laughing as Lily took your hand and began to walk with you away from the Gryffindor table and out of the Great Hall to go to your first lesson, Potions. 

You loved having Potions first thing in the day, and certainly not because of your professor. Sure Slughorn meant well but there was only so much fawning he could do over you and your best friends before you were practically begging for Professor McGonagall’s tough no nonsense attitude. No, you liked Potions because it meant you got to start your day with your best friends, as Ravenclaw and Gryffindor shared the class together. 

The second you left the Great Hall, you were joined by Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon, the other half of your friend group. You supposed people thought it was strange that your closest friends were in a different house, but hey houses are about the qualities you espouse and hold dear, not a binding group of exclusive friends that you can’t stray beyond. The four of you made your way down to the dungeons while the three Gryffindors caught you up on the nighttime shenanigans the Marauders had been up to since you saw them last. 

Walking into the classroom, you saw a note on the front board telling you that Professor Slughorn would be late and to divide into the pairs up on the board. Huh, that’s weird, you thought, Slughorn usually keeps the same partners. Well, I hope my new one is as good as my current one. You scanned the board to find your name and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that luckily you were paired with Lily. Okay, so maybe there were some benefits to being the teacher’s favorites. 

“Aww poor Y/N/N, she won’t get to stare at her boy all class.” Marlene teased as her and Dorcas took their seats on the opposite sides of the table from you and Lily. Huh, me and Lil and Dorcas and Marls? Slughorn must be in a really good mood.

“Oh hush, Remus and I are friends okay, nothing more. You’re just projecting your love for Sirius onto me, Marlene McKinnon.” Marlene shrugged, smirking, but dropped the subject as the boys in question walked into the room. 

“Sluggy, Lily, ladies, other members of the class.” James Potter came strolling into the classroom first, with a smirking Sirius Black, an amused looking Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin, lovingly rolling his eyes at his friend. James stopped to acknowledge Lily, then the rest of your table before turning to realize that your professor was nowhere to be seen. 

“We’re supposed to be getting into the pairs listed on the board, and starting to brew Amortentia. But then again, those of us who can read already know that, Potter.” If it was anybody else you were sure the harsh comment would be enough for a jinx thrown behind their backs later, but with Lily and James it was just par for the course. 

You went to the storage cupboard to get the ingredients you needed, while Lily was setting up your cauldron with the proper equipment you would need to make the potion. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” You heard the familiar voice of your typical potions partner and turned around to find Remus Lupin standing behind you, waiting to grab his own ingredients. 

“Morning, Remus. I have to say, as glad as I am that it’s Lil, I’m going to miss my favorite potions partner”. You teasingly bumped his hip with your own as you said this, your arms full of potions ingredients. 

“Don’t let Lily hear you say that I’m your favorite, not her, she’ll kick both of our arses.”

“Oh Remus, who said I was talking about you?” You giggled as you ducked under his arm to head back to your table.

“I’m wounded, truly.” Remus smirked at you as you tried to hide the blush that was undoubtedly creeping up your face. 

“Somehow I think you’ll survive, Rem.” You quickly walked away before Marlene or the girls could notice the interaction and tease you even further about it. 

You walked back over to your table, trying not to look back at the tall boy that had captured your attention. As much as you liked Remus, you weren’t going to say anything. Sometimes you thought he was flirting with you, but you were sure that you were reading into it. Besides, with best friends like James, Sirius and Peter, there was no way he could possibly like you without the three of them turning it into a spectacle a la Lily and James. 

Sometime later, Professor Slughorn had appeared, apologizing for his absence and mumbling something about a group of first and second years that had needed a big enough disciplinary meeting that included him as their Head of House, and the Headmaster. You barely paused to register what he was saying as you continued focusing your attention on brewing your, fairly complicated potion. Soon enough, the liquid in your cauldron was taking on a mother-of-pearl shine as steam came piling out of it. You wiped your hand over the back of your forehead, to hopefully reduce the bit of sweat that was appearing as everyone’s potions were giving off hot steam.

“Hey, Marlene?” 

“Yes, Dorcas?”

“I wonder what exactly a tall, sandy haired Gryffindor prefect smells like?” You looked up from your potion and groaned as your two best friends on the other side of the table exchanged wicked grins, that you knew meant trouble.

“Well you know Dor, I bet there’s one way to find out.” 

“Just ask Y/N/N what her Amortentia smells like.” Dorcas and Marlene finished together as Lily laughed and you groaned. 

Unbeknownst to you, there was a similar discussion occurring over at the Marauders table.

“Hey James, how many galleons do you want to put on a bet that whatever Y/N smells like, our Moony here smells in his potion?”

“It’s lilacs!” Peter excitedly claimed.

“What?” His three best friends turned, faces screwed up in confusion, to stare at him. 

“What Y/N smells like? She smells like lilacs.” Peter smiled as he offered this information.

“Now how in Merlin’s name do you know that Pete?” Sirius turned to look from Peter to you, back to Peter with one eyebrow raised.

“That Hogsmeade weekend when she was sick and couldn’t go, she asked me to pick up some more of her soap for her, don’t you remember?”

“No Pete literally nobody remembers that, and loverboy, do you feel like you’ve got competition now?”

“Don’t be a hippogriff’s left nut James, you two probably just had detention that day. And regardless, anyone could tell you that she smells like lilacs.”

“Again, no, nobody just knows that off the top of their head. Unless they’re Peter or they’re in love.”

Before either you or Remus could give some sort of (honestly well deserved) snarky remark to your respective friend groups, Professor Slughorn called the class to attention and began to wax poetic about Amortentia.

“Ahh Amortentia. The strongest love potion in the world, but I’m sure you all know that from the chapter. It smells different to each person, depending on that which attracts them. Some people smell purely based on the romantic love in their life, but for many of us, Amortentia’s smell reminds us of love both familial and romantic, platonic and intimate. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, maybe love is in the nose of the potion maker.” Slughorn paused here to chuckle, with one hand on his stomach and the other rested on his desk, clearly incredibly amused by himself. 

As badly as you wanted to keep a straight face and not encourage the man from any further attempts at humor, you couldn’t stop the laugh escaping from your mouth. Before you had a chance to cover your mouth with your hand, Remus turned around and the two of you shared eye contact and a smile that Lily (who was of course, observing) would swear had nothing to do with the joke you were both unsuccessfully trying not to laugh at. That was one thing you liked about having Remus as a potions partner, you had similar senses of humor and he wasn’t afraid to laugh at a professor’s bad jokes with you. Unfortunately, Professor Slughorn caught the eye contact between you two and decided that you were the perfect person to pick on as the next, and final, part of the lesson.

“Now, class, as we can see Miss Evans and Miss L/N’s potion is absolutely marvellous, see the mother of pearl sheen? The spirals of steam? I can see that not all of you had as much luck, so after we have Miss L/N demonstrate for us how to properly smell the potion and describe for us what she smells, I want you all to come over here and smell their potion. Then you may pack up for the day. Remember, I want a foot of parchment on Amortentia and you will not receive complete marks unless I see you smell this potion and you make mention of your specific type of scent in your essay. Have a good day, I’ll be at my desk to observe if you have any questions. But first, Miss L/N?”

You were hoping he’d forget. But, he didn’t. What a man, forgets when you need him to remember and remembers when you need him to forget. Oh well, at least he means well. You tucked your hair behind your ears so as to not get any of it in the potion and leaned forward to inhale just a little bit of the steam to be able to smell your potion. 

“Well, go on girl, tell us what you smell.”

As you breathed in, the first thing you noticed was the indescribable scent that you knew without hesitation, “It smells like my grandmother’s kitchen. If I could describe happiness and childhood in a scent it would be this.” You sighed contentedly as you continued describing the scent of your potion, “and something.. Comforting, clean, but I can’t totally tell. Oh, Lil can you move away for a moment?”

As Lily moved to the other side of the table, you realize that you can still smell what is just so fundamentally Lily. “Well that makes sense, the next scent is my best friend. It’s you, Lil.” You smiled at her as you tried to hone in on the third and final discernible scent in your potion. 

“Anything else Miss L/N?” You sensed that Slughorn could tell you weren’t quite done with your potion.

“It’s… hmm I mean it’s sweet but not like a pudding. I think it’s, yes it’s chocolate.” You were so focused on your potion that you didn’t see the way that Remus froze in his chair, eyes on you while Sirius was (not subtly at all) tapping Remus on the knee under the table, as if to say “Hey Remus that’s you in case you didn’t know, that friend of ours that you’ve fancied for years smelled you and you’re chocolate”. You know, the way an excited puppy might hit you with its wagging tail. 

But you didn’t notice, you were too busy trying to think through who you associated with the smell of chocolate because smelling Remus? Certainly not, how fanciful and romantic- you didn’t have time to be a hopeless romantic. No, there had to be some other explanation than the boy who you knew always had chocolate for a friend in need and who threatened to die Sirius’ beloved hair if he stole his last bar of chocolate one more time. It couldn’t be Remus, who always let Lily raid his chocolate stash for you when he knew it was your time of the month, Remus for whom you made sure to return the favor (what? You were a Ravenclaw for Rowena’s sake, it wasn’t like you hadn’t put two and two together, I mean really it didn’t take a potions master to figure out why his friends called him Moony). Nope, there was another explanation and that was that. 

While you were typically to dispose of your own potion and clean up your workstation, Professor Slughorn allowed you and Lily to be the first to leave class and have someone else (likely him) clean up your area, that way everyone else could use your perfect potion to find their own smell. You and Lily grabbed your bags and books, told Marlene and Dorcas you’d meet them in the courtyard and headed out of the classroom. 

As you made your way to the courtyard, Remus was taking his time clearing his own cauldron, hoping that if he went slowly enough his friends would give up and go smell the Amortentia without him. He could have smelled his own except Peter accidentally bumped his arm while he was pouring one of his ingredients into his cauldron. While Peter apologized profusely, Remus didn’t mind; it was one of the most advanced potions they had attempted so far and it was likely that a mistake would be made somewhere along the way. Regardless, Remus wasn’t necessarily afraid of what he might smell, he was afraid of admitting it to his friends. 

“Cmon Moons, time to go find out what gives you a nose boner…. A noner”

“Sirius, do you hear the things that come out of your mouth?” Being best friends with James and Sirius, one might think that they would cease finding things surprising. They would be wrong.

“Nope, it’s a surprise to me as well, more fun that way. Let’s go!” Before Remus could protest or find something else to occupy his time and attention, Sirius had grabbed his one arm, James the other and Peter was standing behind him making sure that he had no choice but to move forward towards the cauldron. 

The three boys shoved Remus so hard he nearly went head first into the cauldron, a little too excited to see what the potion would reveal. When the tall blonde boy softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up instinctively at the first smell of the potion, the boys knew that look meant one thing and one thing alone: lilacs.

Remus would deny it (“Denial is a hell of a drug, my wolfy little friend”) but he had a Y/N face. James could put a bell around your neck and it still wouldn’t be as reliable as Remus’ face to notify others that you had entered a room. Then again, as he’d remind his friends, unless you’re carrying a mirror around everywhere, one can never really know what the nuances of their different facial expressions can look like. Regardless, the Y/N face never lies, and without having to ask, the Marauders knew that the potion had confirmed what everyone with a pair of eyes knew, that you and Remus both fancied each other deeply enough to impact the smell of your Amortentia. As Remus began to straighten up, the three boys exchanged looks and knew that they needed to do something to help the two of you figure out how to express your feelings before someone in your respective friend groups just put it in a Howler for the entire Great Hall to hear. 

As you went on with the rest of your day, completely unaware of what (or perhaps more accurately, who) Remus smelled in his Amortentia, your friends realized that the Marauders were up to something. After Potions, you didn’t have another class with Gryffindors for the rest of that particular day so until dinnertime (you liked to spend lunch with your fellow Ravenclaws) you wouldn’t have a really good chance to catch up with any of them. That left the Marauders free to scheme and your friends free to try and find out what their favorite trouble makers were up to. 

“Alright Pettigrew, tell us what’s going on.” Lily Evans walked up to Peter Pettigrew who, instead of using his break to go into the courtyard or even the library, was standing outside the very same potions classroom they were in that morning.

“What? Erm, nothing really… what’s… going on with you?” Peter looked around nervously wondering why now of all times, it was his turn to be the lookout. They should have known better than to come up with a plan regarding Y/N without bringing Marlene, Lily, and Dorcas in on it. 

“Come on Peter, you can’t think we’re that stupid. Now where are the other three? And what trouble are you getting into?”

“My sweet Lilyflower.” The three girls jumped as Sirius appeared behind them, having snuck up behind them silently.

“Ugh, Sirius. Come on, we know you’re up to something and I don’t have time for another one of Potter’s proposals.” Lily rolled her eyes, while Marlene and Dorcas laughed. 

“Now now Lilypad, you’re not the flower we’re concerned with today. We’re on more of a… lilac kick today.” Sirius smirked, feeling so clever as he said this.

“So it has to do with Y/N?” Marlene’s eyes lit up as she started to put the pieces together.

“What? Erm, what?” 

“Everyone knows she smells like lilacs, she’s always getting more lilac soap and perfume when we go into Hogsmeade.” Dorcas rolled her eyes as Sirius looked around, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Huh, Remus was right, everyone knows that.” Before Sirius could answer, the door behind Peter opened and James came out of the classroom. 

“Okay, we take it back Pete, maybe that is something everyone knows.” Peter smiled triumphantly as Sirius shrugged. “Anyways, follow us ladies.” The six students walked up towards the Gryffindor common room together, as the boys filled the girls in on their plan for dinner. 

Dinnertime arrived and you walked into the Great Hall, surprised to find that none of your friends were at the Gryffindor table. You quickly scanned the other three tables, taking extra time when looking at the Ravenclaw table, in case they decided to switch things up and were waiting for you at a different table tonight. You even glanced over at the Slytherin table, knowing that the chance of them being there was greater than the chance of you suddenly owning all the gold in Gringotts. 

Suddenly there was an arm around your shoulder, and Sirius was by your side. “M’lady, would you care to join me for dinner?”

“Oh well of course good sir”. You laughed as you allowed Sirius to steer you towards the Gryffindor table. You sat down next to him and saw James, Marlene, Peter, and Dorcas all walking in together, talking as they made their way over to you and Sirius at the table. You started to pour yourself a glass of pumpkin juice when you realized that your friends were definitely up to something. The girls acting this cozy with the boys? All while wearing mischievous smiles on their faces and staring at you? Yep, something was definitely going on. You wondered if it had anything to do with Lily and Remus’ absences and wondered for a moment if that meant James was planning another elaborate show of love for Lily with Remus acting as the distraction.

“Alright, you lot are up to no good, what is it this time?” You did your best impression of Professor McGonagall, making Dorcas, Marlene, and Peter burst out in laughter and earning impressed smirks from Sirius and James. 

“My dear, wonderful, talented potion maker Y/N/N, could you kindly identify this potion for us?” James pulled a vial out of his pocket, took off the lid and handed it to you. Even if you hadn’t noticed the distinct coloring, the immediate smell of chocolate and Lily’s fresh linens hit you and you knew that somehow your friends had gotten ahold of their own bit of Amortentia.

“Guys, you can’t be serious? You can’t give someone Amortentia, that’s incredibly unethical and not to mention-”

“Don’t worry my wise little friend, we aren’t dosing anyone. But, you can confirm this is Amortentia?” Sirius smirked at you while taking the vial out of your hands, all the while leaving the cap off.

“Yes of course, how did you get it? What are you doing with it?”

“Never mind that, and just wait and see.” Sirius said as Marlene leaned into your ear to whisper (“nicked it from Sluggy’s office earlier”).

At that exact moment, Lily and Remus came up to the table, deep in discussion. “Hey everyone.” Remus smiled at you as he greeted everyone.

“Here, mate. You can take my seat and I’ll move over- woah, sorry Moons.” In his attempt to stand up and allow Remus to swap spots with him, Sirius slipped and managed to pour the entire vial of Amortentia down Remus’ robes. Before anyone could offer him a napkin to wipe it off the Muggle way, or could get their wand out for a quick Scourgify, Remus started laughing.

“Merlin, Sirius, it really wasn’t that important for you to prove. We get it, you don’t know that Y/N usually smells like lilacs, you didn’t need to go out and nick her perfume to prove that the rest of us recognize it.” Remus continued laughing as your jaw dropped. 

All of a sudden, it made sense. As the pieces fell together, you realized why Sirius had stolen the Amortentia from Slughorn’s office and why ¾ of the Marauders were conspiring with your friends. You quickly realized that the reason no one was quick to help clean up the mess was because unlike you, they knew it was coming and wanted to make sure that Remus would identify your scent before it was gone. You also figured that the reason Lily came late was to distract and slow down Remus so everyone else could have time to have you identify the potion, and that Sirius’ spill was as purposeful as him initially taking the seat next to you. Not for the first time that day, you knew that Remus unknowingly caused you to both smile, and blush while trying to hide both. 

“I suddenly remembered that I need to ask my girl Minnie McG about Quidditch and that I need Sirius, Peter, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas with me for moral support.” James jumped up from the table, and after a nod from Sirius, the rest of your friends stood up and quickly headed towards the front of the room.

“All of them? That’s so odd. Y/N, your perfume is rather lovely as always, but would you mind passing me a napkin?” Remus awkwardly brought his hand up to scratch behind his ear as he sat down across from you, waiting for an explanation and a napkin.  You instead got your wand out and muttered a quick scourgify, handing Remus a glass of pumpkin juice instead.

“Erm, Remus.”

Before you could say anything else, Remus (finally noticing the hesitation in your voice and amusement on your face) panicked that he had made you uncomfortable by recognizing your perfume, “Oh so earlier the boys and I were talking about our friends and Peter mentioned that he knew that you smelled like lilacs because of that one Hogsmeade trip and then-”

“Remus!” You reached across the table and placed your hand on his, hoping that you were guessing correctly in that your scent was romantically in his Amortentia, and that it wasn’t there just as a good friend.

“Yes?” This time, it was Remus’ turn to flush, and though his hand twitched nervously under yours, he didn’t dare move a muscle.

“That wasn’t my perfume Sirius spilled on you. It was, well, it was some leftover Amortentia from this morning. Wait, hey, wait, let me finish okay?” You smiled sweetly at him, knowing that his nerves had to be extreme right now. “Do you remember the third thing I smelled this morning? The chocolate? It’s you, of course it’s you Remus. I mean honestly, do you think I fancy the cashier at Honeydukes?” You winked at him, then took a deep breath.

“Listen, Rem, if I’ve got this all wrong and you smelled my perfume platonically like I smelled Lily, just say the world and we’ll never mention this again but, I fancy you, a lot. I figure that I know us both well enough to know that neither of us are really keen on being the one to make the first move. So I was wondering if I could borrow a little of your Gryffindor courage?”

Remus (who was displaying the strongest case of Y/N face in recorded history) nodded, happy but also curious to see where you were going with this. You smiled and took a breath to steady yourself as you lifted the hand that wasn’t currently on his and placed it lightly on the side of his face. If hearts could melt, yours would have been absolute liquid at the sight and sensation of Remus smiling and leaning into your hand. You slowly started to lean in, wanting to give him the opportunity to change his mind. 

Finally, for the first time since he realized he fancied you all those years ago, Remus Lupin decided to do something about it and leaned in to meet you halfway. Remus turned the hand on the table upwards, so as to hold your hand properly while kissing you and you smiled into the kiss thinking that if Gryffindor courage meant getting to kiss Remus like this, you might talk to Dumbledore about a house transfer.

As you pulled away, you heard a noise behind you and turned around to find Professor McGonagall staring at the two of you, as you both blushed but remained holding hands.

“Miss L/N, Mr. Lupin, I assume I don’t have to remind you that public displays of affection need not occur in the Great Hall?” McGonagall tilted her head and spoke sternly, and before you could apologize, Sirius and James came quite literally running up to the three of you.

“Minnie, it’s young love!! You can’t deny them that!” Sirius yelled as James dramatically pretended to cry, hand clutched to his chest. 

“Oh pull yourselves together boys, and get on with dinner.” As soon as Minerva McGonagall turned away from you, she could no longer keep a smile from creeping onto her face. She was ready to collect her galleons from Pomona Sprout about which of the two of you would make a move first (she counted your declaration as a move as the kiss was mutual), and could later be heard laughing over pudding “Well of course, I wasn’t going to deny them that, I mean did they see me revoking house points? No, but I can’t let them know we approve, Albus, it takes away half the fun”). 

[jisungsmochi]

lovestruck - park jisung

lovestruck - park jisung by jisungsmochi 

NEW SERIES ALERT: i’m doing short fics for the dreamies based off songs by The Vamps! stay tuned for the rest hehe <3

college!au, whipped jisung, lots of fluff and teeny bit of angst but not really 

word count: 3.3k

summary: “i’m hung up, i’m shook up, i’m lovestruck”

park jisung wasn’t the one to ask someone out, god he didn’t even know how to properly cook ramen. but from the day he met you, he needed to know you. he wanted to love you, it was something he couldn’t shake away. but what do you do when you’re heartbroken yourself, and there’s a lovestruck boy pining over you?

//

Excuse me miss,

I don’t ever do this,

Must admit i’m pretty nervous,

But just incase you say yes.

jisung was terrified to start his first semester at college. the fact that he just scraped by to get accepted, was already feeding into his nerves. he was worried he wouldn’t make any friends, or be able to keep up with the course content. no matter how many times jeno and jaemin tried to drill into his head that they’d be there to help him through it, the younger boy had a hard time believing in himself. his first day wasn’t the best, he was lost on campus for a solid 30 minutes, missing half of his first lecture. he couldn’t shake the image of rows of people staring at him as he rushed to a seat in the theatre. he felt his cheeks burn at the embarrassment, attempting to hide behind his laptop screen. from the corner of your eye, you noticed the flustered boy, sitting three seats away from you. the seats were empty, giving you a clear view of the dark haired boy. you tuned back into the lecture, thoughts of him still lingering in your mind.

jisung didn’t notice you until the third or fourth lecture. you always sat in the same spot and so did he. naturally, you both started noticing eachother. at first you exchanged small glances, kind of like ‘are you getting this?’ and other times, jisung would catch himself staring at you, zoning out the voice of the lecturer. he thought you were utterly mesmerising. from the way you pushed strands of hair behind your ears, to the way your face contorted into confused expressions. jisung wanted to get to know you, he felt like it was something he needed to do.

so he went to the two people who were experts at both relationships and the college lifestyle.

“okay so you think she’s pretty?” jaemin raised his eyebrows, attempting to catch popcorn in his mouth while sitting on his bed in his shared dorm with jeno.

“pretty is an understatement. she’s just...i don’t know how to explain it” jisung smiles to himself, feeling giddy inside.

“do you know her name?” jeno continues, admiring how flustered the younger boy was becoming.

“uh, not exactly. i mean, i think i heard someone call her before, but i can’t be sure” jisung pouted, realising that he truly didn’t even know your name.

“gosh jisung! you don’t even know the girl’s name, and you’re pining over her already?” jaemin teased, throwing popcorn at him.

jeno started scolding jaemin for making a mess, while trying to give his best advice to jisung.

“why don’t you approach her before the lecture, so you both can have a conversation and then you can ease into asking her to hang out with you?” jeno suggested, but the thought of doing so, had jisung worried.

“i can’t do that, it’s not me. you guys know i’m shy” he softly sighed, lowering his head. the two older boys looked at him in pity, both coming to his side.

“don’t be like that, just try to talk to her, and if she flat out rejects you then she’s not the one okay? you gotta put yourself out there! it’s what college is about” jeno continued to comfort him.

“yeah exactly! and what would happen if you didn’t talk to her? you’d just be creepily staring at her until she has to tell you to stop” jaemin shrugged, causing jeno to throw a pillow at him.

“don’t listen to that idiot, just be yourself and i’m sure she will be more than happy to talk to you” jeno patted jisung’s shoulder, slowly beginning to calm down the anxious boy.

here goes nothing.

the very next lecture, you found yourself arriving to the theatre earlier than you thought. you slept through one of your many alarms, panicking that you were going to be late. you opted to sitting on the staircase outside the theatre, waiting for everyone else to arrive. jisung also arrived earlier than usual, but for the sole reason that he needed to rehearse what he was going to say to you. so when he saw you sitting on the staircase with no one else in sight, he froze. you noticed his presence, instantly recognising him as the boy who sat three seats away from you. you gave him a small smile before continuing to tap on your phone. jisung held his fists tightly together, going over the his prepared script one last time, before approaching you.

“uh excuse me....miss” he blurted, causing you to stop what you were doing. you looked up at the flustered boy, shocked he was speaking to you.

“did you really just call me miss?” you softly chuckled, standing up to face him. you were standing on the second step of the staircase, almost making you eye level with him.

“y-yes? i don’t usually do this, actually i’m kind of nervous. wait where was i again? oh yeah, i’m hoping you’ll say yes, but uh do you want to like, hang out after this lecture?” jisung stammered, as you followed along with each word. you couldn’t help but smile, he was cute, and you couldn’t deny it. but you hoped that this was nothing more than a friendly, classmate outing. you weren’t ready for anything more than that.

“yeah sure, jisung” you nodded, watching as his eyes shot open widely.

“you know my name?” he stuttered,

“yeah, you have your name on your laptop case, you know that right?” you giggled, watching as the realisation hit him. jisung just chuckled along, stringing on about random things as you both entered the lecture theatre. he took the initiative to sit next to you this time, softly whispering to you about all sorts of things. he finally made a friend.

I had to ask,

If you already had dinner plans,

I know you probably have a man,

But if you happen to be unattached.

“alright jisung, what is it now?” jaemin opened the door to the younger boy who had woken them up by banging on their door at 8am.

“i need more advice” he rushed into the room, noticing how messy it had gotten. he stepped over random items on the floor before waking jeno up by hitting him with a pillow.

“i’m too tired to be mad right now” jeno groaned, pulling himself up to rest against his head board. jaemin shuffled back into his bed, ready for another update on operation lovestruck jisung.

“i want to ask her to go out to dinner with me” jisung started, the two boys now slowly becoming more interested.

“big move, dinner is a huge step from just hanging at the cafe on campus” jeno commented as jisung shot him a glare.

“yes i know, but i really just want to ask her to see if she’d say yes” jisung assured himself as the two boys just shrugged,

“you worry too much, she seems like a good person, don’t be too frantic” jaemin sighed, ruffling jisung’s hair before walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

maybe jaemin was right, jisung thought to himself. just play it cool.

you and jisung were at the campus cafe once again, reviewing the notes from this week’s lecture. it was a regular occurrence for the both of you to hang out like this. you didn’t think much of it. but today, jisung was acting more jittery than usual. he wouldn’t look at you and was always on his phone. you weren’t exactly annoyed at him, but curious as to what was bothering him.

“are you okay? you don’t seem like yourself today” you commented, hoping he would talk to you about it.

“ahh yeah i’m fine, just hungry i guess. i could go for dinner” he started, but you cut him off,

“oh my god! dinner! jisung you just reminded me, i have a dinner date with my boyfriend soon” you instantly remembered  beginning to pack up your stuff.

“wait boyfriend?” he intended to say to himself, rather than aloud.

“oh y-yeah, it’s kinda fresh? i would have told you about it but i’m still waiting to see if it’s serious. i’ll let you know how it goes? i’ll send over any annotations i finish when i can! see you jisung!” you smiled softly, giving his shoulder a small squeeze before rushing out of the cafe.

boyfriend. of course you had a boyfriend. jisung didn’t stand a chance.

I'd sing your name over the airwaves,

Crash your couch and sleep off or stay awake.

If not tonight, maybe tomorrow,

'Cause I'm hung up, I'm shook up,

I'm lovestruck.

jisung was laying in his bed, indulging in a random crime show on netflix. he tried everything to get his mind off of you, but nothing seemed to work. of course you had a boyfriend, how couldn’t you? you were absolutely stunning, with the most charismatic personality, jisung had ever witnessed. he felt like a fool for even thinking he had a chance. 

his thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. he furrowed his eyebrows, not expecting any calls. but when your name popped up on his screen, he immediately answered.

“hello?” he greeted, curious as to why you were calling him so late at night.

“jisung” your voice cracked, which had jisung concerned.

“are you alright? what happened?” he questioned, listening as you let out short sniffles.

“he stood me up. i looked like an idiot, waiting for him outside the restaurant. god, i’m so lucky i didn’t go inside and actually get a table” you tried to lighten up the mood but it clearly didn’t work. jisung didn’t know what to say to you, he was shocked that someone could ever stand you up.

“you’re not an idiot, y/n. don’t say that to yourself. did he give you a reason?” jisung tried to calm you down, his own heart clenching, hearing you in pain.

“no, he hasn’t even responded to my texts or calls. i just feel stupid” you sighed, feeling tears fall down your cheeks. jisung didn’t know how else to comfort you, only wishing he could be close to you right now, and wipe away your tears.

“do you want me to come meet you somewhere? we can just talk” jisung suggested, instantly feeling regret after doing so.

“i mean, you can come to my apartment if you want? i kind of need a friend right now” you continued to sniffle, hearing jisung shuffle around on the other side.

“text me the address and i’m on my way” he hung up the phone, dressing himself appropriately before rushing out of his house and into his car. he felt completely insane for rushing over to you like this, with his messy hair and puffed face from the cold. but he couldn’t bear to see you upset.

he knocked softly on your door, hearing you jiggle the lock on the other end. you pulled the door back slowly, revealing the tall boy dressed in his pajamas with a large black puffed jacket over it. jisung entered your apartment cautiously, taking notice of how small and glum you looked. he wanted to hold you in his arms, but he knew it wasn’t his place to do so. instead he let you lead him to your living room couch where you turned on the heater and made him a mug of hot chocolate.

“by the way, he’s the idiot for ditching you. it’s truly his loss” jisung shrugged, sipping the warm beverage.

“you think so? i feel like i’m at a loss, i mean, i dressed up and waited in the cold, for nothing” you felt like you could start joking about the situation, but jisung didn’t appreciate how you talked down on yourself.

“why do you bring yourself down like that?” jisung questioned, genuinely concerned,

“i don’t know, it’s just easier to blame myself rather than someone who couldn’t give me the time of day” you sunk back into the couch, clutching onto a cushion. jisung have you a solemn look, moving his hand to your shoulder.

“well stop it okay? it’s not nice to hear and as your friend, i cannot let you weep about this stupid guy who does not deserve you” jisung reassured you, making sure to look at you in the eyes. he meant every single word. he thought you were incredible. you needed to know it.

“thank you for this. i don’t know what i would have been doing right now if you weren’t here” you mumbled, feeling heat rise to your cheeks at his words. you’d be lying if you said that jisung didn’t give you butterflies. but considering what went down tonight, you weren’t so sure if having something more than a friendship, with jisung, would be ideal. you were dealing with your own drama, and jisung didn’t need to be a part of your cycle of problems.

jisung always thought jeno and jaemin were just teasing when they said he was a lovestruck puppy. but in this very moment, he agreed with them. he was lovestruck. all he wanted to do was make you smile again. so that’s what he did for the rest of the night. despite your invitations for him to sleep on your bedroom floor, jisung decided to just crash on the couch. he didn’t care if it took weeks, or months to get you to be his. all he knew was that these feelings weren’t going away any time soon.

I'd wait all day, just for a maybe

I'm trying to find a way to be worthy.

If not tonight, maybe tomorrow

'Cause I'm hung up, I'm shook up,

I'm lovestruck.

“so you’re telling me, that she has a boyfriend, but then he stood her up, and she called you and then you spent the night on her couch?!” jaemin’s jaw dropped. jeno couldn’t believe a single word either.

“yep, exactly” jisung shrugged, stuffing his mouth with doritos. the three boys were yet again, hanging out in jeno and jaemin’s dorm room as jisung dished out the details from a few nights ago.

“is she still with him?” jeno was curious,

“i’m not sure. she said that she wanted space from him but you know girls, it’s probably code for, she’s going back to him eventually” jisung admitted defeat, still stuffing his mouth with handfuls of doritos.

“then why does her facebook status say single?” jaemin smirked, shoving his phone in the younger boy’s face.

jisung halted just actions, eyes scanning across the screen.

“no fucking way” he blurted out, crumbs of the doritos, falling all over him.

“you’re a mess, dude. she’s not gonna wanna go for you when you look like this” jeno teased, helping dust off the crumbs from jisung’s shirt.

“you guys think i have a chance?” jisung’s eyes glistened at the idea of you and him dating. it didn’t feel real.

“well you should probably give her time to heal from the breakup. i mean, she’s probably not going to want to jump into anything straight away. just show her you’re there for her and let nature take its course” jeno advised as jaemin nodded in affirmation.

“exactly, just be like how you were a few nights ago and she’ll come around. i must admire how loyal and determined you are” jaemin gave the younger boy a pat on the shoulder before stealing the bag of chips from him.

jisung couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities that would come for you both in the near future.

every weekend from that day onward, you and jisung hung out at your apartment. you’d usually study, watch random shows and movies or simply just talk about the week.

it had been almost two months since your breakup, and you were confident in saying that you no longer felt upset. you started to accept that he wasn’t the one for you and that you deserved better. you couldn’t take all the credit for your progress, having jisung by your side to support you was a huge help.

“hey jisung” you muttered, causing him to look up from his laptop. you were both sitting next to eachother on your living room floor, reviewing lecture notes.

“thank you” you stopped yourself, making jisung more confused by the minute.

“thank you for everything. i don’t know if i would have properly ever gotten over it without you. i know that’s a lot to put onto you and i’m so grateful that you decided to stick with me. if i’m going to be honest, i’ve always wanted to be friends with you. you were the dorky guy who came in late to the very first lecture and sat three seats from me. now you are seated in front of me in my apartment as we cram for our exams” you let out a soft giggle at the last part, jisung reacting in a similar manner. he was shocked to hear your words, the butterflies in his stomach were erratic.

“before you finish, there’s something i think i should tell you” jisung interrupted, his eyes meeting yours. you nodded for him to continue, unsure of what he was about to say,

“from the day i first started noticing you, i could help but admire you. you were always so kind to me and made me feel more at ease with starting college. i’ll just outright say that i have a big crush on you, i have since that day. it feels so weird to say it to you right now. i don’t know if the timing is right, but i’m hoping you can accept my confession. because i really care about you” jisung didn’t continue. he saw your eyes start to glisten. you couldn’t control the emotions you were feeling in this moment.

“jisung, i accept your confession. i know you’re probably wondering if i return you feelings. and if i’m being honest, i’m not quite sure just yet. but i know what type of person you are and i do believe we can be a good fit. so why don’t we go out on a date” you suggested, watching as his mouth was wide open.

“wait what? for real? a date? like right now?” jisung couldn’t believe the words that were leaving his own mouth. you nodded enthusiastically at his reaction.

“i’m going to make this the best date ever, i swear!” he jumped up from his seat, taking your hand before dragging you out of the apartment.

being with jisung was filled with constant laughter, lame jokes, soft touches and warm hugs. he wasn’t afraid to show you how much he adored you. he wasn’t afraid to pull you into him when you were down. and he wasn’t afraid to admit to you, that he was completely lovestruck.

[queerchoicesblog]

A  Life So Changed (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 15)

So, folks, here’s the new chapter of the series. Thank you so much for your support, hope you enjoy it!

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Also, this chapter contains reference to THIS FIC I wrote about James and Zetta inevitable confrontation not showed in the original book.

Word Count: 2000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped​ ​ @storyscapefanficarchive​ @marmolady​ @animus-and-anima​ @hayley-carter19 @escako​  @everlastingchoices​ @indescribablechoices​ @ahrielstuff​ @bornonawdnsday​ @nazario-sayeed​  @h-doodles​ @adele-serda​ @marlcasters​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​  @michelleconnoly​ @charliejane-blog​ @ghost-of-yuri​  @choicesgremlin​  @lanzhansguqin​ @orange-elephants​ @wonder-falcon​

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon​ @nydeiri​

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14

____________________________________

What follows that night is a feverish dream. The following months flow in a haze as days blend into each other. New York, my apartment...all is familiar yet ever distant. As if I'm back home and somewhere far away simultaneously. I'm here and I'm not here.

Moving on is tougher than I could have possibly imagined. Sabine and Richard take care of me with tender compassion, doubling their usual efforts: it's heartwarming, truly. It leaves me wondering what I have ever done right in my life to deserve such adoration and, most importantly, affection because it's genuine concerned affection what I see in their eyes when our eyes meet. Sabine immediately added a newfound touch of sweetness to her proverbial efficiency and joins me at the breakfast table more often these days: sometimes it happens that I am not in the mood for talking and we sit together in complete silence. At first it made me nervous but my little Napoleon doesn't seem to mind: she would offer me a smile and gesture to the coffee pot or the plate filled with slices of my favourite bread and my nervousness melts away replaced by a sense of comfort. Richard visits me more than usual and invites me to join him for a walk at Central Park: "you always say how much you love that place, let's go together...it will do you good" he suggests, smiling sheepishly and offering me his arm. Just like Sabine, he doesn't mind that at times I fall quiet and melancholy takes over me. He would gently stroke my hand resting on his arm and keep walking at my side. One day, as I took a seat on a bench, he picked a flower, a gorgeous little daisy, and pinned it to my hat. He smiled at me and gave my hand an encouraging squeeze before taking a seat beside me. He's surprisingly sweet, sweeter than I deserve, and more mature than I thought when we first met. Richard never once mentioned nor complained about James. He would have every reason and right to question me about him after the secret letters my nephew sent him, asking for money. He never did: the day after our arrival, he even asked his friend John to make sure Mr. Eisler and his valet were safe in their New York apartment. Richard is probably waiting for the moment I'm ready to have that conversation. How could I never be ready for it? Yet, I must, I must confront my nephew: what he did is too hurtful and serious not to come with harsh consequences. Before I send a note to James, I share with Richard my decision: as much as I have little desire to see him now, he's still family and I have at least a moral obligation to him, the old oath I made to Theresa, so I will grant him a generous monthly income. I will set a few conditions, which include no more letters or inappropriate requested to Richard and no more interferences with the marriage under the treat of a legal action from my lawyers. I explain my fiancée the hideous scheme my nephew planned, omitting some details, and I assure him that I was in the dark about the letters: I knew nothing about them and I'm deeply ashamed and sorry he went this far. Richard listens to me carefully and gives me a painful smile as he take my hand into his. "I knew, Zetta. I always knew and I didn't suspect you when I received them, not even for a split second" he sighs. "I trust you, my darling". He just worried about me and he is still concerned because as much as it pains him to say that, my nephew seems dangerous and he has no sympathy for him. I assure him we won't see him anytime soon: after what he did, the things between James and I will never be the same. I don't even know if I will ever be able to forgive him. I repeat the same words to Jaime a few days later and having such a conversation with him is one of the toughest thing in my whole life. I'm angry and disappointed as I speak, wounded in the deep yet tortured by the familiar affection refusing to die inside me. When he close the door behind him, full knowing I don't know when we will see each other again, my heart breaks and I fall sobbing on my knees. My little prince is gone. There is a big fuss in town about the Titanic hearings: American and British authorities are investigating the disaster and the White Star Line company is covered with shame. The hearings are held in New York at Waldorf-Astoria Hotel so I try to keep updated. I spoke to a committing magistrate too: he asked questions about that night to see if I could provide valuable information for the official investigation. It turned out I had none or at least very little to offer him, aside from reporting the questionable decision of lowering half-empty lifeboats and the stubborn refusal to go against it of many officers, like the one I yelled at on the deck. I sign my deposition, which adds up to many others he gathered since the inquiry started. I don't need to testimony at court, he said, he has tons of other witnesses reporting the same issue and he will just add my deposition to the documents to be sent to the judge. "You can go, thank you for your time, Miss Serda" he smiles, vigorously shaking my hand. He praises my heroism but I don't know what he's talking about. Apparently, other witnesses claimed that they owe me their life or saw me protesting on the deck. I'm no hero, I think as my mind runs to the young steward who stayed behind, down in the belly of the sinking ship to keep the light on and give us all a chance to survive. I think his name was Charlie. A few weeks after the beginning of the hearings, about the end of May, I receive a letter from Lucille. She hadn't hear from me since our arrival and she's worried about me, she writes. She had sent me letters but I answered none. She profusely apologises for not waiting for me as she promised but "they had no choice, the chaos was mounting": she hopes this won't be the end of our friendship. Hoping so, she renews her invitation: Richard and I will be her most welcome guests if we fancy joining her and Cosmo for dinner at their apartment whenever it suits us. I don't know how to feel about this. Under different circumstances, it would have filled with joy, maybe relief after all we've been through, now...now things are more complicated than that. Unlike me, Lucille and Cosmo were asked to appear at court during the hearings to verify certain details. They had been all over the press ever since the news spread and I wonder if I'm being a bad friend "abandoning" her in a time like this. The press predictably feasted and is still feasting over the disaster: tragic stories, eye catching headlines, shocking revelations, heartwarming and heartbreaking pictures from the pier: ça vien sans dire, the touching embrace between me and Richard - "reunited lovers" as the caption said - made it to the front page. As weeks went by, my brief appearance was replaced by the new scandal involving nothing less than the Duff-Gordons, not only my personal friends but also a couple of incredibly famous socialites. When I first read it, my heart sank while Richard declared himself disgusted by what journalists write these days. Rumor has it that Lucille, sitting with her husband and secretary on Lifeboat No. 1, commented to her Laura something like, "There is your beautiful nightdress gone" in the aftermath of the sinking. When the Titanic disappeared to the bottom of the sea and poor souls were freezing to death in the ocean, begging us on the lifeboats to come back and save them. I still hear their screams in my nightmares. There's more though: reportedly Cosmo had bribed the lifeboat's crew not to return to save swimmers out of fear the vessel would capsize; he handed checks to them on board of the Carpathia. But Lifeboat No. 1 was designed to carry 40 passengers. Only 12 people were on board when it was lowered unlike the one I was on, filled beyond its capacity. How could an half-empty boat capsize? They could have saved so many lives that night! The thought made my stomach turn to the point that I feel almost nothing when I see the pictures of them during the inquiry: Cosmo looking grim and tensed in his seat and Lucile dressed in black, a mourning dress with a veiled hats, entering the court. I know better than to trust rumours blindly...but I know them. I've known her for ages and, as much as it hurts to say, I can't completely rule out the possibility that for once the press was right. Maybe I'm wrong but I can't vouch for them this time. And doubt is an uncomfortable thing... The final report by the inquiry is more generous than me and clear their names, even if - I'm sure - the general public will be less forgiving. Anyway, Richard is quite fond of the couple, we will surely go visit them... I do not pretend to be fine after what happened on my birthday's night -the sinking, James' betrayal, but I can conceal. I know how to conceal, if need be, in public, in front of people who cannot understand. I'm an actress, a great actress after all. But I feel numb, a ghost of my usual self. During the day I try to keep myself busy. My renaissance requires hard work and commitment as well as a good plan. Sabine and Richard are excellent helpers: I need new projects to work on to make my comeback and an efficient daily schedule to prevent me from drowning in my sorrow. I may conceal it but I dread the time when I have nowhere to run and my mind races back to that memory that fills me with excruciating sadness and guilt. My sweet revolutionary. At night I drink sherry and write letters to Adele. They're passionate, melancholic, tearful. I throw them away in the morning: my words flow on the paper but they ring hollow in the daylight. I don't know what I am supposed to write her. What should I tell her? What could possibly excuse my silence as times go by? I wish I could speak freely what's inside my mind but it's unbelievably difficult. More than she deserves, probably. For some time I tried to convince myself that our little romance on the Titanic was mere attraction, a secret affair favoured by the circumstances: two women growing close, Adele's protectiveness, my heart susceptible to women's beauty and charm just like hers. We found each other and it happened. That's all. But her memory lingers, it never fades away. Never. She always finds a way back to me. At night or during the day, by accident. She's everywhere even if this isn't a place she belongs to. She's in the announcement of a referendum for women's suffrage in Michigan: I read the news and think how excited she must be about it. Maybe she knows it already but I feel a silly urgency to send her the page of the newspaper: your dream may come true after all, see, my love? She's in a gorgeous dress I see hanging on a mannequin in a boutique and I know would fit her perfectly. I have to refrain myself not to buy it and send it to her with a sweet note because I don't care if she needs it, I just want her to have it. She needs beautiful things in her life too. She's in a witty joke I hear in a fancy cafe: I laugh and turn towards Sabine to say "Oh Adele would love this humour" but words die in my throat. When I turn, my cheer has turned into a grimace. Adele isn't here. I don't even know her address here. The thought pains me. I could ask Sabine to find it, I could visit her...but I find myself wondering if it would be the better judgement. I'd give up half my fortune or even more to know about her, even just a quick update. Is she fine? Is she still hurting? Did she and her sister settle down safely? Does she have nightmares at night? She looked so defeated and forlorn on the Carpathia, it pains me to remember seeing the light in her eyes flicker. But maybe this way it will be easier for her to move on. To forget me, if that's what we must get to, no matter how much it hurts. Sometimes I drink myself to a stupor to break the spiral of such thoughts and I'm quite ashamed of myself when Sabine finds me like that in the morning. I mutter nonsense excuses I don't owe her - but I feel like do, she's not a maid, she's my friend - as I hold onto her since I can barely stand on my feet at times and I burst into tears whenever she says: "You have nothing to apologise for, Madam" I do, though. I should - no I must apologise to Adele and Hileni too for disappearing and abandoning them on that pier. I must tell Adele how things really are, how I miss her, it's unbearable... So it's no surprise then that when Richard announces me his idea to postpone the grifter story project I've been working on in favour of a new one, "an homage to the Titanic tragedy", my mind comes find her once again. The project is a wise mix of ambitious opportunism - the sinking is still the talk of the town and people will love it - and genuine concerns. He says I'll not only play the main heroine but also pick the subject, he will just help assessing the script but he wants me to be the one calling the shots on the story to tell. I believe he feels it might be somehow therapeutic for me, aside from the alluring detail of having the star Zetta Serda co-writing an announced success. I consider it for a while, but in the end I write down the Carrem sisters story. I'm fully aware that the picture will hardly be able to bring back to life what it truly happened, the grandeur and the terror. I'm experienced enough to know that the audience can take only that much of the tragedy: they wanna cry and say that they felt as if they were there but they would scream and leave the room if I showed them the truth. A giant ship collapsing in front of you, officers shooting to maintain orders, stewards stubbornly denying desperate passengers their only chance to jump on a lifeboat and to survive, the screams of those who floated in the chilly waters and the dreading silence that followed their unmerciful death. They will never take that much. On the contrary, they will likely enjoy the story of two sisters separated and reunited, prevailing over the impending tragedy threatening to kill them both. It's an heartwarming story with an happy ending and the right amount of pathos and hope. It's also the story of my love that I'm writing down on paper and hand to the posterity. When I present it to Richard, he loves it. He himself couldn't have found a better story, he says, barely containing his excitement. I explain quietly that it's a true story, I just changed the names in respect of the real protagonists of this story. I can only hope Adele won't hate me for this when she sees it. Hate me even more than she's probably doing right now, I frown. I can only hope she will understand.

[wroteasongabouther]

the one when y/n visits harry while he’s making hs2 and magic mushrooms are involved

authors note: this is apart of my ‘grumpy’ series, a bit of info that is in that story does fall into this blurb too so reading it first would be good. but it isn’t necessary. on a side note, i have no personal experience of doing shrooms, but i’ve seen people on them so i sort of wrote from that little bit of info i have. hope you guys like it! :)

authors note part 2: i want to warn you it’s a bit long for a blurb, also if you’re uncomfortable with drug use than majority of this won’t be for you.

grumpy fic page // masterlist // talk to me about it!

—

Making the move from New York to LA was necessary. Not only with your career lifting up, gathering another client to manager, but also with your boyfriend now spending most of his time here o record his second solo album. Also California was home. As much as you enjoyed the city life of New York, you knew nothing would ever be like home was.

“I’ll see you tomorrow mom,” you say aloud, your call connected through the Bluetooth of your car. She had given you her typical weekly call as you were driving down to Malibu.

“Alright sweetie,” she says. “Please do call before you come over, and you’re sure Harry will like Ribollita?” She mentions, again, of the traditional Italian meal she was planning to make.

“He’ll eat and enjoy anything you put in front of him, mom,” you say. “I’m at the security booth, so I need to go now,” you explain as the security guard on duty of the studio here in Malibu that Harry had been holed up in for a couple days now.

“Alright sweetie, love you,” your mother says.

“Love you too, bye!”

The call ends just as you ease your car to a stop at the security booth, hitting the button to your left just once for your window to automatically roll down. The security guard pulls out a clipboard and gives you a short smile.

“ID please,”

“Right,” you sigh, putting your car in park quickly in order to reach over the console to grab ahold of your purse that was at the floor of the passenger seat. Searching through it, you finally find your wallet near the bottom and slide out your ID. “Here you go,” you say with a smile as you hand it over.

The guard looks it over, checking if your facial features match, before scribbling something on the clipboard and handing back the ID card. He then hands over a parking pass for you before pressing a button and then gates open for you.

It doesn’t surprise you that Harry’s recording in a beach house that half had been turned into a studio that’s highly secure. Seeing as Jeff’s father owned a few places in this community it made sense that Harry had taken over one of the homes for himself and his team. The homes themselves were stunning. A dream home of yours, of course, so you were fully enjoying stopping by whenever you had the chance and getting to experience being in one of the most gorgeous houses you’d ever step inside.

It was two levels, a full garage attached too, with a large wrap around porch to complete it. It was a grey colour with white trim along the windows and the porch was white too. With perfect landscaping around it too. The ocean was a bit away but it still made a beautiful view, so there was a backyard too with many bushes and trees lining the property for privacy matters.

After parking your car, you walk up the small path to the front doors and walk inside the house. It smells like there’s a few candles burning close by, filling the air with the lovely aroma. You’re kicking off your flip flops just as you hear the familiar jingle of one of Harry’s producers dogs. The gorgeous French Bulldog comes straight to you, breathing heavy as you bend down and give him all your love and attention. 

“Oh, Mr Judy I missed you too,” you coo at the dog, cupping his face for only a second before he’s licking at your hands. Your heart bursts at his licks, oh how you wanted a dog of your own. Too bad life was just too busy. 

You pick Judy up in your arms and begin your walk down the hallway to what would be a guest bedroom with an ensuite and full walk in closet but it was renovated into a studio. The walk in closet was now the recording booth, and there was no bed in the bedroom. Just a loveseat, a couple chairs, and many different switch boards and other confusing recording gear you had no idea about. You’re muttering silly questions that you know Judy can’t answer about his day and how he’s feeling as you walk into the room. 

It’s dimly light, curtains hiding away any daylight that could seep into the room. A few candles are in fact burning on the coffee table that’s set between the love seat and the recording gear. The usual three faces you’ve grown to know over the past month or so are all seated around the room as you walk in, smiling at each of them. While the whereabouts of your boyfriend is quickly answered as you hear his voice over the speakers set up within the room. You put Judy down and turn to look through the window that was installed to look into the recording booth. Harry’s head is hung back as he belts out another mesmerizing note into the microphone.

“He sounds great,” you sigh as Harry finishes singing whatever backing vocals he was doing and he’s then scribbling something down in that same worn out brown leather journal you knew he held close to him every single day. 

“Yeah, he’s really been on a roll today,” Tyler, one of the two producers/mixers/who plays every single interment known to man for Harry’s songs - and Judy’s owner - states before hitting a few buttons on the switch boards in front of him.

“We’ve written almost two full songs, and it’s not even the evening yet,” Kid states from where he’s sitting on the loveseat. 

“Damn,” you breathe out and rest your hands on your hips just as Harry’s eyes flicker up and find you standing in the room. 

He lifts, what you assume is a glass of red wine, to his lips for a long sip before he sets it on the small table in the recording booth and takes off the headphones he had on. He steps out of the booth and has his arms around you in an instant. You are grinning as he’s squeezing your body tight, as though he’s trying to melt the two of you together. 

“Hey,” you chuckle, brushing a hand through his mess of hair quickly before the embrace is over. 

“Hey, thought you’d be here earlier,” Harry pouts. 

“I just had to do a few things for Meghan’s bachelorette party tomorrow night,” you shrug. Your second client that you started to manage just this past year, Meghan Trainor, was getting married in a month so it’s been more personal things you’ve been helping her with than business. Not that you were complaining, you loved weddings. 

“Her big days coming up soon,” Harry hums before you two are sitting together on the loveseat with Kid. You opt for sitting on the arm of the couch, not wanting to squish with Harry and Kid already sitting on the smaller area. 

“Yup,” you nod. 

All of you continue to make talk of how things have been. Seems Harry’s a bit of a lyrical genius in the moment, scribbling down in his journal as everyone is talking. He’s sipping his red wine, smiling, and honestly in one of the best moods you’ve seen him in in a while. You reach over and touch his arm, catching his attention away from whatever he was looking at on his phone. 

“Did you guys want me to make those pizzas now?” You ask, referring to the plan you had of making homemade pizzas since Kid had gone grocery shopping to buy what you needed. 

“Yeah, we could eat now,” Harry nods. 

You give him a smile before standing up and telling the others that you were going to get started on making dinner. Judy gets up from where he was laying by Tyler and follows you out to the kitchen. You can her the light sound of whatever song they’re working on as you are making the pizzas, moving your head along to the beat and swaying your hips too. 

It’s when the pizzas are just about ready to get out of the oven that Harry joins you in the kitchen. He’s by your side in an instant, snaking his arms around your waist as you’re typing a response to another email. Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, waiting patiently for you to quit typing and pay him attention - shockingly. 

“Pizza is just about done,” you say. 

“It smells good,” he states, but then he’s rubbing his face into the nook of your neck and brushing your hair back and forth. “You smell good too,” he adds, mumbling close to your ear. 

“Do I?” You taunt, giggling as he tickles you slightly.

“Mhmm,” Harry hums, “like strawberries,” 

“It’s my new shampoo,” 

“Well, I quite like it,” 

You’re turning in his arms then, bringing yours to rest at his shoulders as he’s leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. It feels like years since you’ve last shared a long passionate kiss, in reality it’s only been about a day now but you’ve missed his touch and affection. But you supposed his focus needed to be on making this new album. 

“Missed you,” Harry mumbles as he plants a kiss to your neck. 

“I missed you too,” you sigh. 

“Will you stay over here tonight?” Harry asks, looking in your eyes now. You can see the lustful spark in his gaze. The thought of having sex causes your core to ache, sending a shiver down your spine too. But sleeping over wasn’t your original plan, you had lots of things to do tomorrow and you were hoping to get a good nights sleep tonight.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. Harry pouts. “I’m just really busy right now with work, I should get home tonight,” you explanation doesn’t change his facial expression at all. Seems your wine drunk boyfriend was feeling extra needy today.

Just as you’re about to kiss him again, Judy starts barking. You turn out of Harry’s grasp and look to see what he’s barking at. Harry grunts and groans, obviously grumpy that Judy stole your attention away from him. Looking to see Judy was simply barking at the sight of people on the beach, you reach down to pet Judy before turning back to where Harry stood in the kitchen. The scowl on his face makes you laugh. 

“Oh how I love that dashing scowl,” you joke. 

“I’m sure you do,” Harry says deadpan. 

You roll your eyes and give him a quick peck before reaching for the oven mitts sitting on the counter beside him and opening the oven to take out the pizzas. Harry mutters that he’ll go get the others for food before he’s walking out of the room, leaving you to cut the pizzas and get the plates ready for everyone to eat.

—

It’s not till after dinner that Harry and the guys bring up what they had planned for the evening. And it wasn’t something you would have guessed in a million years. 

“Magic mushrooms?” You question, eyebrows raised up. 

“Yeah, get the creative juices flowing maybe,” Harry shrugs, finishing off his glass of wine - the bottle was nearly finished now. 

“Or just have a good trip,” Tyler nods with a smile. You chuckle and shake your head. 

You’ve maybe smoked a bit of weed before, obviously have drank liquor before, but anything else was completely and utterly new for you. And not something you really had planned to give a try either. Harry nudges you with his elbow, knocking you out of your thoughts. You look at him and he smile. His grumpy mood didn’t last too long after you guys all ate. In fact, right now talking about doing these magic mushrooms he looks pretty happy.

“Let’s do it,” he says, “I’ve never tried them before either, it’ll be an experience together,” he exclaims. 

You sigh and lean back into the couch. Tyler has the bag of them in his hand, mentioning that he was going to make it into a tea before. You keep your eyes on the bag though as you think of your option here. It would be quite the experience to have. Doing psychedelics isn’t nearly as extreme as the other drugs in the world. And you were going to do them in a very control environment with people you trusted. You look back at Harry and let out another sigh.  

“Okay,” you say, “I’m in,” 

Harry grins, leaning over to kiss you as Tyler is walking out of the room to get this magic mushroom tea ready for you all to do. It was only you, Harry, Tyler and Kid now - the other producer having left after dinner. Harry’s hand on your thigh breaks you away from your thoughts again. 

“Are you excited?” He asks. 

You shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know, kinda I guess, just never like thought I’d do shrooms,” you explain. 

“I think it’ll be fun though,” he nods, giving your thigh a squeeze. 

“All I’m saying is if I have a bad trip, you’re one hundred percent in charge of helping me,” you say, pointing a finger at him. Harry chuckles and takes the hand you’re pointing at him in his hand, bringing you closer to him as he tugs you into his side. 

“I’ve got you, love, don’t you worry,” he says. 

You only respond with an eye roll, but Harry’s quick to return it. He has his arm around you and is pulling you into his side in a fact movement, causing you to giggle. He places a sweet kiss to your forehead as you snuggle into his body, His arm stays around your body, while his other pulls out his cell phone from his pocket. The two of you scroll through his Instagram together, you’d reach up a finger to double tap a few posts for him. 

And then, within what feels like no time at all, Tyler is coming back into the room with what going to be your first time doing some real drugs. You sigh while hiding your head into Harry’s side. He chuckles as you mutter something about how your father must be looking down on you, feeling oh so proud. 

“Okay,” you say while sitting up. Harry’s already got your cup in his hand, ready to hand it to you. “Let’s freaking do this,” you say dramatically and take the cup of magic mushroom tea.

“Just drink it normally,” Tyler instructs just as he has taken a sip of his own cup. “It’ll take a few moments to kick in, and then we’ll be having a good time,” he says with a smile. 

“Cool,” you mutter. 

“Cool,” Harry mocks you, smiling over the rim of his cup before taking a sip of his tea. 

You stick out your tongue at him before having the first sip of your own tea. It taste normal, just like a more earthy tea with a spoon of sugar in it maybe. You sit back and have another sip as Kid starts talking about a song they must’ve been recording earlier. As you sit back and relax into the couch, sipping your tea, you realize that you’ve nearly drank half maybe a little too quickly. Making an ‘oops’ face, you set down the tea on the coffee table just as Harry gets up to check out whatever on the switch board that Kid and Tyler had to show him.

You’re laying on the couch looking up at the ceiling in no time once you realize you have the couch to yourself. Harry’s in the booth, his voice seeming low and slow as you shut your eyes and listen to him record a few lines over and over again. When you open your eyes, you focus on your cup of tea and decide to lean up and finish it - if you were doing this, you were doing it all. 

After the cup is empty, you sit up a bit and zone out on a poster hung up on the wall across from you. It’s a Led Zepplin poster, vintage obviously, as it’s from when they performed sometime here in LA. Oh how you’d love to have lived back then, you think with a sigh. 

“Y/N,” Harry calls out your name, bringing your attention away from the poster.

“Huh?”

Harry chuckles, giving you a heart melting grin, “I’ve tried getting your attention for like five minutes now,” he states. 

“Oh,” 

“Been staring at that poster for a while,” Tyler adds, “feeling it?” He smirks, seeming to finish off his own cup of tea now before setting the empty cup by yours. There’s the other two empty on the table suddenly too. Suppose everyone finished their tea while you were zoned out. 

"Yeah, I feel good,” you say with a smile.

“We think this song’s about done,” Harry states, taking a seat beside you on the couch. “I wanted you to listen to it,” he adds. He gives you a small smile now, but it’s still as heart melting as his grin. 

“I’d love to,” you nod. Tyler turns around and hits a button on the board, one of the millions, and then the song is playing.

What do you mean, 

I’m sorry by the way

Never coming back down

Harry’s voice fills the room, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. You felt so proud of him. Just as you did when you first heard his songs for his first album. You recognize the backing vocals from what he must’ve been recording when you first arrived. It’s amazing, you think, feeling like the shrooms are only enhancing how much you love this song.

“It’s so good,” you sigh, leaning into Harry as the song ends. You close your eyes as his hand falls onto your thigh. “Play it again,” you say. Harry chuckles, then the song starts over again as per your request. Harry is tapping your thigh to the beat, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I see,” you stop talking as you realize it’s simply word vomit from the shrooms in your system. Harry turns to you and smiles.

“What do you see, babe?” He questions.

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“No, I value your thoughts. You know what your talking about,” he assures you.

“Okay,” you sigh and close your eyes as Harry’s song keeps playing softly. “I see you surrounded by people. Sort of pulling and pushing at you, but not roughly, almost like they’re being lured to you and your aura or something. And you’re just letting them touch you and singing to the camera, maybe stumbling a bit at the contact. And,” you pause, opening your eyes and zoning out on the magazine on the coffee table. “And you’re shirtless,” you say.

“Sounds like one hell of a time,” Kid snorts, you look up to catch him smirking while clicking away at his laptop. The song starts over again.

“I like it,” Harry nods.

“Me too,” you agree.

“Well duh,” Harry teases, pushing your knee gently with his hand. You sway back and forth, it feels like you’re moving a lot slower than you must be. “You thought it up, genesis.” Harry states.

“Oh,” you giggle, “right.”

“You’re so fucked,” Harry says.

“Maybe,” you giggle again. You don’t think you’ve giggled this much in your whole life. Lifting your eyes from the switch board across the room, you look at Harry now. He’s staring right back at you. He didn’t seem as fucked up.

“M’pretty fucked up too,” he admits. It’s almost like he’s read your mind as you thought of wether or not he was as fucked up as you. “No, not as bad as you, babe,” Harry chuckles.

“Oh, I’m not just thinking this am I?” You question, realizing you were speaking your thoughts aloud.

“No,” Harry smiles.

You shrug and look over his shoulder as the little bit of daylight coming through the window behind him. The suns probably going to go down in a couple hours. You sigh and lean forward, elbows resting on your knees as you think of standing. Why did it seem like such a hard task to do though?

“Let me help you, love,” Harry mutters as he stands up first. He grabs your hands and lifts you up without warning, causing you to nearly fall right into him.

“Let’s go outside, lay out back maybe?”

“On the porch? Sure,” Harry shrugs, then turns to his team. “You guys want to come?” He asks.

The group says some sort of yes answer and then you’re leading the way. Thankfully Judy gets the memo and gets up from his bed as quickly as he can, following you out the back door and his paws make way down the few steps to the grass. You smile and skip down the steps, grabbing one of the many toys around to play with him. Not even five minutes pass before you’re giving up on fetch and sitting down on the grass, then kicking your legs out and laying on your back.

The clouds seem to be moving faster then life itself. Forming funny shapes to make you giggle to yourself. Judy nudges you’re arm a few times, to which you respond by petting him. He’s so soft.

“He just got a bath today,” Harry states as he comes up beside you. You look to him. The purple and pink skies behind him make him look even prettier than ever. “You’re the pretty one, babe,” he says with a smile.

“Can’t seem to keep my thoughts to myself,” you hum while shutting your eyes for a moment.

Harry chuckles. He’s bending down, deciding to lay down with you.

“It’s like that voice in my head is completely gone,” you say.

“That voice in your head used to hate me,” Harry states. You furrow your brows dramatically and snap your head to look at him. Harry’s green eyes are already on you. “What,” he snorts and looks back up at the fading purples of the sky, “you used to hate me. Used to yell at me all the time. I’m sure that voice inside your head would curse me out more than you ever said aloud,” he explains. You think maybe Harry has lost that voice in his head too now, maybe the shrooms are effecting him the same way. 

“I was constantly fighting my voice in my head through all those years before,” you sigh and find your gaze back on the sky too. “It was always finding the best in your grumpy moods and bad decisions ever since I first met you. And I would have constant battles with myself, usually talking to myself when I was alone even, fighting about how I could not let myself fall for you.”

“You talked to yourself when you were alone?” Harry questions, letting out a chuckle, “fucking weirdo,” he adds. You throw your arm over and smack him in the chest. He chuckles some more as he lets out a small groan. 

He’s leaning over you in more fast movements that you can’t even focus on how he moved so quickly. It was for sure the drugs effecting you. But you know that it’s not the drugs when you feel those butterflies in you stomach reacting to how close Harry’s face is to yours. You give him a smile and pucker your lips, asking for a kiss. 

“Needy,” Harry mutters. You roll your eyes but it’s cut short as Harry gives you what you want. His lips feel a hundred times softer than ever before. You could melt right there on the grass from how his kiss made you feel - maybe the drugs were effecting how Harry made your body feel.

“Do you even have anything to say on how I said I used to fight my feelings in my head?” You ask, not even realizing how you’re whining at your boyfriend. Harry folds his hands on your stomach and rests his chin on them.

“I think it’s hard to believe we didn’t end up like this earlier than just last year,” he states. 

“Really?” You snort. “We did not get along, but you are you and I can’t deny that some times I was just trying to find the good in your grumpy self.”

“And I always found you attractive,” Harry states nonchalantly. “Especially when you were yelling at me,” he adds with a quick nod. 

“So all the time then?” You joke. 

“Pretty much,” Harry says, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk.

“Cute,” you hum. 

Harry rolls his eyes at you before he’s leaning forward to kiss you once more. You sigh into the kiss and let the effects of the magic mushrooms make you feel like you’re melting into him again. Harry and you share the passionate kiss under the sunset for a while till you two decide that you need to breathe again. 

“You should go make more beautiful music,” you say. 

Harry sighs and sits up, “becomes a big hot shot manager in the industry and now you think you can boss me around, hey?” 

“Baby, I’ve always been bossing you around,” you state, propping yourself up on your elbows as Harry begins to stand up now. Judy gets excited at his actions, letting out a few barks too. “And you love it,” you add while petting Judy. 

“Only cause I love you,” Harry says, offering a hand to help you up. You take it and it feels like you’re flying into the air as he lifts you up to your feet. Letting out a little gasp, you grab onto his arm tight and let your body settle once standing fully.

“Well,” you smile at Harry. “I love you too, I guess,” you say. 

“Mhmm,” Harry hums. You roll your eyes at him before leaning to crash your lips to his yet again. You cut it short though, causing Harry to furrow his brows at you and pout. 

“Go make music,” you say and give him a little push. Harry rolls his eyes at you now, a scowl finding his face before he’s walking up to the back porch with his feet dragging behind him. “Grumpy,” you mutter, but there’s no stopping the smile that’s on your face - and there’s no blaming the magic mushrooms on the overwhelming love you felt for Harry.

[thesunnyshow]

Name: Megan

Writing Blog URL(s): @yunocity​

What fandom(s) do you write for? NCT (127, Dream, Wayv, U)

Age: 20

Nationality: Asian American

Languages: English, Hmong with limited knowledge in Chinese and Korean

Star Sign: Sun: Scorpio, Moon: Taurus, Rising: Aquarius 

MBTI: ESTJ-A

Favorite color: Black, red, white

Favorite food: Spring rolls

Favorite movie: Miracles in Cell No.7, Love Rosie

Favorite ice cream flavor: Mango

Favorite animal: Baby pandas

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?: Tea!

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Marketer for a luxury fashion company or a high-end makeup brand

Go-to karaoke song: Video Games- Lana Del Ray

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?: Mind Reading!

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose?: Roaring 20s

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?: No, I think the way my life is laid out is how it’s supposed to be. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve learned from them. I think if I were to restart my life, I’d not be who I am at this moment and I like who I am right now, I like who I’ve grown to be! 

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken?: 100 chicken-sized horses 

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?: The dancers/athletes!

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures?: I’m skeptical about them so yes 

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?: If you look closely, my eyes are different shades of brown!

When did you post your first piece?: May 11, 2020

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr?: I’ve been on Tumblr for a long time, but I’ve only gotten into reading other accounts’ works 2-3 years ago. Eventually, they inspired me into wanting to make my own writing account and share my stories and ideas!

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr?: Nope!

What inspires you to write?: My emotions and ideas. Also reading old texts from people I love or used to be in my life, tv shows/movies/kdramas, vision boards, and aesthetics of different countries around the world. Most of the time, my mind just comes up with wild random scenarios.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?: I take a break! I’d close my laptop and usually go dance (it’s a way for myself to take a break, yet still feel physically inspired), spend time with family, grab a snack, do some digital art, or research a conspiracy theory!

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why?: Yes, I write smut (legal members only ofc), angst, and general. I write those kinds of genres because those are the most common and there’s so much that you can do with them! You can write them however you want and write whatever kind of plot you see fit, there’s so much flexibility.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?: As of right now, I have been writing for “X Readers” because I want to be really inclusive of everyone! I don’t think I’ll go into OCs or ships (assuming idol and another idol?) because I don’t see that as inclusive. I most likely will stick to “X Readers”.

Who is your favorite person to write about?: Jaehyun from NCT

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?: I’ve only gotten to post one kind of au (arranged marriage au), but some that I have in my drafts that I absolutely enjoy are idol au, friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au, mafia au, fwb au, and mythology au. A genre I also love writing is angst!

What is your writing process like?: I usually write at night after I shower and do my night routine. I plug in some headphones, play some music that fits the mood of the story presently, and start writing! If I have writer’s block, I’ll usually watch some old mvs that bring back old memories!

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?: I haven’t published it yet, because it’s still under the wraps and I want to post about other members too, but I have a mythology au with Jaehyun and it’s my absolute favorite right now! I can’t wait to post it!!

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose?: Yes and no! Yes, because whenever I think of (original) prose I think of a technique of writing that flows naturally with speech and has grammatical structure, so as long as stories have those skills, I would consider them as so. We as humans actually speak, write, and think in prose because it’s seen as a straightforward language and conversational speech. No, because at the same time prose consists of many things. There are several types of prose (non-fictional, fictional, heroic, poetic), so if a story states that it is a specific prose, I would say there is a difference!

What do you think makes a good story?: Emotion 100%. The ability to write with emotions without straightforwardly telling the readers what kind of emotion is felt within a character. Also description of an environment, again, having the ability to describe a moment without stating it like it’s supposed to be obvious. 

What do you hope your readers take away from your work?: The emotion that my writing invokes from them. I want them to read my work and feel the emotion that I’m trying to provoke! Also the fact that I work hard and put a lot of thought while being realistic as I can with the plot! 

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?: Not yet!

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?: Ones that I love are enemies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, friends to lovers, different worlds (metaphorically), and I have some more that I can’t think of! Ones that I cannot stand are, stuck together to lovers, secret billionaire, childhood marriage promises, amnesia, and “If i can’t have you, no one will!!” 

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?: Definitely my process/planning; on how I think of a story and plan it out on my iPad with a bunch of side notes and idea webs.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you?: Oh, it means so much, I can’t even explain. I love it when I get asks that tell me about how mad they are, how much they cried, or how happy they are about something that happened in the story. It means a lot because it means that they actually read through my work and enjoyed it. I love it when my followers and anons talk to me in general!

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?: Yes, I definitely think that we get judged for being too much in our head or having too many unrealistic fantasies. Fanfic writing is just another way of expressing our ideas simply with the person we adore from a group, it doesn’t necessarily mean we fantasize it to happen. 

Do you think art can be a medium for change?: Yes! I think that any idea from the mind that expresses emotion and inspiration visually or not, is considered an art. There’s a lot that goes into writing than what people think! Such as finding the creativity for metaphors in a story that will not only bring out emotion from the character and reader, but also a visual representation to symbolize the emotion. 

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?: Yes, I always get asks asking me when I’ll update, but it’s not too much of a bother because I know they’re just really excited for the next part or another set of work. 

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?: Not at all, I think I do a fairly good job at writing to the point where there’d be no misunderstandings. 

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?: No, I like to keep it private because I’d rather have them not tease or make fun of me for what I genuinely like to do. 

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?: That I literally love them all so much and I appreciate each and every one of them. I mean it from the bottom of my heart, they’re all so nice, welcoming, and supportive. It encourages me to write more! 

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?: Definitely go for it! You’ll never know until you try! There will be people who don’t like it, but those who truly love your writing will support you forever, will stick around, encourage you, and lift you up. Be confident in your writing, be confident that your brain came up with such an amazing plot/story and has woven so many things together to create it!

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey?: I do have a few mutuals that I talk to. One of them has read my story and given such good feedback, which I loved because I’m always looking for opportunities to grow as a writer. 

Pick a quote to end your interview with: “Throughout life people will make you mad, disrespect you and treat you bad. Let God deal with the things they do, cause hate in your heart will consume you too.” -Will Smith

BONUS K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

Interested in your very own episode of The Sunny Show? Find out how to apply HERE.

[stories-telling]

A Bump in the Road

Jacob Frye X F!OC (I don’t have an AC OC, so I just wrote 3rd person without name? Hope that’s okay.)

It's always the same.

There's a crash from the back of the train, then a loud curse and a few heavy footsteps that she can hear even from a few cars away. She sighs, but doesn't look up from her book. Jacob had a habit of making his entrances known. 

So she sits, and waits for him to burst through the door and crash his way through the train, as he always does.

But he doesn’t.

She waits, and waits, but he doesn’t come, and after a few minutes she lowers her book, brows furrowing as she listens; nothing. Silence reigns over the train, broken only by the familiar thrum of the engine and the clanking of metal parts. She sets her book aside as she stands, half-torn between worry and annoyance, hesitating for a second more before making her way toward the back of the train, feeling her anxiety rise as she moves from car to car. It's late enough that the train is deserted, and her eyes sweep over every darkened corner of the cars she passes through, looking for the slightest sign of Jacob - nothing.

Perhaps he'd left again already, she tells herself as she comes to stand at the threshold of the last wagon. Perhaps he'd only come for a piece of equipment, or a note left on the intel board, or maybe -

She gasps as the sound of breaking glass shatters through the silence, startling her, followed by a voice.

"Bloody… - Shit!"

The words are barely above a hiss, yet they seem as loud as thunder in the otherwise silent train's air. She takes a few quick steps inside the armory and finally finds Jacob, tucked away at the back of the car, keeping one hand pressed to his ribs while he rummages through a cupboard with the other, the glass of a smashed vial crunching beneath his boots.

"Where's that damned…" he starts, before he seems to realise her presence, slowly lowering his arm before turning around. He’s smiling, but the tense lines of his shoulders give him away - something is wrong.

“Didn’t expect to see anyone up at this hour,” he says, not quite managing to hide the strain in his voice as he unconsciously presses his palm harder against his side - she would have missed his wince had she not been watching him so closely. 

“Mr. Frye? Are you hurt?” she asks, stepping forward, and she sees him open his mouth to answer, a lie dancing on the tip of his tongue for a moment before he thinks better of it, lowering his head, his smile faltering.

“Just a scratch,” he says. “No need to worry.”

Despite her concern, she can’t help arching her brow at him, catching his gaze briefly as it flits around the room.

“Show me,” she says as she comes to stand next to him, nudging him aside so that she can reach the cupboard he’d been rifling through, pulling out what he had surely been looking for - a small bottle of disinfectant, a few bandages, and a needle and thread, placing them on the table next to her before turning to look at him.

“It’s nothing,” he replies drily, stepping away. He almost looks like a cornered animal, curled in on himself and ready to bolt. “I don’t - “

She reaches out, touching his arm, and he cuts himself off as he stiffens, seemingly almost ready to pull away.

“ Mr. Frye - Jacob,” she says, softly. “Please.”

He doesn’t answer, but she feels him relax slightly beneath her palm, and he allows her to step closer, coming to stand in front of him as he leans against the table behind him. She feels his eyes on her as his hand drops away from where he had been keeping it pressed against his ribs, revealing his wound - a long, deep gash that runs down from just under his arm to a little below his waist, staining his clothes an angry red. She frowns at the sight, but says nothing, simply reaching up to his shoulders to push his heavy coat off him; he shrugs it off with a smothered groan, looking up at the ceiling as she probes at the wound, a slight hitch in his breath the only sign of his discomfort. 

“Take off your waistcoat,” she says eventually, stepping away and looking up to meet his eyes - they are still turned upwards, away from her, the set of his jaw betraying his gritted teeth as he takes short, shallow breaths. “And your shirt.”

She’s certain that, had the circumstances been any different, she might have received a glib comment in return (it would not have been the first time); but, as it is, he obeys without a word, allowing himself a few pained grunts as his movements jostle the wound. She steps away, busying herself with the supplies she’d pulled from the cupboard as she listens to the rustling of fabric, unable to help a few covert looks in his direction. It is strange to see the usually jovial, nonchalant man so grim and silent - though she supposes being slashed at with a blade would get anyone into a less than stellar mood.

She turns back to him after a few moments, coming to stand in front of him again with a rag soaked in antiseptic and her needle and thread. She examines the wound again, but also can't help but notice the smattering of bruises and scrapes that litter his chest, shoulders and arms - something twists within her, in the pit of her stomach, and she wishes that she could help him more than the meager help she sometimes provides. She looks up to meet his eyes, and he looks at her this time, his eyes somehow softer than they’d been just a few minutes ago - she’s not quite sure what to make of it.

“Don’t move,” she says instead of allowing herself to think about it, and she presses the cloth to his wound. He hisses through his teeth, his hand instinctively shooting up to her shoulder as if to push her away, but he catches himself, and she almost jumps when she feels it at her waist instead, where it lingers for half a heartbeat before he brings it back down to his side. She tries to ignore the way the warmth of his palm lingers on her skin even through the layers of her clothes, instead focusing on dabbing at the wound a few more times before she puts it aside to start on the stitches. There’s no more protest from him, and he sits still as she stitches the wound shut with rapid, precise movements.

“You should be more careful, Mr. Frye,” she starts after a few minutes. There’s no reproach in her voice, only concern. She expects him to laugh and wave away her concerns, as he always does, but he gives a noncommittal hum. When she looks up at him for half a second in between stitches, she sees that his eyes are closed. He almost seems asleep. Looking at him like this, she can’t help but notice how tired he looks. Something twists inside her again - concern, sadness, fear? She can’t quite put a name on it.

“Always rushing in,” she continues in a whisper, as if for herself. “Never stopping to think.”

This time he does laugh, a faint chuckle that has her looking up at him again - there’s a small smile on his lips, and his eyes crack open to meet hers.

“You sound like my sister,” he sighs, half-mocking.

“Then perhaps you will accept that Ms. Frye may have a point?” she shoots back, and he shakes his head, closing his eyes again, though he’s still smiling.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She can’t help but huff out a laugh at that, both in amusement and disbelief, and silence settles over the train once more as she resumes her work. The stitches are finished before long, and she makes quick work of the bandages, dressing his wound with an expert hand.

“Done,” she finally says after a while, stepping away from him. She sees him stand carefully, hissing in discomfort as he straightens to his full height.

“You’ll have to rest for a few days, Mr. Frye,” she says as he shrugs his coat back on with a grunt before gathering the rest of his torn clothes. 

She expects protests and jokes, but instead she gets a smile, and there’s a spark in his eyes when he speaks.

“Long as you don’t tell Evie,” he says, conspiratorially, putting his hat back on his head.

She blinks in surprise, staring at him for a few seconds before she feels herself smile, extending her hand.

“I believe that’s fair,” she says, and he laughs as he reaches out to shake her hand, holding it for what feels like a few moments more than necessary.

“I’ll bid you goodnight, then,” he says when he lets go of her hand, flashing her one last roguish smile with a tip of his hat before he turns away to make his way toward his quarters at the front of the train. 

“Goodnight,” she replies, even as the warmth of his hand lingers on hers, and she smiles at nothing.

Right, so, this is a series of firsts. First fic on this blog, and first time writing Jacob *.*. I’ll be honest, I haven’t touched Syndicate in years so I hope this isn’t too far off the mark. @no-one-important-3​ I hope you enjoy.

[klaus-is-the-real-number-1]

This Is How It Feels (number five x reader)

A/N: i made it into a fic,, like a highschool au,, hope you enjoy like,, idk, u know them typical fics where its like ‘i dare you to graft them’ or ‘pretend to date’ and then then end up liking each other or,, i dunno. I got pure carried away sorry.(ok so i made some names up for people so, your best friend is: Beth and Beths older brother is: Dante) i havent proof read sorry :(

spazclaiire said: hii could i request headcanons or a fix of excuses five has used to hold your hand or ‘four times five had an excuse to hold your hand and the one time he went for it’ please? thank youu

words:3350

Books weighed down your arms as they spilled over the threshold of your carrying limits, they were heavy, a mix of ring binders and oversized textbooks were making you sway like a drunk man. People barging past in steady streams didn’t help your balancing act either, stumbling every few seconds hoping that the library got closer quicker. 

Swinging open the door to the library your eyes scan the room for the table you and your friends usually sit at and by ‘usually’ you actually mean every single break you get, whether its just for 5 minuets or the full hour you get for lunch or free periods. The table in question even had all your names written on the underside along with other random scribblings and doodles. You make eye contact with a few people on your table as you get closer.

“Y/n, I’ve got some tea to spill, and it involves you!” Beth excitably suggests. Beth always had some new tea to spill, she was a see all hear all person, it also helped that her older brother was in the year above and in the group of the schools self proclaimed ‘bad boys’. She always knows what they’re planning, the who, what, why and where, she had it down to a T.

Speaking of ‘T’, any tea involving you wasn’t good, there had been drama circulating about you before and it took long enough for that to die down. You sigh, hoping it’s got nothing to do with the group of ‘bad boys’. “Go on then, spill.”

“Five Hargreeves has his eyes on you.” Of course, Five was the year above and one of the smartest students in the entire school. The only reason he even knew who you were is because his best friend is Beth’s brother and you were in his AP physics. He was also classed as the fittest boy in school with the worst reputation yet the cleanest slate. 

“For god’s sake, why?” The last thing you wanted was for Five to actually care about who you were, he was a heart breaker, something that you just didn’t need.

“I’m not too sure, I haven’t heard much about the plan, but there is a plan so just be cautious. He’s probably after you because you’re fit.” You smile at her words. “Are you in the art building for lunch again?” You just nod in response.

You had been spending an increasing amount of time in the art buildings, it was just a soft and aesthetically pleasing environment to be in and it meant you’d actually get your work done. You could sit and draw for hours but with how hectic life was the art buildings was a safe getaway. So at lunchtime that’s where you found yourself, aimlessly painting the view out of the window, fields and trees and streams filled the canvas. You were in your own world, minding your own business. 

“Your painting is really pretty, but not as pretty as you.” There it was, not only half a day after being warned about Five Hargreeves he was already trying to chat you up. He was leant against a wall behind you, scanning your figure and the painting. “And I was here thinking you were just a brain and a pretty face.” It was a pitiful, low effort attempt and a half-arsed compliment.

“What do you want, Hargreeves?” It may of sounded harsh but you didn’t want to deal with his bad attempts at flirting.

“Harsh much,” He jokingly placed a hand over his heart. “Listen I need a favour, all you have to do is walk out of this building holding my hand and pretend to date me for about 2 days maybe.” A shockingly fake smile spread across his face as he held his hand out.

“So let me guess,” You tapped your finger on your chin, mockingly thinking. “I’ll pretend to date you, you’ll win some sort of bet and then the best part is when you tell everyone we shagged then you dumped me right after!” You returned his bittersweet fake smile. “I’m going to have to pass Hargreeves, I’d rather not be apart of one of your silly little games.” 

With a tut, he turned around to leave the block not before having the last word. “You’ll fall in love with me eventually y/n, they always do.” You could help but to scoff as he walked out of the room, he was too cocky, all the years he always had any girl he ever wanted to drop at his feet but not you.

Time ticked away slowly until it came to AP Physics, it was a brutal way to end the day often ending with being completely worn out. You were concentrating on rearranging the equations that needed to be used, it was going well until a piece of scrunched paper landed where you were writing. You simply brush it to the side and continue with your work, you had a faint idea who it was from seen as Five sat on the opposite side of your table of 4, ideal, you know.

“y/n.”  His foot playfully tapped yours, causing you to roll your eyes. “Open it.” 

So you did, only to be met with the more than classy words ‘my offer still stands ;)’ You couldn’t believe it, looking him in the eyes you pretended to ponder his decision, swiftly followed by tearing the note up and sliding it back over to him. Fives mouth hung open, you smugly go back to what you were working on. 

Five was relatively quite for the rest of the class, resulting in it going much quicker than it normally would. He would sometimes answer questions but other than that there was no more chew from Five. In a blink of an eye it was time to go home to rest and recuperate from a long day of lessons, to prepare for the exact same the next day, the same as you do every day.

Five paced around his room, he hadn’t lost a bet yet and he wasn’t going to start losing them now. It was a simple bet, make y/n fall for him. Five didn’t particularly want to follow through with this bet, it wasn’t fair on y/n seen as she hadn’t done anything wrong to Five. Dante had only made Five do the bet as he knew Five used to have a slight thing for y/n, it was almost comedically convenient that Dante’s younger sister was best friends with y/n, Dante couldn’t help himself whenever y/n was around his house with Beth to make a comment about it. But despite all this, he couldn’t lose the bet.

The next day, Five had a plan, he knew that in AP Physics the teacher was about to set a new project to be completed in pairs, so naturally he went straight to the teacher. “Sir, for that paired project I really think I should work with y/n, we’d work so well together.” He practically begged his teacher.

“I’ll think about it Five, but if I do place you together, please make an effort to improve your behaviour. It’s your last year and you have such great potential, don’t waste it.” The spiel was met by a roll of Fives eyes followed by a muttered ‘sure’. Five regularly got this talk all the time, everyone says that he needs to focus his academic knowledge into something, anything, but he’s just not motivated by anything. Everything had either been invented or is being invented so there was just no point in trying.

The weekend drew closer with every ticking minuet, teasing you with every small movement of the hands, counting down like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were sat in your last lesson, AP Physics, took your seat and took out your supplies. You lazily observed as the rest of your class walked in, you gave and received a few smiles to and from various classmates until last person the last person in, Five Hargreeves, he waltzed into the room with confidence oozing from him. 

Before Five had a chance to speak the teacher was already up and writing the title on the board ‘electromagnetism’. As soon as the words appeared on the board a collective groan of despair was heard throughout the room. 

“So,” The teacher started, clearly enjoying the sudden drop in mood. “I know how much you all love electromagnetism, so what were going to do is work in pairs to create a powerpoint and a poster covering all the aspects of electromagnetism!” The room livened up a bit at the prospect of working with a friend, that was until the teacher continued. “I have put you in pairs, so listen in as I call the pairs out and then move next to your new physics partner.”

People moved about the room to sit next to their project partner, you listened closely to hear who you’d be partnered with this time. “Y/n?” “Sir.” “You’re with Five Hargreeves.” You see Fives face light up as he slides his books across the desk the the seat next to yours, the smug grin never leaving his face once. 

You begin to write down what you had to do for the presentation, feeling Fives eyes stare into the side of your head. “So over the weekend can you do as much research on magnetic flux, flux density and field strength and I’ll cover BH curves and permeability, does that sound good?”  

“Why don’t we just meet up over the weekend and make a start together?” He nudged your elbow, your pen run up your page, ruining the word you were writing.

“Can’t. I’m working all weekend.” Which was met with a small ‘o’ from Five, he turns way and messily scribbles on a sheet of paper and then slides it back over to you. 

“Well if you can’t meet up this weekend then at least have my number.” You slightly smile and fold the piece of paper up and slip it into your notebook. Before Five could slip in another word the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. You say your goodbyes and begin the walk home, it was a fairly long walk home maybe reaching around 30 minuets but it was always a pretty sight to walk through the woods during the spring, pink petals from the cherry blossoms littered the ground, colouring the dull world waking up from winter.

Once home you stared at the crumpled paper with Fives number on it, also noticing the smaller scribbled snapchat username. It felt like a smarter decision just to add him on snap for now but save his number in your contacts, just in case. As soon as you added him he accepted within a matter of seconds, followed by a picture message ‘hey x’ it read. You simply send a picture back of your blank wall and place your phone down, you let a small laugh as your phone buzzes again. 

Sitting at your desk, you pulled out your books and your laptop to make a start on the physics work. You just couldn’t help but check what Five had responded, clicking his name you were met with his face in a pout. You respond with a picture of you sticking your tongue out, which got a response quickly. This stream of photos carried on until the early hours of the morning not even realising the time and that in a mere 6 hours you had to go to work, you send ‘night’ to Five and place your phone on the side, a small smile on your face as you drifted to sleep.

Five laid awake, considering calling the bet off all together. Hours of talking to y/n only felt like minuets, Five wanted to get to know y/n on his own terms not on the terms of a bet. He shouldn’t of accepted the bet to begin with, his competitiveness got the best of him. 

The weekend went far to quickly for your liking, mixed with work and school work. Five was also non-stop messaging you throughout the weekend, he found a way to talk to you about everything and anything, often sending long video messages of him walking round his giant house, you could always hear the shouts of his siblings in the background.

Monday nights were the one night of the week that you enjoyed, Monday was movie night at Beth’s house. The night usually went that straight after school you’d take over the living room, bringing out the blankets and extra pillows, you would both then decide what films to watch and what food to get. Once that was all done you’d both bunker down and start the movies, getting ready for a long night.

About halfway through the first movie Five and Dante slowly made their way into the main room, stealing some of your pizza before sitting down on the sofa to join you. Five took a seat next to you while Dante sat on an armchair, Five pulled your blanket so it was covering both of you, leaning back into the sofa you could feel physically how close he was to you and it was driving you mad.

Beth caught your eyes and wiggled her eyebrows, you responded by sending a cheeky wink with a joking smile. As the night moved on and the movies continued, you and Five slowly moved closer throughout the movie marathon, it couldn’t of been helped, you were both like two magnets. 

The final scene in The Breakfast Club was playing, both Beth and Dante had already fallen asleep, you felt Fives hand touch the side of yours. You slightly push your hand back against his, welcoming the warmth as his touch, your reaction invited him to link his fingers with yours. Light from the TV bounced off the features of his face, defining his angled lines of his face, you couldn’t deny that he was handsome, very handsome. 

The screen of the TV turned dark as you used the remote to switch it off, a dim glow of the moon shone through the open windows, the moment was romantic, overly romantic but it was the sleepiness making you ignore the voice that was screaming that he didn’t mean it, he had an end game and you couldn’t forget that. 

You pulled your hand from Five and lean over to Beth and lightly shake her shoulders. “Beth, its 20 past 1, I think it’s time to go to bed.” She responds by making some unclear noises and began to sit up, you smile and stand up pulling her with you. You spare a glance back at Five before continuing upstairs, unable to stop the tingling feeling in your hand.

Eventually, you had to meet up with Five to work on the physics project, you both hadn’t spoken since Monday night. Well not exactly, Five had been messaging you a lot but you just hadn’t been responding because all you could think about was if he had a possible end game. You didn’t want to get played by Five.

You heard soft steps getting closer, you look up to meet Fives eyes. “Hey.” He spoke in a soft voice in the quiet library. He pulled a chair out from besides you and sat down, pulling his textbooks out of his bag. You both made small talk during your work, it was a nice atmosphere in the library, a nice atmosphere between you and Five with no looming pressure after what happened Monday night.

A breeze drifted through the large room, causing you to break out in goosebumps and shiver. You decided that morning that you could just wear a T-shirt with no jacket as the sun was out, how wrong you were when dark clouds swarmed over. 

“Do you want to borrow my hoodie?” Five asked, but he was already taking it off to give to you.

“Oh no Five it’s okay, it’s my own fault I forgot my jacket. Anyways what would you wear?” Despite how cold you were you really didn’t want to borrow Fives hoodie, he would be just as cold as you were.

“No please y/n, take it. I’ve got an extra jacket in my locker anyways.” He pushed his hoodie into your hands. You could tell he was probably lying about it but you sheepishly took his hoodie and put it on, it was warm and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit. 

You mutter your thanks, a warm flush coming over your face as you continue to work on your project until your next lesson. Once the bell rang, you both left to opposite directions, you completely forgot that you had Fives hoodie on until you sat next to Beth in english to be passed a scrap piece of paper with scribbled writing ‘That’s not your hoodie???’ you smile at the sheet and just write back ‘Five’s’ 

You didn’t see Five for the rest of the day until you got a message during the last lesson. ‘meet me near math class at the end of the day x’ It wasn’t a question, he was telling you. You send an ‘ok’ and continue with your lesson, constantly distracted by the ticking arms of the clock, counting down it’s last minuets.

As the clock strikes 3 you make your way to the math department, you were fighting against the tide as everyone rushed to get out of school. As the crowed begun to thin you saw Five standing outside the maths classroom, standing hoodie-less. He made his way towards you, smile present on his face.

“Where’s this jacket that was meant to be in your locker?” He just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

“I mean my hoodie looks better on you than it did on me so I don’t mind.” You smile at him and begin your decent through the school. “So I was thinking we could just like, go for a walk? It’s just nice spending time with you.”

You both aimlessly wandered around town until finding a small cafe to reside in when the weather started to turn, Five had a black coffee and you had a hot chocolate. The room was filled with noise from others in the cafe and also from the outside world that couldn’t reach you in your own little world.

“Five, not to sound daft or anything but are you still trying to do this for the bet or are you being genuine?” You didn’t want to sound harsh but you were still unsure if this was genuine or just an oscar winning act.

“y/n,” He reached over and took your hand. “I called the bet off just before Monday night, as soon as I came to the school and saw you I knew straight away I wanted to be with you.” He ran his thumb gently over your knuckles. “I know you wont trust me right away but I want to make you trust me, I want you to feel the same way about me as I do for you.”

“Okay.”

All it took was that one word to kickstart your time with Five. It started small, handholding any chance he got, he seemed to always need to be close, holding and hugging you. He was so affectionate and almost touched starved, begging like a stray puppy. Five slowly gained your trust and love for him, he had an infinite amount of hoodies and oversized T-shirts, truth be told you were pretty sure Five just loved to see you in his clothes.

You and Five were cuddled up on your bed, he was running his fingers through your hair as light cut through the curtains, lighting the room in a heavenly glow. Five placed a kiss on the side on your head, pulling you closer as he did. 

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you.” You smile and lean into his embrace.

“I think I’m in love with you too, Five.”

[weirdponytail]

HUZZAH! Upcoming drabbles/attempted drawing sets for Huntik stuff!

OKAY I told y’all that traveling helps spark my creative juices and I did not lie! 

Oddly enough though, this time it sparked drawing juices, which is mildly annoying because drawing takes me days longer than writing. 

Anywho, I wanted to keep you all up to snuff on what I’ll be up to. See, a while back I saw some really cool artworks on tumblr where someone (and I’ll link them when I find them again) had drawn ‘pictures’ of the Huntik team in the actual style of the show and had them done out like Facebook posts/snapchats sort of that the team shared. I love it/them, and when I went down to the beach this Thanksgiving it got me thinking ‘hey! It would be really cool if I could draw snapchat style story thing (I’ve never actually used or even SEEN a snapchat app in person so I’m pretty clueless to most of it besides what I see of memes) of the Team at the beach on actual holiday’ and then, because it’s me and I haven’t touched it much for ages and since hey, I’m there, I thought ‘ZOMG WHAT IF TEAM FLORIDA INVITED THE MAIN TEAM TO THE BEACH AND TEAM FLORIDA SHOWED UP AFTER THEM?!’

So in my usual style I gathered up a good pound or so of seashells and bits of junk while muttering snapchat labels/titles/lines(?) to go with each picture that only make sense if you can see my mental image of what I want to do with each line/how they came about. Naturally I started typing these one liners out on my notes app as I walked back to the hotel and totally didn’t walk into a light post in full view of a diner’s window, but good news is that I’m gonna show you these one liners and later add more stuff to it via reblogs. I’ll try my best to add some understandable description to ones that I can describe well enough. :3

Also, for clarification: these probably won’t be actually done in drawings. I’ll likely give up on them and just write a fic as best I can around them. Currently I’m trying to clean house because dad has some interview guy coming over to evaluate his new life situation with his injuries for a trial or somm’at, so it’s wild here right now. I can see the carpet in my room. It’s really impressive. 

Anyway, here’s the oneliners!! :D Cheers, Seekers!

Lok’s Phone (in general order of arrival):

BEACH TIIIME!! (General shot of a beach.)

Um okay apparently Sophie can surf?! (Sophie chillin on a board past the breakers waiting for a wave)

OOOOOH DAAAANG SHE SHRED! (one of those vid clips of Sophie doing some board trick or something) 

Cherit’s going to be King of the Beach. Den and Harrison are his serfs. (Cherit sitting on a mound of sand while Den and Harrison are apparently moulding a wall around it)

Zhalia, Queen of Sass, kindly tells me that she isn’t in the mood for beach fun. :) (Zhalia lounging on a beach chair in shorts and bikini top and sunglasses, giving Lok the finger)

Oh nevermind. Apparently she’s interested now. (Dante casually walking down the sand as he takes his shirt off. Zhalia’s in the background tipping her sunglasses down like ‘oh daaaayyyum get me somma dat’)

RUN!! (shakey clip of sand going by as Lok apparently sprints away screaming ‘DANTE THREW HER IN THE WATER WE’RE GOING TO DIE!’)

Bwahaha she used Earthtide on him! (Dante buried up to his neck in sand looking sheepish as Zhalia gives him a look with crossed arms)

Team Florida in da house! (pic of station wagon with doors all open and Team Florida unloading)

(To be Continued...)

Sophie’s Phone (no general order this time):

Great day for some waves! (pic of board upright in the sand in front of the waves)

And Zhalia wonders why we still have some trust issues... (Pic of Lok’s bare back as he apparently snoozes face down on a beach towel. A particular someone has written on his back in sunscreen “Kick me, I’m Irish.”)

Team Florida has arrived!! (selfie of a smiling/laughing Sophie with Ket on one side of her with a wild smile and her tongue out flashing a sideways peace sign and Cor on the other wearing a fake beard and plastic viking-style horned helmet with both arms up)

Ket surfs too!! :gasp/surprised emoji and :D emoji: (Ket running out to the water with a board over her head)

I have just been informed that Ket can’t actually surf... (Clip of Ket managing to do an entirely unplanned double front flip as she’s thrown off her board into the water)

She tries very hard. (short clip montage of Ket’s many fails trying to get past the breakers and her various falls of the board)

Marko and Dante are trying to out Zen each other!! :cry laughing emoji: (Slow mo clip of Marko and Dante doing martial arts forms side by side with the waves behind them)

Ket’s growing pile of...stuff? (pic of a small pile of shells, sticks, and various bits of what could be trash next to Mama Cat’s beach chair)

!!! Gareon?? :cry laughing emoji: (clip of a very content looking Gareon floating in the shallows and spraying sea salt from his nose a la galapagos iguana style)

You see that dot? That is what happens when Dante says ‘Powers are okay!’ for beach volleyball and and immediately serves with Dragonfist. :rolling eyes emoji: (Short clip of small dot of color in the distance being swept away by the sea. Halfway through there’s an awkward cough in the background and Dante says ‘Oops.’ Zhalia chimes in with a ‘Nice going babe.’)

(To be Continued)

Den’s Phone: 

ALL HAIL KING CHERIT! (pic of intricately detailed meter high sandcastle with Cherit smuggly sitting at the top and Harrison worshiping at the base)

Aaaay, Team Florida! Mama Cat Lady, Wild Child, Viking Man and Zen Master 2000 finally here! (Station wagon pulling up to the deserted parking area)

THEY BROUGHT TBOY! (wildly shaky clip of a streak of white and black as TBoy tackles Den while he records)

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN TANLINES!” (Clip of Ket whipping off her shirt)

Welcome to this year’s World Championship of Pale and Skinny! Today’s category is ‘HOW THE HELL HAVE YOU NOT TANNED AT ALL?!’ (A shirtless Harrison and Cor side by side doing muscle poses)

Judge Zhalia performing the customary Paper Test! (A piece of white paper is held up against Harrison and Cor’s arms. There isn’t much of a color difference!)

OMG MAMA ATTRACTED DOLPHINS! (clip of dolphin pod playing near shore)

Dun dun... (pic of viking helmet)

Dun dun... (pic of fake beard)

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun BWADABWAAA! BWADABWAAA!! (pic of strange looking kayak with...small viking shields attached to the sides and a dragon sculpture at the front??)

DundundundundUN DUN DUN DUN DUN! (clip of Cor vigorously and comically paddling out wearing his viking helmet, fake beard and in the kayak outfitted to look quite like a viking longboat)  

(To be Continued...)

There’s more but right now I need to get back to cleaning. Cheers mates!! :D

[ninjagoat]

Notes on Supergirl 3x14

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

I've been annoyed with the show for a while now. Season three came out of the gate with four solid eps, and then draaaagged for another seven; before finally putting things back in order: slamming a season's worth of Lena's 'development' into reverse so she can actually have her own worldview and agenda once again; giving the Legion a hidden agenda so they actually have some narrative juice; giving Alex and Kara a genuine ideological conflict for the first time since... I can't remember, and actually having a plan for the World-killers because of it; and, important to me especially, the re-emergence of Winn as a recognised problem-solver.

Which brings us to 3x14, a MASSIVE episode for Winn, and, in terms of scale, a massive episode in general: the two major action sequences are of a kind you'd expect from a season finale; they've landed a *recent* Academy Award Nominee for a guest star; there's a frank discussion of later-life mental illness, and an insight into J'onn's specific attitude toward his adopted race; and a hilarious sequence of our heroes just... hanging out.

In short, in just a few episodes (which, by sheer coincidence, would all have finished being scripted *after* AK was suspended and fired for being a mediocre sex-pest)... they fixed the show.

THEY FIXED THE DAMN SHOW.

Notes below the cut (it’s a long post this week):

- "People being addressed as soldiers going into battle before actually just trying something fun and silly" is one of my favourite tropes, and that look Winn and Kara exchange is one of the best indicators of their long-standing friendship we've seen in a long time (Winn is, of course, Kara's best friend. You many have heard her give statements to the contrary. THESE ARE LIES).

- The choice to have the characters, all played by actors who can sing, do 'karaoke voice' instead of their actual voices is a good one. Having Kara do Beastie Boys side-steps the whole 'we've heard her sing' problem; J'onn and Mr. J are both wonderfully appalling; and Alex letting the lyrics of her ballad run on as she stops to drink is, as the kids say, a Mood (I'll come back to Mon-El and Winn at the end).

- THERE ARE *STILL* NO ALIENS AT THE ALIEN BAR. WHAT HAPPENED TO KEVIN? OR BRIAN?

- James's constant need for validation crashing against Lena's particular brand of emotional - and literal - unavailability is a good choice; we've not really seen James's interest in Lena manifest outside of her needs until now, and it's the first time he's had a relatable problem since 1x06. And pairing him up with Mon-El for this scene - who's having his own issues right now - is nice.

- Speaking of which, Imra's telepathy: is this the show telling us she definitely *doesn't* have mind-control powers, or that Mon-El - currently not the most reliable expert on the Legion - doesn't *know* she has mind-control powers?

- "FELLOW DRUNKS!"

- I'll admit, James was my least favourite option for who could be Winn's emotional support in this episode, given his long history of being really quite bad at it; but in this first scene, he's actually pretty good, providing Winn with the avenues he needs to avoid the old-school masculinity coping methods he's trying to use instead.

- Winn making ABSOLUTELY SURE that his Winslow's dead, even before they tried to put him in the ground, is on point.

- Mary. MARY. The writers knew they had Tony-award-winning Steppenwolf alum Laurie Metcalf on board, and it SHOWS. She's nervous and tentative, but she's also forthright; she takes over the space when she feels she ought to (a lot of her funnier asides could have been put in Cat Grant's mouth with no problem), and physically, tangibly awkward when she doesn't; and Metcalf runs through the gear changes as only a pro of her stature can. In her first scene, she's anxious, yes, and she's having difficulty separating Winn from the little boy she left behind; but it's also clear that THIS IS THE HAPPIEST DAY OF HER LIFE, even if it isn't her son's. Mary is a catalyst for Winn's pain, but has a whole existence outside of it. That's good writing, that is.

- Speaking of Winn's pain... DEAR. LORD. That story goes toe-to-toe with any crappy parent story you've ever heard (and blows all of Lena's solipsistic crap out of the water); and Jeremy Jordan, having done so much with so little every week, completely sells that this is a story he's been waiting two decades to tell, and how being left alone with no-one to be *except* his father's son absolutely broke him.

- The Flying Monkeys sequence is the best action scene this show's ever done. Better than Reign. Better than Crossfire. And again, Mary and Winn: every time they're not focused on the time they've spent apart, it's almost like they were never apart at all.

- Winn calling out James for suggesting he forgive Mary is absolutely on point; and James admitting that he was a selfish, sulky little brat after his Dad died as an argument of how it could have been just as bad if she'd stayed is interesting (James is making it up to her now, though, by... never going home for a single holiday. Ever. Still, baby steps). His argument will also end up applying, subtextually, to his relationship with Lena; stop being ungrateful for the time she's not there for you, and just be happy for the time that she is. It's what she needs you to do. She's got her own stuff going on.

- "He doesn't always get the credit, but he keeps us going around here." Kara's gentle tribute to her friend (her BEST friend) and the adaptive, outside-the-box thinking that's been keeping everyone alive for years is wonderful; not just for what she says, but for how comfortable a rapport she has with Mary, while never forgetting that being told how great her son is by *Supergirl* is as good, if not better, than hearing it from the President herself (and if Mary needs that... it could be arranged).

- On a downer note, anytime a show starts talking about a side character as the "heart of the team" or somesuch... it's usually not a good sign for that character.

- I'm not ready to go into Mr. J's illness yet. I have a personal relationship to stories like this, and I can't write about it in this format. But Carl Lumbly is still ABSOLUTELY the best.

- And I'm not the person to get into J'onn's opinion on his own blackness; except to say, in a week when David Harewood met with British MPs to discuss the 'accidental' deportations of the Windrush migrants, this is a BIG DEAL.

- Since I'm doing asides into side plots: Mon-El and Kara. His apology - agenda-free this time - is honest and heart-felt, and his full disclosure about *why* he's apologising now raises interesting questions: at what point is this honesty defined as over-sharing? Where is the line drawn between being 'open about your feelings' and 'demanding emotional labour from others'? Kara has a firm boundary - they are *not* going to talk about his marriage - and he respects that. But should he have told her about it in the first place, even if it does lead in to the new information about the World-killers? I've said before: Supergirl is the only show with a significant male audience that, whether you believe it should or not, actually tackles questions of what healthy masculinity *should* be (albeit with varying degrees of success), and it's good that they're keeping it up.

- Mary's story is not only an important reminder that the men who commit mass-murder often begin by terrorising the women in their own homes; but also, in the context of Childish Things, addresses Winn's misunderstanding of his own fears. Winn has always believed that his father was a good person, until one day, when he just wasn't; and Winn believed that any time he didn't keep a lid on his own anger, any time that he might use that part of himself to stand up and say 'no' against those that would hurt him, the same would happen to him. But Winslow Sr. wasn't a good person. It took a long time for his anger to consume him, a long time for his battles against perceived slights to affect anyone except Mary. Winn has little to worry about.

- And her decision to take the gun and take on Toywoman(?) alone is immediate, consistent, and believable. She's been without her son for twenty years to protect his life. He will NOT be taken from her now.

- Delightful stunt-casting for Toywoman, by the way (If you haven't watched The Silence Of The Lambs recently... go do that).

- The second action sequence: not as good as the flying monkeys, but still has some banging moments, as the 'heroes' drop out to handle various contraptions to leave Winn to rescue Mary.

- Speaking of contraptions: "Cloth Magic." Comics Mon-El fans, that's got to feel good.

- How many times did Mary have to sit through New Hope when Winn was a kid? I'm guessing 'more than ten'.

- Winn being offended at the idea that he's going to be killed with something as pedestrian as a *firearm* is the absolute business, and annoying because it's a beat I'd already gotten it noted down for my own fic series.

- "You haven't just survived, you have EXCELLED."

- Mon-El *butchering* a song now synonymous with a TV show that *LIVES* in the kind of masculinity he's been used to deconstruct (again, with varying degrees of success) is a solid piece of work. As is his apology.

- Okay, this episode isn't exactly what we all wanted for Winn. No-one has hugged him. No-one has told him they love him. Kara has not re-iterated that he is, in fact, her best friend (because he is). He's not designing the Valor suit. We didn't get to hear him sing. And his twenty-year-long trauma of being alone in the world is resolved a lot more speedily that it really ought to be. But that doesn't matter. Those are indulgences, and that's pretty much what fan-fiction and the Miscast performance videos are for.

    What this episode *does* do is reiterate the show's mission statement once again: We, as a people, are at our best when we depend on each other. Forgiving when we can. Understanding when we can't. And more than anything else, simply being there for each other. Whether it's supporting each other through a personal crisis, or through the decline of a loved one; teaching each other new skills, or helping to mend a beloved outfit; or even, sometimes, just having the courage or shamelessness to perform karaoke with your mum; the same truth remains:

    WE ARE STRONGER TOGETHER.

- Which is why it's perfect that the show end on Lena. Alone. Keeping the truth from the people she's closest to. She hasn't told James. She won't tell Kara. She's just there, trapped inside the box in which she's imprisoned her oldest friend, with no-one else there to help or to guide her. For all her claims that Kara Danvers is her hero... ultimately, the only person she will ever truly depend on is herself.

   And it's all going to go horribly, horribly wrong.

-LyraWatch: I'm bringing it to a close. It's now been eighteen episodes, and nary a mention of if they're still together or where she's gone. It's so very unlikely that she'll be brought up again.

-LenaWatch: 14 episodes (record high: 16). Most likely at this point, Winn and Lena will have a scene at some point after it's been revealed she's been working on Sam (and has probably made things worse); and Winn will, for the third time, have to help bail her out of the war-zone-like situation she'll have created through her own hubris.

[poppyssupergirl]

It Wasn’t Meant to Be a Love Letter

This is for Kim, @hypnobyl , who is super great and a superb writer and it is their b-day!!!! I hope your time in Florida is super great yo!! 

May this silly little b-day fic brighten your day, just a lil :D

Also, thank you to @the-queen-of-the-light for betaing the first 3 sections, you da bae!! 

The complete story is below the cut, but you can also read this on AO3 

Cat doesn't hide her birthday, not really. She just doesn't find it professional to celebrate it on company time. There was far too much to do before worrying about her birthday.

However, nearly every CatCo employee receives a signed birthday card from their esteemed boss. Kara's got all of the birthdays right in front of her, in a calendar.

And Kara's looked, multiple times, but Cat's birthday isn't there. She's done digging on the internet, she's even looked at Cat's Wiki page and even there the date changes every few days.

Heck, maybe Cat's changing it because Kara just can't find the right date.

She's there, again, prepping a card for Cat to sign, when it really hits her. She's been Cat's assistant for well over a year and she still doesn't know Cat's birthday. Kara'd gotten a card on her arrival-to-Earth day, hand-picked by Cat, but she still doesn't know Cat's birthday!

Carter. Carter is her only option. Lois might know but… the things she would owe the woman.

Kara clicks her pen and pushes back from her desk. She knows Carter’s nanny. She can definitely get another evening with the boy. She snatches the card off her desk and waits as the last of the board members exit Cat’s office.

Cat doesn’t look too haggard and there’d been no yelling, but either way, signing the card will brighten her mood. It always does. It’s kind of cute really. Big, bad boss enjoying the little moments where she can brighten her ‘minion’s’ days.

She can’t really wipe the smile that the thought triggers off her face, so, instead, she just smiles all the wider and walks into Cat’s office. Cat gives her the signature eyebrow raise, but she just hands the card over.

“Here’s the card, is there anything else you need right now, Ms. Grant?” She bounces on her toes. She just can’t help it.

“No, not right now. Just make sure I have the layouts from advertising by four.” Her pen glides across the card, her usual flourish giving the whole process an air of elegance. She’s rather beautiful to watch. She holds out the card and Kara reaches to take it. “What has you so bouncy on this fine Wednesday, Sunny Danvers?”

Ah, whoops, but oh well. “Just a new project, Ms. Grant!” Her eyes trail to the card and really, Cat’s handwriting is magnificent.

Kim H. Nobyl

The name swirls under the printed ‘Happy Birthday’ with Cat’s own signature under that. And, oh, Cat is in a good mood; she’s used her extra fancy pen.

She doesn’t press for any more explanation, just waves Kara out the door. It’s for the best, Kara has lots to do now. She needs to call the nanny and arrange a day with Carter… and also figure out how to get Carter to tell her what Cat’s birthday is.

Well, food would work on her…

It’s about three months until she can finagle her own, Cat’s, and Carter’s schedule to where she and Carter have an afternoon alone. Cat thinks she’s running errands… technically it’s not a lie. Not really.

Cat just deserves something nice, she does! Cat's quite nice under her prickly exterior and her eyes are always so gentle. This will be good for her… it’s a white-lie, right? She’s heard from Alex that those aren’t bad.

Yeah, a white-lie.

Carter walks over to her when she waves. They’ve interacted before, just not a lot. He’s a smart kid and maybe she can convince him that her cause is worthy.

“Hi, Carter! I came instead of your nanny, sorry for the surprise, but I’m here to spend the afternoon with you!” She puts on her best smile but Carter just nods. That’s… well… kind of to be expected. He’s a shy kid.

“Okay then, the car’s right over here.” She leads him away from the school and he remains silent. “How were classes? Did you learn anything new today?”

She gets another shrug and a mumbled, “Plants follow sunshine.” Well… that’s something to work with, right? Better than nothing at least.

“Oh yeah!” She plops down in the backseat next to him and smiles at Raeni, the only driver she trusted to keep this mission secret. “It has something to do with water right?”

Carter turns toward her a little, his shoulders relaxing back and oh, he’s such a good kid. “Yeah, the cell walls use water pressure to grow toward the sun.”

No wonder Cat’s so enamored with him.

“Really?” There weren’t many plants on Krypton, but Earth science always fascinated her. Botany though… it’s not that plants are boring, but, how could she be interested in plants when there were birds around? “How does the plant know where the sun is?”

Carter lights up a little more and oh no, this boy, he’s truly his mother’s son. Adorable.

“Well, there are little receptors in the plant that take sunlight in and turn it into a chemical that…”

She’s fifteen wiki articles deep before Carter is satisfied with their explanations on botany. It’s nearly five in the evening and Kara’s stomach is being rude at the moment. Honestly, if it could just calm down, that’d be great.

Carter laughs and ouch, ouch, but he takes her hand and leads her to the kitchen so all’s forgiven pretty quickly. Quicker when she realizes that Carter’s pulling take-out menus from the drawer he’s just opened.

“Pizza or Chinese?” He glances up and golly, this kid’s a keeper.

“Both?” She shrugs and Carter rolls his eyes. That’s far too much like his mother, and gosh, he’s got Cat’s eyes too. Gorgeous.

“You’re calling it in then.” And that same bargaining that quickly turns to commands… he’s learned from the best.

She reaches for her phone and Carter points to the circled items on both menus. The line clicks through to-

“Hello, this is National Pizza, what can I do for you?” and she nods to Carter before replying.

“Hi, I’m ordering for delivery to the Grant residency.” Carter trundles off as the woman on the other side of the line forgoes her ‘we don’t deliver speech’ in favor of the 200 percent tip Cat always sends back.

She hears the soft ‘shhh’ of water running and good, she doesn’t even have to convince him of a shower. That’s always nice. Now, for the best potstickers in the whole city…

“So, how’d you convince Nan to take the day off? And why did you?” Carter’s got half a slice of pizza shoved into his mouth and it’s the first truly disgusting thing Kara’s seen from him.

She coughs, because, uh, why would he think that? Her eyes must say her question well enough because this… what is he? 12? 13? 47? year-old rolls his eyes again and Kara’s pretty sure he thinks she’s dumb.

“Nan never takes off unless mom asks her to or it’s her kids’ birthdays.” Yeah, he definitely thinks she’s dumb, ouch. He crams another slice of pizza into his mouth, and she must wince because he grins at her and, ew, ew that makes it so much worse, ew.

“Uhm, ew, and well…” He’s probably going to find it out anyway. Plus, how is she going to get him to not tell his mother about Kara being here? “Okay, so, y’know your mom, right?”

O-kay, that’s definitely Cat Grant’s child. Wow, and she thought she had laser vision.

“Okay, yeah, so, anyway. I can’t find her birthday.” His look darkens and she backtracks, raising her hands to placate him. “Not her birth year! Just the day! See, well, she gives cards to all her employees, and it’s actually really sweet. Even though she pretends to be mean, she’s really not. But the point is, she even got me a card! And usually I get the card for people and take it for her to sign, but she got me one on her own which is really nice, especially since I hadn’t even been her employee for very long so I wanted to get her a card or maybe like, a little gift or something to show my appreciation because she can be hard to work for but she’s also really great and kind and inspiring so I wanted to, y’know, get her a birthday card like she did for me….”

Carter’s just looking at her. That’s the same stare that Cat gives her. Oh, it’s just as disquieting. Why are Grants like this?

“So, I need her birthday for that… which is why I wanted to talk with you… not that! Not that the rest of our day wasn’t nice! I’m not trying to use you to get to your mom! Or… oh no, that’s kind of exactly what I’m doing. Oh no, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry. I can try to find her birthday elsewhere, I just wanted to get the date right.” Oh she’d royally messed up, oh golly, he’d probably kick her out and-

“It’s April 24th.”

Oh? “Oh? Oh. Oh, okay.” She blinks and he looks like he’s holding back laughter and that’s just what she needs, fantastic, a 13-year-old laughing at her. Alex will never let her live this down. And- “Shit, that’s next week.” Oh crap, golly -darn “I mean, crud! I meant crud! Don’t curse, it’s really rude!”

Carter laughs, head back and, grand, now he really is laughing at her. But Kara can't help her own laugh. This 13-year-old with far too much sass, goodness.

She has seven days to decide what to get for Cat. She takes six of those seven.

It's… difficult. There's nothing she can get for Cat that Cat can't just go out and buy. So, she makes something instead.

Maybe it's dumb but… well, it just sort of fits Cat because Cat loves what she does and loves what she's built so? Kara can't help but agree; Cat's done amazing things and she's an amazing person.

But the small, wrapped present in her hands feels so, so underwhelming. The card's fine, a basic Happy Birthday with Kara's signature and a small note wishing Cat a nice day. She's just nervous because Cat might get angry?

Or hate it?

But she still leaves the card and wrapped canvas on Cat's desk while she's at a meeting. She keeps it discrete, of course, no need to draw attention to something Cat wants kept on the down-low. It wouldn't be professional at all if she went about making a scene.

She places the package in the middle of Cat's deck. But no, it's not that important. Not that Cat isn't important, just that the present isn't that important. So maybe to the side a little… yes, just beside the layouts for the opening of the new high school next week.

Golly, why the butterflies? It's just a small painting. A painting of CatCo at high noon, the sun shining over the multitude of glass windows and CatCo is beautiful and powerful, just like it's creator. So the painting fits, yeah.

But it isn't as realistic as some of the paintings Cat could go out and buy… but, no. No, it's a nice painting, it really is and Kara shouldn't be doubting herself like this. She should trust Cat. Trust that Cat might just appreciate the thought?

Yeah. Yeah and maybe find something to eat because her stomach really needs to settle.

“No, Brian, I’m not following another one of your ponzi schemes. Now out with you.”

Welp, there she is. Kara scuttles back to her desk, standing to see if Cat needs anything. She gets a distracted wave as Cat answers a call on her cell. She won’t need anything for a while then…

Oh, except the edited version of Snapper’s newest updates! Woops, should have gotten that earlier.

Cat makes it to her desk and flops in her chair, ah, the phone call isn’t a pleasant one. Not that Kara would ever eavesdrop, just, if it’s Carter, Cat’s always so light in her movements. She should get Cat some water.

Cat’s fingers ghost over the layouts and skip to the letter, sitting on the covered canvas.

Oh golly.

Cat finishes her phone call and Kara can’t move now. She doesn’t want to attract attention. Oh golly, those butterflies are back. She can’t help but watch though, Cat’s curious look is… cute, really.

Oh golly, Cat’s cute. Oh but no, she’s not just cute, she’s gorgeous.

Oh no.

No. No.

Her fingers peel back the envelope and oh, she’s so graceful and her eyes flick over Kara’s handwriting and a tiny, soft- oh gosh, so soft- smile spreads over her face and her lips are so-

No.

No, Rao, no.

Her hands cover the canvas and oh gods above, the ocean is pounding around the building. There’s definitely got to be a problem with the cooling system. That can’t be a sound a heart can make.

The paper slips off the canvas and her lips part and all the air rushes from the room. Her eyes rove over the painting, the strokes in fine grey and gold, and her smile can’t be kept tamped down. Though the muscles twitching in her cheeks show how hard she’s trying and those green, green eyes that can swallow space and time and -

Oh shit.

Cat looks up at her and blinks and Kara breathes in so sharply she’s pretty sure Winn hears her. She swallows but those eyes are still staring at her and her mouth is moving and…

Thank you.

Oh.

Oh, all the weight of the world dropping from her shoulders couldn’t make her feel like this. Golly, the butterflies are gone and there’s just tingling through her whole system. She tries to squelch her smile, especially when Winn asks what’s going on but…

Golly, wa-pow, indeed.

You can also find this on AO3