#and (this is a call out. sorry grandma) its even more frustrating when they go in there. knowing you don't love sharing spaces sometimes- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calumxkisses · 3 years

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Dancing In The Sky | a.i.

pairing: ashton irwin x reader

genre: fluff to angst

warnings: death (not main characters)

summary: request - Hi!!! It’s very morbid but, I really want one with ash or cal, where they’re in one of the boys house just the boys and their girls, and then the reader receive a call in the middle of the conversation telling someone in her family is dead and she just in shock and she tells them, and the he hugs her and she breaks!!! Thanks

a/n: recently my granny had to be rushed to the hospital and i thought i was going to lose her - luckly it didn't happen. i felt this request particularly close. i always say 'i love you' to my grandma before hunging up on the phone (we live pretty far away from each other) and i thought about what would happen if i forgot to say it, not knowing it would be for the last time. i'm sorry to anyone of you if this triggers you. i love you.

you should read this imagine while listening to: before you go

➳

The light coming in from the window on your right illuminates the whole room, it’s late afternoon but the sun shines almost as if it were noon. The scorching heat has now passed, there is a breeze that cools the air and spreads the scent of the grill in the garden, alternating the scent of grilled vegetables and steaks throughout the house. The pool water is still moving, the inflatable flamingo is wedged near the pool stairs and you can still see the tracks of Michael's wet feet near the diving board.

Halsey's songs are repeated at a low volume, but the guys sing them out loud and a smile forms on your face as you see how they are always ready to support their friends, not only publicly with tweets or instagram stories, but also in private, enjoying music like normal people do.

You hold onto the sweatshirt Ashton gave you as you grab your cell phone from the sofa and put it in your shorts pocket. Your hair is still wet from the shower you just took and it’s leaking few drops of water as you head outside, where your friends are starting to set the table for dinner.

You don't know how it happened, you have vague memories, but you feel grateful to have them around you, to have the opportunity to consider them as a second family, to be able to hug them and to be able to laugh with them. It is a fortune that not everyone has and you make sure you don't waste this opportunity.

“Honey!” Ashton yells, shaking his hand up and looking at you with an amused look. A few tufts of hair fall in front of his face and with one hand he tries to move them back, only to find them in front of his eyes again. His swimsuit is now dry, his chest is red from staying under the sun all day but his tattoos still manage to stand out in the tan and a huge smile covers his face.

Seeing him so happy, confident, at peace with his mind and in love with life, warms your heart and you almost feel like crying of joy in seeing him like this.

You wiped his tears, hugged him under the covers and held him a million times as his demons took over, when mirrors became enemies and food scared him.

You turned off his cell phone every time he read comments about his body and spent sleepless nights keeping him company while he vented his frustration by playing the drums.

You held out your hand to him while accompanying him in his battle against himself, you kissed him as he went through hell and his joy was worth every single tear.

You are proud of him, of the way he went back to wearing his favorite t-shirts and of the way he has come to love all his flaws, even though you're still sure he doesn't even have one.

As you leave the house, a cool breeze passes through your hair and you instinctively close your eyes to be able to appreciate the moment of coolness in the terrible heat of the last few days.

When you open your eyes, amazement takes over your body: the sky is not simply blue like the water in the pool you've been in all afternoon, but pink and orange clouds cover it completely; the sun hides behind them, tinges the sky with more intense colors and you feel your soul leave your body at the sight of so much beauty.

The sunset is so mesmerizing that you don't even feel the need to pick up your phone and take a picture of it, it's so beautiful that you're sure not even the best cameras would be able to capture such a marvel.

It’s a pink and orange sunset, bigger clouds are the backdrop to smaller more intense colors and the skyline of the city is slowly tinged with black, the lights of the buildings begin to see each other more and the world slows down as it prepares for the quietest hours.

The sunset arouses familiar, nostalgic, certainly not typical emotions in you; it’s so beautiful that you feel like you are living a dream, you pinch your arm lightly to make sure you are awake but Ashton's laugh reminds you that it is reality and, with that melody in the background, you understand that the difference between dream and reality is not that big.

And even if it were a dream, you know that dreaming never hurt anybody.

As the sunset surrounds you in a warm hug, a small white butterfly begins to flutter around you, spinning around and bringing a smile to your lips. The insect is small, but in the orange sky it stands out in an important way, making you feel like a Disney princess. You stretch your hand up, raising your forefinger and inviting the little butterfly to lean on it and, without fear, it leans on it, resting its wings and showing itself even more beautiful than you thought.

It’s white but at the corners of its wings it has black spots, its gaze seems to be directed towards you as its antennae move delicately. A sense of awe and wonder makes its way inside of you and you slowly bring the butterfly closer to you so you can admire it better, noticing how safe it continues to feel with you.

“Is everything alright?” Sierra asks as she sets the plates on the table, she's too busy to notice how you seem to be in symbiosis with the butterfly.

“Yeah.” You whisper while the insect continues to stay on your finger, motionless, leading you to feel a sense of peace in the moment you are living.

Suddenly, while the blue sky is giving its space to the dark night, the butterfly takes off and, after making another turn around you, heads towards the sky and merges with the lights of the stars.

You walk back to your friends, still confused about what just happened, and you see Michael trying to move the fire bowl to the corner of the pool. “Mike, if I were you I'd be more careful, you're not the luckiest person when it comes to fire.” You smile and you hear your friends laughing out loud as a grin appears on Michael's face.

“Don't worry, Crystal has seen enough tv shows about doctors to know what to do if I get burned again.” He replies looking at his girlfriend and laughing.

“Shut up and come here,” Crystal responds by pretending to be offended. “Dinner’s ready.” her lips try to hold back the smile that is forming on her face.

You sit on your boyfriend's lap while Luke sets the meat on the plates and Sierra pours the beer into your glass. Ashton pushes your hair to the side and kisses you on the neck, giving you goosebumps and getting winks from his friends.

“You’re terrible.” he replies while looking at them and squeezing his hands on your lap, his head resting on your back while he rolls his eyes and smiles. Everyone burst out laughing and the sound of their laughter still feels like the most beautiful melody to you.

As you are about to take your first bite, your phone starts ringing and vibrating inside the pocket of your shorts. You put your fork down and stand up, being careful not to trip over Ashton's feet as he gives you a questioning look. You give him a kiss on his head and you go away slightly from your group so you can hear better.

Your mother's voice is low as you bring the phone to your ear, a smile forms on your face to hear the sound of her voice but the world collapses on you a few seconds later, when her words become understandable while she cries.

The conversation is short-lived, it is mostly made up of your mother's sobs and words you never wanted to hear. Your mouth opens slightly and your heart seems to stop. And when she closes the call, you have a hard time figuring out if you are having a nightmare or if you are still in reality.

“Was that your lover on the phone?” Calum smiles as you stare at your phone screen as soon as you hang up the call. You look up and see everyone's gaze on you as your eyes start to pinch.

“It was my mother,” you take a deep sigh as you try to find the courage to speak. “My grandmother died a couple of hours ago. She's gone and-” and the words die in your mouth.

Your friends' smiles quickly transform as their brows rise and their eyes lose their light. Crystal is the first to hug you, in less than a second her arms are around you but it's all so surreal that you can't even find the strength to move your body. You hear whispers, but your ears are muffled as Ashton takes the place of your best friend and holds you close to his chest, kissing your hair and whispering words of comfort.

It all happens so fast that you struggle to metabolize, it seems to you that the whole world has stopped or is going too fast, it is hard to try to understand as your mind repeats your mother's words all over again.

You talked to your grandmother the day before, you described to her the weather and you told her all the projects you had in mind, including going to see her as soon as possible. She had told you some stories from her past because she knew how much you loved hearing stories from other times and then you said goodbye to her in a hurry because someone had rang the doorbell.

You didn't tell her you loved her and your heart breaks even more at the realization that she left without knowing the affection you felt for her.

Did she know you loved her? Did she know that she was the most important person to you? Did she know you were grateful for all the sacrifices she had made to make you happy? Did she know you were proud of her? Did she know you loved the way she kissed your hands? Did she know how much you cared about her? Or did she pass wondering if you loved her?

If that were the case, you would never forgive yourself.

Part of you, however, is aware that behind those wrinkles and trembling hands, there were years of wisdom and intelligence and that, even when she was sick, she knew that you loved her unconditionally.

You still remember how she was the one who taught you to ride a bike when your parents were too busy working, how her hunched back bent even more as she pushed you along the street outside your childhood house, letting you go on your own when you learned, while still lying to you about how her hands were attached to the bike, to make you feel protected.

You certainly still remember the way she bragged about you, how she proudly used to tell all the ladies at the grocery store that you were her niece, her greatest joy and the best gift she ever received.

And, if you close your eyes and focus, you can still feel the warmth of the old fireplace in her home, of her hands holding yours while your face was resting on her shoulder. You can still hear the sound of burning wood, of her sweet voice singing melodies belonging to past eras while, between one verse and another, her lips kissed your head and whispered words of love.

Most of all, you have memories of how her arms wrapped around your little body when there was a thunderstorm, when the screams inside your house got too loud and when you saw her again after weeks, with your hearts coming back to beat in unison and your lungs beginning to breathe again.

Now that she is gone, who would be by your side? Who would teach you to cook and sew?

You would no longer hear her heart beating when you leaned against her chest, you would no longer hear the sound of her breaths when you slept next to her, you would no longer wake up with the smell of the flowers she grew and, above all, her dry, wrinkled lips would no longer whisper “I love you” to you.

All the fights, all the moments when you were bothered by her calls and all your snorting about the boredom of being with her bring a pang to your heart that tastes of guilt and arrogance, of shame and wasted moments that won't come back.

She was now gone, her heart had beaten for the last time and her eyes had stopped shining and the more time passes, the more her absence starts to hurt.

While your friends are around you to not leave you alone and Ashton hugs you tightly while caressing your hair, everything seems to start to make sense: the butterfly that just moments before had leaned on your hand, the sunset so beautiful and intense - she was there, she was giving you her last goodbye with all the delicacy possible.

She was reassuring you that she will always be there for you, that she will be in the sunsets under which you will fall asleep and that she will be the butterflies that will fly around in the sky, to reassure you that everything’s gonna be alright.

And with this new certainty and a weight in your chest that will slowly go away, you let yourself go, the tears begin to roll down your face and the sobs echo in the silence of the evening, as the stars light up the sky and God gains a new angel.

Ashton knows it won't be easy, that it will be months before that pain will become more bearable and that family lunches and dinners will be harder, that that empty chair around the table will be a stab in the heart every time.

But he also knows that you are strong, that you will be able to overcome everything, that sadness will turn into a smile when you’ll remember her and that, whatever happens, in a way or another, he will always be there next to you, just like your grandma used to be.

—

#5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin imagine #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin #ashton irwin x you #ashton 5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #calum 5sos #calum 5 seconds of summer #michael 5sos #michael 5 seconds of summer #luke 5sos #luke hemmings

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givemethatgold · 3 years

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Fix’er Upper -Pt 14

Paring: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Warnings: just a bunch of fluffy family fluff, some dude being a nosy creep, overbearing mothers Length: 1.1 k Notes: This one is slow, babes. Just needed to build a bit of this new world, introduce Annie a bit and show you how things are progressing. It’ll pick up again soon I promise, bear with me! (Or don’t, I mean I can’t force you to like where this is going, lolz) Also, just typed this up tonight while raging at the laziness of men, so there are going to be mistakes, I can’t be fucked to find them. Trying to post this with NO links, as I’ve heard that may be the reason for the tagging issues? LET ME KNOW IF YOU GET THE NOTIFICATION THIS TIME!

Turns out, two people with zero child-caring experience are not going to have an easy time suddenly becoming parents. There wasn't any one particular thing that you could pinpoint the difficulty one, either, it was just a complete one-eighty on how you had previously lived your lives.

Frankie immediately stopped working such late hours, effectively putting a bookmark in the cider's expansion. He didn't even have to think twice about it, it was a no-brainer to him. Didn't make the loss of potential income an easy pill to swallow, though. Date nights were officially off the schedule, so were sleepovers and all the fun things that accompanied them. There had been a few heated moments between the two of you, but Frankie felt weird about having sex anywhere near his daughter and you refused to let him fuck you in the barn. Again. Especially after the last two times resulted in unfortunate splinter placement.

Annie took less time to adjust than the two of you did, she really was an amazing little girl. She loved her little nook in the loft, although the décor was not to her taste and she wouldn't stop dropping hints about it until you took her to pick out new everything. Frankie had tried to put his foot down by explaining she wasn't going to get everything she wanted in life, but all it took were widening eyes and a protruding bottom lip before he was handing you the truck keys before you could blink.

Annie's attachment to you had surprised everybody, including her. The conversations you and Frankie had had before her arrival usually skirted around the conversation of what your role would be. You knew she was mourning her mother and were wary of trying to replace her, so you had fully expected to take a step back from Frankie's life while he and Annie built their new one together. You had her at apple farm, however, and now the two of you were best buds.

Well, until the six-going-on-sixteen attitude reared its ugly head and suddenly sweet, angelic Annie was replaced by a stubborn, moody, unwilling child who decided that screaming was the best response to negotiations.

For the first couple of months, Frankie had allowed it, not knowing what was normal acting-out behaviour for a kid who had experienced parental loss. He also had a hard time being strict, as he still felt like it wasn't his place; some weird kind of imposter syndrome. However, after Jacquie and Mark had been witness to one such episode, they had gently pulled Frankie aside and encouraged him to find a therapist for Annie and that structure and rules would be beneficial for her.

New routines were set, some of which you were involved in and others were special between Frankie and his daughter. Saturday was movie night, she was asleep by 7:30 so it was more of a movie evening, with popcorn, Twizzlers, and coke floats. You were invited to these, as Annie insisted on educating both adults on which Disney princess was best.

Frankie drove Annie to school every day, he knew he could easily send her on the bus but he needed that extra assurance that she had gotten to school safely. There had been an odd incident, which no other adults seem to have witnessed, where a man had apparently approached Annie and started asking her questions about her parents.

This had, understandably, upset the girl, and the two of you, but the busy body's identity was never revealed. Frankie had been irate. Initially, he interrogated Annie, asking her for every little detail. Then the bus driver, parking lot attendant, teachers, and other kids were subject to his questioning. He went so far as to request all security video footage from around town, but nothing showed up. Neither of you suspected Annie of lying but it was like the man was a ghost.

Eventually, it was chalked up to a parent wanting to get the scoop on your and Frankie's lives, as you'd been very private considering your first action as a couple was to practically dry hump on a carnival ride. After that incident causing Frankie's panic attack, and now creeping out a kid, you were a lot less inclined to appreciate the meddling from bored townsfolk even if it did bring the two of you together.

Frankie was always thinking up new ideas to build trust and create new memories for Annie, his guilt at missing out on her toddler years was exasperated by having her now. They created a memory book for her, so she could write down, colour, or paste anything that reminded her of her mom or her life in California. You were secretly building a memory book for the two of them, to show Annie when she was older how hard her dad had worked to become the man she needed him to be.

Twice a week Annie got to pick the recipe and they made dinner together. This usually resulted in a massive mess and only semi-edible food, but the smiles on their faces were worth it.

On Wednesdays, you picked her up and had a girl's afternoon getting something from the bakery and perusing books at the library, making up stories about the people walking by the café windows, or driving over to Jacquie's so Annie could play with her kids.

It was after one such outing when you were dropping Annie off at the farm, that Frankie came out to greet you with a guilty look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he began, rubbing the back of his neck and readjusting his baseball cap. "I didn't look at the caller display before picking up, and then once I was on the phone I got nervous."

"Frankie," you said lowly, dread filling your stomach. "What did you do?"

"I couldn't help it, I panic talked and I don't even know how much I blurted out! She's like Oprah or Barbara Walters! She just knows how to get people talking!"

"I know, Frankie," you ground out, trying not to lose your shit in front of a very interested little girl who has no filter during Sharing Time at school. "That's why we don't answer her calls!"

"But, babe, she's your mom. We can't keep ignoring her-"

"Apparently not!" You didn't realize how frustrated you were before it was too late. Your voice had gone shrill and loud and, judging by the look at Annie's face, angry. Taking a deep, calming breath in you tried smiling at the two of them without it making you look demented, "I need to call her and do some damage control, make sure she doesn't do something rash like-"

"Ahhh..." Frankie was back to looking guilty and you could have sworn your heart stopped. "She knows about Annie. Called herself Grandma. Said that Mother's Day would be extra special this year..?"

"FUuuuuuudge.." you barely managed to withhold the swear, looking at Frankie with a slightly panicked yet amused look on your face.

"It's okay," a little voice piped up, "I know that word. Mom said ‘Fuck’ all the time while we were stuck in traffic."

Part Fifteen - coming soon!

TAGS: Let’s see if these bitches work...

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levbug · 3 years

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𝟕 𝐏.𝐌. ー 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐬.

#pairing ー very sleepy! kita shinsuke x gn! reader

#warnings ー none but kitas really whipped its kinda embarrassing + he doesnt shower before laying down despite being stinky u gross little boy

#genre ー best friends to lovers-ish(?), fluff, angst

#wc ー 1.2k

for @kyotarou's 24h collab!! p.s thank u vi @hikariakaashi for helping me out with this teehee <3

'i'm beat,' kita thinks upon carelessly tossing his dirty old gym bag on the ground. his movements are heavy and sluggish, a fatigued expression present on his handsome features. the contents of his bag spill out, but kita can't find it in himself to bend down and fix it.

the poor boy looks less than pitiful at this moment. having forgotten to pack an umbrella this morning, his clothes stick to his body like a second skin. he peels off the damp clothing with a grimace, wincing when the discarded fabric lands on his bedroom floor with a resounding 'plop!'

kita is all but ready to settle into bed and get some well-deserved rest, but just as he pulls on his favorite pair of pajamas and tucks himself in, his phone rings.

"hello?" he answers wearily, not even bothering to check who had decided to call him. the only thing on his mind is the sweet temptation that is sleep.

"hi, kita!"your chipper voice replies. the boy winces at how enthusiastic and happy you sound, despite it being 7 p.m on a wednesday night. he wonders how you can keep your energy levels so high; he'd have to take a few notes.

"oh, hi (name)," it wasn't unusual for you to call kita (he practically expected you to), although it was quite unconventional; you two lived just across the street from each other.

he still didn't quite understand why you insisted on calling him every night just before dinner, but over the years he's learned that it's better to leave some things unquestioned. that, and because he liked it when you took the time out of your day to speak to him.

"how was your day today?" he asks, a hint of interest lacing his usually monotone voice.

"oh! well, today was actually pretty fun! me and atsumu actually ended up in detention today because..." you begin. kita listens as you tell him about the happenings of your day, from the positives to your daily frustrations.

although he wouldn't admit it, he treasures these moments most. the moments where you speak about anything and everything and he just listens, humming or letting out a small "really, they said that?" to show that he was somewhat invested.

there have been times when you'd pout at kita and accuse him of never listening to what you say, claiming that you'd often hear him snoring while you ranted. kita would just chuckle and shake his head, not denying but not confirming your suspicions either.

in his heart, no matter how many times he may have accidentally fallen asleep to your voice, he knows that he'd never intentionally tune you out. you're too special to him for that.

you were his first long-term friend. hell, why should he put it lightly? you were his first ever friend.

when the other kids refused to play with him, calling him sickly and weak and slow and all the things that damaged his self-confidence, you stuck by his side. you took his hand with the friendliest smile he had ever seen and you made him feel like he belonged. you didn't tip-toe around topics, you didn't hesitate to call people out on their bullshit. you were confident and strong, and kita liked that about you.

and while he wouldn't necessarily say he was in love, he felt strongly about you. the way your easy-going smile would morph into a look of defiance and mischief once provoked was enough for his heart to start beating erratically in his chest. how you'd hold his hand absentmindedly when you two would be caught in a crowd, how your eyes shone like the stars when you'd laugh at a stupid joke one of the twins would make, the furrow of your brows when you were deep in thought, the childish lilt in your voice when you'd tease poor aran on the rare occasion that he was flustered. kita felt strongly about it all.

"kita? are you still there? you've gone awfully quiet," you trail off from your story about how suna had gotten one of osamu and atsumu's arguments on tape.

"what? oh yeah, just thinking about some things," his voice tapers off at the end of his sentence. he can hear a faint hum of concern from your end, as well as the sound of rustling sheets.

"what kind of things?" you ask softly.

kita hums, repositioning himself and resting his chin on his arm. "nice things,"

"you're a shit conversationalist, you know that?" an exasperated sigh crackles through the crappy speakers of kita's phone.

he chuckles, a pleasant, low sound that comes deep from his chest. "so i've been told," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

for a moment, silence fills the air. the tired boy closes his eyes and listens to the soft hum of your air conditioning.

"your grandma told me about how you forgot your umbrella this morning," kita can envision the small pout on your lips, the same one you always wear when you scold him.

"is that so?" he doesn't bother suppressing a smile.

"yeah, she did," you sigh. kita hears more rustling, this time accompanied by a soft grunt. "you should stop overworking yourself. i don't know why you feel the need to keep tiring yourself out to the point where you can barely remember to eat breakfast. don't do that to yourself!"

"i know, i'm sorry," he apologizes. he's noticed you have a wonderful knack for encouraging and reassuring people. he loves that about you.

"yeah, you better be..." and once more, it's silent between you two. kita doesn't really mind; it's the kind of silence like in those cheesy romance books, the comfortable one where neither of you have to worry about filling the gap. it's nice, he thinks.

just as kita begins to nod off to sleep, he hears the muffled call of your name, presumably from your mother.

"oh, i have to go now," kita shakes the temptation of sleep away from his mind and feels the familiar dread that always came when you'd tell him you needed to go. "i'll see you tomorrow at school, yeah? and don't forget to eat dinner and shower tonight! your grandma's really worried about you!"

a plethora of reassurances leave kita's mouth as you list the things he needs to do. the boy is hardly able to quell the urge to roll his eyes. "i know, i know! don't worry so much about me, i can take care of myself!"

an indignant huff sounds from your end of the line, but softens into a relenting sigh. "i know kita, but you can't blame me! you're my best friend, i have a right to worry about you!"

he feels a strange stirring in his heart at your words, but he chooses to ignore it. "i know. i'll try my best to take better care of myself, so don't worry so much about me, okay?"

the line goes quiet for a second. "okay,"

"okay," he closes his eyes once more, chewing on the soft flesh of his lower lip. "and (name)?"

"yeah, kita?"

kita hesitates for a second too long, for as soon as the words "i think i'm in love with you," leave his lips,

the call had already ended.

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peachtree-dish · 3 years

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A Te Che Sei Il Mío Grande Amore

Chapter 3: Senza che tu mi dica niente tutto si fa chiaro

Luglio 01, 1969

Luca’s birthday rolled around faster than anyone expected, the day arriving with clear skies and high temperatures. Luca awoke to his mother’s voice echoing through their home as she prepared breakfast. Stretching, the fifteen-year-old shook his nonna as gently as he could to wake her. She grumbled at his attempts and swatted at his claws.

“Nonna,” he sighed, shrugging with a smile and swimming into the kitchen to greet his parents. During his time in Porto Rosso, Luca enjoyed every moment he could swimming and spending as much time in the water since he couldn’t do as much in Genoa. He, along with Giulia and Signora Mia, had snuck to the shoreline in the early hours of the morning every few weeks or so just so Luca could refresh his scales and get the nutrients he needed. It was especially necessary when the temperature had become too cold and made him lethargic and ill. Luca shook his head softly, sending bubbles rippling above him in search of the surface. Signora Mia had been just as kind as Massimo, and just as headstrong in a lot of ways. He made a silent promise to call her with Giulia to make sure she was doing well, even if he were sure nothing could fell the infamous Mia Berni.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Daniella kissed Luca’s cheek and handed him a plate full of seaweed and fish flank on his way to the table. Returning the sentiment, the youth sat beside his father and informed his parents that grandma had decided to sleep in a little longer.

“Ugh, she does this every time. MA!” Daniella shouted in frustration, only to be startled by her own mother swimming around the corner.

“You’re being dramatic, dear. I only do it when I think it will annoy you.” The elderly sea monster smiled toothily at her disgruntled daughter who muttered, “Which is every day,” and finished setting the table.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older, son?” Lorenzo floated a piece of fish to his mouth and chewed animatedly, his gaze never leaving Luca’s. Luca shrugged in response and picked at the seafood drifting across the coral table.

“Not any different than last year, honestly. I still feel like I’m fourteen, so nothing special.” He slurped the seaweed into his mouth, much to his mother’s chagrin, and instantly missed the taste of pasta.

“Fifteen is a pretty big deal, though, you’re becoming a young man and that means changes and more responsibility.”

“I hardly think now is the time to discuss any of that at the table.” Luca’s grandmother scoffed before he could reply.

“What, it’s just the basics; Longer tail and fins, not to mention attracting the pretty lady gills, eh?” Lorenzo nudged Luca in the side who nearly choked on his food and spluttered white bubbles over the table, his scales flushing darkly.

“Lorenzo!” Danielle cried, her claws slapping the table in mortification.

“What? We were around his age when we met. If I remember correctly, you thought I was quite the catch.” He batted his eyes at her, pursing his lips teasingly.

“I was young and silly; I didn’t know any better.” Try as she might, Daniella couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to break her scowl. She busied herself by shredding the fish flank and wrapping it in seaweed. Undeterred, Lorenzo lifted from his chair and leaned in closer, trying to further fluster his wife.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still accepted my courting pearl after the Spring Swim Festival.” Lorenzo pulled a reluctant Daniella out of her chair and began to lead her around the room in spins and pivots, grinning madly as she shrieked with laughter. Luca watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his discomfort fading as he pushed the idea of ‘lady gills’ far from his mind. When he peered at his grandma, she appeared nonplussed and continued munching on her food although a genuine smile lifted her aging scales.

“You were skinnier and more handsome then, of course, she fell for you.” Lorenzo pouted at his mother-in-law and led both he and Daniella back to the table.

“I simply grew into my man body,” He emphasized his point by sticking his gut out even farther and patted it proudly. The table burst into laughter and Luca quickly finished eating after, his stomach nearly as full as his heart.

After he finished, he turned to his mother and asked, “Is it ok if I go visit Alberto and Giulia for the afternoon?”

Daniella conceded with a content nod, “Just don’t forget about our dinner tonight at Massimo’s, we don’t want you kids to be late.” Luca agreed cheerfully and kissed each family member on the cheek before swimming out the entrance.

“Hey!” Luca turned mid swim to see Daniella at the entrance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, ma!” Grinning, Luca took off, the water gliding past him as he made his way to the surface and his friends. As he leaped through the blue waves, he imagined he was like the superhero from the newspaper comics that Giulia and Mia both read. Pointing both fists forwards, Luca broke the surface with a whoop, water streaming behind him like a cape.

When he arrived at the Marcovaldo residence, the only beings there to greet them were Machiavelli and a few of his kits, each of whom wanted his attention and brief affection. Finding some of his spare clothes in the drawers of Alberto and Giulia's shared room, Luca quickly left the house and wandered the streets, eager to find his friends. Judging from the sun, he knew the morning fishing trip had come to an end not too long before which should mean Giulia, and Alberto was out delivering. Walking through the town square, Luca waved to a few of the patrons he recognized, mentally wincing as he remembered his first attempts at greeting Porto Rosso’s patrons. If anyone had been the stupidi, it had been them.

Chuckling as he went up the city’s hill, Luca caught sight of two familiar heads of curls along with two faces he was not expecting. Tensing at the sight of Guido and Ciccio, Luca prepared himself for a fight and made to run the rest of the way before he heard laughter. Guido was laughing at something Alberto had said and lightly touched his shoulder. Somehow, the movement was worse than if he had punched Alberto instead. A dark and ugly feeling reared its head within Luca’s belly, causing his face to burn and his hands to clench. Clenching his teeth, the young sea monster marched up the cobblestone pathways, intent on not showing his discomfort.

“Ciao,” he muttered shortly, arriving beside Alberto, and instantly causing Guido to lift his hand from Alberto’s shoulder. Giulia nodded hello from her seat on the bike as Alberto wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Luca,” Alberto cheered even more so upon seeing Luca. “You remember Guido and Ciccio, vero? I helped their families in the off-season while you were away.” Luca looked at the two teens who stood abashedly in front of him and offered his hand after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Not, he thought as he shook the brunette’s hand. Ciccio spoke up, his round features coloring.

“We realize we never officially apologized to you before you left, si? We’re really sorry about last summer, Luca.”

“Si, Ciccio, and I were very foolish and ignoranti, we hope you can forgive us, and we can start again.” Guido smiled warmly, his gaze sincere. Taking a deep breath, Luca felt his earlier feeling of… whatever it was, fading away. If Alberto and Giulia both felt they could trust these boys again, then he could follow their lead.

“Lo apprezzo. I know being around Ercole wasn’t the easiest either, it’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” He smiled genuinely this time, heartened when the two ex-henchmen immediately relaxed.

“Bah, no lie, I’m so happy to be rid of that jerk,” Guido nodded at Ciccio who nodded and twisted his hands anxiously.

“He ate so much of my family’s bread,” Ciccio whispered horrified, his gaze wide. Giulia shared a weirded-out expression with Alberto who only shook his head.

“I didn’t know your family baked,” Luca interceded, ignoring his friends’ lack of subtlety Snapping back to the present, Ciccio grinned widely showing his perfectly white teeth.

“Oh, si, Pasticcini al sale Marino is the pride and joy of Porto Rosso and my family. Our baked goods bring customers from miles around; you should see the line of people who want to buy my mother’s Sfogliatella.” He leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “My siblings and I have been helping since we were little, so only we know the recipe.” He puffed his round chest out proudly, only to be poked by both Alberto and Guido.

“Knowing a recipe and following it correctly are two different things, Ciccio. Your batter was not very good the last time you tried to make Bombolini.” Guido teased and Alberto nodded knowingly.

“I still don’t know how you mixed up salt and sugar,” the older sea monster screwed his face in disgust, remembering how the supposedly sweet treats and mistakenly been made with copious amounts of salt. “Seriously, Ciccio, even the ocean’s not as salty as those things were.” Ciccio pouted good-naturedly as the group laughed.

“It’s still not as bad as the time Guido set the auto garage on fire,” the blond argued mildly to which said boy grimaced.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again; I thought my papa was going to skin me alive.”

The teens chatted a bit more and Luca began to warm up to the two boys who had hurt him so much the past year. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had been good all along and had simply needed the chance to prove themselves.

Bidding Guido and Ciccio farewell, Luca joined Alberto and Giulia as they made the rounds. Luca asked a question that had been on his mind since arriving in Porto Rosso.

“So, whatever happened to Ercole? I haven’t seen him since we’ve been in town.” Alberto placed the cash from his previous sale into the leather pouch of the cart before answering.

“Honestly, the guy kind of disappeared after the race. I think he was embarrassed enough to keep his head low for a while, but other than that, I’m not sure. Maybe he left?” Giulia thought for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe, I don’t think he went away to university, but he could have. His family is really wealthy, so they could afford it no matter the grades he got.”

Luca kicked a pebble, his thoughts skipping back to that one word: university.

“What’s the point of grades anyway, doesn’t that, like, stress you out more?” Alberto mused.

“It certainly does for me,” Giulia huffed. She bid Buongiorno to a young mother who bought the last of their fish and both Luca and Alberto filled the empty space as they headed back down the hill.

“I think it’s mostly competition, to see who really wants to be an academico or no,” she contemplated. “Sometimes if you have really good grades, the universities will pay you to study in their schools. That happened to mama when she moved to Genoa.” Alberto winced slightly at the mention of Giulia’s mother, the story of her separation from Massimo fresh in his memory.

“I wonder if I was good enough, they’d do that for me?” Luca hummed, his eyes following the drains that spread across each building they passed.

“Well, duh, they’d be stupid not to; you’re better than good enough right now,” Alberto bumped his shoulder with a smile. Luca blushed and tossed his friend a grin.

“Hey, happy birthday by the way. It’s about time you got to my age,” the older boy winked and wrapped his arm around Luca again, causing Luca’s skin to hum with energy.

“Oh, yeah! Are you excited for tonight?” Giulia asked over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys, really,” Luca felt warmer with Alberto’s arm around him, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. He wondered briefly if said boy could feel how hard his heart was pounding. “Should I be excited, I thought we were just having dinner?” Luca asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He twisted around to face Giulia as she pulled into the plaza and made her way towards the small coastal home. Alberto lifted his arm when Luca turned away, causing him to feel its loss.

Giulia glanced at him and grinned excitedly. “Papa saved some fireworks from the Festa Della Repubblica since we were in Genoa, and he wants to set them off for tonight.” Luca gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Santa mozzarella! Are you serious?!” He shared an animated glance with Alberto who smiled as he hopped off the cart.

“Of course! I mentioned to him how much you had enjoyed the fireworks during Vigilia di Capodanno last December. He decided that would be his gift to you this year.” Giulia locked the bike and carried their bag of earnings inside, the two boys following after her.

Inside they found Massimo at his stove, his presence filling up the majority of the room. He turned to greet them as they entered, placing a kiss upon Giulia’s curly head.

“Buon cumpleanno, Luca. May you live to see many more,” Massimo rumbled fondly, patting Luca on his checkered shoulder. Luca returned the sentiment and wrapped a short hug around the large man, his arms too small to wrap fully around him.

“Grazie, Massimo. For your wishes and for your surprise gift,” Luca pulled away while Massimo smiled happily, his eyes disappearing behind his bushy eyebrows.

“Giulia,” Massimo chided lightly, turning to his daughter who was counting out money, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until after dinner?” Giulia smiled apologetically.

“Scusa, papa, we were just too excited,” She and Alberto began counting the coins on the table while Massimo ushered Luca over to the stove.

“Come, Luca, you will help me prepare dinner,” Massimo handed him a bag of clams and ordered him to wash them thoroughly in the sink. Luca would be the first to admit he was not a cook, but Massimo was gentle in his orders and easily guided Luca in making a perfect pasta dinner.

Once the Paguro family arrived along with Ciccio and Guido, once again to Luca’s surprise, the night was filled with much laughter and filling food. The linguine pasta alle vongole was instantly a hit and paired nicely with the red wine Ciccio had brought on behalf of his family. To the teens’ disappointment, the adults were adamant that they were still too young for alcohol. At one moment, Lorenzo laughed so hard, he inhaled his pasta and sent part of it into his nose much to the delight of the children. After dinner, the group trouped outside with fireworks and dessert in hand. While Massimo and Lorenzo set up the fireworks near the edge of the waterline, Daniella, Giulia, and Ciccio helped serve gelato and watermelon.

With a happy sigh, Alberto nestled himself into the sand alongside Luca, happily chewing on the red-fleshed fruit. Luca’s eyelids were drooping as his body felt full and warm, accompanied by his own friend’s radiating heat. His gaze lingered as Alberto licked gelato from his lips, the cream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, Luca shifted closer to Alberto. Instead, his gaze landed on his father asking animatedly about the fireworks in Massimo’s hand, the larger man looking both confused and entertained by Lorenzo’s energy.

“I know I already said it, but happy birthday,” Luca dragged his eyes back to the tanned boy next to him and smiled. He jumped slightly at the first explosion, watching in delight as the light of the fireworks made his friend’s skin glisten with multicolored hues.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” He replied easily. Neither made comment as their arms brushed or as their hands splayed out behind them with barely any space between. Up above the merry group, bright color after bright color bloomed across a starlit sky, the stars twinkling their own delight.

#luca #pixar luca #luca fanfiction #alberto scorfano #disney #alberto x luca #giulia marcovaldo #luca 2021 #luca x alberto #my fic tag #my favorite siblings #my fish bois #mutual pining #queer fanfiction #massimo marcovaldo #Daniella Paguro #lorenzo paguro #found family #a te che sei il mio grande amore

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luvholicz · 3 years

Text

pairing. wayv’s dong sicheng x gn! reader

genre + wc. timestamp, best friends to lovers(ish), fluff, angst at the end + 1.2k

warnings. none, however sicheng is Really whipped its kinda gross blech

notes. reposted from my old blog!! this is one of my fave pieces to date so i hope u enjoy ^.^

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

'i'm beat,' sicheng thinks upon carelessly tossing his dirty old gym bag on the ground. his movements are heavy and sluggish, a fatigued expression present on his handsome features. the contents of his bag spill out, but sicheng can't find it in himself to bend down and fix it.

the poor boy looks less than pitiful in this moment. having forgotten to pack an umbrella this morning, his clothes stick to his body like a second skin. he peels off the damp clothing with a grimace, wincing when the discarded fabric lands on his bedroom floor with a resounding 'plop!'

sicheng is all but ready to settle in bed and get some well-deserved rest, but just as he pulls on his favorite pair of pajamas and tucks himself in, his phone rings.

"hello?" he answers wearily, not even bothering to check who had decided to call him. the only thing on his mind is the sweet temptation that is sleep.

"hi, sicheng!"your chipper voice replies. the boy winces at how enthusiastic and happy you sound, despite it being 7 p.m on a wednesday night. he wonders how you can keep your energy levels so high; he'd have to take a few notes.

"oh, hi (name)," it wasn't unusual for you to call sicheng (he practically expected you to), although it was quite unconventional; you two lived just across the street from each other.

"how was your day today?" he asks, a hint of interest lacing his usually monotone voice.

"oh! well, today was actually pretty fun! me and donghyuck actually ended up in detention today because..." you begin. sicheng listens as you tell him about the happenings of your day, from the positives to your daily frustrations.

there have been times when you'd pout at sicheng and accuse him of never listening to what you say, claiming that you'd often hear him snoring while you ranted. sicheng would just chuckle and shake his head, not denying but not confirming your suspicions either.

in his heart, no matter how many times he may have accidentally fallen asleep to your voice, he knows that he'd never intentionally tune you out. you're too special to him for that.

you were his first long-term friend, hell, why should he put it lightly? you were his first ever friend.

and while he wouldn't necessarily say he was in love, he felt strongly about you. the way your easy-going smile would morph into a look of defiance and mischief once provoked was enough for his heart to start beating erratically in his chest. how you'd hold his hand absentmindedly when you two would be caught in a crowd, how your eyes shone like the stars when you'd laugh at a stupid joke donghyuck or johnny would make, the furrow of your brows when you were deep in thought, the childish lilt in your voice when you'd tease poor jaehyun on the rare occasion that he was flustered. sicheng felt strongly about it all.

"sicheng? are you still there? you've gone awfully quiet," you trail off from your story about how jeno had gotten one of renjun and donghyuck's arguments on tape.

"what? oh yeah, just thinking about some things," his voice tapers off at the end of his sentence. he can hear a faint hum of concern from your end, as well as the sound of rustling sheets.

"what kind of things?" you ask softly.

sicheng hums, repositioning himself and resting his chin on his arm. "nice things,"

"you're a shit conversationalist, you know that?" an exasperated sigh crackles through the crappy speakers of sicheng's phone.

he chuckles, a pleasant, low sound that comes deep from his chest. "so i've been told," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

for a moment, silence fills the air. the tired boy closes his eyes and listens to the soft hum of your air conditioning.

"your grandma told me about how you forgot your umbrella this morning," sicheng can envision the small pout on your lips, the same one you always wear when you scold him.

"is that so?" he doesn't bother suppressing a smile.

"yeah, she did," you sigh. sicheng hears more rustling, this time accompanied by a soft grunt. "you should stop overworking yourself. i don't know why you feel the need to keep tiring yourself out to the point where you can barely remember to eat breakfast. don't do that to yourself!"

"i know, i'm sorry," he apologizes. he's noticed you have a wonderful knack for encouraging and reassuring people. he loves that about you.

"yeah, you better be..." and once more, it's silent between you two. sicheng doesn't really mind; it's the kind of silence like in those cheesy romance books, the comfortable one where neither of you have to worry about filling the gap. it's nice, he thinks.

just as sicheng begins to nod off to sleep, he hears the muffled call of your name, presumably from your mother.

"oh, i have to go now," sicheng shakes the temptation of sleep away from his mind and feels the familiar dread that always came when you'd tell him you needed to go. "i'll see you tomorrow at school, yeah? and don't forget to eat dinner and shower tonight! your grandma's really worried about you!"

a plethora of reassurances leave sicheng's mouth as you list the things he needs to do. the boy is hardly able to quell the urge to roll his eyes. "i know, i know! don't worry so much about me, i can take care of myself!"

an indignant huff sounds from your end of the line, but softens into a relenting sigh. "i know sicheng, but you can't blame me! you're my best friend, i have a right to worry about you!"

he feels a strange stirring in his heart at your words, but he chooses to ignore it. "i know. i'll try my best to take better care of myself, so don't worry so much about me, okay?"

the line goes silent for a second. "okay,"

"okay," he closes his eyes once more, chewing on the soft flesh of his lower lip. "and (name)?"

"yeah, sicheng?"

sicheng hesitates for a second too long, for as soon as the words "i think i'm in love with you," leave his lips,

the call had already ended.

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

He’s Leaving (FNTO 2)

They weren’t kidding when they said everything you touch turns into a mess.

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! JK’s angry in this one

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, eventual smut

Word count: ~12,000

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: This takes place 7 months after that night Y/N’s ex shows up! Italicized parts refer to past events. And since I’d mentioned this was initially for Harry, I remember now that Home by 1D was my mood for this, so listen to it as soundtrack (getting emotional while listening to it & thinking about how this ends)!

He’s leaving.

You stare blankly at the wall dividing your living room and bedroom and say the words once more, in your head and then out of your mouth.

He’s leaving.

You say it over and over again, alternating between question and statement.

Jungkook’s leaving.

“Yes, Y/N, that’s what I just said.” Jimin mutters over the phone.

“But why? I mean, since when does he leave ahead of all of you guys?”

“He decided to schedule a meeting with one of the producers he’s working with for his mixtape. It isn’t with your cousin, though, otherwise Jieun would’ve told you,” Jimin responds.

It’s the first week of August and the first show of the next leg of their world tour isn’t until a week from now, but Jungkook’s already headed to L.A. and he didn't even tell you about it. In fact, he hasn't said a word to you in the last five days, which is oddly surprising.

“He hasn't spoken to you?” Jimin asks, picking up on your thoughts. Perhaps your silence gave away the frustration you were feeling.

“Nope,” you reply, the sadness in your voice unmistakable.

“I hope you don't think I’m one of those people who’s gotten so attached to him that being ignored for five days feels like the end of the world… because it really isn’t. I’m just worried and confused,” you continue.

You aren’t blind. Jungkook’s surrounded by women, some vying for his attention, some wanting it back. They’d act out either way, displeasing him although he’d never say it out loud, but you were pretty sure you weren’t one of them. Right?

“Hey, of course not! As both of your friends, even I’m surprised. You two are like, inseparable, long-distance buddies,” he claims. “But to tell you the truth, I have no idea what’s going on either. Are you sure you didn't fight for real this time?”

No real fights, you say. Your arguments about who has better smelling detergent or your choice of movie to watch or him stealing your oversized sweatshirts were as far as you two went. You often had serious talks, but when you didn't see eye to eye, you always just agreed to disagree, and then it was back to petty fights and annoying each other like little kids again.

“I’ve to head out now, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn't help, but I hope you two patch things up! Just call if you need anything,” Jimin says after a few more back and forth of questions and answers about how the past week or so has been, just to pick up on any clues as to why things just suddenly came to a halt. You put your phone away and sit on the couch.

A few months ago, it probably wouldn't have mattered if he didn't text or call for a day or a week. You couldn't even truly come to terms with the fact that you’ve become good friends with Jeon Jungkook, the ‘golden maknae’ and self-proclaimed international playboy of the biggest band in the world who has the unenviable position of being half the female population’s (and a good fraction of the male’s as well) dream everything.

It amazed you how this oversized-clothes wearing boy with a bunny smile and doe eyes and who liked to talk to insects and impersonate chickens and act out Ironman fight scenes could arouse the sexual musings of individuals of all genders and ages. But then again, he does have that mellifluous voice and has this tendency to hump the air and dance wildly enough to reveal his abs, so you do understand the collective reaction.

For a high profile celebrity like him, it seems natural to be drawn to people from the same industry, for romance purposes or otherwise. Much of it has to do with the fact that they get the lifestyle, as his other band mates have shared, some of whom having dated fellow pop stars and models. But you aren’t from the same circle, or clique, or planet. While you’re your university’s star athlete, volleyball isn’t religion here, so there isn’t any “lifestyle change” of some sort.

Before Jungkook, your only window to celebrity life was through Jieun, your LA-based music producer of a cousin. Yet, you’ve always been wary of the spotlight, and those who loved it too much, which is why it baffled you for quite a while why you were so fond of Jungkook. He loved the spotlight enough to make his job look so easy, but he felt real — so real you almost thought he wasn't.

The midway mark of September has rolled in. Once the celebrations of your championship win over the summer were over, it was back to focusing on work and school. You’ve started your probationary period at a research institute, and you’re riding out your fifth year of university after your senior year knee injury left you out of school for a month and out of the graduation rites. This meant a chance to actually win the championship, which you did, and to appease your ever growing interest in gender studies, you decided to take up a minor program too.

It’s 8 am on a Monday and you’re enjoying your iced americano at Annie’s, your aunt’s café that she lets you run to help sustain your lifestyle. You monitor the daily operations, which means checking up on it everyday, and since class isn’t until nine, you always have your breakfast here.

Your back is turned to the door and you’re packing up your stuff, laughing at something Woojin, your café manager, is saying.

You stand up, swing your bag strap to your right shoulder and without paying attention, turn to your left to head out. Except instead of going for the door, you go for a body instead. The next thing you know, you’re massaging the right side of your forehead because holy crap this person has a knife for a chin, or a shoulder, or whichever part of the person’s body hit you.

“Ow!”

“I. Am. So. Sorry,” the person says. His voice is low and raspy, sleepiness still evident in it, and he says those words as if each is a sentence on its own. “Are you alright?”

By this time it has registered. You are looking up at the man who made your then-65 year old Grandma shriek. But that was last year and you bet if she were still alive now, she’d do the same, probably even louder.

You could hear customers enjoying their morning coffee whisper quite loudly “Is that Jeon Jungkook?!” And then it registers again. Yep, it is.

Eyes wide, you tell him that “good thing I don’t have coffee or that pretty white shirt of yours would’ve been messed up.”

Really, that’s what you say?

God, you sound so stupid, so you bat your eyelashes and put on a smile, as if that would save you the embarrassment. He grins.

“Yeah, good thing you didn't,” he says, letting out a little laugh.

You smile again, a bit awkwardly though, just to acknowledge his appreciation of you not ruining his Monday morning. As you’re about to step to your left to go for the door this time, he furrows his eyebrows. “You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?”

Well, you know where you’ve seen him, but you don't say that. Instead, you mumble “probably in your dreams?” Again, what?

He laughs again, this time more loudly. You’re amused at the child-like tone of his laugh, a complete contradiction to his toned body and tattooed arm. Your eyes travel up. Right, that was his shoulder you hit, you realize.

This is such a turn-off. Why does he keep laughing at stupid things?

“That sounded different in my head. It wasn't supposed to be a pick-up line if ever you thought so,” you clarify.

“No I didn’t, but thanks for confirming,” he says. You notice him smirking.

“Well, that settles it, then. Bye!” You wave, and you go for the door, for real this time.

It was an interesting way to start the week. You rarely have VIPs entering your café, especially in this quiet part of town, and so it’s quite a surprise to have him check it out. What’s even more surprising is seeing him there again the next day.

Your back isn’t to the door this time, but you’re zoned in on the paper you’re working on, eyes focusing on the laptop screen. It’s only when you momentarily look up and see Woojin preoccupied and seemingly distressed on the phone that you hear someone say, “excuse me” with his inked hand up that you realize your VIP is back. You stand up, approach him, and ask what he wants to order.

Jungkook’s face lights up. “Well, good morning, dream girl,” he greets. You flinch at the thought of what you said the day before implied.

“Please don’t,” you plead, before exploding into laughter. “Not my best moment, eh?”

He smiles again, shaking his head as if agreeing to what you just said.

“What do you want to order?”

“So… Annie?” He diverts.

You aren’t sure if you’re happy that asking for your name means he won’t have to call you dream girl again, or embarrassed because now there would be a name to the face.

“Annie’s my aunt, but I help run the place. It’s Y/N.”

“And I’m Jungkook,” he says, putting out his hand, as if you don't know who he is, which actually impresses you. You’ve heard of famous people's tendencies to act like everyone knows them, making them forego the courtesy of introducing themselves properly. You shake his hand, a little calloused but soft nonetheless. “This is Sejin. He told me about this place and how good it is,” he continues.

“Which is why you’re here for the second day this week?” you ask, fishing for some feedback on your food.

“I wanted to get back at the girl who would’ve spilled coffee on my shirt yesterday. Turns out this place has some great food as well,” he says, a smile creeping onto his face. You aren’t quite sure what to make of this.

You insist on their orders, suggest your bestsellers, and turn it over to the kitchen. As you’re about to head back to your seat, he says, “I remember where I know you from!” You look at him, curious.

“You’re Jieun’s cousin! She always posts about you,” he excitedly claims.

You nod. Of course, Jieun. You could’ve figured that out and told him yesterday instead of the dream girl thing.

“Right. Jieun,” you start. “She sucks up to me like that to convince me to visit her in L.A.,” you explain. You try to keep your voice steady. You don’t want to give the impression that having this conversation with him is already the most interesting part of your week, even if it is. Who gets to say that Jeon Jungkook recognizes their face anyway?

“You don’t like L.A.?” He asks curiously.

“It’s just not my cup of tea,” you respond, angling your body to move towards your table, but facing him still. You’re glad that the morning rush has ended and there aren’t many people in the cafe who minds enough that you’re talking to Jeon Jungkook.

“Then what is?” he asks, arms crossed against his chest, looking genuinely curious.

You let out a laugh. “Jasmine, chamomile. Lemongrass on some days,” you say. “We’ve got good ones you should try,” you tease.

You aren’t the type to spill things about you that easily, and he picks this one up. He nods and smiles. The only other thing he says to you before you leave is that the food is good, and that he’d “see you around.”

Of course he would, because for the rest of the week, he kept going back, right around the same time as you’re there. This isn't new, of course. You have so many customers who come everyday at a particular time — right before school or work or just part of their daily routine. But he didn't fit the profile of a regular customer, but you also could admit it was nice to see a fresh face around.

It’s Thursday of that week when he tells you “I have meetings and stuff in this area and your food’s really good,” after you give him a questioning look as to why he’s here again. And it’s the next day when he comes alone, orders jasmine tea for himself and for you, and asks for your number after you talk about Disney movies and the damsel in distress trope. And cats, and how much you hate them.

You have your back lying on the couch for 10 minutes, debating on whether you should drive to his place and ask what’s going on, or stay home and settle on phone calls for the next 2 months that he’ll be gone for the tour, if he’ll even pick them up. Because you’ve tried—you’ve called and left messages, not to ask why he hasn't been texting or if anything’s wrong, but just to crack up jokes that are way funnier than his, or to talk about food. You know, normal things.

You like how your texts never start with “good morning” and “what are you doing?” They’re usually along the lines of “some cat left a paw mark on my car, my day is ruined” or “I tripped in front of an old lady and she almost died laughing” or “what movie should I watch if I want to forget I have a shit load of work to do” or a picture of whatever food you ate that day.

Things are never formal with you two. It’s always very casual that sometimes you forget that his “show’s about to go on, I’ll talk to you later” text means he’s just about to perform in a sold-out stadium in front of thousands of people in Japan or something — like it was no big deal. Or that his “hang on, someone will just talk to me” is really code for “I’ve got an interview,” which you know will be newsflash and then posted all over social media immediately after. You enjoy this bit because it feels so natural, neither of you feel like you have to impress the other.

“Will you stop air fucking and pole dancing on the mic stand,” you’d say.

“Stop talking to me and do your report already,” he’d say.

“Seriously, why are your clothes 3 sizes bigger? How much food are you hiding in there?” You’d laugh over the phone.

“Your sweatshirt looks like shit, can I have it?” he’d annoy you, and then proceed to take it home.

You like making fun of each other as much as you like talking to each other. He’s easy to get along with and not pretentious; you’re comfortable to be around and not judgemental. He doesn’t have a problem telling you if you’re being too whiny; you don't mind calling him out for being too much of a perfectionist that he’s actually not being productive anymore.

Jimin was right when he described you two as inseparable, long-distance buddies — whether it was a night out with friends or a night in doing papers, if it didn’t clash with his schedule, you were together. Even if it was a quick take out dinner at 11PM after a long day of practicing, he’d be at your place.

Whenever he’s away on tour, he’d be constantly updating you about fan signs and the food and the weather; similarly, you’d update him on the café’s customer of the day or this new e-book you’d discovered or the weird dream you just had. You never feel any sort of pressure or expectation; neither of you feel too attached, despite the amount of time you spend together.

Regardless of how your constant texting or hanging out when he was back in Seoul seems like to others, neither of you ever felt like you had to define what you two really are. That’s what you always think the reason is as to why it works — it just does because you don't feel like it has to go a specific direction.

Despite all that, it still feels odd that he hasn’t been returning your calls or even updating you on how his day has been. The longest you’d gone without talking was 3 days, and that’s with a heads up. The next few months will be crazy for the band, what with the remaining shows of their tour. It isn't like him to just disappear from your life like this.

“When was the last time you saw him?” your best friend Chaewon asks over the phone when you finally decide to call someone after finding out Jungkook’s leaving.

“He’s not lost, okay. He’s just not calling,” you correct her. “But last week, we went for a drive, he slept over, and that was it. He just…” you trail. You aren’t even sure how to describe what just happened.

“Then why don’t you go over there?” She asks, almost as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don't know, it might get messy. You know I’m not good with confrontations.”

“Just go, Y/N. He probably won’t be calling you after he’s left if he’d been dodging you like this.”

Chae hangs up shortly after. You figure she probably doesn't want to hear another one of your excuses. You take your best friend’s advice and head for the door, get in your car, and take the 30-minute drive to his house.

“I like to leave,” you tell him. You glance to your right where he sits at the passenger seat of your car then look back on the road. You and Jungkook had just spent dinner with your friends at Chaewon’s apartment and you told him you could drive him back to the dorm.

He gives you a puzzling look. “Is that some sort of warning that I’ll wake up one day and you’ll just be… gone?” he asks, eyebrows scrunched up. You could see there’s a hint of concern on his face.

“Oh, I meant I like taking trips,” you laugh, realizing the oddity of what you had just said, which was a response to Jaehyun, your other best friend, mentioning you being voted as ‘most likely to evaporate into thin air’ in high school.

“Some days I wake up and just feel like being someplace else. So I grab my backpack and my trusty map, get into my car, and head out. By myself. Somewhere,” you say, shrugging, like it’s the most natural thing that people do.

You describe to him the places you’ve seen — the lakes and mountains and fields that many people don’t know about, how the sunsets are like from there, how the trees and flowers smell like, how otherworldly they look.

Most of the time, when you’re plagued with fear or sadness or doubt, you just leave. It’s your quick fix, your Band-Aid. You could be gone for a day or over the weekend; sometimes you’d be out for a week and not even your best friends know where you are, just that you’re safe.

“But why?” he asks. You think it was ironic since this is a guy who leaves for a living.

“When I was younger, we had this class and the teacher asked us to draw an object that represents us. I didn't even have a clear idea of who I was, how could I find the right object to symbolize me? You’ve got to find yourself, that’s how you’ll know, she said. I asked her how. She told me to go look at a map,” you narrate, looking back at that moment when you stared at your teacher trying to figure out if she was kidding or not.

“I guess you find yourself in places you don't know. Or you realize who you really are when things get chaotic and you go somewhere far. Or you pull yourself away from the crazy to take a breath and escape some things you’re not really ready to face…” you state.

“I never knew exactly what she meant, but I figured they all made sense,” you continue, slowing down the car as you’re a block away from his place. “You’ll always find a reason to leave.”

“But does leaving solve any of your problems?”

“Not always, but sometimes the problem is nothing that you leave behind. Sometimes the problem is you.” You’d thought about the times you came back and felt like a different person with a different perspective on things.

You look at him smiling, and you realize he’s been looking at you the whole time. You pull on the brakes, ready to say your goodnight, but he isn’t quite finished.

“What’s your favorite thing about leaving?”

There are so many things you love about it. You love how it means you have the freedom and capability to do anything you want. You love seeing new scenery, discovering places for the first time, meeting new people and learning their stories. It is such a human thing to want to leave, you think. You like everything about it, even the parts where you get completely lost or rained or snowed on because you weren’t prepared.

“Coming home,” you say.

He softens at this, a pleased look on his face.

“It’s like you’re gone for awhile and you see things for the first time, but then you drive back and you start seeing the familiar things — the streetlights, the driveways, the parks, the cafes… And all those constant things, they’re still there even when you leave, like they’re just waiting for you to come back.”

“You should know that. You’re always jetting off somewhere new,” you say.

“I leave because I have to. It’s part of the job.”

That conversation is ringing in your head the whole car ride to Jungkook’s house. Your knack for driving off is one of those things you never really share with anyone apart from your best friends. You never liked the thought of having to explain yourself to people, especially those you haven’t known for long, but with Jungkook, it never felt like you had to explain anything; you were always just sharing pieces of yourself that you knew he appreciated, that he somehow understood.

You pull up behind the black SUV parked in front of his place; the same SUV that you know his driver uses to take him to the airport. You turn off the engine and go through the half opened gate, up the steps and through the door.

You greet one of the members of his security team as she heads out the door and your eyes immediately turn to the two black duffel bags lying on the floor. They’re plump and full of things. You imagine all his black hoodies and sweatpants and leather jackets. You picture the bucket hats all neatly folded and his favorite Balenciaga sneakers tucked in somewhere. It feels weird, standing here at his foyer and just waiting for something to happen.

You hear steps skipping down the stairs and his voice, assuring “I’ll call you when I get there” to someone on the phone.

He’s looking down on it, texting someone who isn’t you. He does a double take, probably not expecting to see you standing by his door with a sad and confused look on your face.

You’re fidgety and you feel nervous. You never liked confrontations, even if you were convincing yourself that is not why you came here in the first place. You just want to see how he was doing, maybe ask what he’s been up to, wish him luck on the shows and that you’d see him when he gets back in two months.

“Y/N…” he starts. “I wasn't expecting you to be here.”

“Why, because you didn’t expect me to know you were leaving because you didn't tell me?” You say too quickly, resolve dissipating, tone and voice betraying you.

He looks taken aback. “Does it matter that I didn’t?” He says defensively, pulling up his duffel bags on a chair and seemingly looking for something inside one of them. You know he’s just distracting himself so he wouldn't have to look at you.

“You go home to your parents for three days and you ask to see me the day before, and now you leave for North America for two months and suddenly it doesn't matter that you don’t tell me?” Your voice is getting louder and you immediately wish you hadn’t come here at all. It seems like he doesn’t want you to be here just the same.

“You didn't even bother returning my calls or texts. And now you’re leaving. Your first show isn’t even until a week from now,” you say, crossing your arms. “What’s the rush?”

“I have a meeting with a producer,” he responds.

“That you couldn’t do during your free days there?” You snap back. You know this, you know they’re given some free time and he could’ve easily slipped that in there.

He sighs, knowing he can’t get out of this one. “I just want to be away from here, that’s all,” he says, glancing at you and then back at his bags.

“You mean away from me?”

He continues shuffling things in his duffel. He doesn’t even respond. You know it. He’s leaving because he wants to be away from you.

“What’s going on, Jungkook? One day we’re laughing our butts off until we fall asleep and the next you just… not call at all.”

“I just didn't feel like it, I guess,” he says, zipping one of the bags and adjusting its strap.

This infuriates you.

“Well that’s nice. It seemed like you always felt like coming over with dinner, keeping me company while I worked, convincing me to go out for drinks, meeting me at the café for breakfast but then all of a sudden you don’t feel like calling?” You bite back.

He’s silent for a while, as if finding the right words to say.

“You know what else is nice?” he starts, looking at you. “Calling me to come over on Friday nights when you don't feel like being out, asking me to stay the night and having me sleep next to you, kissing me and then telling me that ‘this feels nice and comfortable and fun’ and that I really am a great friend’.” His tone is angry, frustrated, desperate.

You feel your jaw drop open even if it’s closed. You did not see this coming at all. You always felt like you two were on the same page, that you like each other’s company so much that you prefer staying in on Fridays watching movies or National Geographic. You thought you both understand that sleeping next to each other only means you want to talk and laugh until you fall asleep, which is what happens all the time. You kiss then, which you treat like a goodbye because you don’t know if he’ll be there when you wake up.

“I never thought of you as the selfish and unfair type, but I guess there’s just too many layers of you that it takes time before this side of you comes out.” He swings both his bags to his right shoulder, hinting that he’s ready to leave, that he’s ready to leave things like this.

He starts walking towards the door. “They weren’t kidding when they said everything you touch turns into a mess.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What the fuck, Jeon,” is all you could say. You’d never seen him this upset. Worse, you’d never seen him this upset at you.

“So what, I turned us into this big mess and you leave just like that? Like it’s not even worth talking to me about whatever it is you’re feeling?” you ask, following his movements. He’s halfway out the door by this time.

You follow him out, overtake him and make sure he could see your face. “Leaving doesn't always solve problems.”

“Well, Y/N, sometimes it does. Because sometimes you’re not the problem, it’s what you leave behind.”

You look at his face, trying to find pieces of him you thought you’d figured out. He turns away, not wanting to see you like this. You see him soften a little bit, like he didn't mean for things to turn out this way, but you know he isn’t going to let up. You have so many questions running through your mind. What did this all mean? What’s going to happen now?

“It’s sad how when someone you care about tells you exactly what you are to them, you realize at that moment what they are to you, and it’s the complete opposite.”

He turns to look at you this time, his face screaming a kind of sadness you’d never seen before. You’d talked about him being homesick all these years when he’s out on tour. He’d shared how the gossip and his negative image have affected him and his relationships. He’d talked about how difficult it was holding onto things and people that were real, but none of those moments could compare to this one and to this look he has on right now that lets you know he’s upset and it has everything to do with you.

You’re the one he’s leaving behind. You’re the mess he wants to get away from. You’re probably the last person he wants to see before flying out because you’re the problem he doesn't want to deal with.

“Jungkook…” you start, although you have absolutely no idea what you want to say. You look at him, eyes pleading for something, anything.

“I have to go,” is all he says. He turns around, clutching his bags over his shoulders, and walks away.

No ‘see you around’ or ‘I’ll call you soon’ like always. It was just ‘I have to go,’ like it was the period to the past months you two have been hanging out. ‘I have to go,’ like ‘leaving you is this need I have to fulfill.’ ‘I have to go,’ like, ‘this is it.’

You watch him walk out the gate. You watch the car drive away. There’s always something poetic about watching someone leave. You’d been used to that growing up. Your parents were always leaving, saving lives in places that needed saving, but you always knew they’d still be thinking about you and missing you while they were away.

But with Jungkook, it was different. You hadn’t quite gotten used to him leaving all the time, and right now, you aren’t sure he’d be thinking about you or missing you while he was gone.

‘I have to go,’ he said. Like, ‘I’m leaving. I don't want to stick around. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be with you.’

Things don’t feel real. You’ve been driving for 30 minutes, unsure where to go, reeling over the conversation you just had with Jungkook, if you could even call it that. It’s like he just dropped a bomb on you that you didn't know he’d had all this time.

There was so much frustration and sadness on his face that morning and you couldn't get the image out of your head. What have you done? You kept asking yourself.

But you reason that none of this is your fault. You thought everything was clear between the both of you. Sure, you never really talked about it, but if he was really feeling differently about you, then why didn't he just say something?

“I’m heading out,” you say to Jaehyun over the phone. He’s always the first person you call when you feel like driving off.

“I’m guessing the talk with Jungkook didn't turn out well?” he asks.

You don’t respond. You don’t really want to say anything to your friends about all this until you’ve figured things out.

“Chae told me,” he says, interrupting the silence.

“Yeah, I figured,” you reply. Information is so fluid between the both of them.

“So where are you off to?”

“I don't really know, just wherever,” you say, but you know exactly where you’re going. It will just take another hour until you get there.

“Alright, just be safe,” he says, before hanging up.

You step on the gas and turn on the music. Anything is better than the silence that’s ringing in your ears right now. You hum to the tunes of Colde and LeeHi, praying to the heavens you won’t hear Jungkook’s voice on the next song. This is your ‘favorites’ playlist and he had sneakily included some of his band’s songs one day when you went out to the market to grab some fruits and he stayed at your place watching TV.

About 60 minutes later, you reach the place. It’s en route to a town a couple of miles south of the city. It’s a turn to the corner, onto a dirt road and a path lined with shrubs and small trees. The entrance to the main beach is right off the highway about a mile away, but you’d discovered this entrance not long ago when you drove off on a Sunday, two days after your ex-boyfriend came knocking at your door months after he broke up with you. It was the first time you spoke since then, and it was also the first time he ever tried to explain himself to you. You remember that trip; it was 7 months ago and it was also the last time you’d been here. Somehow you just felt the pull of this place.

You realize later on, as you sit on the shore watching the sky turn purple and orange, that you told Jungkook about this when you were here.

You watched the sunset then just like today. It looked so beautiful and so you snapped a picture and sent it to him. He was in Japan at that time for an event. You’d told him you’d fallen asleep and were just listening to the waves crash on the shore — your favorite sound in the world, you’d said. When it was all over, you decided to call it a day.

“I’m driving back now,” you’d told him. “Okay,” he responded, voice tired from the day he had. It was rare for you to talk to anyone when you were out. You felt like a part of home was tugging at you when you did. But Jungkook was away and you just wanted him to see what you were seeing. You felt it was a way for you to tell him that you were fine. He didn’t seem convinced when he’d left your apartment that Friday night after Jinyoung visited. The photo you sent of the sunset, and the next one of you lying on the sand, smiling, were enough to convince him that indeed you were.

“Okay. Hold on to the feeling once you see the familiar,” he’d said. He knew you loved that feeling. He always said he imagined a smile creeping from the left side of your mouth when you realized you were nearing home.

“You’re familiar, Jeon,” you’d told him.

You liked the idea, that you saw him as something familiar. You’d only known each other then for a few months but you’d talked as if it had been years. He was away but he still felt constant.

“So are you, Y/L/N,” he replied.

You were thinking about this, about him, as the dust settled and the sky’s now a pretty dark blue with tiny hints of burnt orange. The waves still sound majestic, truly something you can never get tired of. You feel the cold autumn air tingle your insides. You close your eyes and breathe in to try to immerse yourself in your surroundings, hoping against hope that something will click and things will make sense.

You’d spent the whole afternoon here yet you feel like nothing’s changed. He is on the plane to California and you’re still confused. You still have the same questions from last week, from this morning. He’s still your constant; you just aren’t sure if you’re still his.

Leaving doesn't always solve problems, you told yourself. You just wished you’d told him one more time. Maybe he would’ve stayed.

“We’re having Spanish,” Chaewon says as you enter her apartment. “And you’re late.” She continues, turning to you with slices of apples and oranges in her hands. You could hear the laughter and the cheers from the living room. Nobody’s minding you because a soccer game is on.

You envy their energy — why you agreed to continue to help run the cafe even with a full-time job, you don’t know, but it’s starting to take its toll on you and all you want to do is sleep. Jungkook and the guys will soon be in full preparation mode for the start of the tour and your superstar friend, who had now also claimed your own friends, wanted to have dinner with everyone before things got too busy.

“You cooked?” you ask, returning your gaze to her after looking out on who is already here.

“Nope. Take-out. But the Sangria is homemade.”

“Take-out?” you repeat, excitedly, making your way to the table to check on the food.

“Jungkook wanted Spanish and take-out,” Chaewon confirms, as laughter roars from the living room.

You walk over to check on everybody else who all acknowledge your presence with air fist bumps.

“So you’ve moved past Chinese and Japanese take-out and have gone for Spanish now, huh, Jeon?” you question. He gives you his signature bunny smile from his seat on the floor. He does that quite often when he’s showing off or after he’s done something nice.

“Hey, it’s a classy place and I get a discount. And, Chae sounded tired when I called so I took it upon myself to save dinner,” he proudly declares, standing up and motioning towards you. How cocky, you think, but you return his pinch on your cheek with a pinch on his nose.

Dinner is as fun as dinner with your friends always goes, but your hectic schedule that day made you extremely tired. After moving to the couch and a glass of Sangria later, you feel your head spinning and rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder. He notices your tired face, nudges at you and says he’s going to take you home. “Thanks, Jeon,” you murmur under your breath. “I promise I won’t puke.”

It takes a few glasses of water and a handful of profiteroles to get you sobered up and ready to head out. He helps you get in his car and you retreat to a semi-fetus position until the next corner.

“You’re really tired, aren’t you? You’re never this quiet during a car ride. Even when you’re drunk you won’t stop talking… or singing,” he teases. “Out of tune, I might add.”

You sit up from your sulking position. “Sometimes I just want to choke you, you know” you remark with a serious face.

“Do you want to feel the wrath of my women?” he questions, winking, referring to his army of fans who are protective of him, and for good reason.

“They’d probably want to do the same, only in a sexual way.” At this he laughs, shaking his head as if to say you’d done it again, teased him like this and made his cheeks blush.

The ride is a quick one for a Thursday night. You feel you haven't made fun of him enough as he pulls the brakes in front of your apartment building and immediately steps out and walks to your side before you could even thank him and say goodbye.

He opens the door and pulls you out like it’s routine, although you clearly remember he’d brought you home when you were drunk only twice, one of which was when he’d found you half-naked in your kitchen with a knife, ready to attack him. Since then, Jungkook had made sure to never let you be that drunk again, and always made it a point to feed you sweets so you’d stay awake.

He’s successful though — you’re sober and awake tonight. You’re just really tired.

You unlock your apartment door and he steps in with you, goes straight to your kitchen and makes you tea. He knows that chamomile makes you sleep well, and that’s exactly what he prepares.

“So comfortable in my place already, Jeon,” you say after realizing what he’s doing. He just knows in what cupboard your mug is kept, and in which box the chamomile is stored, and how much sugar you put, but then again, he did help you quite a bit organize your kitchenware. He opens a drawer to get aspirin - “Just in case,” he says. You watch him like he had done this many times before.

A small smile forms on your lips.

“Look, you’re tired and I convinced you to come tonight. If you don't sleep well, you’ll wake up in a bad mood and complain to me again that your neighbor’s cat is loitering on your steps… and then you’ll blame me.”

You laugh. For someone who deals with so many people everyday, it amazes you how well he remembers things about you like that.

“I was about to say how I like hanging out with you because you make me coffee or tea…”

“You’d do the same for me, Y/N, no matter how much you want to stop yourself from doing so.” He winks at you, tastes the tea, and places it on the counter.

You sit on the chair and feel the aroma of the tea soothe you. He stands there watching you, pleased with what he’s done. “You good?” he asks, and you nod behind your mug.

You don’t need to be taken care of, you’d told him once. You don’t need someone to be looking out for you when you’re drunk and being clumsy, when you’re busy and not eating, when you’re injured and unable to walk properly, when you’re stressed and needed a break.

“If you don’t want me here you could always just tell me, you know?” he’d said once. “I won’t take it personally. We’re good with each other that way.”

But you never asked him to leave. In fact, you always wanted him to stay, always asked him to.

“Ready to call it a night?” he questions, after you put down your empty mug.

You look up at him. You could feel your eyes falling and your body aching for a warm shower and your sheets. It’s been a crazy week and it isn’t even over. You want to rest, but you also don't want to be alone.

“Can you stay?” you ask, biting your lip and trying hard to pull off your puppy eyes so he’d say yes.

“Sure,” he says. He didn’t wait for an explanation. He didn’t need one. He just understood.

You give him a warm smile.

“I know you love my couch, but I might forget in the morning you’re here and I might stab you for real this time,” you state. “The bed’s big enough for both of us and Chandler,” you offer, referring to your hedgehog stuffed toy that’s about half your size.

“At least I get a blanket!” he claims.

“Thanks, Jeon.”

A soft smile appears on his face. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

By the time you decide to leave the beach, the sky has already settled in a midnight blue. The waves are crashing, and from across the water, you could see lights from the small town not so far away. You think about spending the night there, or driving someplace else and sleeping in your car until the next morning. But you decide to go home, even if you know you’ll just be thinking about him more if you do.

You turn on your engine, put the windows down, and listen to the wind. You think about this morning again. You’re still in denial that he’d said what he did and the implication that you probably led him on all these months.

But you’re convincing yourself that he couldn't pin this on you — he was always calling, he was always texting, he always wanted to be with you after a busy week, he always made it up to you when he couldn’t come over, he always stayed when you asked him to.

You two kissed, but it was a soft one, not ravenous or lust-filled. He didn't pull away and you didn’t try to deepen it. But he looked so good after their show and he was gonna be gone for the tour and the alcohol was talking and you let it.

You kissed again after that. There was no drunken night to blame it on the second time, but it was raining when you woke up the next day and he looked so warm and comfortable sleeping on your bed that you just felt like you had to. But he kissed you back, softly still, and he didn't say anything. He didn't pull you in for another one after.

If he really felt anything, then he should have. He should have grabbed you and told you he wanted more, that he was feeling differently, that things were changing. He should’ve done it then or any other time after that. He was always honest with you, but you didn't understand why he wasn't honest about this one, why he decided to just stop things and leave you hanging.

Maybe you weren’t away long enough, because you didn't even realize that you were already home until you saw your neighbor’s white sedan parked in your street. You pull the brakes and park behind it, thinking you were probably absent-minded the entire ride back.

There’s no warm feeling inside that you’re back. This wasn’t a trip that was meant to change anything or make you figure out how to fix things. All you thought about was that you miss him terribly, and maybe that’s what it was meant for, rub in your face that he’s gone.

You drag yourself up the stairs and enter your place. It suddenly feels like he’s everywhere in your apartment. You’d moved in last year and not even your best friends or your mom had imprinted enough of themselves inside.

There’s the cup Jungkook bought for you after he broke one of your favorites. There’s this pack of granola bars in your pantry that he got so you wouldn't have to gobble up ice cream when you were hungry. There’s the spare toothbrush he started using after his first night in. There’s your sweatshirt that he returned, and his hoodie that he said he’d get back the next time he sees you.

And there’s the counter where you both shared take-out dinners and homemade breakfast. And there’s your couch where you spent nights working while he watched TV on mute. And there’s your bed where he’d slept next to you a few times.

“I shouldn't have watched all those stupid chick flicks when he wasn't talking to me,” you think out loud. Now you’re left with an apartment that has him everywhere.

You’re not even together. You’ve shared so much of yourself to each other but never ‘I like you’s’ nor ‘I love you’s,’ not even ‘I miss you’, but why does it feel like you’ve shared all that and more? Why this sudden feeling of emptiness after he told you he had to go and then left just like that?

Everything you touch turns into a mess, he told you.

Your friends joke about it all the time. Your penchant for trying anything that remotely interests you doesn’t necessarily mean you’re good at it. Whether it’s decorating those Valentine’s cookies that Hyejin bakes, molding those vases during a pottery class you impulsively signed up for, or even making pajeon when Chae said you couldn’t fry anything other than your broken-yolk eggs, you just have the tendency to end up with final products that are nothing like what you intended. In look or substance, they’re just not that pretty. Jungkook always laughed along.

But he said it to you today like it burned him. As if to say, look at what you’ve done, I don’t want to be a part of this.

“So uhm, are you just going to sit there and watch us or are you going to help?” Jungkook asks from the floor of your living room, paintbrush in one hand, goodie bag in another.

Body sprawled on your sofa with legs hanging and kicking off the armrest, you look at him with a pout. “Jaehyun doesn’t want me to.”

Jaehyun sighs from where he’s sat on the floor. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N. It’s that I can’t afford to.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” bitterness apparent in your voice.

It’s a Sunday and your friends are at your apartment to help Jaehyun decorate the goodie bags he’ll be distributing to the kids at the orphanage that he volunteers at. Twice a year, he throws them a party that requires decorating giveaway bags that contain the books and sweets he’s bought with his own money. Jungkook ended up there because, well, by now you don’t question him anymore. They had a day-off and he said he was bored.

“Jaehyun’s being kind. Y/N’s just really shit at these things so he doesn’t let her touch these,” she says, holding up a bag where she’d painted a rainbow.

“You got the color order wrong,” you shoot at her. She responds with scowl.

“Come on, Jae. Pretty please. I promise I won’t mess them up like last time,” you plead to Jaehyun. You know he has a soft spot for you.

“You said that the last time, too” Hyejin chides.

“Wow thanks, guys. No one’ll even pretend to be on my side, huh,” you sit up and frown at everyone.

“Y/N, we are, like, most of the time.” You glare at your friend. “But I spent my money on these and the party is already next week and I really want the kids to feel hopeful and inspired, not scared, okay? And I want them to actually keep the goodie bags, not throw them away. It’s nothing personal, I promise.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you wave your hand at them and give up.

This is a usual occurrence. You know you’re useless with anything that involves the arts that’s why your only contribution every time you guys help Jaehuyn is your apartment as a venue.

Jungkook arrived an hour earlier with a glimmer and excitement on his face when he saw what your friends were doing, like a little kid at a candy store. He wasted no time and got right down to business. God, those kids who will get his bags would never know they were holding a goldmine.

“So what happened the last time?” Jungkook asks.

“She tried to draw a bear but it ended up looking like that character from the monsters cartoon, you know, the one holding its eyes?” Hyejin recalls, laughing as she recalls the proud look on your face and the distressed one on Jaehyun’s. “She tried to remedy it but like, just no. It looked terrible.”

“No kid would feel hopeful with that,” Chaewon adds.

“I really had to do quality checks of her work and I threw them all away cause they’d gone lumpy. She didn’t even mix the paint well,” Jaehyun continues.

“Yah! I think Jungkook got the message, okay?” You start chuckling, seeing Jungkook’s amused face and his effort to not laugh along at the thought of you being shut down for something you thought was a pretty thing you created. “I’ve accepted that art isn’t my forte.”

“So is cooking, baking, pottery, organizing, arranging…” You throw Chaewon a pillow, smack to her face like she deserves.

“But seriously. Trust her to score the final point of a championship game or write a 30-page report on housewifization and its subordination of women but if it isn’t sports or research, forget it. Everything she touches turns into a mess. RIP to all the cookies and goodie bags and vases that never saw the light of day,” Hyejin dramatically claims. “It’s kind of her thing.”

You shrug. It kind of is your thing. Your unartistic, unorganized, and mindless chaotic ass, for the life of you, just can’t get it together. Clothes and shoes all over the place, gifts wrapped in frayed gift wrappers, cooked food looking inedible… relationships that crash and burn because you couldn’t decide if you wanted to care or not, because you did whatever you felt like just cause you wanted to, because you got too close and didn’t know when to pull away… Yeah, definitely.

You turned to your friends who were all back to being immersed in what they were doing, proud look on their faces at the pieces that will definitely give joy and warmth to whoever will get them.

“I just mess things up, though. At least I don’t break them.”

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing in your ears, surprising you so much you almost fall off where you were lying.

“I’m outside,” Hyejin says on the other line. You get up and open the door.

She turns to you after seeing the blanket on your couch, realizing you had slept there instead of your bed. “Too much of Jungkook in your room, huh?” she says, looking sad, not realizing there was too much of him everywhere. You had just been too tired to go to your room when you got home, but you didn’t answer.

She takes your silence as a yes and walks to your kitchen to take out the bread and coffee she bought, then heads out to your terrace while you wash up in the bathroom.

You sit in front of her and eat your breakfast quietly while she watches you take small bites of your cheese bread. You tell her everything that’s happened the past 24 hours — from Jimin’s call to Jungkook’s out-of-left-field outburst.

“I think I led him on,” you say, head thrown back on the chair, eyes closed.

“Uh, you think?” Hyejin claims.

“How come none of you ever said anything?” you ask, looking at her. Jungkook didn't say anything; your friends didn’t say anything… Were you that naïve? That selfish? That stupid?

“Well, it’s not like you’d listen anyway,” she starts. “You always just do what you want. Like, sure constantly talk to the guy giving you heart eyes every time you look at him, go date the guy whose family is in Australia and would most likely go back and leave you, sure spend time and flirt with the insanely hot and kind and funny pop star… like there are no consequences to these things,” she unapologetically says.

“Is that so bad?” you ask.

You don’t want to sound defensive. You don’t have the energy to really argue with anyone.

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you didn't see this coming. With how you two were, one of you was bound to fall for the other.”

“We allowed ourselves to get that close, Hyejin, to be… this. Whatever this is. Or was. It’s not like we ever talked about it, though.”

She raises an eyebrow at you.

“But I just figured we were both mature enough to handle the consequences. I just don't understand why it has to be this screwed up.”

She looks at you as if she’s looking right to your soul. “It’s like you ask someone to play fire with you, and you don't mind if you get burnt. You don't mind if they get burnt, too. That’s what it’s like.”

“Getting burned is part of it. Getting hurt is part of it. I know that, and I always get over it,” you say.

“Yeah, but the thing is, you expect the same thing from the other person, too.”

You don’t like how right she is about all this.

“When you get hurt, you just walk away because you expect it and you accept it and then that’s it, goodbye to everything that was good. Move on to the next relationship that may or may not work out,” she continues.

You cover your face with your arms, as if somehow that’s going to be enough to make up for everything you’ve done.

“But that’s precisely why you always live in the moment, you know? To hell with being careful, or obsessing over whether or not doing something will hurt you. When you feel it that moment, you do it. And you’re okay if it hurts you, or if it leaves you with the shorter end of the stick. You get back on your feet right after anyway.”.

The day at the quad when Jinyoung broke up with you comes to mind. You didn’t even fight for it, you normally don’t; you’d rather spend that time getting over something and moving on.

“But Jungkook isn’t like that, Y/N,” she says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Don't you get it? He won’t tell you he feels differently. He won’t tell you and right then and there, realizing you don't feel the same way, just accept it and get over it.”

You look back to that last morning you had together, the tangled limbs, the morning kiss, watching him get ready, the words “stay a little longer” almost slipping past your lips like always, but instead saying that it was nice and comfortable and fun. He smiled then.

“Thanks for doing that for me; you really are a great friend,” is what you said before he left. So you weren’t dreaming the crestfallen look you saw on his face. With furrowed brows he took his phone, multiple messages probably telling him to go back to the dorm, and then he was gone.

Your eyes widen at the memory. That’s what he was referring to. You’d been too frustrated at him ignoring you that you didn’t even bother to think of what might’ve triggered it.

Hyejin seems to pick this up. “So are you now realizing you’re an idiot?”

You smack her arm and she winces, deservedly so.

“Okay, fine. I may have been one but to ignore me like that and then just leave? He waited last minute to tell me what he was feeling and then he fucking left, leaving me here confused and hurt and in agony. That’s way worse than my quick and easy,” you exclaim.

“Sometimes people will cover up the pain rather than just say they’re hurt. Some hearts are wired that way, Y/N. Not everyone does quick and easy. Not everyone gets to accept their own feelings, and upon realizing they’re not reciprocated, moves on right away like you do.”

You let everything sink in.

“It was my second time at that beach yesterday, you know?” You start after a long silence.

“The first time was after Jinyoung had come over to explain himself. I was already over the break up; I left to get over his reason for it. But yesterday when I was down there, all I could think about was how much I miss Jungkook. Like, it was the only thing going through my head the entire time I was there. He was always leaving but I always knew that when he got back, he’d be knocking at my door again…” you trail. You know it isn't going to be the same this time around.

“People have their own reasons for leaving, you always say that. You can never fault them for why they choose to. You leave because you want to figure yourself out. He left because he probably didn't want to deal with what he’s feeling for you.”

Feelings. You always made sure to keep yours in check, but Hyejin was right; you also always expected the same from him.

You look out on the city and get lost in your thoughts. People always thought of you as someone who had things figured out - you know what you want from life and from those who are part of it. You’d walked away from people and let them walk away from you when you knew it had to happen. But this whole deal with Jungkook feels like unfamiliar territory.

If it were someone else, you probably would’ve just let it go, but you keep thinking about Jungkook and the way his dimples still surprise you every time he smiles and how his laugh is so childlike and infectious it annoys you and warms your heart at the same time.

You can't get off your head how it feels to hear him say ‘good morning’ when you wake up and find his arm gently resting on your waist, your fingers always tempted to trace the ink decorating his own.

You warm at the thought of how he manages to make you feel better when you’re tired, how he never makes you feel hopeless when you’re being angry at all the unjust things in the world, how he reminds you of all the good there is during the times you forget.

You think of how you don’t want to lose all that.

“Feelings…” you say. You couldn’t get used to the idea that he has them for you.

“Do you have them too?” Hyejin finally asks.

You were so hung up on how the past week has been, that he ignored you, that he left, that you didn't even stop to think of why, and more importantly, what you feel for him.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ve never seen you like this with anyone, though.”

“It’s because I’ve never been like this with anyone.”

“Like what?”

“Cautious?”

“You mean, spending so much time together, constantly talking, kissing, is you being cautious?” She’s asks, incredulous.

You shrug. “It was never anything more.”

“Then why do you do them?” She snaps back.

“Because I want to? I’m always ready for him to turn me down.” It does surprise you every time he says yes to your requests, to your calls, your kisses. “But he never does.”

“But you don’t ask for anything more?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Hyejin groans. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“What did I say?!”

“How can you want all of that and none of it at the same time? Seriously, you guys are like, friends with benefits without the sex…”.

You throw her a piece of bread, scandalized with what she just said. But you laugh at this. Your friends had joked about that before; even his band mates agreed. You were everything and nothing at the same time, stuck in the grey scale that neither of you were willing to admit. Or move away from.

“I think you just wanted everything - you wanted company, you wanted him to stay the night, you wanted to kiss, you wanted him to hold you, you wanted to talk… You wanted to be friends.” When Hyejin says it like that, you do seem like a fool.

“But you didn’t want what those actually implied or even required from you,” she continues. “Almost like there’s this line you’ve set for both of you that only you can see.”

You sigh in frustration. You know when you drew that line, when you’d warned yourself to never cross it, when you’d promised yourself to never want more.

“I guess I always knew what I really felt… I probably just denied it or didn't want it enough,” you think out loud.

“So what now?” She finally asks the painfully obvious question. “What will you do now?”

“Wallow in my self misery and remind myself everyday that I'm an idiot,” you answer back.

“Hmm. You’re too easy on yourself,” she says.

You smack her arm again, which earns you a laugh from her. “I’m kidding! But seriously, now that everything's a little clear, what are you going to do?”

“Make things even clearer?” You sigh. “I feel like such a mess, Hyej. And he’s the one who usually cheers me up when I feel like shit but I can’t ask that from him, now can I?” You say, your body now slumped in your chair, feeling like you’re back to square one.

“You can’t and you won’t.” She walks over to you to pull you up like a big baby. “You’ve got 2 months to figure your shit out before he comes back. Better start now,” she says, as she ushers you back inside.

There’s continuous knocking on the door, causing you to get up from your seat on your work desk and you readied yourself to fight whoever decided to disturb your busy Saturday morning.

You open the door and are greeted with a loud bellow, your name being sung in opera-style by a certain doe-eyed boy.

“Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing! You’re gonna wake the neighbors,” you shout, pulling him inside.

“Your closest neighbor is an old woman who’s hard of hearing. I think we’re good,” he smiles, eyes all innocent-looking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. It’s one of those rare Saturday’s when the guys are afforded a full day off - no practice, no show, no filming. He always looked forward to days like this, which you expect he’d spend sleeping in or exercising or playing Overwatch.

“Got a free day,” he gleams.

“I know but what are you doing here?”

“You’ve been cranky and whiny this whole week. And you don’t respond to my memes,” he says, pouty lips making him look like a little kid that hasn’t been given much attention.

“I told you it’s work. I’m short on time to work on my reports since I got dragged to this week-long event. But I think my brain cells have dissipated; I can’t seem to construct simple sentences anymore,” you sigh, heading for your couch to sink into. “I’m sorry for not responding to your memes.”

“I’ll forgive you only if you come with me.”

“To where?” Your brow quirks up, finally taking in his baggy pants and loose white polo and bucket hat. “And what look are you going for with this whole get up?” You question, not missing the mismatched pieces of clothing and shades perched on his hat.

“Something unassuming. I asked Jin hyung for advice and raided Tae’s closet,” he shrugs.

“So what do you say? Come with me. Take a break! You won’t get any more productive being cooped up in here. Plus, artists need to go out for inspiration and you don’t seem like you’re getting it here,” he says with a smug look. You smack his arm, knowing that last bit he only said to mock you.

But it’s the words you always say to him; now he’s just saying them right back to you. “I promise to buy you snacks,” he says, reaching out his hand to you and pushing you to your room to get dressed.

And that promise he keeps. He rented a simple car so his luxurious one wouldn’t catch attention. You take a drive out of the city, sing your lungs out in the car, and go store hopping. You find supermarkets and convenience stores and little shops to look for different kinds of snacks that you both try and make reviews of. Every pretty view you see has you stopping the car and admiring the scene.

You inhale the fresh air, something you don’t get much in the city, and you appreciate this. You get back to your place, complain about your tummy aches, laugh until you fall asleep, tangled limbs and all, but not before telling him it was the most fun you’d had in a while and your brain feels rejuvenated enough to get the reports done in the next few days.

He falls asleep with that smile, the proud one he’d have on when you show your appreciation for him. He does like getting praises, that much you know.

You wake up to his quiet snores, cheek squished on the pillow with a hand over your waist, like always. You know you have to wake him up soon, which you do with a soft kiss, like always too. You watch him smile into the kiss and return it, until he finally opens his eyes to look at you.

“Get up, sleepyhead. They’ll be calling you over soon,” you say.

You watch him ready himself from your bed, still drowning in that kiss with a lazy smile on your face. You want to tell him to stay a little longer, even if you’re the one pushing him to get ready.

You always want to say that, whether it’s walking out the door at night or getting up from your bed in the morning. You always want to ask him to stay a little bit more but you never do, thankful for whatever time he could spare you, careful not to ask for more than what he could give.

Yesterday was good. You’d been drowning in work, and you’d blown off your friends this past week and you knew that Jungkook had a busy week as well. But yesterday felt nice. He’d given up his own free day to be with you and he willingly did so, knowing that you need it without you saying it out loud.

You had fun during the drive, and even more so exploring the store aisles, figuring out which brand of shrimp cracker or chocolate milk to get, buying all of them anyway, and excitedly opening them, finishing it all up and proceeding to give your review like those YouTubers you both liked to watch.

It always feels like this with him, but you had been so tired and drained that being with him yesterday just made you feel so happy. It showed with how you constantly leaned into him, how you rested your head on his shoulder as he was deciding on the size of banana milk he would buy, knowing he’d be resting his head on yours as a response.

You were missing physical affection and he was always willing to give you that, and you liked that he never seemed to ask for more. You’d initiate and he’d return, you’d pull and he’d let you, no questions asked. It felt comfortable enough, you thought. You didn’t have to explain yourself or your actions. It just always seemed like a given.

He’d said that he was dealing with a lot already as a pop star, that stuck with you and you knew from then on it was code for him not wanting to get into a relationship, and despite having being single for a little over a year already, you had too much going on in your life too that you didn’t really need any commitments at this point. You were on the same page, for sure.

It was nice and comfortable and fun, that’s what you tell him. You’re referring to the day you had, and what it’s like with him too, in general. You watch him pull his gray hoodie over his head. The black one, his favorite, you’d worn the night before, and you hug yourself to say you don’t want to return it yet.

He chuckles, “Fine. I’ll get it back the next time I see you.” You like his scent, but you’d never say this to him too.

You stand up to head to the kitchen, feeling refreshed and ready to be productive for the rest of the week. You know it had so much to do with the previous day, as if the laughter and smiles you had made up for that entire week when you barely did either. You give him a quick hug. “Thanks for that, Jungkook. You really are a great friend.”

His face falls a little bit, as he clutches onto his phone to check the multiple messages probably telling him to go back home. You don’t think much of it. When you turn back to him, he’s gone.

part 1 drabble <<>> part 2 drabble

series masterlist

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts jungkook #idol jungkook

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misteria247 · 3 years

Text

The car ride to your mother's felt like it happened in the blink of an eye by the time you pulled up into the driveway. The familiar house that you'd grown up in stood proudly in front of you as you parked your car. Elliott sat quietly in the backseat, his big green eyes focused on the house with a somewhat blank stare. Turning a bit to face your son you gave him a small look, concerned.

"Are you alright little one?"

You asked softly. Elliott blinked and looked away from the house to look at you.

"I'm okay Mama."

Elliott said his gaze flickering back to the house. You gave him a long searching look, opening your mouth to say something else when you heard your mother's voice calling out from the doorway.

"(Y/N)! Elliott! You're finally here! Do hop out of the car and come inside! I've just finished making a jug of sweet tea for you two!"

Your mother's voice chirped happily. You sighed softly and let it drop, planning on talking to your son later. As soon as Elliott heard your mother's voice he began to bounce in his booster seat, eyes sparkling with happiness. You couldn't help but chuckle softly as you got out of the car and went to let your son out. As soon as he was set free and on the ground he bolted towards your mother, his face bright.

"Grandma! Grandma!"

Elliott shouted in childish delight. Your mother laughed bending down to catch your son in her arms. The older woman held him tightly and hugged him.

"Oh my goodness it's my favorite grandson!"

Your mother cooed earning a giggle from Elliot. You followed up behind him standing before your mother and son, a soft affectionate smile on your face.

"I'm your only grandson grandma!"

Elliott chirped happily. You mother smiled pretending to look surprised.

"Oh that's right! But that doesn't mean you aren't my favorite!"

Your mother said lovingly before kissing his chubby cheek earning a squeal of delight from the child. Your mother let go of Elliott shortly after and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Hey sweetheart, how have you been?"

Your mother asked you softly, her eyes holding a mother like worry in them.

"I've been good. A bit stressed but I'll live. It's good to see you mom."

You said softly with a smile. Your mother smiled back at you before letting you go and leading you and Elliott into the house. You couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia hit you as you stepped inside the old house. The house was just the same as when you'd left it with your small son Elliott when you'd finally found a place to live for the two of you. Elliott was quick to go running deeper into the house, wanting to play and explore the place despite being here several times before. You and your mother laughed at the boy's enthusiasm before heading towards the kitchen to sit down and chat for awhile with each other. A good talk with your mother was a good way to forget the phantom pain of remembering and missing him.

~~~~~

Elliott ran further into his grandmother's home, being careful not to appear too excited to leave you and his grandmother alone while he explored the house for the billionth time in a row. As he heard the sounds of you and your mother's footsteps heading towards the kitchen area to have your chatting time, the small boy slowed his pace and quietly made his way towards the stairs that lead to the basement. With a somewhat hesitant hand Elliott opened the door and crept down the stairs towards the darkness below. The basement was dark and musty smelling as he descended down the rickety old stairs, his heart pounding in his small chest. Elliott knew that he shouldn't be down here alone, as the basement was incredibly old and needed desperate attention in the cleaning area. However he believed that the possible punishment for being caught would be worth it in the end, if what he'd been told was true.

The boy continued onwards trying to remember what he was supposed to be looking for. Finally he hit the bottom stair and stepped onto the ground floor. Bright green eyes scanned the darkness of the place, looking for something that might be out of place. After searching for a moment or two and finding nothing out of the ordinary Elliott couldn't help but feel a lump form in his throat.

"So he lied....."

The child muttered in a somewhat shaky and frustrated voice. He'd broken the rules for nothing. Elliott sunk to the ground not caring about getting his clothes dirty as frustrated tears started to sting in his eyes. He should have known better than to try and look for something that didn't exist, but he couldn't help but hope that perhaps this person was actually helping him in a way. Elliott sniffled wiping his cheeks angrily. He felt betrayed and incredibly hurt by the lies that his supposed friend told him.

'Mama always said to be careful....'

Elliott's conscience whispered making him wilt at the thought of you. Elliott honestly wouldn't have been down here in this smelly basement if it wasn't for you, his precious mother. The child hiccuped as his frustration boiled up. His friend was a liar and because of that you were going to be upset with him and possibly hurting. The thought of your face filling with that hint of sadness made Elliott's heart twist. He hated the thought of you being sad, he hated the sight of your tears. He maybe six but he wasn't stupid, in fact he was a rather clever child for his age.

'Not clever enough to not listen to a dream....'

The thought whispered nastily making him flinch. The dream that introduced him to his strange friend. The dream that allowed him to talk to his friend, the strange creature in the mirror. The friend who was a liar.

'Go to the basement at your grandmother's house Elliott. You'll find the answers that you seek there.'

The voice echoed in the back of his mind, the high pitched tone ringing in his ears. Elliott shook his head angrily as more tears started to spill down his pale cheeks. He didn't know what to do or what to look for, he'd only wanted to help you be happy and he couldn't even do that much. Instead he ended up listening to a weird creature that didn't even exist and it was a fruitless attempt.

"I'm sorry Mama...."

He whimpered softly. Elliott buried his face into his knees and finally gave into his tears and his overwhelming feeling of disappointment. He had only wanted to see you smile a real smile, from the moment he could understand things he had noticed that you always seemed saddened by something. Your smiles seemed dull and your eyes held pain whenever you would look at him. He could still remember how he'd heard sobbing coming from your bedroom at night when you believed him asleep, making him want to cry with you. It was around this time that he'd started getting the dreams and when he'd met his friend. Every night he'd find himself in a place unfamiliar yet familiar all at once, a large mirror always facing him with the shadowed figure of his friend speaking to him. And each night was filled with conversation and other things, which at the time made perfect sense to him. But now sitting in the dark basement alone covered in dust and dirt and dried tears did Elliott realize how stupid it was. The child rubbed his eyes again, trying to get rid of his tears before standing up slowly. He knew that as soon as you saw him you'd scold him for coming down here without an adult.

Elliott sucked in a shaky breath and brushed himself off before making his way back towards the stairs. As the boy went to step onto the first stair a sudden small light caught his eye. Turning towards the light Elliott narrowed his eyes to see what it was before a cloud of confusion covered him. Sitting on the wall on the far side of the basement was a mirror. Elliott stared at it, a sudden ray of hope bursting inside him. Could it be....? The small child didn't hesitate as he turned from the basement stairs and made his way towards the strange shining mirror. Once he made it he stood in front of it with a curious gaze, unsure of what he should do.

Was this the thing his friend was talking about? Was his friend actually telling him the truth?

Before he could ponder these questions the six year old felt something perk up deep inside himself. An ancient pull leading him and calling out to him as he stepped closer to the mirror.

'Come closer.....'

Elliott stepped even closer the once unsure feeling disappearing as he gazed into it.

'Come.....come to me......child of the throns and man......'

Elliott couldn't help but obey, his hand reaching out towards the mirror and its smooth shining surface. Alarm was shooting through him as he realized what was going on and he couldn't help but panic mentally as his body moved on its own, his hand touching the mirror. What had happened next was something that Elliott had never experienced before. The shining mirror seemed to beam and engulf him causing a sudden feeling of pure childish terror to overwhelm him. Elliott didn't hesitate in what he did next as he opened his mouth and let out the loudest terrified scream a six year old could muster.

"MAMA-!!!!"

~~~~~

The sound of a child screaming made you fly out of your chair, your mother right behind you. Adrenaline and fear forced you to move faster than you usually would, your parental instincts screaming.

'Elliott's in danger! My baby.....he's in danger.....!'

Your mothering instincts screamed. You bolted from the kitchen towards the sounds of Elliott's screaming. You felt your blood freeze as you heard the pure terror in his tone as he screamed for you, his voice coming from the basement.

"MAMA-!!!"

You about threw yourself down the flight of stairs, jumping down a good few of them to get to him faster.

"ELLIOTT!!!"

You screamed out as you ran down the stairs nearly tripping over your own two feet. You didn't hear your mother shouting out you or Elliott's names, too focused on getting to your son. You had a few more stairs before you finally got to the ground floor.

'Please....! Oh dear God please don't let my baby.....!'

You pleaded desperately as your feet finally touched the basement floor. You were nearly blinded by a bright light and you watched in muted horror as your beloved son was engulfed in a bright light. You didn't think, only acted at that moment. You flew towards your son and grabbed him making him shriek in terror before he realized it was you. Pulling him closer to you, you clung to him for dear life shielding him as the light engulfed you as well. You only managed to see a glimpse of your mother's horrified face coming down the stairs before you and Elliott were blinded and the world disappeared around you.

~~~~~

You were free falling, your body tossed out of the mirror like a ragdoll as you curled up around your son. You hit the ground harshly, your shoulder and side hitting a marbled floor. You yelped in pain as your body made contact making Elliott cry out.

"Mama!!"

The boy sobbed in a shaking voice clinging to you. You held him tightly to you sitting up on the ground and holding Elliott out to look him over.

"Are you hurt?!? Elliott answer me please!!"

You begged him as you looked for any possible injuries. Elliott blinked shaking slightly before he answered.

"I-I'm okay mama...."

He whispered. You felt yourself sag in relief seeing and hearing that your son was okay. Pulling him back into a tight hug you kissed the top of his head. Elliott clung to you and started to sob as the panic and fear began to wear off. You shushed him softly, rocking him in place to help calm him down. As you did this you were unaware of the presence that appeared in the room with you.

"(Y/N)......?"

A voice suddenly spoke out in the room making you jump and quickly turn towards the voice, keeping Elliott away from the source with a protective embrace. Your gaze landed on a familiar face, one that you thought you'd never see again.

"No.....it can't be......!"

*Evil laughs. Cliffhanger anyone? I was feeling inspired today and I just went with my brain cell weeee! It seems the reader and her baby boy Elliott are in a rather unpredictable situation. Who's the voice that knows you? Who's Elliott's mysterious friend? Only time will tell! Next time on DBZ- jk jk sgdgdgdgf. Anyways sorry if this sucks and if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*

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bi-reginald · 3 years

Text

put me in a car (i just want to go home)

Bobby’s turning eighteen tomorrow and he thinks he’s going to throw up.

Bobby doesn't want to grow up without Sunset Curve.

ao3 link in the reblogs!

Bobby’s turning eighteen tomorrow and he thinks he’s going to throw up.

He’s laying in his bed, just watching the clock tick on. It’s twelve past nine at night. Now it's thirteen past nine. With the passage of time, comes ugly dread building in his gut.

Everyone keeps nudging him in excitement, and asking him whether he’s ready to be an adult. He acts like he’s joking when he says he’s not ready, but there's a lot of truth to his words. He’s not sure if he’ll ever be ready. Not without… not without them. It’s his birthday tomorrow and he’s feeling sick to his stomach.

Bile had risen in his throat when his grandma called and asked what he wanted as a present a week ago.

“I dunno, ma,” he had told her, sure that all his secrets were exposed through his voice alone, “surprise me.”

She didn’t seem to notice, which resulted in a battle between relief and frustration. Bobby didn’t really know what to feel these days. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Alright,” she had said after a few minutes of mindless chatter, “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

The words hung heavy in his throat. He’s sure he’s going to get fucking cologne again, but why does it even matter? He’s turning eighteen and they’re not here.

He’s still lying on his bed when his dad offers to go on a drive with him and he feels sick. It shouldn’t even remind him of them but it does and its stupid because he’d never driven with them before. Never even talked about it. But there’s something in the way that his dad turns up the radio that reminds him of Luke, a little bit of Alex in the way he chastises him when he forgets to turn on his indicator, and he knows that if Reggie were in the back he’d telling him that he was doing a great job no matter how shitty of a driver they both knew he was.

He wishes he could drive alone, but even more so he wishes he hadn’t said yes to the stupid drive in the first place because it’s his birthday tomorrow and they are gone.

“They cared about you, you know,” his dad says finally, not looking him in the eye. Bobby isn’t surprised that his dad knew what was on his mind. They were on his mind a lot.

No fucking shit, Dad. Bobby wants to punch and scream because he knows and that makes it a hundred times worse. He knows that they cared and if they hadn’t, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so fucking much. The phrase makes him think of the funeral, strangers and friends alike telling him empty words that they were just saying in a poor attempt at comfort. ‘They cared’ means jack shit to Bobby - he knows they cared. He wouldn’t be here, the day before his birthday, about to cry in his dad's shitty car if he didn’t know they cared. He wishes people would just shut the hell up because he’s mourning and he doesn’t need to hear that his friends liked him.

“Yeah,” he says instead, “I know.”

He pulls over, if only for road safety’s sake. He’s not sure how he’s going to drive in this state, especially when tears are threatening to blur his vision. He turns his head to the side because his dad is the last person he wants to see him cry. Its so fucking stupid and he’s going to vomit because tomorrow he’s eighteen and they aren’t coming back.

At some point he decides that enough is enough, so he gets out of the car, probably slamming the door a little too hard. He doesn’t go far - just far enough to find an empty can to kick as aggressively and as far as he can. It does nothing to help him feel better. A part of him wants his dad to stay where he is. He doesn’t think he can deal with anything that he does if he joins him. The other part wants him to follow him out just to avoid the discomfort of getting back in the car when he’s done sulking.

But his dad, to Bobby’s surprise, does neither. No, his dad gets into the driver’s seat and drives off.

It takes three seconds to register, but once it does, Bobby just blinks. The sheer absurdity of it all shocks him out of his grief for a moment. His dad wouldn’t just leave him at - he checks his watch - 10pm on the side of the road to find his own way home.

He spends five minutes swearing and debating whether to start to walk home or not, before his dad parks next to him, rolling down the window.

“...I got you gummy bears.”

“You LEFT me here, at ten o’clock, to get gummy bears?” He asks, appalled, “You didn’t even tell me where you were going!”

His dad at least has the decency to look sheepish.

“You like gummy bears.”

Bobby has to cut him some slack - he’s never been good at the whole… emotional aspect of fatherhood, but at least he’s trying. Something Bobby hasn’t been doing much of lately. Granted, Bobby thinks he’d rather not be left stranded on the side of the road, but he does like gummy bears.

And if it takes leaving him on the side of the road for Bobby to snap out of this depressed state he’s in, well, he’ll take what he can get.

So, he hops in the passenger seat, and eats some gummy bears and tries to pretend he’s not still sick with the idea that he’s growing up and they're not.

And what do you know, it works a little. He can pretend on the drive home that the gummy bears are just a snack, that his dad didn’t just leave him on the side of the fucking road, that the song playing on the radio doesn’t remind him painfully of Sunset Curve.

At some point, he’s not sure when, he gets home and goes straight back to his bed. Not to sleep - he doesn’t think he can sleep. Hours speed by like seconds and seconds feel like hours but, staring at the clock, he manages to make it to 11:59pm. The minute before he turns eighteen.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to no one in particular, “I shouldn’t be the only one left.”

Or maybe he says it to three people in particular. Either way, whoever he’s saying it to isn’t there, and he has a gross feeling in his stomach as he watches the time tick past twelve.

Bobby’s turning eighteen today and he thinks he’s going to throw up.

#cw vomit mentions #like a lot of them #theres nothing described but he mentions needing to a lot #bobby shaw #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fics #sunset curve

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crazy4myself · 4 years

Text

No Harm List | Pt. 5

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 9,494

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is one of the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of drugs

Genre: Gang/mafia AU, romance, angst, violence, fluff

Rating: 17 N/C

Banner Credit: @mindays

A/n: So it’s been a whole month since I’ve updated and I’m so sorry. Between work and the baby, it’s been impossible to find time to write. I know the chapter is a little shorter than promised, but that’s because it got soo freaking long that I had no choice but to split it into two. But as a result, you got a bit more Jungkook and Ella fluff, so you’re welcome. I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always please let me know your thoughts because it really does help me write!

Also thanks again so much @mindays for this rockin banner!!!!

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You sighed as you took another bite of your cookie, it was delicious, but it wasn't perfect. Something about the texture felt off too you. The cookie felt homemade in the unprofessional way, not the 'grandma's classic' way Sugar Daddy always delivered.

"Jimin," you whined as you set the half-eaten dessert next to you on the counter, frowning at the cooling batch. Jimin made his way over to you, smiling as he reached for the other half.

"What is it, princess?" he asked, taking a bite and raising his eyebrows in delight.

"Don't humor me, you know I did something wrong," you grumbled. While you have overcome most of the baking learning curve your past two weeks in the kitchen, most of your baked goods being tasty enough to sell upfront (when Jimin decorated them), they were not perfect.

You were still learning your way around the chemistry it takes to make the 'perfect' cookie.

"You did, but we'll figure it out" he confessed as he shoved the rest of the baked good in his mouth before clapping his hands, "C'mon walk me through it," he ordered and you turned back to your work station with a sigh,

You both loved and hated Jimin's guidance. Loved because he was brilliant in the kitchen and caught your mistakes in a heartbeat, he was eager to teach you and rarely judged you for your incompetence. You hated it because you felt embarrassed, you were hired to do a job you weren't excelling at, and it took a hit on your ego.

Not to mention Jimin dropping everything he was doing to help you get it right was also slowing him down when opening up the bakery.

"Are you sure you have time?" you asked peeping at the clock, it was 7:45 you still had a few minutes before the bakery opens at 8. Enough to prepare one more batch of cookies to put in the oven.

"Yeah I'm good, Jungkook had a hard open this morning, I just came in a little earlier than you did so the kid could take a nap," he says with a shrug.

The bakery had two opening shifts; the 'hard open' has a report time of 4:30 am where the bakers have to prepare all the bread, breakfast pastries, and any custom orders for the day. And the soft open starts at 7 am.

Lucky for you, you hadn't proven valuable enough to qualify for the hard open just yet, and you were clinging to your mornings of sleeping in as you slowly passed through your 'new girl' phase at the bakery.

"Jungkook? Really I didn't even see him," you said surprised, certain the two of you would have crossed paths on his walk home.

But when you turned and looked at the apron hooks at by door, you saw his apron, which simply stated, Let's get this bread, was hanging front and center, confirming he had come by today.

Jimin smiled a knowing smile, "That's because he went to nap in the apartment upstairs," Jimin teased. "Now come on we have cookies to make."

You reached for the ingredients, and you and Jimin carefully measured out before turning to the mixture, "So the apartment upstairs, is that one of your safe houses?" you asked tentatively.

You were slowly, but surely introducing yourself into BTS's world the past two weeks of working here, asking Jin and Jimin and any of the other members who came by to visit tentative questions about the gang's inner workings.

Jimin grinned, amused, "Kind of, it's definitely a safe place for our members to use, but we don't put anyone up there if they're on the run. Can't risk having the place raided- it's bad for business." he added as an afterthought as you looked at him with a raised brow.

"Why else would they need a safe place?" you asked, confused on what dilemma the men you were slowly getting to know could worm their way into and not out.

"Well, Army comes from all parts of life," Jimin started with a shrug. "A lot of them join because they don't have anywhere to go, or they need a place to getaway. The apartment upstairs is for people like them, people who need to escape their homes." Jimin explained.

That was one thing you could never see to make yourself forget about BTS as much as you want to write them off as criminals and be upset with Hoseok about what he has done.

They honestly were trying to make Alcorn a better place for the forgotten. The kids who can't help but have the circumstances dictate their outcomes. Who has no way to better their resources on their own?

When Army takes the tattoo, an inversion of the inner circle's symbol, they traditionally get it placed on their forearms, but some can choose to have it on their upper arm or chest. They can also choose its size.

You met a member who had the small shape in the fleshy crook between their thumb and pointer finger, Getting the tattoo in a small place ensured that it was easy to cover or remove if they chose to leave BTS. A concept you were still trying to wrap your head around because of the series of dizzying rules that follow it.

"Well, that's your problem," Jimin laughed as he watched you distractedly sift your dry ingredients into the mixer.

"What am I using the wrong sized sifter?" you asked, confused as you looked for another tool nearby to check if there even was a size difference.

He laughed, "No, but you put your sugar in as a dry ingredient, have you been doing that this whole time?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, why wouldn't I sugar is dry" you sad dumbfounded

"No, the sugar counts as a wet ingredient," he chided

"But it's dry its-" you couldn't form words as you tried to process what he was telling you, looking between him and the bag of sweet crystals in outrage.

He giggled at your expression, "It's treated like a wet ingredient because it's soluble it dissolves better in the liquid, making the texture softer and less gritty." You growled at his explanation, it made perfect scientific sense, but you were still infuriated by sugar being identified as the wrong physical property.

"Well what about salt is it property fluid as well?" you snapped accusingly,

Jimin couldn't help but giggle at your frustration, "No salt can go in as dry, because the cookies rely on the chemical reaction of the salt to control the rate the dough releases carbon dioxide," he explained simply.

You blinked at him expression vacant as you processed what he was saying, Jimin sighed; clearly, you didn't pay much attention in your college chemistry class. "It keeps from making giant air bubbles," he dumbed down, and your eyes lit up in understanding.

You grunted in frustration as you watched Jimin dump your dry batter out of the mixer. Before you could think to stop yourself, you reached for a handful of sugar out of the back and threw it in his face in frustration.

"Hey, what are you doing!" Jimin demanded as you pelted him with another hit

"I'm splashing you; what else would you call it" you teased as you threw another handful showering his apron, which proudly had Hot Buns embroidered across it, in the sweet crystals.

"Look at how WET you are. You're absolutely soaked," you continued as you berated him much to his distress.

"What's going on?"

You turned at the gravelly sound of Jungkook's morning voice, seeing the boy squinting in the bright light of the kitchen.

"Koo, thank goodness this insane woman was attacking me." Jimin hissed at you.

You threw one more pinch of sugar before you smiled sheepishly as you were caught in your childish antics, thankful it was Jungkook and not Jin who walked in on you blatantly making a mess of his kitchen. You looked down as you remembered your place.

"I'll grab the broom," you murmured as you moved to clean up your mess.

"I'm sure you deserved it," Jungkook told his brother as he put up a hand to stop you. Grabbing the broom from the wall himself, "I got it you go open up front Ellie" he mumbled tiredly as he began sweeping.

You smiled at him in gratitude and reached to ruffle his hair endearingly, before sticking your tongue out at Jimin, who just muttered "Unbelievable" under his breath as he turned back to his work station.

You had already started the coffee and filled up the display area when you were waiting for your cookies to bake. So you only needed to unlock the front door and add today's specials to the chalkboard menu on the counter before Sugar Daddy was in business for the day.

"Mornin' princess," you heard a tired voice mumble, and you looked up from the curling S in the word 'chicken salad' to see Yoongi in front of the counter swaying where he stood like he was at risk of falling asleep right there.

You set down the chalk as you greeted him, quickly rinsing your hands off and fixing a large iced Americano before he could even make the order himself.

"Anything for breakfast?" you asked as you handed him the cup, watching with a satisfied smile as he slipped the reusable straw you had given him a week prior. Yoogi simply grunted before taking a long sip of his drink.

"I'm good," he said with a satisfied smile, already looking more alert as the caffeine instantly revived him, there was even more color to his cheeks.

"Okay, that will be $2.75," you chirped in your best customer service voice, but your hands didn't move for the iPad that made up your register.

"Cute," Yoongi laughed before turning away with a smirk, "You got jokes, Ella, keep it up, and I might tip you one day," he called over his shoulder before letting himself out of the store. You gritted your teeth.

Your first day of handling the register by yourself, Min Yoongi came in and ordered an Americano, when you rang him up he gave you a dismissive, 'put it on my tab,' before stepping out of the growing line of the morning rush behind him. You were frantic as you searched for the setting where you could open tabs, watching in distress as Jimin quickly handed his elder the drink, and he made his way out the store, all while impatient customers tapped their foot in front of you.

"I don't know how to open a tab," you finally called to Jimin after he came to check on what the hold up was. Jimin let out a loud belly laugh amused by your distress as he closed out Yoongi's order with a simple, "He never pays."

You never got an explanation as to why or how that happened, but you do know Yoongi drinks at least 10 ten iced americanos a day. While the diluted espresso wasn't a huge financial strain, you wondered how many disposable cups Jin lost to Min Yoongi each week.

You were always a bit of an environmentalist and had taken personal responsibility to try and reduce Yoongi's waste output. He accepted your gift of a reusable compact straw he could attach to his keychain, noting it made his drink taste cooler when he sipped through it.

But you were still working on how to get him to reuse his cups. The man was unwilling to carry around a reusable one all day, claiming it was a hassle and didn't want to wash it.

Environment and economics aside, there was the whole other concern that you were fairly certain Yoongi drank more coffee than water. And you were worried his little heart was going to give out from the caffeinated strain one day.

"Cute handwriting," Jungkook whispered over your shoulder, making you startle and causing you to mess up the flower you were doodling next to the lunch special.

You pouted, sending him a small glare as he smiled sheepishly, "I'm going to get you a bell to wear around your neck, so you don't sneak up on me like that," you threatened as you smudged the haywire petal.

Jungkook smirked as he took the chalk from you, "You going to have to ask a bit more nicely if you wanna see me in a collar," he teased as he drew a perfect flower over yours. You flushed at his comments as you turned away.

You and Jungkook had gotten closer in the few weeks you had been working at the bakery. Apparently, he was grounded by his gang dad's for a situation you still didn't understand, and part of his punishment involved working opening shifts at the bakery before class.

He was starting to get more comfortable around you, and the shy bashful Jungkook you had been acquainted with two weeks prior had faded in your shared mornings kneading dough in the kitchen.

To your dismay, he had grown bold and cocky, and a never-ending pain in your ass as he wasn't afraid to joke and tease you anymore. And if you thought bashful Jungkook was dangerous, you had nothing to prepare you for his confident persona.

"I wouldn't need a bell if you stayed aware of your surroundings," he pointed out as he continued to sketch a cute kitten on the bottom of the menu.

You sighed, "It's too damn early for this Jeon," you murmured as you made your way to the coffee station, grabbing your personal mug and pouring your coffee and cream into it. Before reaching for Jungkook's to-go cup to fix his drink.

"It's always too early or too late when are we going to talk about this?" he asked, turning to face you. "I'm not going to be able to walk you home every night, ya know."

"Not even if I ask nicely," you asked over the rim of your cup, batting your eyelashes at him innocently. He scoffed, but you could see the blush creeping up his neck as you wormed your way under your skin.

"Jungkook, I've lived in Alcorn for four years now, not once has anyone got the best of me," you gave him a look that clearly said unlike you, "I'm pretty sure I'm fine," you finished as you turned back to steaming the caramel syrup into his milk.

"Things are different now," he argued.

"No, they're not, Kook I can handle my own," you sighed, growing tired of the back and forth, asking yourself why you were even making this ungrateful brats coffee.

"Ooh, are we talking about how Ella can or can not kick ass?" Jimin asked as he made his way from the kitchen with a tray full of muffins.

Your concentration broke as his outburst, and a large portion of milk plopped into Jungkook's mug, ruining the heart you were practicing in the drink. "No," you hissed in frustration, grabbing the caramel sauce to doodle a smiley face over your mistake. Jungkook smirked as he watched you work more willing to hold his tongue when his coffee was on the line.

And to your relief, the bell chimed as customers made their way in the bakery. You brushed past Jungkook, handing him his drink as you took your place at the register, effectively ending the conversation as you greeted the customer. He sighed but surrendered for now.

Jungkook has been pushing to give you self defense lessons since your first day at the bakery. While BTS made sure to keep an eye on you while investigating the Black Tips incident.

Jin got word that the men who ambushed Jungkook, were there for him in advance. And while they could assume the leek came from one of Sylvia's men if not the trafficker himself, no one has found out why Jungkook would be a target—not finding any leads from the Black Tips themselves.

Jungkook was nervous, he was used to their being a target on his back, but no one had ever had the guts to aim for it before. And while he got away that night, he hated knowing he dragged you into this mess. He couldn't stand the thought of you being in danger of helping him. He needed to know you could protect yourself if you somehow ended up on your own.

Jungkook took a quick sip of his coffee, trying to keep his face neutral despite the incense sweetness that attacked his tongue. While it was true, he favored a sweeter drink like a caramel macchiato in the afternoons; he preferred something stronger like a plain coffee with one cream and two sugars in the morning.

Not to mention the amount of syrup you used to decorate his drinks when you failed at latte art was enough to give him a cavity. Jungkook couldn't bring himself to complain, though.

He liked the gesture of you taking the effort to make him a cup every morning too much. He smiled to himself as he grabbed his backpack and headed to his morning classes.

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The bakery had a steady flow of customers that morning, and the constant work kept you busy enough to keep your mind from wandering during your shift. But as you got off that afternoon to head to your classes, you couldn't help but dwell on the thoughts you tried your hardest to avoid.

It has been two weeks since you talked to Hobi.

Well really talked to him, he still sent you text every evening to check-in that you were safe, and you were guilty of doing the same if you ever heard too many police sirens or gunshots in the night.

But check in's aside this was the longest you had gone without seeing him since your friendship started.

You missed his unannounced arrivals at night where the two of you would eat junk food and put on movies only to talk over them, or when he would call you to come downstairs to help him test drive a car, and you would beg for mercy on your life as he sped down winding, back roads blasting the music so loud you felt the bass dance in your bones.

You struggled to focus on your lectures through the afternoon, before finally settling for mindlessly taking notes and hoping you could piece together the information on your own later.

You had a test in one of your classes two days from now and planned on grabbing lunch on campus and staying at the library late into the evening to prepare, but you couldn't see yourself focusing by then either.

You decided to go to the gym after your last lecture.

Your university had a free gym for students on campus, and while you frequented the cardio exercise classes like Zumba, there was nothing quite like running till you can't think anymore on the treadmill or lifting weights to clear your head. You figured getting your frustration out with your workout would help you think more clearly with how you should approach the Hoseok situation.

After your lecture let out you made your trek across campus to head to the gym; it was around 4 pm that weird hour that wasn't quite afternoon but wasn't quite evening, where students that weren't in classes didn't know what to do with themselves and usually found themselves submitting the hour to Tick Tock in the Student Union, so the gym was relatively empty.

You were a frequent rule breaker and left your gym bag in your locker between visits, despite what the signs in the locker room ask, so you always had a change of clothes for when sparattically decided to workout.

You were quickly reminded why that was a rule when you opened the door to the musty scent of your dirty work out clothes. You were obviously in need of a fresh set.

You made a mental note to bring your gym bag home and bring back a fresh set next time you came to campus as you moved for the changing areas.

You scrunched your nose at the musty smell. Before reminding yourself, you were going to stink no matter what after your workout and forced yourself into the smelly electric blue compression leggings and sports bra it was one of your favorite sets the color made it look bold despite its minimalist design. Not to mention the leggings made your ass look great.

You weren't an athlete by any means growing up, but you took advantage of the resources provided to you when you started college determined to fight off the dreaded freshman 15.

You attended several workout classes with Daewon, and outside of classes, the two of you explored a majority of the equipment in the gym, watching a number of Youtube videos for guidance, and slowly the two of you formed a baseline work out routine that you still clung to today.

You weren't a regular at the gym, there was a time in your life where you attended Zumba weekly, between your afternoon classes, but the chaos of the last month of your life robbed you of that habit too. Other than Zumba, you mostly turned to the gym when you needed a sweaty distraction or when you were avoiding your schoolwork.

Your mind viewed working out as it did cleaning; it was productive enough to excuse you from doing your work without feeling like the quitter you were. It also meant you did it the most when you had a ton of studying to do.

You secured your hair into a quick but effective braid down your back, not bothering to check how nice it looked in the mirror before heading out on the gym floor.

You stretched quickly before hopping on a treadmill telling yourself you would put in a quick mile as a warm-up, putting your headphones in and allowing your mind to surrender to the music as you got your heart rate up a little.

Nine minutes later, you were walking out your cool down as you scanned the weights area, determining what looked the least crowded so you could get started without having to interact with anyone.

You settled for taking the vacant pulley machine and worked through your usual weight routine, focusing first on your biceps and then your chest. When your arms felt like they were equal parts on fire and made of jelly, and your mind fell into that pleasant, empty haze, you had mercy on yourself and moved to wipe the machine down.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you cooled down, and saw your face, chest, and upper arms were a splotchy red from the strain, and a layer of sweat coated your entire body.

You knew you weren't attractive when you worked out, but you always admired yourself a bit anyways.

You were flushed, your hair was frizzing along the edge, and strands of hair escaped from your braid and stuck out wildly in all directions.

All and all, you looked like the definition of a hot mess.

But you were proud of your body for serving you well. You were more aware of the strength in the muscle under your skin, the way they swelled or bulged from your arms wasn't feminine or delicate, but you found it beautiful nonetheless.

Taking a minute to rest, you mindlessly unlocked your phone and immediately found yourself opening your messages to Hoseok out of habit.

You hadn't checked in on him in two days, and you didn't respond to his text from this afternoon. Your thumb hovered over the screen hesitantly before you finally shut it off and tucked it back in your pocket.

You still didn't know if you wanted to avoid Hoseok or hug him and makeup.

You decided you weren't tired enough if you could still think about this.

You turned the music up on your headphones in an attempt to blast out the thoughts swirling in your mind and headed for the leg press machine. You did a quick circuit targeting your quads and inner thighs on a few of the machines before making your way to the Smith machine for assisted barbell squats.

You embraced the burn in your glutes as you locked the bar back in its holder after your first rep, rolling the stiffness out of your shoulders as you counted down from thirty.

You were never good at making yourself wait or rest between reps, and because of that, you were prone to fatigue yourself faster.

You took a moment to stretch your arms across yourself and roll your neck, focusing on how the tension left your body before you moved to settle the barbell once again across your shoulders.

You spread your legs abd centered your weight, and with a quick flick of your wrist, you released the bar from its holder, dropping the full weight onto your shoulders. You let your breath sizzle through your teeth as you squatted down, taking care to keep your knees from going out past your toes, so you targeted the right muscle group.

You stared at yourself in the mirror you were facing making sure you kept the correct form when a sudden movement from behind you caught your attention.

Your eyes flicked across the mirror to lock in on the reflection of no other than Jeon Jungkook.

You let your lips turn into a slight smirk through your panting as you watched his arm come to a stuttering stop mid hammer curl as you continued your squats. You watched his eyes observe the motion of your body, ignoring the warmth in your stomach as you took him in return.

Jungkook usually wore oversized clothes on a daily basis. You couldn't understand why now that you took him in in his muscle shirt that exposed the entirety of his beautiful arms.

For the first time, you took in the full extent of the artwork that decorated his right arm. The tattoo's dark ink dotted their way up to his arm and his back shoulder. The placments were spread out enough that it wasn’t quite a full sleeve, but you were certian it would be within a few years.

You always knew Jungkook was big, you could tell by his broad shoulders and a hint of muscle you saw when he tied his apron around his tiny waist, but you didn't realize the extent of his strength.

You drank in the sight of him now, the defined lines of the his triceps and bicepts. And his toned obliques you could peek slightly from the low cut of the arm hole of his shirt.

The guy could probably bench press you if he wanted to.

You smiled to yourself as you reached 10, and pushed to lock the barbell back in its holder. You hope Jungkook didn't notice how your knees shook slightly or that you locked the bar in the clamp lower than the one you were initially using. Your trembling legs were too weak to fully extend to the one level with your shoulders.

You bide your time rolling out your shoulders as you watch him through the mirror. The punk hadn't taken his eyes off your ass yet, and you smirked as you turned to face him.

"Something catch your eye, Kook?" You called him with a saccharine smile.

He blinked in his daze before clearing his throat and stammering, "Ella, oh nothing at all. I was just checking your form."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile as you watched the blush crawl up his cheeks.

You tried not to let the thought of Jungkook checking you out in the gym get to you head. But it totally did, and you couldn't help but tease him more, "I hope you were pleased with what you saw."

His mouth curled into a smirk as he recovered and remembered himself, "I must say I was very impressed," he offered, and you smacked his arm as you sat on the other end of the bench, watching as he resumed his rep.

"I didn't know you came here," you started, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow as if asking, have you looked at me?

You scoffed, "I meant this gym stupid. I assumed your fancy mansion had its own gym in it. Jimin told me you guys trained there."

Trained for what? You didn't know.

Jungkook placed his weight on the ground before straightening, "Oh well, I come between classes to pass the time, beats traveling across town," he explained as he rolled out his shoulders.

Right, you remember him saying something about having evening lectures on Tuesday and Thursdays.

"How long until your class?"

He smiled, "Long enough to take you upstairs and teach you a thing or two," the shock must have been apparent on your face because he quickly amended, "Self defense! There's a bunch of mats upstairs for the kickboxing classes they have; I could show you a few things."

You sucked your teeth as you considered.

You had no reason to be hostile and say no, there was nothing wrong with being able to defend yourself.

At first, you were defensive because it made it all too real. You were worried knowing how to protect yourself would somehow drag you deeper into Jungkook's world, but you now realize you were in it, whether you were ready to be or not. It was best, safest, to be able to protect yourself.

"Alright, Jeon, but don't pull anything stupid," you warned as you got up and headed for the second level of the gym.

"Alright, we'll start simple," Jungkook started as he approached you, you were standing on the center of the mat in one of the boxing practice rooms. He was slowly pacing around you reminding you of a preditor looking at you as if you were his prey, you weren't going to lie it made you want to wrap your arms around yourself self contiously, but you held your ground and kept your hands at your side.

“I’m going to show you a handful of moves that you can use to get out of someoe grip if they try attacking you or grabbing you. Everything will be strictly offense.” he explained settling to stand infront of you.

You nodded along to confirm you understood.

“An important part of these moves is to get the guy down and then disengage no beat his ass. I think they’ll be super useful and be a bit more effective than throwing a shoe at someone.” He said with a smirk.

You smiled cheekily at him, “Hey don’t hate. You’re just jealous because you could never be as resourcful as I am.”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff before clapping his hands together and changing his stance, "I'll start by showing you how to get out of someone's grip if they grab you by your hair," he said, approaching you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you said quickly, putting your hands up in defense, "We don't play dirty, no hair pulling," you warned as you backed away.

Jungkook flashed a bunny smile in amusement, "Unfortunately, a lot of guys do. If I remember correctly that's exactly how they got you down the night you saved me” he teased, but hesitated as he saw your discomfort.

"Don't worry I'll be gentle I promise." he said softly as he approached you again raising his arm as if reaching for your braid.

You shook your head furiously, "Aren't we supposed to practice on you first?" you argued. "Ya know so that you can explain it better." you pushed trying to delay the inevitable. What have you gotten yourself into?

"Ella, I don't have a ponytail," he started, but your hand quickly shot for the back of his head, entangling your fingers in the soft waves and gripping them lightly. Jungkook let a sigh escape his lips as you tugged his head back slightly, and he had to blink to remember himself before he continued.

"Okay," he said breathlessly as he centered his weight, "A lot of people have the instinct to pull away or try to run, that won't work," he started.

"What you do is you swing your arm around up and over theirs, and pinch their elbow into the crook of yours and push down," he gently acted out his explanation.

You stumbled quickly, releasing your grasp on his hair as you felt pressure pushing your elbow opposite of how the joint naturally bends.

You promptly found yourself on your knees, your arm still trapped in his hold.

"Once you have them here, you can punch them and run," he said, throwing a mock punch at your face. You tried, and failed not to flinch.

"These moves don't require strength. You have to use surprise to your advantage and, most importantly, disengage and get away as soon as possible." He explained as he released you and helped you up.

"Now your turn," he reached for your braid, grabbing the part closest to the base of your skull and tugging slightly, but not enough to hurt.

You resisted the urge to try and pull out his grasp and swung your arm into an arch like he showed you tucking his elbow between yours before pushing down.

It was a little clumsy, and he didn't go down at first, but as you increased the pressure and shoved down a little harder, Jungkook released his grip on your hair and fell to his knees with a thud.

"Now punch me," he ordered through his teeth.

"I'm not-" he looked up at you defiantly, and you settled with a mocking air punch making a quite "Bam" as a sound effect before pulling away.

"I'm not comfortable hitting you," you said, twiddling your thumbs together.

Jungkook looked like he wanted to argue, but this was your first session, and he didn't want to get you too far out of your comfort zone.

He hoped you would be willing to show him what kind of punches you were packing later on down the road, maybe with boxing gloves so you would be more comfortable.

"Fine, but let's do it again to make sure you have the hang of it," he offered.

You ran the exercise again, each time Jungkook was careful not to pull your hair too hard, but he did start resisting a bit more to encourage you to move and fight more quickly. And while it should have taken you a little longer to get him to the ground each time you attacked with new vigor, making sure you moved fast enough that he couldn't resist too much.

Jungkook smiled at you as you hovered your fist in front of his face menisenly, your face stelled and set in concentration. After a few more rounds of grabbing your hair at various angles, the defensive move came naturally to you, and you got him on the ground successfully each time.

"Good, good, okay, let's move on," he said breathlessly as you helped him up from the ground.

"I'm going to teach you an easy one; it's what you do if a man grabs you around the wrist." He explained, walking closer.

"Grab my wrist, and grip it tight," he ordered.

You did as he instructed, although your fingers couldn't fully wrap around it.

If he moved to pull out of your grip, he could do it easily, but to your surprise, he didn't yank downwards like your dad always told you to do to get out of a man's grasp.

"You can yank and pull all you want, and that may get you out, but some guys will be able to just grip harder, and you're more at risk of injuring yourself," he explained, giving a light tug in your grasp.

"Instead, place your other hand on top of his to hold it down. Use the hand in their grasp to grip their wrist for a more secure hold. Then swing your arm in a large circle, grab their wrist, and push down."

You stumbled with a gunt as he followed through with his actions, using his free hand to hold yours against his wrist, and wrapping his captured hand around your wrist as he swung his arm in a large arc, effectively taking your arm and positioning at an awkward angle behind you before shoving you forward and onto your knees.

Jungkook was careful not to push too hard to hurt you, but the discomfort was inevitable.

"Alright, then you push him down and disengage, do not try to keep hold of a man that's bigger than you. Safety always comes first run if you can," he explained before releasing your hand and helping you up.

"This move is a good one because it doesn't require strength. You're stronger than I thought you were, but guys still have weight and height to their advantage." Jungkook explained as he reached for your wrist, effectively circling his fingers around it to the point where his thumb and middle finger overlapped.

You tried not to smile to yourself at the thought of Jungkook recognizing your strength. You never liked to be considered delicate.

Jungkook once again explained the maneuver walking you through each step and critiquing your hand placement before you were ready to try it in real-time.

You tried the maneuver on him swinging his arm before pushing him to the ground, and while he resisted the pressure, you smiled in victory as he fell to his knees.

"That was good, but a bit quicker, the surprise is a contributing factor, anyone who's expecting it can get out of it," he offered. He drilled you on the process a few more times, making sure you moved in one fluid motion instead of initiating it step by the step before ordering you to try with your non-dominant hand.

It was your third try with your non-dominant hand when things went wrong.

You grew a little vicious moving faster so you could get him down before he had time to react or resist, and you shoved a bit harder. He fell to his knees with a harsh thud, but it was the way that he desperately yanked his wrist out of your grip with a sharp cry that set off red flags in your head.

"Jungkook," you cried, falling on your knees next to him to see him cradling his arm to his chest.

"It's fine," he said through his teeth. You glared as you reached for his hand, remembering that it was the same wrist he injured three weeks prior when he got jumped.

"Oh, you idiot, where is your brace?" you demanded as you inspected the swollen appendage.

He didn't respond, only smiled at you sheepishly. "Have you been lifting weights without it? Have you let it rest at all?" you demanded as you got up, pulling him up with you and dragging him out the boxing area, you had claimed.

You continued to lecture him and gripe under your breath as you dragged him, by the good wrist, down the stairs, and through the gym to the ice machine where you wrapped a few cubes of ice into a wad of paper towels.

"Here idiot," you offered grumpily.

"Is this how you talk to all your patients, Doctor?" he asked mockingly as he took the makeshift ice pack.

Bedside manner was something you were going to have to work on in med school.

You get easily frustrated when people blatantly ignore doctors' orders and further jeopardize their health. If you have liver problems, stop drinking. If you have lung problems, don't smoke. If you have an injured wrist, put it in a damn brace and don't lift weights or pick fights with people.

You told him as much as you watched him ice it for a few minutes though the action did little to help the swelling go down.

"Are you mad at me?" Jungkook asked softly, not quite looking at you.

He peeked up to see your eyes soften a bit at the question, "I'm not mad, just a little frustrated. You're my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt. Especially since I was the one that hurt you," you explained, reaching to brush his sweaty bangs behind his ears.

Jungkook tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the simple action, "It was my fault, you were only doing what I told you to do." he offered, not wanting you to feel responsible for his stupidity.

You didn't look up at him, instead focusing down on his wrist, turning and angling it in a way that you could better check the swelling.

"I have supplies at home, I could wrap it if you like?" you offered

"I'm really fine. It doesn't even- yah! Okay," he hissed as you applied light pressure to it. You smiled in victory, and the two of you parted ways briefly to grab your bags before meeting back up. Jungkook drove to school, so you didn't have to worry about catching the bus.

It was a quick drive from campus to your apartment, Jungkook nimbly avoided the traffic of main roads by cutting through neighborhoods you didn't even know connected.

"You know this city like the back of your hand, don't you?" you asked, surprised by how quickly you were pulling into your apartment complex.

"It comes with the job," he said with a shrug.

You didn't know what 'the job' was. If it was driving a getaway car or dealing drugs, or... you couldn't even think up other possibilities.

You couldn't muster up the courage to ask him as you made your way up the stairs to your door. A brown and black cat with bright green eyes waited outside your door, meowing impatiently as you approached.

"That's Jeremy," you introduced as you bent down to give him pets. Jungkook smiled at the ridiculously human name for a cat.

"He's a stray, but I leave food out for him. Hoseok won't let me bring him in the apartment. ‘Says he'd trash the place," you explained as you grabbed the little bowl you left outside your door and unlocked your apartment.

"But he's so cute, how can you resist?" he questioned giving the cat some pets himself.

"I know!" you whined, setting the now filled bowl of cat food back on the ground. "I'm thinking about getting him a collar, though, just to make sure animal control doesn't come to scoop him up," you said offhandedly.

"I say you just let him move in, fuck Hoseok. We're mad at him anyway, right?" Jungkook said jokingly.

You laughed along as you made your way to the living room area, "Take a seat," you ordered, gently pointing to the couch, "I'll go grab my first aid kit."

Jungkook sat down immediately, sinking into the worn brown couch as he inspected the apartment. It wasn't quite a studio, the entire front area was open to what was the kitchen, dining room, and living room, but there was a door that gave the bedroom some privacy, and another door that leads to what he assumed was the bathroom.

The apartment wasn't dirty, but it was well lived in.

The front was slightly crowded, the entertainment center and the coffee table in front of the couch were nearly touching. You had two bean bags stacked in the corner next to the sofa, probably for when you had more guests. And there was an array of fuzzy blankets draped over the couches and piled next to the bean bag chairs.

The one window next to the door had various potted plants scatted in front of it and a few were hanging from ropes in the ceiling.

Most of them looked the be herbs and cacti. Jungkook could tell by the way sprouts were missing their leaves that you most likely cooked with them.

The natural smell of the plants scented the air with a mild and refreshing spice scent of mint, basil, and rosemary. But the strongest scent came from the pot of wild lavender that was placed next to the couch. The floral scent put him at ease naturally and reminded him of the time Jin put lavender drops in his diffuser when he complained about having a hard time sleeping.

The kitchen was small, the cabinet doors were on crooked hinges, and perhaps had chipped paint, but you had taped little slivers of miss-matched scrapbook paper over the worst spots. And the look was pleasantly charming. There was no counter space, but he saw a small card table in the corner with a knife block and cutting board on it that you must use for your prep station when your cooking.

The dining room table had three miss-matched chairs, but the little cushions on them somehow tied the whole look together and made it seem like a matching set.

��Everything looked thrifted and worn, but the little touches you added, the cushions and pillows on the couch, the small tapestry of cacti Jungkook was pretty sure every college girl ordered for her dorm room, and the fairy lights that lined the living room walls made the place feel cozy and homey.

He could see a little part of you in every piece of the apartment, and because of that he immediately felt at ease, and at home in it. He imagined you and Hoseok must spend many nights in the cozy room, cooking dinner together, or having long movie nights.

He couldn’t help but slip himself into the fantasy and wondered if there would ever be a day where this apartment would be a familiar comfort. If he would know the story of how you got those chairs or where the photos pinned to the refrigerator door were taken.

You were thankful that the front of your apartment was at least presentable with the surprise company. Your room was a train wreck you planned to keep hidden. After digging through your closet for your first aid kit, you cleared your coffee table of its mess of textbooks and flashcards and set your first aid kit on top. Jungkook's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he took in the size of the kit. It looked fit for an EMT.

You detoured to the kitchen, first grabbing an ice pack out the freezer and handing it to him.

"You might have strained it a little while you were driving, I want as much swelling as possible to go down before I wrap it," you explained.

Before you ruffled through the kit, moving several tools, Jungkook didn't quite know the purpose for, until you grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. "Take this for the swelling," you ordered, handing him a cup of water.

"Thanks, I'm sorry to put you through the trouble," he said sheepishly.

"No, I don't mind." you amended. And it was true, helping people like this, easing their pain and making them more comfortable was something you took pride in doing.

You could feel the approaching awkward silence, and you took the chance to ask the question that was nagging at the back of your head.

"So earlier you said knowing the city 'comes with the job' what do you do? Ya know, for BTS?" you asked hesitantly as you pushed back at the cuticle of your thumb. You were lucky not to have a nail-biting habit, but you did have a habit of pushing back your cuticles when you got fidgety.

"Oh umm, it kinda changes over time, the inner circle has responsibilities and such, but our duties are pretty ambiguous. We don't have assigned jobs like Armys do.." Jungkook said hesitantly.

You looked at him expectantly, and he continued, "Like Suga Hyung is head of surveillance, but he also does investigations and fieldwork and such. And Jin Hyung is head of intelligence, but he also does a lot of the business for BulletProof, and he completely runs Sugar Daddy. Jimin is our arsonist, but he can fight, and deal, and do a lot of things really," he said, rambling.

"I'm sorry, did you just say Jimin is an arsonist?" you asked in disbelief. Jungkook looked at you, shocked but nodded.

"He's really good at science stuff, that's why he bakes so good." Jungkook offered as an explanation.

You think back to the chemistry lectures you had to sit through every time Jimin taught you a new recipe. It made sense, but you were still surprised. You would expect something like arson to be more in V's field with the crazy look in his eyes.

"Okay, but you still haven't told me what you do," you pushed.

At this point, Jungkook's ice pack was starting to drip, and you were probably good to wrap his wrist, but you were too caught up in better understanding BTS and everything that they do.

Jungkook huffed out a nervous laugh, "I do lots of stuff. When I first started, I was dealing. I worked my way up to more of the pharmaceuticals and medical-grade stuff. I mostly sold insulin or other simple medicines like that. The pharmacy industry is way corrupt, and poor people need meds too, ya know?" he rambled.

You nodded in agreement. Pharmaceuticals and health care expenses were something you were continually challenging your teachers on in your ethics class. You hated becoming a doctor knowing health care was a business people monopolized in Alcorn.

"I've helped Suga with surveillance some I really like that. I'm studying software engineering to get better at it. I think I'm faster at hacking than Suga is at this point, but don't tell him I said that. I've also just kind of been the muscle for the inner circle. When RM and Jin have meetings, I always go as back up. I lead training sessions and help teach new recruits how to fight, too." he went on.

Jungkook didn't want to tell you the other reason why he went to meetings.

For some reason, he felt like telling you he's the heir of BTS wouldn't sit with you well. To know that he was training to be a crime lord and was minoring in business so he could perfect the art of embezzlement and make network connections while taking classes with the next generation of Alcorn's businessmen and investors.

He didn’t want to talk about how BTS had a timeline of working its way out the gang scene of the Westside and worm their way into the upper East. RM runs BTS more like a mafia, a family with limitless assets and connections, depending more on his and Jin's charm and connections than violence and brute force to make business deals.

Jungkook also didn't know how to tell you or any of his hyungs that he didn't want to be rich.

He knows he's in no position to complain, he's been living a life of luxury since he was 15, but he knows that money isn't being distributed equitably to Army and other lower ranks of BTS.

RM always reminds Jungkook, it's not their responsibility to share evenly with all of BTS. There would be no assets, no way to recruit more members, no comfort for everyone if they did.

There is nothing to keep Army from climbing their way up the ranks in BTS. RM has the baseline standard of ensuring everyone's needs are met; they have a home and a job. What they chose to do with their potential after that is up to them. You get out of BTS, what you give.

And Jungkook understands that, but he still can't shake the feeling of unease from his chest. That BTS could be using their power and influence, not to invade the markets of the upper East, but instead to make the Westside a better place.

He knew he was stupid for having dreams of non-profits and housing reforms, but he can't keep those feelings from nagging at him from the back of his mind.

Jungkook's rambling fell quiet, and you could see the conflict on his face. Maybe you were pushing for too much too soon. Maybe BTS expected things from Jungkook that he was ashamed of like Hoseok was ashamed.

"I shouldn't have asked," you said, reaching for his hands.

"No, it's okay. It's just more complicated then I realized," he explained as he watched you wipe the water from the ice pack off his arm.

You dug through the first aid kit for some gauze and butterfly strips, "I'm sorry if it's a little tight. I'm a low on gauze, "you said as you started wrapping the bandage, taking care to make sure his hand was set in the proper position.

The two of you fell into small talk as you started to work.

You talked about your classes, what your favorite pastry was at Sugar Daddy. He asked you about where you were from and whether or not you missed your home.

And it was an answer you always struggled to give, because while a piece of you always yearned to be home, to talk in your native tongue, and see your family. You know you could never bring yourself to return home. Alcorn has rooted itself so firmly in you; you don't think you'll ever leave.

You found yourself losing track of time, as you told him stories of the funny cultural differences between your home and Kros. And too soon you noticed the sun had set in your window.

"Jungkook, you missed your class," you exclaimed as you remembered he was only at the gym for a short break.

He flashed his bunny smile as he chuckled, "I missed both of them, but I don’t mind. But I probably should head home soon. I have a ton of homework, and you mentioned you have a test in two days." he said with a sigh. Being such a responsible adult was such a burden sometimes.

He wanted nothing more, but to talk with you more for hours into the night and morning.

"Of course, sorry for keeping you so late, and sorry for the shitty bandage job. I really need to go get more gauze." you rambled nervously as you got up to accompany him on the three-foot walk it takes to get from the couch to your door.

You barely had enough gauze to properly wrap around his wrist, you had to get creative and use tape and butterfly bandaids to stretch across the bits of fabric that doesn’t meet to secure it together.

"It's fine, it's fine," he amended as he laughed nervously, "besides, I have my brace in the car," he admitted nervously—his uninjured hand traveling to rub the back of his neck.

You stared at him in fake outrage, "You had your brace this whole time? Why did you-"

"I wanted to hang out with you," he said, shyly effectively putting your overdramatic reaction to a halt as you flushed.

"Well then ask to grab a coffee or watch a movie, don't waste my precious medical supplies." you teased as you opened the door for him.

His eyes lit up in response as he turned back to face you.

"So would you? Want to hang out again sometime?" he asked his doe eyes shining so bright you swear it was an ability he actively abused.

"I'll have to check my calendar, but I think I can manage to squeeze it in, but first, we should both get through test week," you said, trying to keep a cool tone.

Jungkook’s nose scrunched slightly as he flashed you a bunny toothed smile, and you couldn’t contain your own as he wished you a good night and heading home.

You watch from your door as he made his way down the stairs and to his car. Jungkook turned and looked at you over his shoulder three times as he made the descent, flashing you a small smile and wave each time he did.

Finally, he made it to his car giving one final wave before he buckles in his pulled out of sight. You moved to close the door sighing as you added Jeon Jungkook to the list of confusing emotions spiraling through your life.

You felt a soft nudge and looked down to see Jeremy meowing at you, demanding more food as if he didn't have a full bowl next to him.

You should be scoffing at the audacity of this cat, but instead, Jeon Jungkook has you smiling softly over the memory of how he bent down and gave the kitty some pets while still in his workout clothes from before. The juxtaposition of his tone tattooed arm petting Jeremy’s soft fur would haunt you in the back of your mind for a while.

Jeremy meowed at you again, and you sighed, reaching for his bowl. "Get in here," you called and watched as Jeremy happily trotted into the house.

And you smiled proudly to yourself as you watched the kitty explore his new home, sniffing at your lavender plant with piqued interest.

Fuck Hoseok's rules, You have a pet cat now.

Next >>

#bts fic #jungkook x reader #bts gang au #btsghostie #bangtanhq #bangtanscenery #btsbookclub #btsguild #bts mafia au #gangster jungkook #gangster yoongi #gangster hoseok #ganagster jimin #no harm list

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not-playable-character · 3 years

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Edit: new link https://archiveofourown.org/works/32099263

ITS DONE!!!! Finally, the RE8 meets RE7 fic is finished and posted! so for everyone wondering and if you didn't figure it out already. The image I posted earlier is the seating arrangement of the gang as they play the game. As always its posted on AO3 and under the cut. I hope you enjoy @ibest14 I never actually played RE7 but I watched a walkthrough to write this.

It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the Winters family got a very strange package. It was addressed to the whole family and had no return address.

“What the heck is this?” Rose wondered aloud carrying the small package inside, “Hey mom! Did you order something online?”

“Not that I remember, why?” Mia asked curious why her daughter was asking about the mail, “Who is it addressed to? Maybe your dad ordered something.” She went and stood next to Rose to look at the package.

“Hmm, I think we should wait for dad to get home to open it, I mean it is addressed to all of us.” Mia agreed with her daughter and went to continue making dinner.

Ethan got home a few hours later and was greeted by his daughter with a warm hug, “Haha, hey there kid how was your day?” He asked returning the hug and picking Rose up.

“It was good! We got a weird package in the mail, mom and I decided to wait for you before opening it.” Rose said leading him into the kitchen after he put her down.

“Welcome home, Hon! How was work?” Mia asked kissing Ethan on the cheek.

“Ugh, Williams was an absolute pain again. He somehow unplugged all of his equipment and disconnected his computer from the ethernet cable again.” Ethan complained sitting down at the dinner table next to Rose. “Chris somehow changed his computer to Arabic and Sal’s computer was changed to have wingdings as the default language and it bricked the whole thing, he said it was an accident, but I think it was one of the dicks that keep harassing him. I told Chris and he’s looking into it.” Ethan picked up the package and looked at the outside.

“Ugh why can’t these douchebags see that Sal is way better than them. Probably just jealous of him.” Rose said frustrated at the harassment her uncle was receiving.

“We should invite him over for dinner sometime, lift his spirits some!” Mia suggested placing a glass of juice down for Ethan. He agreed and thanked her for the juice.

Ethan handed the package back to Rose who tore into the packaging. Inside was a video game box, “Resident Evil? Isn’t that a game from the nineties?” Rose asked confused.

Ethan leaned over to get a better look, “Yeah it is, I played almost all of them, but I’ve never seen that one. It looks like its supposed to be the seventh one, but they only made six that I know of.” Ethan became confused taking the box from Rose studying it, it strangely didn’t have a back cover.

“Weird, maybe they are rebooting the series, but why wouldn’t there be a lot of news about it?” Rose asked. Ethan’s face lit up at the possibility of a reboot of his favorite childhood series.

“Man, I hope so, I always loved Craig Bluemarsh and Leo C. Harrison. They were the best! The whole M.O.O.N.S squad from Badger City. Special Ops turned paranormal investigators was the twist of the decade! And the whole thing with Egbert Walberk and how he possessed himself with countless demons to become basically a god.” Ethan sighs as he reminisces.

“You clearly have bad taste honey because Julie Easter was the best character in the series. The ace of the M.O.O.N.S squad, the one that Walberk kidnapped to force demons into her with a mind control amulet. Oh, and don’t forget Chloe Bluemarsh, college kid turned aid worker for those affected by the demons.” Mia added as she chopped vegetables for dinner.

“Ahh yes, how could I forget! Anyway, this looks like a cheap bootleg or fake. Probably just a prank from Dani or Angie.” Ethan said tossing the case further on the table looking upset.

“Aw man…. That’s lame dad.” Rose says dramatically throwing herself over the back of the chair. “I’m keeping it anyway; the box looks cool.”

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A month after the whole package incident, Rose bursts into the house beaming. “Dad, Uncle Chris just told me that we are having a meeting with the whole gang! We should totally bring that janky game we got and show it off!”

“Whoa, slow down Rose! You’re gonna hurt yourself running around like that.” Ethan says watching his daughter bounce in place. “Why do you think we should bring that thing anyway? I doubt there will be anytime to just sit around and play a game, if it’s even real.” Rose rolls her eyes at him.

“Dad, I’m sure Uncle Chris can pull some strings so we can have a little get together. We never get to see each other all at once!” Rose states, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, “Don’t you want to see the gang, Dad. It would be so much fun. You know how much I miss them all.” She begs.

Ethan can physically feel his resolve crumbling at his begging daughter, always caving into her once she pulls out the puppy eyes, “Fine, I’ll talk with Chris and we can bring the game with us, but you are responsible for the PlayStation and if it gets damaged or broken you have to buy the new one.” He says in his dad voice, trying to be stern. Rose squeals and jumps into his arms hugging him.

“You’re the best dad ever!” She says running off to prepare for their long weekend at Blue Umbrella.

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“Ok, is everyone comfy, I’m about to start the game!” Rose said excitedly setting up the PS4 in the Blue Umbrella lounge room. Everyone was present, Rose even convinced Miranda and Elena to join them after Milena was put to bed.

“I am unsure of what we are even doing sweet thing.” Alcina said settling into her chair near Donna.

“Well, I’m gonna play this weird game I got, maybe Dani can take over if I get tired. We are just gonna check it out, if its good, Great! If not, we can make fun of how bad it is!” Rose explained sitting down on the couch wedged between Daniela, Angie, and Heisenberg with Bela and Cassandra on the floor in front of them. Alcina wasn’t convinced that it would be fun, but she couldn’t deny Rose’s request considering how excited she looked. She sighed and pulled out her reading glasses seeing the small text on the screen.

“Psh, what are you a grandma?” Heisenberg teased. Alcina growled at him.

“Oh, please grow up you child.” She replied trying to de-escalate the situation knowing Rose and her daughters hated when they argued.

“I see making your head bigger didn’t help your eyesight.” He continued to tease sensing her anger.

“I grew proportionally you ignoramus, becoming larger would not fix my farsightedness.” She growled out becoming angrier.

“Guys….” Rose said sadly at the two arguing. Heisenberg immediately stopped his next sentence and turned to give Rose a side hug.

“Sorry kiddo, I forgot you hate it when we fight. I’ll stop, I promise.” He says sincerely as Alcina nods looking guilty, Rose smiles accepting their apologies.

“No more sappiness get to the action I’m getting bored!” Angie cried out from Daniela’s lap. Rose rolls her eyes at the doll’s bratty attitude and begins the game.

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The game begins with a very familiar video to Ethan and Mia and the sight of Mia recording her warning message on the ship.

“What the…. How is this happening? It showed the recording from my eyes, but I never recorded that…” Mia says stunned.

The next scene starts with the sound of a phone ringing and the overhead video of a car driving down a highway. Ethan begins to speak to and unknown man in the voice over explaining how he was contacted by Mia and that she wants him to come and get her.

“This has to be a sick prank! How did these people get that phone call!” Ethan shouts getting more and more upset as the clip plays. Mia places a hand on his arm to comfort him.

“Maybe there will be an explanation later. There has to be….” Mia says trying to calm Ethan.

Rose pauses the game as it shifts to Ethan’s perspective in the car, “We don’t have to keep playing if this is making you guys uncomfortable.” She says to her parents.

Ethan takes a deep breath, “No, no… it’s fine, you were really excited for this. I was just shocked. I’m okay to keep going, as long as you are okay too Mia.” She nods in agreement with her husband clearly rattled but pushing through. Rose nods continuing the game as she walks Ethan through the thick Louisiana swamp towards the Baker house.

The first obstacle they encounter is a locked gate. She moves him down a path leading to a trashed car with camera equipment scattered around it. Looking in they find a scrip proposal for Sewer Gators Ep. 17.

They then come across a broken gate with a sign that says, “Accept Her Gift”, “Oh yeah definitely just walk through that incredibly ominous gate into the disgusting swamp.” Heisenberg says gesturing towards the screen, “I’d just say, ‘sorry lady I’m not that desperate for a wife’ and dip.”

“He has a point dad, I mean really its been three years. Just move on.” Rose says to her father.

Ethan blushes, “Hey you can’t judge a man in love. I had to know what happened.”

“Nah man, just accept the death bro. Totally not worth it.” Daniela says interjecting.

“I’m right her you know.” Mia says scolding them. Rose giggles and continues on. They come across the remains of a fire with Mia’s purse laying there. They then enter the Guest house finding it to be disgusting and in disrepair.

“God, I forgot how gross this place was.” Ethan says wrinkling his nose.

Rose looks around the living room area, finding a hidden chain that opens a hidden room they go through. Exploring further leads them into a flooded basement they are forced to crawl through.

“Oh, please Ethan, I know you are insanely stubborn but the corpse in the flooded basement should have been an indicator to leave immediately.” Alcina says as the dead body floats up in front of them.

“Ok, Ok I get it I’m a crazy person for going on, but can we please stop commenting on it. I’m aware of the insanity.” Ethan replies as Rose comes up into a basement room with a jail cell containing Mia as well as other information on people who were listed as turned or dead. They pick up the bolt cutters and break open Mia’s cell. While they are being reunited Mia acts strangely warning him of the dangers and of Daddy.

“Pft, seriously? Daddy?” Dani snickers at Mia.

“Don’t start. I was possessed by a child obsessed with family.” Mia says glaring at Dani.

Rose follows Mia through the basement where she and Ethan stop to talk about the last three years.

“Come on! This is a life or death situation, get a move on!” Cassandra yells out at the screen.

Rose continues to creep through the basement following Mia as Ethan learning more about her capture as they walk. They come across a living room type area where Mia starts to act strangely, talking about family and when Ethan leaves, they hear her crash through the wall revealing a staircase to the house. They move through the house looking for Mia. They hear crashing coming from the stairs they came from and return to find Mia on all fours crawling up the stairs. She attacks Ethan looking monstrous as she throws him back up with superhuman strength. She then attacks him with a knife stabbing him through the hand. After a struggle she regains control rambling about a strange her as she slams her head against the wall.

“Jesus man, that is hard core…” Heisenberg says in awe. Mia grimaces at the memory. Rose continues on wandering before they are attacked by Mia once again. They fight her off with an axe. “Ethan, my friend, you always have to double check that your enemy is dead. She is definitely gonna get up again, classic horror trope.” Heisenberg says wisely.

“Karl, this actually happened. I wasn’t thinking about ‘horror tropes’. I was focusing on surviving.” Ethan says to him.

“Also, of course I’m going to get up, I’m sitting right here. I’m clearly not dead.” Mia says exasperated.

Rose moves on with the game ignoring them and answers the phone that had begun to ring. “Dad why did you answer the phone? Just leave.” She says as Zoe gives her warning to Ethan. “Oh yeah let’s listen to the random phone lady and not just break a window.” She says rolling her eyes.

They move on solving the puzzle for the stairs catching a glimpse of the not at all dead Mia. Replacing the fuse, they are jumped by Mia again who attacks him with a screwdriver pinning him to the wall before chopping his had off with a chainsaw.

“My god man! How did you keep going!” Sal exclaims looking at Ethan who just shrugs.

They find a pistol in one of the rooms and use it to take care of the attacking Mia as she rants crazily. Finally taking her down, they are ambushed by Jack Baker who punches him in the face.

“See I told you that you should have moved faster, now ‘Daddy’ caught you.” Cass says as Ethan falls over and is stomped on by Jack. They see him being dragged and Mia being carried by Jack, the scene changes to Ethan strapped to a chair with Zoe staples his hand back on. He finally fully awakes to a disgusting family dinner with the whole Baker family.

“Ugh, I miss Momma’s cooking so much.” Mia says reminiscing happily. Everyone stares at her as they see the disgusting meal on the table in game. She blushes, “Before she went fully crazy, she was an amazing cook. Her gumbo was to die for, oh and Daddy’s fried chicken, mmm.” She explains to them. No one seems convinced as the scene continues with Lucas throwing food at him and Marguerite tries to get Ethan to eat, and Jack cuts off Lucas’ hand. Jack comes over and forces the rancid food into Ethan’s face as Marguerite rants and leaves angrily, Jack then cuts Ethan’s face before being interrupted by the doorbell. They escape and flee through the house trying to find an exit. They find a key and are chased by Jack before escaping to the crawlspace.

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They explore the house before a police officer tries to ask Ethan questions.

“Man, that officer is kind of a dick…” Heisenberg says realizing how rude and unprofessional the officer is.

“He was a massive dick.” Ethan says frustrated at the memory of their interactions. They make the way to the garage to meet the rude officer who refuses to take the situation seriously which leads to his death and Ethan’s continued entrapment. “See, massive dick, we could have escaped, but noooo.” He says.

Rose nods in agreement as she avoids Jack in the garage and tries to defeat him with the car. The car crashes and catches fire revealing an on fire Jack who is knocked down by the resulting explosion. They collect the items in the room before climbing up the revealed ladder. Jack stops Ethan and shoots himself in the head with Ethan’s gun.

“I’ll say it again, he ain’t dead. He’s coming back sooner or later.” Heisenberg says again.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. This game’s been full of tropes so far.” Cassandra responds to him rolling her eyes.

Rose continues on solving puzzles and making their way through the labyrinthine house avoiding the obviously not dead Jack and the molded that are scattered around the house. They see Jack mumbling to himself about being “her” and talking about how he is going to kill Ethan.

“God he’s so cool.” Dani says as he leaves the room getting looks from the others, “What? He’s a cool villain.”

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The fight with Jack was a bit of a struggle for Rose, but she made it through with Heisenberg, Dani, and Cass cheering her on.

When he finally exploded, both Heisenberg and Dani called out in joy, “Now that’s how you kill a villain!” Heisenberg shouted out with a laugh and high fived Dani over Rose’s head. As they make their way through the house again completing puzzles and finding Grandma in random places.

“She is the one who caused all this.” Alcina says pointing at Grandma. Ethan and Mia looks shocked.

“How did you know that?” Mia asks. Alcina scoffs as if it is obvious.

“She hasn’t had the focus at all, yet she appears at random seemingly following Ethan, who we know is the next victim in mind. She is clearly Eveline.” She says smugly to everyone’s shocked faces.

Rose moved on ignoring the gloating. She came across a trailer in the yard, exploring it revealed that it was Zoe’s home containing some useful items that she ignored moving to leave as the phone rang. Zoe explained about the mold and how to progress.

“Why are you so trusting of this woman, you don’t know her, and she has admitted that she is a part of the family trying to kill you?” Bela asked turning to face Ethan. He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out, he paused thinking and shrugged. Bela rolled her eyes at him, “Typical man thing.” She mumbled out returning to her original position.

They move on to the old house and Marguerite just as Zoe instructed. Coming across baby dolls strung up from the rafters of the bridge. “Whoever made those should be killed.” Donna said quietly. Everyone looked at her confused. “The look like such poor quality dolls, anyone who cares would never let them fall apart so easily. Cheap plastic is the worst fate a doll can experience.” She explains confident.

“You aren’t upset at the fact that they are strung up, just that they suck?” Rose asks her.

“Of course, you can do what you like with them, but the craft must be respected. These cheap factory made ones are a disgrace.” Donna explains upset at the virtual dolls. Rose mumbles an ok before moving on into the bug infested old house. They make their way through the house avoiding mutant bugs and solving puzzles.

“Gotta say girls, these things really remind me of you three.” Heisenberg says as Rose burns her way through the nests of bugs.

“How dare you compare my girls to these disgusting things! They are clearly superior in every way.” Alcina says angrily defending her girls.

“Thank you, mother, but he has a bit of a point.” Bela says to her mother with Cassandra nodding in agreement.

“Momma has a point though too! We are better than those things!” Dani says beaming at her mother. Cass mumbles suck up under her breath and is smacked by Dani.

Soon after they find Mia in game again, she explains her amnesia and is taken away by Lucas. Not being able to help they continue on through the house again. Eventually they are found by Marguerite who begins to stalk them through the house attacking them with her swarm of insects, insane rants, and vulgar obscenities.

“This lady is something else…” Heisenberg says cringing at Marguerite.

“For once we agree on something Karl.” Alcina agrees cringing as well. The others nod in agreement with them.

They make their way through a secret passageway revealed by the spider shadow puzzle. The wall space was infested which had everyone cringing at the writhing masses of centipedes. They collect the crank and the crow key and try to enter Marguerite’s room before she throws him down the stairs and through the floor. After a short encounter, she falls into the hole and melts into black goo. They collect information on the D series pieces and Zoe calls again, and she mentions they only need the arm piece as she has the D series head. They return to the hole to see the goo gone and a long spindly arm take the lantern needed to progress. They follow the monstrosity to well in front of the old house returning to Zoe’s trailer. They return to a new section of the old house where they are attacked by a mutated spider like Marguerite.

They run around the house, avoiding her swarms and attacks while burning her with the flamethrower and peppering her with shotgun shots to the disgusting nest on her lower half.

“I take it back; you girls are way more similar to the bug lady.” Heisenberg says once she finally dies. Alcina slaps the back of his head and growls at him.

“Momma can we mutate like that too!” Dani says excitedly as Bela and Cass cringe.

“Absolutely not. Do not even think about trying.” Alcina scolds while Heisenberg and Rose chuckle at them.

“Why would anyone want to have a gross bug vagina?” Cassandra turns around asking her sister.

Dani shrugs, “I don’t know, I just think it would be neat.” Rose shoves the controller into Dani’s hands and takes Angie from her.

“No more bug talk, you play, I’m getting tired.” Rose says stretching.

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They find their way into Eveline’s secret room and collect the arm. They go to meet Zoe in her trailer only to find that no one is there. They answer a call from Lucas where he tells Ethan that he has both Zoe and Mia, and that Ethan needs to play his game to save them and get the head. They make their way back to the main house’s dissection room where they pull the snake key out of the dead deputy’s neck hole. Lucas’ voice come out through a speaker explaining they need to find two keycards so they can meet.

“Ohhh, I love this guy! I’m getting so many ideas for new games, hehehe!” Angie says excitedly bouncing in Rose’s lap. Donna glares at the doll chastising her through their mental link. Angie pouts at the scolding.

They make their way through the increasingly molded main house solving Lucas’ puzzles and dodging the molded shambling around. They find the blue keycard and make their way down into a secret room containing the red keycard. Lucas calls again at the phone in the main hall, leading Ethan to a party in the barn.

They enter the barn to thumping music and glowing paint under a black light. They come across a room with a television showing Lucas ranting and waving the D series head around, ranting about how he doesn’t want to give up his gift and that they can only get the serum from him before the television explodes. They make their way through the barn avoiding trip mines and coming up to a locked gate with a passcode. Lucas makes an appearance taunting Ethan and giving him incorrect passwords before a trap springs and a secret door opens up.

They wind through the barn avoiding the traps and taking out the molded arriving at Lucas’ arena where they fight off a giant molded. After the fight they find the correct passcode to enter the birthday room. They solve his puzzles and escape through the hole created by the dynamite. They see a television with Zoe and Mia, Zoe explains where they are before Lucas cuts the camera to himself ranting about nothing. They collect the D series head and leave the barn making their way to Zoe and Mia. They release Zoe and Mia before collecting the completed serum. Just after they are ambushed by a fully mutated Jack.

“Wait he isn’t dead?! I can’t believe I didn’t call it!” Heisenberg calls out as Dani fights Jack.

After a long grueling fight, taking out Jacks many swollen eyes and using one of the two serums to calcify him at Zoe’s request. Walking down the pier they are faced with a choice to cure either Zoe or Mia.

“Well clearly we are supposed to cure mom. Its what dad did in real life.” Rose says.

“True, I did. I did feel bad though, Chris ended up saving Zoe and her uncle, so it all ended up good.” Ethan says.

“Yeah, sure choosing Mia is what really happened but what if we chose Zoe?” Dani asks hovering over Zoe in game.

“No! We can do it later right now we are choosing mom.” Rose says sternly.

“Fiiiiinnnnnee.” Dani whines out giving Mia the serum. They take the raft down the river listening to Ethan and Mia talk about the situation before they come across the wrecked boat Mia and Eveline arrived on. They are attacked by the mold, and they switch to Mia’s perspective as they hear Eveline speak to her through their mental connection.

“Well, this is going to be interesting, I’ve never seen this before.” Ethan says as they move into the ship. They find an unconscious Ethan who is taken by the mold deeper into the ship. They move through the mold infested ship as Mia, getting flashbacks as they move on. They follow the phantom Eveline to a room containing a television where they watch a video tape that blends into them playing through the situation leading to the crash of the ship and the infection of the Baker family.

They see Mia’s partner Alan who explains he is the reason Eveline escaped he explains that she needs to fix his mess and they begin to track Eveline through the ship. They finally come across Eveline in the engine room before she runs off again. They find Alan again in the room next to the one where they started the video tape. As he explains that Eveline is deteriorating, he insults her, and she overtakes him with the mold. The mold then spreads to Mia infecting her. They then see Mia recording the warning video from the beginning of the game. The section ends with Mia being blown off the ship and floating unconscious in the water, before returning to the present with Mia and the Phantom Eveline talking. Making their way to the bridge they use the surveillance cameras to find Ethan trapped in mold in the engine room. On the way there they are impeded by the phantom Eveline and the remaining molded.

As Mia finds Ethan, the perspective swaps back to Ethan’s mind as he speaks to a sane Jack. He explains that Eveline is the cause of all the murders and kidnappings. He says that they were infected when He rescued her from the crashed tanker. Jack also explains that stopping Eveline will stop the mold. Before Ethan awakens to Eveline and Mia arguing. Mia rips him free from the mold prison and gives him the tissue sample before locking him out of the engine room urging him to kill Eveline. They continue through the bayou to a salt mine near the Baker house. They hear a military broadcast explaining a team was sent in to take down Eveline. They traverse the salt mines finding an underground lab with information on Eveline and the E series mold. They use Eveline’s tissue samples to make the E- Necrotoxin that is used to kill her permanently. As they exit the mine, Ethan sees flashes of Eveline as she sends the molded to kill him. They exit the mine into the original room Ethan found Mia in where he has a vision of Mia panicking. He continues to see visions of Mia’s attack on him and Eveline controlling her. They stab Eveline with the serum, and she reveals her true form as Grandma before melting away and mutating into a large monstrosity.

As Dani fights the massive face of Eveline, Miranda mumbles to herself, “Absolutely fascinating. How she responds to different stimuli and the delayed injection of the Necrotoxin.” Rose and Dani scream forgetting that Miranda was sitting behind them.

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you! You scared the living hell out of us!” Rose yells at her turning to face Miranda who has a notebook open in her lap. “What are you even doing?”

Miranda blushes at being caught, “I was taking notes on how E-001 reacted and how the family responded to the infection. It is incredibly fascinating that the whole Baker family mutated without becoming one of the shambling molded.”

“Trust me she was about to run off and work more before I stopped her.” Elena interjects into Miranda’s rambling. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her work on the Eveline project outside of simply watching videos.” Miranda’s blush deepens and she looks embarrassed at being called out by her lab assistant.

“Good, no more mind control children allowed.” Dani says rudely turning back to the screen continuing the final fight.

Ethan is thrown from the house and sees helicopters arriving at the house as he is attacked by Eveline. He uses an unknown gun to shoot Eveline calcifying and crumbling her finally. After the battle, Ethan and Mia are rescued by Chris. The final shots of the game are Ethan speaking over clips of marshlands and the reveal of the Blue Umbrella helicopter.

“Well that certainly was something….” Ethan says as the credits roll. Mia wide eyed and shocked nods in agreement.

“So, all that actually happened?” Rose asks her parents, they both nod. “Ok well that doesn’t explain how the heck this got made or why we were sent it or by who!” Rose rants.

“Who cares, it was awesome!” Dani exclaims high fiving Angie who cheers with her.

“Can we leave now? My back is beginning to hurt.” Bela complains standing up and stretching.

Rose boos her, “Fine be boring. What did everyone else think?” She asks everyone left in the room.

“Amazing! Fantastic! Ten out of ten!” Dani exclaims clinging onto Rose.

“It was interesting, very cinematic. A bit tropey at times but it works in its favor. Especially since this technically happened. The villains were enjoyable and empathetic at the same time.” Heisenberg critiques.

“Yeah, whatever it was fine.” Cass says getting up and leaving the room.

“I had quite a nice time, I’m glad you suggested this, Rose.” Alcina says picking up the sleeping Donna. “I’m sure Donna will apologize for falling asleep tomorrow morning. Have a good night.” She kisses the top of Rose and Dani’s heads and leave the room.

“It was quite informative, thank you for inviting me, Rose. I truly appreciate it. Now I must go and review my notes.” Miranda says looking at her notebook as she slowly leaves the room.

“We are actually going to bed, but thanks for inviting us, Rose. We’ll have to do it again soon!” Elena says grabbing Miranda’s arm and taking her notebook.

“I think your mom and I have some talking to do, but you guys have a good night sweetie.” Ethan says getting up before kissing Rose on the head.

“Yeah, outside of the horrifying content of this ‘game’ it was fun. Have a good night honey.” Mia says following her husband to their room.

“Alright seems like the party is dying down and someone has to get Sal to his room. Seems like he and Donna can’t stay up late like us cool kids.” Heisenberg laughs out shaking Sal awake. Sal stands up groggily and leans ion Heisenberg as they leave to their respective rooms.

“Lame everyone left. You want to stay up or are you hitting the sack too?” Dani asks Rose.

“I think I’m going to bed too. I have a lot to think about.” Rose says hugging Dani, “See you in the morning Dan.” Dani decides to follow Rose and they head to bed.

In his assigned quarters, the Duke watches the group scatter to their rooms for bed, “I’m glad they enjoyed my little gift. Hopefully, it answers some questions for them.” The Duke says to himself chuckling.

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 2: The Proposal & The Deal

Summary/Author's Notes: Oh.my.god. the response from part one was fucking WILD. I love you guys so so so much! As always, dedicated to @rae-gar-targaryen. She’s had a bad week, yall, go show her some love. <3 ITS WHAT MAX WOULD DO.

Max explains himself and gets down on one knee to ask the big question. Your trust is tested as he tries to pull a fast one, but he makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: Language, flirting, SEXUAL TENSION, Max Phillips is a bastard man, vampire themes

Chapters [1] [MASTERLIST]

Max finally caught up with you and convinced you to go with him to the immigration office. The entire cab ride across town you were seething. Neither of you spoke, and when the cab parked in front of the Federal Plaza building you got out. Glad to leave him to pay for the cab and top it off with slamming the car door in his face. You heard him growl his frustration but didn’t stop as you stormed into the building and he had to jog to keep up.

"Will you slow down?" He snarled and you ignored him.

How could he be this egregiously shameful? You knew Max was cunning. That he would do anything to make the sale, to close a deal, but this--this was a whole other level, even for him.

In hushed tones, in his office, as you threw your items in your purse, he had explained that he was being deported. That the government had caught him in a technicality of his after-life status versus his human one, and although you agreed it seemed to be a petty place to draw the line, his way of kicking you into the fire with him made you not want to help. Did he deserve to be sent back to Romania? Probably not. But forcing you into marriage? Or an even better term for it would be forcing you into fraud. The two of you were breaking the law and he didn’t even have the balls to ask you first.

The immigration office was jammed packed with multiple lines of people waiting for a free attendant and dozens of others waiting in chairs, looking over reading material and playing on their phones. This was going to take forever. Apparently, Max had other plans, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you both to the front of the line. No one stopped him, no one questioned him as you tried to make your face as apologetic as possible to the people already in line that were giving you dirty looks. He asked for the fiancee visa application and the next thing you knew the two of you were being led into a cramped office in the back and looking over the desk at a very stoic, older, government worker.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” the older man said as he pulled out a file folder filled with papers. “Busy day.”

“Of course, of course,” Max nodded, crossing his ankle over his knee and giving the man his best smile. “We appreciate you meeting with us on such short notice.”

The older man looked Max up and down slowly and smirked--whatever Max was selling, he wasn’t buying and the realization made you want to lean over the chair and vomit on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, so, I only have one question for you,” he continued to smirk as he closed your file and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Are you both committing fraud, in order to keep Mr. Phillips here from being deported back to Romania and losing his position as CFO at his company?”

“What!”

“Ridiculous!”

Max and you both scoffed at the same time and shook your heads as you waved your hands in front of you and he rolled his eyes, giving a good-hearted laugh.

“Mr.--” Max looked at the nameplate on the desk as he leaned forward and addressed the man. “Yates. That is an absurd assumption. We are just a couple that want to get married and I assure you, our case will be the easiest one you have all day. So, just tell us what we need to sign and we can get out of your hair.”

You wished more than anything you had the courage to grip Max’s leg and beg him to shut up. His normal bullshit was not going to get either of you any favors with this man and if he didn’t tread carefully, you both were about to be in a world of trouble. You knew you wouldn't last in jail, but Max really wouldn't last in jail. That mouth that never seemed to stop talking would get him stabbed...wait, maybe jail was a good idea after all.

"What makes you think we're lying, Mr. Yates?" You asked, crossing your ankles and moving your legs to the side comfortably.

"A tip that came in this afternoon from a concerned citizen--"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Evan, would it?" Max asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"I knew it. He is nothing more than a very disgruntled employee who is out to get me." Max shook his head and waved it away as if that discredited the tip. "I fired him this morning."

The other man scribbled down a couple of notes and went back to pressing his fingertips together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He heaved a large sigh and suddenly looked very tired.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, you two. I am going to schedule you an interview for next week. I am going to put you both in separate rooms. I am going to ask you a series of questions that real couples would know all of the answers to.” He said the term ‘real’ in a pointed way and looked directly at you, making your stomach fall to your feet. “And that’s the easy part--”

“Okay, seems fair.” Max started, but Mr. Yates ignored him.

“Then I am going to dig deeper. I’m going to check your phone records, your emails, talk to your friends and family--your coworkers. If anything, and I mean anything, seems out of order or does not match your story, you,” he pointed to Max. “Will be deported to Romania indefinitely. And you, young lady,” he turned and pointed to you. “Will be fined two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a minimum five year sentence in federal prison.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt as you felt your vision narrow, your body threatening you with the idea of passing out. You felt like you were sitting inside a vacuum, like a larger entity had sucked all of the air out of the already too small office space.

Prison. It wasn’t enough that you had been at his beck and call for the last five years. If this all went sideways, Max Phillips, in a last act of extreme selfishness was going to get you sent to prison.

“So, that being said, Ms. (y/l/n),” he smiled and crossed his arms as he addressed you. “Do you want to talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“What’s really going on--” you started, your heart hammering in your ears so loudly that you were sure Mr. Yates could hear it.

You looked at Max and thoughtp about how you wanted to do this. Could you really throw him under the bus and let them ship him away from his home? Could you match his heartlessness and protect yourself above all else? No. Despite how much he deserved it, that wasn’t how you operated. He had insisted on dragging you into this mess and now it seemed, at least for the time being, you were going to have to play along. He looked at you with those soft, coffee colored eyes, so full of anticipation that you almost groaned. Instead you reached over the arm of his chair and patted his leg.

“What’s really going on is that Max and I are getting married,” you squeezed his knee and saw him give a full body sigh of relief out of the corner of your eye. “We just couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” you shrugged. “And we were worried how my family would take it.”

“I see,” Mr. Yates leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms waiting for you to continue.

“And--” you, glanced at Max and back. “Because of the promotion.”

“Promotion?”

Both Max and the older man said at the same time and you steeled your resolve and continued.

“Yes, I am in line for a big promotion, and both of us felt if our relationship went public before that it would look unprofessional. Right, honey?” You looked at Max and although you were smiling, your eyes dared him to say otherwise.

“That’s...right, dear.” He nodded, putting his hand over yours on his knee.

Mr. Yates looked at the both of you for what felt like a very long time. You kept your smile even for so long, your cheeks started to ache. The hand you had on Max’s thigh offered a small amount of comfort and you allowed it to ground you, to center your mind as you did your best to look like the definition of truthfulness.

“Well,” he sighed and opened up a filing cabinet and pulled a very large binder full of papers for the two of you. “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. Here are the questions you could be asked, there are about three hundred of them--along with all of the forms that need to be filled out, references we will need, and copies of your identifications. As well as,” he paused and looked pointedly at the both of you. “The marriage certificate.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and took the binder from him.

“Have either one of you told your families about this, happy little arrangement?” he asked as he gestured between the two of you.

Max laughed and shook his head. “No, my parents are dead. Only child, too. It’s a real shame.”

Mr. Yates, chuckled dryly, not understanding how such information could be considered funny. “And what about you, Ms. (L/n)? Are all of your relatives dead as well?”

“Mine?” you put a hand to your chest. “No, no, they are alive--”

“We were actually going to tell them the news this weekend,” Max chimed in and you looked at him in surprise. “It’s grandma’s 85th birthday--we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. How did he know about your grandmother’s birthday? The idea that Max paid more attention to you than you thought was sitting uneasily in your stomach, but you continued to smile and nodded in agreement.

“We’re flying up to, (y/n)’s parents house.” Max took the binder as you handed it to him.

“And where is that?”

“Alaska.” You said simply, crossing your legs and adjusting the hem of your pencil skirt, reveling in the way Max’s entire face fell.

“Ah-ah-las-kah?" Max stuttered and glared at you. "Alaska." He cleared his throat and repeated.

You returned his intense look of malice with an overly satisfied smile. It felt good to ruffle those feathers, to catch him off guard and see him out of his element.

“Well, I wish you both a safe trip,” Mr. Yates stood up to show you the door and the both of you mirrored him. “I’ll call to schedule your visa interview after what I’m sure will be a lovely week.”

Leaving the federal office felt like you were walking in slow motion. You vaguely heard Max put his bluetooth on his ear and take a call, letting his boisterous voice echo in the too loud, too crowded lobby. Going out onto the street and feeling the cool air on your skin didn’t make breathing any easier as you thought about what just happened. In your trance you almost dropped the heavy glass door on Max’s face.

He hung up the call and started talking like everything was just a normal day back at the office, like the two of you hadn’t just been threatened with the American government absolutely ruining your lives.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said as he put his sunglasses on to protect him against the already very overcast autumn sky. “What’s going to happen is we are going to run up to your parent’s place, act like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend--we can stay in a hotel and that will make it easier to fake. Make sure you use the miles for the tickets--”

“Max…”

“I will pay to have you fly first class, but only, and I mean only if you use the miles. If I don’t get rewards, then we aren’t going.” He pulled his sleeve up slightly and looked at his watch. “Also, please confirm they offer vampire accommodations, because I swear if they put me next to some old hag like last time and I have to smell her O-positive, diabetic, dustiness for six hours--I’m. Going. To. Lose. It.”

“Max--”

He stopped as he realized he had walked quite a ways in front of you and he turned around. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Your jaw dropped and you stomped over to him and shoved the binder against his chest with enough force that he stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry! Were you not in that room with me just now? Were you not fucking listening??” You were almost screaming and he looked around quickly before stepping closer and towering over you.

“You look crazy, calm down--”

“Calm down? You have some neve, Max. Some. Fucking. Nerve.” With each word you poked your manicured finger into the middle of his chest, on top of his stupid, yellow tie. He grabbed your wrist to stop you but you yanked out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“Listen,” he took a breath and spoke to you like the ticking time bomb that you were. “You did well back there. That thing about the promotion? That was genius. He really bought that.”

Evan’s words rang back through your head and you took a step back looking at Max. He's never going to promote you. You know that, right? Five years. For five years you had done everything for him. You had done the work of an executive level salesman and made a secretary's salary. And for what? To constantly be missing out on important things in your life? Friends. Family. Dating. You couldn't remember the last time you had actually been on a date with anyone. Everything seemed to revolve around the man in front of you--and you had reached your limit. All of this was asking too much of you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was flat and even. “I meant it. I want that promotion.”

“To what? Evan’s job?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m the one that is facing a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and jail time--that changes things. I want Evan’s old job and a thirty percent raise.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet as you held his gaze.

Max moved his bottom jaw from one side to the other, a tick you had often seen and come to realize meant he was mulling over his options. “Fifteen.”

“Forty.” You counter offered the wrong way and he gave a hard bark of laughter. “Okay, fine. I’m walking. You’re screwed. Goodbye, Max--have fun in Romania.”

No sooner did you turn around did Max lunge forward and grab you by the upper arm. “Okay! Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

He looked at you pointedly and pulled you into the front of his body. His eyes shimmered for a brief moment and his lips turned upward into a small grin. “Unless--you’ll take something else? Plus, ten percent of course, I’m not a monster.”

You felt as if a small breeze was whispering against the nape of your neck, and you fought the urge to bat at it like a fly. The press of his voice worked its way into your ear and you could almost feel it trying to go deeper. When you realized what he was doing, you gasped and slapped him across the face. “Did you just try and hypnotize me??”

“Ah, shit!” he released your arm and put his hand to his cheek. “Did it not work?!”

“Go to hell, Max!” You turned once again and started walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the faces of the people that were nosily watching your heated exchange.

“Why the fuck didn’t it work--” he mumbled, continuing to rub his cheek and coming to his senses once he saw you putting more distance between the two of you. “Hey!” He jogged quickly and passed you easily in your high heels, turning around so he could look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Typical,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I can’t do this without you,” he held his hands up defensively and gave you an almost pleading look. “I’ll give you the promotion, and the raise. If I’m not at that company, they will get rid of you like that,” he snapped his fingers and you clenched your jaw. “I don’t want to go back to Romania. I didn’t have such a good trip the last time.” He smiled way too large, an action more for the purpose of pulling back his lips so he could gesture to his fangs. “So, will you do this?”

"I have a few conditions."

"Name them."

"We do this my way, and on my terms. This is my family that we are lying to, so we will tell them when I want, and how I want."

"Done. Next?"

"How did you know it was my grandmother's birthday?"

"You think I can't hear every time your family calls and begs you to quit? Even without superhuman hearing--you sit right next to my office." He made a gesture of his hand pantomiming a small distance.

"Fine."

"Fine." You both said one right after the other in shared stubbornness and mutual disdain. "Anything else?"

You crossed your arms under your breasts slowly and straightened your shoulders. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what? I just--”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Max paused and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hand down his face and chuckling like your request was unbelievable. “Uh. Fine. Fine.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Like you mean it,” you insisted. “On your knees.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water. His large hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around embarrassed by the idea that any of the hundreds of people on the street could see what he was about to do. He looked at the ground to make sure there wasn't anything obviously sticky lurking on the pavement before slowly getting down on one knee.

"There. Happy?" He gestured to himself and you nodded.

"Oh, extremely."

He sighed and bit his tongue with what he really wanted to say as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "So, will you marry me?"

"I believe I said, ask me nicely. Sales. Is. Seduction. Right, Max?" You clenched your fists and brought them into your chest, mimicking his speech from earlier in a most obnoxious way. "Seduce me, then. Really sell it."

Max blew a heavy sigh in the form of a loud raspberry and cracked his neck. He shook out his arms in a dramatic display like he was getting ready to perform and finally looked up at you. His expression was genuine enough. His eyes were warm and his smile small, and he even took your hand and held it out in front of him lightly.

"Sweetheart--(y/n), beautiful, intelligent, decadent, sexy, vibrant--"

"Enough." You said with a frown. "Remember, I'm a person, not a dessert."

He continued as if you hadn't interrupted his string of praise. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You tapped your chin in mock contemplation and gave a single nod. "Okay. Yes. Although I don't appreciate the sarcasm." You let go of his hand and let it fall to his side as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. "Get me a ring. If we break the news to my mother and there's no ring, she will go bezerk."

"Fair enough."

"See you at the airport, Max."

You walked passed him without another word, leaving the most powerful man you had ever met on his knees in the middle of the New York street.

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#max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x reader #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #with cherries on top #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #max phillips x you #the proposal

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pikapikabishes · 3 years

Text

It's Okay Now(Kirishima x gn!Reader)

Disclaimer: all characters rightfully belong to their original creators, only thing that is mine is the plot. Also do not copy my writing. Thank you

Summary: Class 3A's Y/n was having a jolly day hanging out with the BakuSquad, including her amazing bf of over 6 months, Eijirou Kirishima, even with all the stress piling up, like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst, until said explosion finally happened. Triggered by the littlest, probably stupidest event

Warnings: anxiety (?), panic attacks, not eating for days, mentions death, suggestive themes, a bit of swearing

Mentions: mental breakdown, overworking oneself, starvation, hyperventilating, ugly crying, kiri being absolutely biggest sweetheart, daddy!Kiri breifly

A/n: this is my first fic on Tumblr so please be nice, and if you enjoyed it, like and comment

Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my chest, my mind. I don't even know what happened. One minute I'm perfectly fine, having a good time with my friends, the next I'm in this situation.

Im sitting in the middle of my dorm on the floor, crying and sobbing over the smallest thing. I admit being stressed with everything going on in my life; with upcoming school exams , training every single day to improve my ultimate moves, and the biggest clicher... my dad's passing a couple months prior.

This whole time I've just been bottling it all up, trying my hardest to put up a brave front as to not worry my mom, who already has a lot on her plate, my friends and boyfriend, Kirishima. To be frank, I haven't even told my class or Kiri, keeping a bright smile as to not hint them in on my life crashing down around me. Some days are easy to keep up my smile, to let my mind focus on something else, and then there are harder days when everything reminds me of my dad.

I was real close to him, we did a lot of fun stuff together; going to amusement parks, going out to see movies we both were really excited to watch, going out to eat at our favorite restaurants.

It still doesnt feel real after all this time. It felt just like yesterday he was perfectly fine, we were celebrating my grandma's birthday, and literally the next day, I find him stiff and eerily still in his bed. And then everything crashing down on me as the paramedics regretfully tell me that my dad was no longer of this world, when I sob into the phone to my mom that my dad was gone, when I listened to my grandma's wails as my mom told her of her son's passing.

It all felt so surreal, like if I go over to see my grandma at her house, I'll see my dad sitting there in the living room, greeting me with his smile and warm hugs and kisses.

I sob harder as I remember all the times we watched Disney movies and me crying at some scenes as my dad happily comforts me. Buying me a toy from one of the movies I adored at the time. Him gifting me a puppy when he moved into a new neighborhood and I didnt have anyone to play with.

My head's pounding, a deep pressure in my brain, as I clutch tightly to the same doll he bought me all those years ago. My screams silent as I try to keep my classmates from finding me in such a pathetic state and worrying about me, my brain not processing that everyone was still at school. I fought to take control of my emotions again, wanting to be strong for my mom, grandma, and my friends. Unknowning of the pace of my breathing as I desperately tried to grasp my emotions.

My stress and anxiety climbing higher with each panicked breath. All those late nights I stayed up studying as much as I can for the midterm exams, catching up to me. I even forsaken eating as to study so I can at least get a passing grade. And the times I didnt spend studying was spent training to try and get my mind to focus on anything rather than fully face the reality that I no longer live in a world with my dad in it.

When was the last time I had a fulfilling meal? Three days?? And the time before that?? I dont even remember, the pounding in my head preventing me from thinking too much. All I can think about is what caused this stupid meltdown in the first place, my frustrations climbing higher with my stress and anxiety.

~~~

Today was one of those days where it was hard to keep up my smile for people. In an attempt to cheer myself up, I made myself the same lunch my dad and I used to make together for later, excited to eat as this was my first actual meal in days.

As I stroll down the hallways to meet up with Kiri and the rest of the BakuSquad, someone in a rush, bumps into me full force, causing me to fall and drop my lunch on the floor. I only had a moment to grieve as I see my precious lunch splattered all over the floor before the person that bumped into me uttered a measly, rushed "sorry" before hurrying on their way, stepping my lunch in the process.

I stayed there in my position on the floor, looking at my lunch with grief. I know it was stupid to start crying over something that can be replaced with something else that Lunch Rush made, but there the crocodile tears were. My heart and mind had wanted that lunch.

Without thinking I got up and ran out of school and towards the dormitories, deaf to the calls of my fellow 3A classmates and the incoming call on my phone.

~~~

I was brought back to the present by the sound of pounding coming from my dorm door. I was still fighting for control, not able to send a reply without my sobs mixing in with my voice.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through the door. Of course it would be Kiri to be checking up on me. "I tried calling you to see where you were, but you didn't answer. Tsuyu told me she saw you running off upset when I went to go looking for you."

For some reason I sobbed harder, barely able to keep quiet.

"Princess/Prince, please tell me what's wrong, I'm getting really worried."

He stayed quiet for a moment, anxiously waiting for my response. And of course my body betrays me when an ugly sob wracks through my very being, unable to quiet it down.

"Princess/Prince, are you crying?!" Kiri's voice carried his panic and worry. "I'm coming in!" He warned before slamming the door open.

I barely raised my head to meet his worried crimson eyes as his giant frame took up most of the doorway, frozen. His expression falls at the sight of the giant crocodile tears running down my face, distress written all over my expression.

Without saying anything, he rushed over to my side, his big, warm hand landing on my back, immediately rubbing gentle circles as to comfort me.

"Baby, what's wrong? Tell me," he asked, voice trying to soothe me. I shook my head, unable to say or utter a word and I dropped my head again, breathing erratic. "You're hyperventilating, baby. You need to try and calm down a bit."

More sobs was the only thing I responded with. Hearing some shuffling, a moment passed before a soft calming melody sounded through the storm in my mind, along with the sound of gentle falling rain. It was the same several hour music track that I would usually listen to when something was bothering me.

I've always loved the sound of falling rain and ocean waves.

Kiri dropped his phone to the floor, letting the music wrap us in its soothing melody. He brought his hand to my cheek to gently bring my face up and face him. His expression sad as he gets a better look at my distraught, of the crocodile tears streaming down my face, of the deep sadness in my eyes.

Letting his other hand to join my face, he gently wiped away my tears as I tried to control my breathing. "Baby, you have to calm down. It's okay now, I'm here," he said in a gentle voice, bringing me up onto his lap, and wrapping his strong arms around me.

I clutch onto his uniform jacket, burying my face into his chest as I sobbed away, ruining his uniform with my tears and snot.

He gently rocked the both of us, bringing one of his hands up to my head as he softly brushed his fingers through my hair. "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he whispered in my ear.

I don't know how long we sat there, listening to falling rain, Kiri rocking us, whispering calming words into my ear before my breathing was back to normal and my sobs turning into sniffles. Even long after I've calmed down, Kiri still held onto me tightly, grounding me from the storm whirling in my mind.

Only when I lifted up my head from his chest to look up at him did he give me a soft smile, reaching up to brush away strands of hair from my face and eyes. Then, Kiri reached over to his phone, pausing the music before turning back to me.

"Feeling better?"

I slowly nodded my head, my voice hoarse as I finally managed to give a reply, "Yeah, a little bit."

"What happened back there?" Kiri asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

Tears were already welling up in my (e/c) eyes, my bottom trembling as I fought to hold back the tears. Kiri reached up one hand to hold my chin, his thumb softly brushing my bottom lip.

"Please baby, I hate seeing you so distraught," he told me, eyes full of concern as he continued to stroke my bottom lip, as if trying to coax the words to come out, to explain what was paining me so much so he can fix it.

"I-" I stuttered, sniffling back the tears. "I miss him."

"Miss who, baby?" Kiri asked, confused.

"M-my dad," I said, voice now shaky as the tears started falling again. "I m-miss him so much."

Kiri seemed to come to the conclusion that I might have only been extremely homesick. "Why dont you go visit him today then? It's Friday, so you can just stay with him for the weekend."

I violently shook my head. "I-I can't."

"Why not, baby?" He started stroking my back again to try and comfort me.

"H-he died! Two months ago!" I sobbed, pressing my face to his chest again.

"Oh fuck. Shit, I am soo sorry baby. Why didn't you tell me?" Kiri asked, hugging me tightly to him. "I would've been there for you."

"I-I didn't w-want to w-worry y-you," I cried.

Kirishima started rocking us both again, his grip on me tighter as if trying to hold me together. "Of course I'm going to be worried baby. I have been worried about you. I noticed you've been distancing yourself for a while now, but I didn't want to make you talk when you weren't ready. God, I'm so unmanly, not realizing that you were in so much pain all this time." He placed his hand on top of my head. "I am sooo sorry, baby."

I sniffled, shaking my head. "D-Don't be. I w-was the one who d-decided not to t-tell any of you g-guys. I-it's not your f-fault."

"But why didn't you tell us baby? You know we all would've been here for you."

I shrugged. "I-I just wanted to be s-strong for y-you guys. I d-didn't want to w-worry any of you."

"Oh, babe." He pulled back enough to look at me. "You are strong. But it's okay to lean on us, on mee. Just because you're crying, doesn't make you weak. You're mourning, and its okay to cry when you're mourning. It just shows how close you are with your dad and how much you're missing him."

"But... But it feels like my fault though," I cried.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed again in confusion.

"I... I was there that night. The night he passed." I wiped at the tears even though it was fruitless with how the tears continued to fall. "We were all happily celebrating my grandma's birthday. We were all laughing. And I went to sleep a bit late that night. I noticed how his was position in his bed when I got up to use the bathroom, but I didnt think any of it. My dad sits in that position sometimes, and I know that he goes to sleep way later than me. And when I woke up at 11 the next morning because of my grandma calling for me, I got up to see what she needed. You remember, that my grandma cant really move around that well anymore?" I asked him.

Kiri nodded his head, remembering that I helped my grandma when the two of us had dinner with my dad and grandma. "So when I got up and headed towards her room, I saw my dad in the same position. But figured he must've just fallen asleep... Then I went to use the bathroom after helping my grandma, and when I looked closer, I noticed how swollen his feet were. I... I knew my dad was always sick and his legs getting swollen all the time, but... I-I just didnt think I'd find him like that." I cried, covering my mouth as another sob wracked threw me. "Vomit... All over the blankets and his bierd... A blood clot hanging from his nose-"

"Shhh, its okay, baby" Kiri hushed me, rubbing my back, "If it's too much for you, you don't have to explain anymore."

After waiting for my breathing to stabilize again, I continued, "I... I just feel like if I had checked up on him before I went to bed... Maybe... Maybe the paramedics would've been able to save him..."

Kiri grabbed onto my shoulders to pull me away so as to look me dead in the eyes with a stern look. "Y/n, listen to me. It is not your fault," he said firmly. "Okay? It is not your fault. Sometimes these things happen."

"But-" I started, but he cut me off.

"No but's. Okay? I know I havent known him as long as you, but I could tell from the first time I met him that he was soo proud of you. And probably still is." His words made me cry harder, my bottom lip trembling again as I tried to pull myself together in front of this amazing man in front of me. "There's no need to beat yourself up over this," Kiri said, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I started bawling my eyes out again. Kiri started rocking us again, holding me tight as I let out all my sadness and anguish.

"Shhhh... It's okay... Everything's will be okay..." He mumbled in my ear. "Let it all out."

We stayed like that for the next hour as I let out all my suffering, the scent of his cologne, the comforting words, and the sound of the music track all lulling me to sleep, my mind and body too heavy to fight it off.

~~~

I woke up to a dark room, the sun long gone over the horizon. I blearily blinked my eyes open, feeling my tears dried over the skin of my cheeks. All of a sudden, a warm hand slides under my shirt, rubbing a thumb on my stomach. A face was then buried into the back of my neck, a soft pair of lips kissing at the skin.

"Morning beautiful/handsome," came Kiri's sleep filled voice

"Mmnn what time is it?" I mumbled.

Kiri pulled away for a moment, turning to reach behind him for presumably his phone on my nightstand. Squinting at the glare of the phone, Kiri gave me an answer, "7 o'clock at night, so its just about dinner time." Dropping his phone back onto the nightstand, he resumed his position of spooning me, completely dwarfing my body with his giant frame. "You haven't ate lunch right?"

I shook my head. "Or breakfast. Or dinner last night. Or any meals for the past few days."

"What?" Kiri shot up, glaring down at me. "And the time before that?"

I shrugged, my brain too drained to think of a solid answer. "Couple days."

"Y/n!"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be skipping my meals everyday. I should eat at least once a day."

"Is that why you look thinner? Cause you've been skipping your meals??!"

I shrug at him. "I was busy studying for the midterms. Besides I never went 3 days without eating something."

"That's not the point!" Kiri rubbed his hand down his face before looking at me with worry. "You shouldn't be skipping any meals or overworking yourself like this." He reached over to brush a lock of hair away. "Babe, my heart hurts at the thought of you not taking care of yourself."

I place my hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. "I know... I'm sorry. I didnt mean to worry you like this. I just... couldn't come to terms with reality so I busied myself to make me forget the pain. On the bright side I came up with this new, awesome ultimate move I've been dying to show you," I said with some excitement, trying to cheer him up.

He scowled sternly at me for a moment before sighing, shaking his head, any trace of worry and frustration gone from his face as a small smile took over his lips. "Alright fine." But then the stern look came back as he firmly told me, "But I'm not letting you skip any meals anymore, even if I have to force you to eat. And you're not doing no studying or training this weekend."

"Wait, but-" I tried to counter, stopped when the stern look in his eyes intensified.

"No if's, and's or but's. Unless its yours up in the air as I fuck you so hard you wont be able to do anything this weekend but relax."

I blushed and swallowed loudly. "Good, now wait here while I go get you a plate. Bakugou's supposed to be cooking tonight." He leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. Then another. Then another and another before pulling away only slightly to look into my eyes with that familiar dark look in his eyes, a smirk forming on his handsome face. "Maybe I should grab you two plates. You're going to need it for fuel for tonight."

My faced burned as I realized what he meant. He chuckled darkly before standing up and walking towards the door. "I'll be back in a few. And you better be stripped down to nothing by the time I get back." Turning back towards me with a seductive look. "Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl/boy. Daddy's going to take real good care of you this weekend." Then he opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

I gulped loudly, already feeling that familiar heat down below.

It was going to a long weekend.

#gender neutral #anguish #daddy kirishima #mentally drained #kirishima eijiro x reader #my hero academia

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