#getting stolen & then all these years later getting an email from some guy who found the manuscript & sending him the scan

[heartyearning]

got 2 new books today (esc&ctrl by steve hollyman and boy parts by eliza clark) and im ngl the first one especially was a cover buy like the summary sounded good but i coulda picked up any other book and bought that instead if it wasnt for the cover, but omg i just started reading it and the summary which sounded intriguing is DWARFED by the PREMISE of this book which has me shaking & crying & clawing at the walls of my fucking enclosure

#so the summary is basically smth along the lines of 'some guy wakes up in a different country without knowing how he got there #his gf has been murdered in their home country & now a sextape they made once is going viral bc someone else entirely posted it' #which like !! sounds interesting !! & the book is incredible to hold too like the weight of it & the binding quality is like #its a super floppy book basically its very nice so thats why i bought it #but i just read the foreword and OH MY GODDDDDDD MY GOD MY GOD. idk if its true & also thts not the fucking point but #the foreword is the author talking abt the manuscript for a novella he wrote on a typewriter & didnt have any other edition of #getting stolen & then all these years later getting an email from some guy who found the manuscript & sending him the scan #-ned in pages of the manuscript to make sure its the actual manuscript & theres been chapters added #by someone who seems to know the author (bc of injokes and what not) and OHHHH THAT IS SO #SO GOOD TO ME IDFK. IM BUZZING. IDK IF I SHOULD READ THIS NOW OR SAVE IT TO READ TOMORROW #BC I FEEL LIKE THIS IS A SINGLE SITTING TYPE OF READ #ough ough ough so exciting. also the impact hashtag impact house of leaves has had on the courier font industry. #im joking of course but like its partially explained in footnotes which are of course partially written in courier #to be fair part of the book in general is also written in courier but like idk its funny

[boldlyvoid]

touch me

spencer reid x reader

Summary: Spencer is incredibly touch-starved and hard on himself since coming home from prison. Luckily, the medical examiner in this small town is really good at reading people, and exactly what he needs.

warnings: mentions of cases, insecurity issues, female reader, smut, blowjobs, riding, praise, emotional hurt/comfort. emotional sex, strangers to lovers, hook-ups,

word count: 5.8k

They had been in New Mexico for almost a week, solving a series of murders that seemed to have no end in sight. There was nothing they could do but go back to their hotels to sleep, hoping there’d be a connection in the morning.

Spencer and JJ were sharing a room as the small town hotel didn’t have accommodations for everyone that was visiting to help with the case. They didn’t mind, it was like a long sleep-over.

They did their own thing, kept their space and Spencer really did enjoy overhearing her on FaceTime with her kids. It was refreshing happiness in the middle of the madness murder sadness and despair they were swallowed by.

When his phone rang at 6 am, just shortly after he returned to his room for a quick rest, he sighed deeply, “Dr. Reid.”

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but another body dropped and I need you to go to the ME,” Prentiss explained softly down the line. “It’s weirder than the other’s and you’re the only person who would be able to work it out with the examiner.”

“I’m on it,” he replied with a tightlipped smile. He hung up and looked over at JJ, already peacefully asleep on her bed. He closed the door softly on his way out, not wanting to disturb her any further.

At the other end of the hallway, Spencer stood and waited for the elevator. It seemed to be taking forever, everything he was doing lately dragged on and on with no end in sight. He was exhausted, still struggling with his PTSS, just all around not having the best time.

He was in the middle of rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when the elevator opened with an equally tired woman waiting inside. “Hi,” she said before covering her mouth to yawn, “sorry.”

“I get it,” he smiled as he stepped inside. “Lobby?”

“Yes please,” she smiled. “Are you here for the case too?”

“Uh, yes,” he answered softly, “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, with the FBI.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, the medical examiner,” her face lit right up. “Agent Prentiss said you’d be joining me I just didn’t think this quickly.”

She was adorable, bubbly and happy in a way he envied. He missed the feeling of random giddiness, smiling at her as he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. “Do you need a ride? I have an SUV from the bureau.”

“Yeah,” her smiled got bigger. “That would be really nice.”

They walked closely together through the lobby and towards the parking structure, he hit the unlock button a few times while trying to figure out which SUV his keys matched to. Finally getting in and watching her climb in the passenger seat.

“Do you know anything yet about the body?” Spencer asked as he turned on the ignition.

“Yeah hold on,” she pulled her iPad out of her bag and started sliding through emails.

“Your tech girl sent me the initial police reports, witness statements and overview,” she began to explain. “Like the others, she’s a 25-year-old female, blond, blue-eyed, athletic.”

“Prentiss said it was a weird one?” Spencer added.

“They think she was embalmed before the unsub staged her,” Y/N added with a tone of disgust on her voice. “Do you have your tech girl’s number?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Spencer dug his phone from his pocket and dialled the number.

“Penelope Garcia, the 8th wonder of the world at your service,” she answered after just one ring. “How are you doing on this fine morning, my fine furry friend?”

“Not so hot,” Spencer replied. “I’m with the ME right now on the way to the body, she has a question for you.”

“Oh hello, ask away.”

Y/N was smiling on the front seat, enjoying the show they put on for her. “Um, hi I was wondering if you could look into anyone in this town buying embalming equipment, or if any has been stolen from the funeral home? This town is so under-resourced already, I don’t know where this guy could get this stuff.”

“Absolutely, I’ll add that to my parameters,” Garcia’s voice was lovely and soft. “I’ll call you back if I find anything!”

“She’s lovely,” Y/N exclaimed as Spencer place his phone back in his pocket.

“Yeah, she is.”

Spencer pulled into the morgue’s parking lot, the lights were all on and the Coroners van was parked by the loading doors. Inside there was just 1 officer, waiting beside a body bag as Spencer and Y/N walked in.

The officer gave them both a quick rundown of the crime scene findings, as well as information about where all the equipment was before leaving them to their work.

“Have you ever examined a body?” Y/N asked Spencer.

He nodded, “I’ve been present during a few, held some organs, but I’ve never done one myself.”

“They’re pretty gnarly,” She scrunched her face and giggled. “Let’s get you all geared up.”

She handed him a hairnet, a white plastic suit, goggles and a mask. “Gloves are on the wall, pick your size.”

He felt like a lunch lady standing beside her, taller than her by almost a foot, dressed in all white with a hairnet. He could tell she was smiling at him under her mask, her eyes gleamed up at him in a way that made his heart melt.

He had to remind himself multiple times that this was nowhere close to the time appropriate to want to flirt with someone. They were about to examine a dead body, and potentially solve a case. There would be time to flirt later.

But he was just so amazed by how she worked, being able to tell everything that was going on by just looking at the body. Making notes on her own and only occasionally explaining things to Spencer. In her own little world, solving the puzzle with expertise.

“The other 4 vics were just strangled and staged, dressed up and left in different areas around town,” she ran the case down more for herself, needing to hear the words to make a connection.

“Yes,” Spencer followed her train of thought, tilting his head as he listened.

“She was murdered, embalmed, staged and sexually assaulted. His MO is completely different and it’s only been 2 days since the last body dropped. I think he’s found his signature,” She explained her thoughts. “His sexual aspect comes out only when they’re dead and cold, we’re dealing with a necrophile.”

“While most serial killers start with small animals before moving on to humans, he started with women and then eventually grew to what he really wanted. That’s what we were missing,” Spencer’s eyes lit up.

“He’s a lot younger than you hypothesized in the original profile,” She added.

“You read it?”

She nodded, “yeah I like to know what you’re looking at to see if I have answers.”

“This is really going to help us,” Spencer smiled, his eyes mimicking hers now.

“I can finish up here if you want to go back to your team? I can get a cab,” She offered. “Go catch this guy.”

“Okay,” Spencer said, backing up from the table and taking his equipment off. Placing them in the hazmat garbage. “Are you sure?”

“Yes Dr. Reid, I’ll be fine,” She laughed. “Can I call you if anything comes up?”

He smiled again, “call me even if something doesn’t.” He dug a contact card out of his pocket and placed it on top of her purse. Waving as he walked out of the room.

—

He thought about her smile for the rest of the afternoon, leaving his findings with Prentiss before heading back to his room to sleep for a few hours.

He finally found his way back into the police department 5 hours later, coffee in hand as he tried to absorb all the new information. They had a lead, stolen embalming equipment from a funeral home a few towns over was reported 4 days ago.

He stayed back during the apprehension of the suspect. Simmons, Lewis and Rossi were closer and they didn’t think the unsub would be dangerous. No one was missing and he wasn’t expecting them, should be easy to get him to come in for some questions.

Much like the rest of this case, it didn’t go to plan. They found another woman in his home, having to shoot him in the process. Ending the spree, ridding the world of a necrophile. It just didn’t feel like justice was served when another person had to die.

Spencer sat on his bed, calming down slightly from the end of the case. Saving a woman, killing a murderer, it was all a lot to process in such a short time.

JJ was in her bed on the other side of the room, scrolling through Facebook as she looked at photos of her kids. It was a much easier way for her to calm down, remembering that she could go home to pure, unadulterated happiness at the end of a case.

They heard a small knock on the door, Spencer volunteered to answer, opening it only a small amount as he looked out.

“Oh, hi,” surprised to see Y/N behind the door.

“Would you like to come and drink with me?” She asked, holding up a bottle in her hand. “In my room,” she added.

“Yeah, yes um, hold on,” he closed the door on her softly.

“Who’s that?” JJ smirked at him.

“My friend,” he replied quickly, running to the bathroom to look at his hair and fix his shirt. “I’ll be back later.”

He grabbed his wallet, making sure he had a condom first, before opening the door only a small amount to slip out into the hall. Hiding Y/N from JJ as she tried to look out the door.

“Sorry, my co-worker and I are sharing,” he explained.

“It’s okay,” she smiled, heading towards the stairs. “I’m just a floor up, and the elevator takes a million years.”

Spencer held the door for her, watching her head up the stairs as he noticed the bottle in one of her hands and her shoes in the other. She walked up the steps in her socks, exhausted from the day.

“Did you get any sleep?” She asked him softly as she kept climbing the steps.

“A few hours, did you?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, “I woke up just before they called about the body this morning.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just go to bed? You’ve been working for 12 hours,” Spencer worried for her.

She reached the door for floor 3, pulling it open with the hand she held her shoes in, “Sleep is the for weak.”

He laughed lightly, “do you want me to hold anything?”

“Here,” she handed him the bottle, “thanks.”

She dug the keycard from her pocket as he followed her towards the right door. Excitement bubbled in his chest as she opened the door and welcomed him inside.

It was exactly like his room downstairs, only there was just 1 queen bed and a few couches by the window. She set her things down on the bed, sighing deeply as she sat on the edge.

“Do you have any cups or mugs?” Spencer asked, reminding her that he was holding the alcohol still.

“Yeah, on the bar table over there,” she pointed. “I’m just going to change in the bathroom quickly, you can pour yourself a drink.”

“Okay,” he smiled awkwardly as he crossed the room.

She dug through her suitcase quickly. Spencer saw from the corner of his eye as she took out some shorts and a shirt, not even slightly worried about being so casual in front of a complete stranger.

He inspected the bottle, it was just a cheap scotch, nothing too special. He poured about an inch of the golden liquid into two cups, not a big fan of drinking but tonight he felt a little risky.

She came back looking more refreshed, very cozy, and still breathtakingly beautiful. He hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time, the tightening in his chest as he wondered where the night was going to go.

Not to mention the longing he felt.

Even before prison, he wasn’t one to spend a lot of nights alone with a beautiful stranger. The added isolation in his life changed him on a fundamental level, he realized just how much he craved contact, and just how much he’s deprived himself over the years from both men and women. He just wanted to be loved properly.

He silently handed her one of the cups, smiling at each other softly as they tapped cups. Taking the whole drink, “oh, yep that was exactly what I needed.” Y/N’s eyes watered as her face scrunched up, coughing a bit.

Spencer felt the same, only being able to hide it a bit better. The burn was nice on his throat, it made him feel alive. “Did you want to order some food or anything or?”

She laughed, “that would be the smart and responsible thing to do.”

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

She looked up at him, her shoulders dropping as she released the tension in her body. Looking into his eyes with care, it was so different from the way his co-workers looked at him. She didn’t think he was broken, she had to reason to believe he was even damaged.

“Yeah,” she smiled, placing her hand on his chest as she stepped in closer to him. “Do you like mushrooms on pizza?” She giggled, even this close to him with every opportunity to kiss him, she chose to just make him smile. Something that didn’t happen too often lately.

“I do, it’s my favourite topping actually.”

She took his tie in her hands and dragged him to the couch, “I enjoy topping sometimes too.”

She sat down on the couch and looked up at him, waiting for him to sit beside her. Patting the cushion beside herself while he swallowed sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, making her smirk.

“I won’t bite Spencer,” she laughed finally. “I’m sorry if that was too much?”

“No,” he said, sitting down beside her quickly. “No, it’s fine honestly, I’m just not used to it.”

“Too busy with the FBI to find anyone to hit on you?”

He shook his head softly, pushing his hair out of his face. “I uh, I was framed for murder and in prison for 3 months. I haven’t really had a conversation with anyone I don’t work with in a while.”

“Oh,” she didn’t look surprised or scared. “That makes sense.”

“What does?”

“You’re soft,” she leaned in to press her hand against his chest once more, eye level with him now. Seeing his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes every few seconds as he licked his lips. “You don’t look like you want to hurt anyone, but something about your aura is changing. You know how to protect yourself now, and you’re stuck thinking you’re still in danger.”

“How can you tell all that just from looking at me?” He asked softly.

“If I showed up at any other man’s door with a bottle of alcohol and the offer of a night alone, I would have been pushed against that door the second we got here,” she explained. “You respect me, almost a little too much.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His face was soft and curious and proving her point.

“You see me as a person, but I can tell you’re touch starved. Every time I get close to you, it’s like you don’t want me to move away,” her voice was barely a whisper as she leaned in even closer to him.

She could feel his breath on her face, her nose was close enough to brush against his as she stared at his lips, “but you won’t make the first move. You want to protect me from you.”

He nodded his head lightly before rubbing the tip of his nose against hers and making her smile. He let out a sigh, relaxing his shoulders as she straddled his lap, leaning him back against the couch. He bit the bullet and let his hands rest on her hips, looking at her softly in the hopes it was okay.

“Tell me?” She begged, holding his tie in her hands, running it through her fingers as she waited. “What do you want? What you miss? Let me be that for you,” she begged.

“Anything,” he finally tells her. “Just touch me.”

She loosened his tie, freeing his neck finally. She slowly undoes every single button on his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants as she opens it up.

Her fingers are warm on his skin, but he still gasps at the touch. Her fingers were so soft, like angel kisses as the pads of her fingers traced the skin. Gliding over every freckle, raking through his chest hair, bumping along the barely-there abs.

His thumbs rubbed against her bare thighs, where he held her lightly. “You can touch me too,” she whispered.

His hands travelled up to her waist, he gently pulled her in closer. No longer resting on his legs, but pressed close to his chest. Her hands landed on his shoulders, looking down at him with nothing but pure lust as her breathing hitched.

She cupped his face, gliding her thumbs along his cheeks softly as she stared at his lips. He opened his mouth to breathe, his bottom lip was plump and beautiful and she couldn’t help herself from rubbing her thumb over it.

He kissed her thumbprint before taking it in his mouth, sucking on it softly making her hips buck into his lightly. The suction on her thumb was more erotic than she expected, the feel of his hot mouth, his wet tongue swirling around it before he let her go with a pop.

She accidentally let out a moan that excited him, “like that?”

She immediately felt her heartbeat in her clit, she nodded feverishly. Suddenly at a loss for words, wondering where this Spencer suddenly came from.

“How far are we taking this?” He asked softly. “We can stop and order that pizza at any time?”

There he was, the soft and sweet man that she brought here in the first place. “Pizza is even better after sex,” she couldn’t stop the giggle from erupting from her, even as she bit her lip.

He smiled at her like she was the world. A complete stranger making him feel more than anyone had in the last year. “I’m going to need longer than it takes to deliver a pizza,” he admitted.

“Luckily they’re open late,” she compromised, leaning in and finally kissing him.

It was soft at first, then he pulled her in even closer. She was chest to chest with him as he breathed her in deeply. She melted into his grasp as if he had just stolen her soul right out of her body.

She was his now.

She kept his face in her hands, holding him as he broke the kiss to explore her jaw. Kissing every inch of her neck and chest as she gripped his hair, making him moan as she used her nails to comb through the long locks.

“Does that feel nice?” She cooed, running her nails along his scalp as he tilted his head back.

“My favourite thing,” he explained as he closed his eyes, letting her repeat the same motion again and again.

He looked so peaceful, running his hands over her back and sides softly as she massaged him. She leaned in and kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, both eyelids and his forehead.

He wanted her to touch him everywhere, her delicate touch made him feel worthy for once. Every self-hatred of his washed from his body as she explored him with care, care only one would receive if they were a most prized possession.

He felt loved.

It was overwhelming, he didn’t realize a tear had slipped down his cheek until she was wiping it from his skin. Shushing him softly before kissing him quickly on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, what’s on your mind beautiful?” She asked softly as she brushed through his hair once more.

“I just,” he looked in her eyes ever so innocently. “I’m not used to feeling cared for, no one pays attention to me this way.”

“That’s shameful,” she looked utterly perplexed. “Look at you? You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re powerful. You’re kind and lovely and soft?”

“But I’m also weird and too much to handle,” he interjected.

“Not to me,” she corrected him. “this morning you could have said nothing in the elevator, you could have driven by yourself and awkwardly waited till I was finished my work. But you didn’t, you had a conversation with me, you helped me many times, you cared about me making it back here safely and you didn’t even know me. You’re a special kind of person Doctor Reid, and anyone who doesn’t see it is an idiot.”

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile and furrowed his brow, “do you ever give out parts of yourself to everyone because you know how hard it is to feel appreciated?”

“All the time,” she laughed softly. “But not now.”

“Me either,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“I’ll make you a deal, you tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done and I’ll tell you mine,” she offered. “Even the playing field.”

“How so?”

“Right now you think I’m super nice and kind right? And I just told you how I feel about you, but you hate yourself and outside of here I hate myself too. Share a secret, we can be fucked up together,” she smiled.

“In order to keep myself safe in prison, I poisoned a batch of heroin and almost killed a lot of people,” he responded without thinking.

“Okay,” she was a little shocked that he gave in so fast. “One time I stabbed a guy who tried to touch me after I pushed him off me twice already. He didn’t die, it barely even went in.”

“Both are technically self-defence,” he shrugged.

“See?” She smiled. “You’re not as bad and scary as you think you are. You’re smart and cunning.”

“Are you sure you’re not a therapist?” He teased her, “because this has been better for me than any therapy appointment I’ve ever gone to.”

She laughed again, kissing him softly. “I think it would be against the rules for your therapist to do this, I guess that’s why some men cheat.”

“How so?” He just liked listening to her speak.

“It’s easier to be open with someone you’ll never see again than it is with your therapist or wife because there are no consequences. They can’t judge you or hold anything against you, they do what you paid them for and they leave,” she explained herself.

“I’d like to see you again,” his voice barely a whisper. “If you’d like that?”

She nodded softly, “maybe I’ll move back to Virginia, finally.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Born and raised. I moved to Albuquerque with my girlfriend 5 years ago, and she left me about 2 years ago now,” Y/N explained. “I liked my job too much to move all the way back there and start over.”

“I can put in a good word for you where ever you want,” he offered before he could stop himself from looking too desperate.

“I’ll look into it,” she smiled.

He kissed the centre of her chest again before pulling her into a hug. Hearing her heart beating in her chest softly as she pressed her cheek to the top of his head and rubbed her hand over his back. Soothing him so completely, he felt beyond amazing.

And then she was gone, pulling back from him and standing up. “Wh-?” Before he could even ask, she was lifting her shirt off.

He stared at her breasts, eyes wide and jaw dropped. She walked over to the bar, taking another shot before she pushed her shorts down and climbed onto the bed. Completely naked in under a minute.

He stood then, pushing the opened shirt off his shoulders and immediately undoing his belt. He took a condom from his wallet before kicking off his shoes, dropping his pants and underwear to the floor and stepping out of them.

She was laying back against the pillows when he crawled over her, resting his naked body against hers ever so slightly. She just smirked as she looked up at him, “hi.”

“Hello,” he whispered.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“You.”

He kissed her softly on the lips, or at least he planned to. Y/N wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down against her. Swiping her tongue across his bottom lip, begging to make out with him, finally.

Grabbing and tugging at each other as everything started to heat up, she could feel his erection against her leg as he ground down on her. Sucking on his tongue, lightly making him moan into her mouth.

His hair kept tickling her face, every time she’d push it away it would just fall right back against her skin. She pulled him off by his hair, gasping for air as they stared at each other again.

“Can I be on top?” She asked lightly.

He wrapped his arms under her, holding her close as he rolled over. Watching her settle more onto her knees as she sat on his hips. “Better?”

“Much,” she said as she sat up, taking a hairband off her wrist and putting her hair up. Raising her arms in a way that made her tits perk up. He reached up and cupped them, rubbing his thumb lightly across her nipples before giving them a squeeze.

She just laughed as she finished her ponytail, “having fun?”

“Absolutely,” he smiled up at her.

His hands followed the curve of her body, from her boobs to her waist and down over her hips. She was stunning, confident, everything he ever wanted and more.

She found the condom in the sheets, the bright purple packaging making it easy to see. She played with it in her hands, seeing how long it would take before he got desperate, but he never did.

“How long have you had this?” She asked, trying to tease him.

“Not long,” he was honest. “I just got out of prison, remember?”

“So you haven’t had sex since before you went in?” She looked excited.

“No, why?”

She smiled, “so I’m taking your free man’s virginity.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing?”

“It is now,” she giggled before leaning down to kiss him once more.

Trailing kisses down his neck, stopping only to suck a mark near his Adam’s apple. Hearing the sweet little gasps he made every time her tongue came in contact with his skin. She kissed his clavicle, his shoulder and down his chest. Making her way across his abs and over his lower tummy.

He gripped the sheets, not knowing what she had planned or where she was going. Spreading his legs, she kissed his groin, his right hip bone and the inside of his thighs. He couldn’t believe it, the way she explored him so delicately.

She ignored his cock for a while, kissing and sucking at any and all the visible skin she could find. He felt her smile against his thigh then, getting closer and closer before she took his cock in her hand and kissed the base.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, settling into the bed like water filling a glass, he was liquid in her hands. Her mouth was a blessing and she chose him to worship.

“Fuck,” he moaned as she took all of him as far as she could. Dragging her tongue along the shaft as she pulled back up. Swirling her tongue around the tip before taking him all the way in once more.

She pulled off with a pop, sitting up now with his dick still in her hands. She tore the condom open with her teeth, taking the package off and rolling it over him.

His dick bounced back against his stomach when she let go of it, hard enough that it had a mind of its own now. She bit her lip as she lifted herself over him more, setting herself down softly where it laid against him.

The head of his cock brushed her clit as she ground down on him, his hands found her hips once more as he instinctively helped her find a rhythm.

He could feel how wet she was, the way she glided over him so easily. Her breath hitching every time her hips bucked, she was enjoying herself. It made him even more excited. She leaned back down then, kissing his neck once more as she continued to push down on him.

“I need you,” Spencer gasped.

She smiled against his skin, lifting her hips enough for him to line up with her before she started to sink down on it. He watched himself disappear inside of her, feeling the way she took him in like he was always meant to be there.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she sat down fully, her hands resting on Spencer’s stomach as she tried to get used to it all. Listing herself up and down little by little to get the rhythm going again.

Spencer pulled her back in again, arching her back so she could bounce easier. She held him close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck as she started to move faster and faster on him. Hearing his breathing pick up as his grip tightened on her asscheeks.

She kept one hand in his hair as her other hand reached for her clit, pleasuring herself slightly the way she knew she liked it. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered against his skin as she fucked him.

It had never felt like this before, it was so personal for the first time. They worked together perfectly, not having to communicate at all, following the other person’s rhythm like a well-oiled machine with a task.

He felt her everywhere. Her hands in his hair, her lips on his neck. The way her hot breath tickled right under his ear as she tried to catch her breath against him. The way she pulled off him and sucked him back in, again and again, her breasts against his chest and her ass in his hands.

He couldn’t believe it. That a real human being cared about and appreciated him, even after learning his worst secret. She was special and different and everything he needed.

He could feel himself getting closer, wanting to savour every moment with her that he could. His hands roamed her back, over her shoulders and arms. He wanted to touch every single inch of her while he had the chance.

“I’m so close,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek and resting her open mouth against his.

They weren’t kissing, they were panting over each other with their foreheads resting together. Euphoria filling the empty spaces between them as she came, gasping and shaking violently over him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, bending his knees and driving into her a few more times before he finished.

She tugged on his hair then, biting his bottom lip as she felt him twitch inside of her. Letting out the smallest gasps and whimpers as she pulled her hand out from between them and pushed herself off him.

Dropping her body against his, resting her head on his chest as they caught their breath.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a hug as he repeatedly kissed the top of her head. “Thank you,” he was still out of breath as he said it.

She smiled, laughing against his skin again as she hugged him back.

—

He woke up to the sun in his eyes and the feeling of lips against his skin. He blinked as gained consciousness, finding Y/N laying against his chest again. Her face in his heck where she was placing lazy kisses, trying to wake him up nicely.

“Good morning?” His voice was groggy and deep, it made her smile against his skin. A feeling he didn’t realize he missed so much during the night.

“What time is your flight back?”

“10:30, why?” He asked softly, rubbing his hand over her back softly.

She held him tighter, breathing him in deeply as she did so. Not wanting to let him go any time soon, “it’s 9:45.”

“Is it bad I’m hoping there’s a secret serial killer in Albuquerque?”

She laughed again, sitting up this time so she could look at him again. “Maybe I’ll come to visit my parents soon a find a reason to stay in Virginia?”

“I’d like that,” he smiled, pulling her into a kiss. Never wanting it to be the last one.

He waited till the last possible moment to finally peel himself out of her grasp, trying to find all his clothes and belongings from the night before

He kissed her quickly at the door before taking off down the steps and back to the room he was supposed to be sharing with JJ. He knocked on their door lightly, hoping to every god on earth she hadn’t left yet.

She opened the door and just stared at him with her mouth open, “oh my god?” She laughed.

“What?” He asked, completely oblivious to how he looked.

JJ dragged him inside, pulling him towards a mirror and pointing at his reflection. “What happened to you?”

His hair was a mess, he had hickeys all over his neck. His shirt was barely buttoned, definitely not untucked and he didn’t even have his shoes on. “oh.”

“Oh?” JJ couldn’t believe it. “Who is she?”

“Um, the ME from this case,” he explained, scratching the back of his head as he squinted.

JJ just laughed then, “hurry up and look somewhat presentable, pretty boy, the team is going to eat you alive for this.”

Sure enough, when he finally sat in his little corner of the plane with his glasses on and a hickey still visible above his collar, all eyes were on him. No one wanted to ask, they all just made it abundantly clear that they were curious.

Alvez even took a photo to send to Penelope, who sent it to Derek, who texted Reid only 20 minutes into the flight asking who she was. He rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. About to get really pissed when a second text came in.

555-0623: if you’re still serious about that recommendation, there is a spot available at the DC medical examiner’s office… I’d probably be closer to you than your therapist’s office 💋

He smiled then, saving her number and starting his letter.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #one shot

[backofthebookshelf]

The DMCA and You; or, why Tumblr won’t get sued over Post+

 I keep seeing people saying “doesn’t Tumblr understand they’re inviting an avalanche of lawsuits” and being baffled that people think this, and then I remembered that most of you were not both alive and in fandom in 1998 and therefore probably haven’t spent hours reading through the DMCA trying to figure out exactly how it was going to screw us. (Turns out we were right, but not nearly pessimistic enough.) So gather ‘round, children, it’s time for another bout of fandom history.

You have to understand what the internet looked like in 1998. Most people didn’t have internet access at home, and for those who did, you got a whopping 54 kbps (yes, that’s kilobytes per second) (compare that to 4G wireless, which 14 Mbps, not to mention, you know, wireless) unless you wanted to shell out for ISDN, which was twice the speed and five times the cost. Only 47% of American adults “went online” at all, never mind the two to six hours per day that current internet users are estimated to spend.

And I mean, why would you? There wasn’t that much there. If you wanted to post something online, your first and best option was to pay for web hosting of your own, or mooch off a friend’s. Or you could get a Geocities site, which would be plastered with ads and limited you to such a small amount of storage that you couldn’t have more than a couple dozen low-resolution images at best, or you could post on a message board (which would be essentially mooching off of a friend’s paid web hosting, because most sites that hosted message boards were just some guy who wanted to have a place to chat with his friends that wasn’t a Yahoo! email list), where you might get permission to post three or four images at a time. Music? Rude, takes up too much bandwidth, don’t do that to people. Video? You’re hilarious. (I once left my computer on for a week while I attempted to illegally download a copy of Velvet Goldmine but I finally gave up and got it from the video store instead.)

But still, at the time that was magic, and as more and more stuff found its way online, somebody who held a copyright somewhere (read: music studios and Disney) realized they had to get out in front of things. And into this brave new world came the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, which was passed in 1998 and was already skewing the shape of the internet of the future when it came into effect in 2000.

It did a lot of dumb things but the one we’re concerned about is the “safe harbor” provision, which basically says that in the case of an online copyright infringement, there are three parties: the infringer, the copyright holder, and the internet host, and the host is not a part of the copyright dispute.

Prior to this, if Sony or Disney or whoever found an illegal copy of their intellectual property (read: an mp3 or an avi) online, they’d go after whoever owned the server it lived on. Which made sense! If you find stolen TVs in someone’s basement, you go after the guy who owns the basement, and “I didn’t know my deadbeat brother in law was stealing TVs” is something you’ll have to prove in a court of law.

But internet companies like Geocities and Yahoo! and anyone else who offered random users the chance to post things on the internet using a free account said wait a minute, this doesn’t make sense. Because the internet is not like a physical basement; we have no reason to see someone carrying stolen mp3s down the basement stairs, and the scale is such that we couldn’t see all of them if we tried (unless we banned all mp3s, which means goodbye, MySpace, and goodbye indie bands). You wouldn’t go after a landlord in New York because their tenant in New Jersey is stealing TVs, would you?

So the DMCA said fine, we understand that the internet as it currently exists, and as it is attempting to exist (remember this is still the height of the dot.com boom and people are making money hand over fist by just owning websites), can’t operate if we try to do this. So instead of letting big companies sue big companies over copyright law, we’ll let big companies sue individual humans over copyright violations. That’s much more fair.

Of course most of what resulted wasn’t lawsuits at all; it was individuals getting threatening letters from Sony and Disney promising them that they were planning to sue but if you, Joe User, will just delete the thing you posted from the internet, we’re willing to make this all go away. And people did, because fuck, who’s going to duke it out with Disney?

The DMCA is the reason tumblr exists in the first place (not to mention twitter, and facebook, and essentially the entire part of the internet that isn’t either an ad or a news website). Technically, if tumblr was responsible for copyright violations, they’re already a prime target for a lawsuit, because they’re running ads on a website where people post copyright violations on a daily basis. Adding the opportunity for you to make money off your copyright violations doesn’t make them any more liable than they already are, which is not at all.

So here’s what predict will happen with Post+ at the beginning: absolutely nothing. A few people will monetize gifsets or fanfiction or vids and no one will pay attention and no one will care. But some small creators, people who post original fiction, people who post craft patterns, people who post insightful analysis, will start using it as part of their actual revenue stream. Sooner or later someone will be making enough money that it pings someone’s radar, and sooner or later someone making money will slip up and post something that could plausibly be a copyright violation, and they won’t get sued. They’ll get a takedown notice, a threatening letter from whoever owns the thing they infringed upon (...so Disney), and they’ll pull the thing. But it’s hard to pull things from the internet, much harder than it used to be, and nearly impossible the way tumblr works. So they get another takedown notice. Or Disney’s lawyers go through their blog with a fine-toothed comb and they start getting more and more unreasonable takedown notices, but now they’re scared and fuck, who’s going to duke it out with Disney? So they take their blog down entirely, and now that person is a little bit poorer and Disney is out the cost of four or five stamps and envelopes and the time their lawyer spent fifteen years ago drafting the takedown notice template.

I guarantee you that the people who decided to implement this know that this is going to happen, and they do not care. We’ve reached the “we could make this website work if we could just get rid of fandom” stage, which never ends well for the website but they never seem to learn that. So please, please don’t try to monetize fandom content on the assumption that tumblr is going to be the one to get slapped with a lawsuit for it, that’s just not how it works. It never has been and it never will be.

#tumblr is a website #fandom history #copyright law #psa

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Four

Warnings: explicit language

Word count: 2k

Your alarm forces you out of a deep sleep at eight on the dot. Groaning, you blindly press the snooze button and flip your face into your pillow, not quite ready to deal with a new day. You let yourself doze for a few minutes, longing for the dark pull of sleep to take you back.

Now, you had to be at your class in under an hour and you were stressed. Seeing how much time had passed in your drowsy state allowed a fire to be lit under your butt, encouraging you to quickly jump in the shower and get ready for the day. All the while, all you wanted to do was answer the call of your abandoned bed.

After rushing around your apartment, you finally stepped out in some light brown corduroys and an embroidered blouse tucked into the waist. A light jacket thrown over top, you felt put together enough to start your day. Even with the rush, you managed to grab a couple of your million muffins from your baking spree yesterday and a to-go mug of coffee. You learned your mistake yesterday, when you showed up to morning classes without caffeine to push you through.

Walking across campus, you watch other students scurry off to their own morning classes. It still being the first week of the semester, most people hadn’t lost the motivation to go to their early classes just yet. You really hope that you won’t fall victim to that… you can’t afford to skip in a class you struggle with.

Once you arrive at your classroom, you head to the same spot you sat last class, and plop your bag down as you get your muffin out to eat before class. Setting it out, you sip your coffee and scroll though your phone, checking your inbox that had accumulated honestly way too many emails overnight.

Your eyes glued to your phone, you don’t even notice when a large hand swipes the muffin right off your desk.

Still absorbed in an email about volunteering for a local animal shelter, you hear someone sit loudly in the seat behind you. Ignoring it, you continue to read though the details of the email --- it looked like the animal shelter for your city, Autumn Leaves Adoption Center, was accepting new volunteers and was looking for students from your university specifically. You had always had a huge soft spot for animals, so you were excited at a chance to spend time helping out.

You glance up from your phone when you finish, and immediately notice your muffin missing from it’s spot on your desk. Bewildered, you begin to search around the classroom with your eyes to locate the stolen baked good. Not finding it with anyone on your sides or in front of you, you swing around to check out the suspects hiding from view.

Ding ding ding!

You found it. Well, you found half of it. The attractive boy that had pestered you yesterday had the other half of your precious muffin stuffed in his cheeks like some sort of squirrel. Caught, he gives the best grin he can with his mouth full, including his eyes crinkling and his eyes shining with mischief.

“Excuse me, you can’t just steal people’s breakfasts right off their desks! Who raised you?!” you whisper yelled. You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks from being flustered, and hoped he couldn’t see.

“Wuh yahr warn ehten et,” he replied, cheeks still full.

“Ugh, at least swallow first you animal!”

“Well, you weren’t eating it,” he flashes a grin.

“Um, excuse me sir, who allowed you to go around stealing people’s food the second you deem them to be not interested in it,” you snapped.

“Oohhh, can you say that again?” As he spoke, he raised an eyebrow while his eyes traveled up your body.

“Say what?” Your flat tone gave away your high level of irritation at him.

“Call me sir again, sweetheart. I think you and I both liked it,” he leaned forward as he spoke. His gaze was challenging, almost to see if you were able to handle him.

The truth is, if this asshole hadn’t just stolen your goddamn muffin you’d be happy to do so --- outside of the classroom --- anytime. The guy, you remember being named Taehyung, had gorgeous dark curls that anyone would dream about pulling on. His dark eyes were enigmatic, and by every definition intense. Tanned skin, clear and smooth only made him seem more ethereal. HIs natural looks, coupled with an artistic and sophisticated fashion sense, made him look like a character of a k-drama.

But, this guy had some audacity if you’ve ever seen any. So, you weren’t going to give into his charm as easily as he wanted.

Slowly, you lean forward on his desk, allowing him to get a good view of your tits while you lift a hand to his mouth, to swipe away excess crumbs that had been forgotten during his cookie monster moment. You lightly trace his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, pushing down just hard enough for the flesh to ripple.

His eyes become more hooded, obviously thinking he had won you over with his charms.

“Why would I call someone sir, if they need to clean up after like a child, hmm?” You dropped your voice as you spoke, not only trying to limit prying ears but also to give yourself a more sultry sound.

You lean back and retract your arm. But instead of letting it drop, you raise the hand you had reached out to him to your face, and pop your thumb into your mouth. While your lips are still encircling your thumb, you let your eyes meet his.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to look as affected as he does. His eyes are narrow, surely from your jibe. However, you see that he seems to be breathing a little heavier than before, and that his hands were gripping the edges of his desk with more force than would be considered normal. This makes the veins and tendons pop on his already large and beautiful hands and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on them for a little.

“Mmm, I did a good job with these muffins, I can tell even with just crumbs,” you say after popping your thumb out of your mouth.

Catching you off guard, a cheery voice asks from over your turned around shoulder, “Oooo, are you sharing muffins? I love muffins!”

You turn around in your seat quickly in response. “Oh, uh, yeah.” You bend over and grab the other muffin you brought with you, thinking you’d eat it as a snack later in the day. Oh well.

You hand the muffin over, and quickly realize this is the same guy that sat in front of you yesterday, the cute one with the even cuter smile.

“Yay! Thank you so much! You’re my new favorite person!” he declared. He was giving you a smile even bigger than the one that you had swooned over prior, and really looked like the embodiment of sunshine. “My name is Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi.”

“I’m y/n! And don’t worry about the muffin, I have about a million back at home. I went on a bit of a baking spree yesterday,” you giggled.

You hear a surprised scoff come from behind you. Apparently, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome is unhappy with the heat you gave him, now knowing that not only did you have much more at home, but had another with you. And you gave it away. You can’t help but let out a small smile at his indignation.

“It’s nice to meet you y/n! I hope I’ll get to have more of your treats in the future, this is delicious!” Hoseok says, already taking a bite.

You give him a wide smile in return. “If you want, I can save you one of whatever I make. I love to bake new things all the time.”

Hoseok begins to reply, but is cut off by the professor starting class. His eyes widen a little, surprised at the intrusion, but quickly sends you an apologetic smile as he turns around to face the lecturer.

Prepared for social hour to be over, because frankly, this was way too much for you at 9 am, you pulled out your notes. As you straighten up, you feel a presence behind your ear. Being this close, you could smell a musky, dark, masculine scent wash over you.

“I hope you save some for me too, sweetheart. I’m a growing boy,” Taehyung huskily murmurs, quiet enough to be missed by anyone else.

Cheeks hot at the double meaning of his words, all you manage to get out was a flat, “No promises.” Hoping to appear unaffected by him, you go right back to paying attention to your professor. Hoseok, in front of you, was oblivious to your and Taehyung’s hushed conversation and was busy scribbling away in his notes. You take a deep breath, and follow suit.

Unfortunately, calculus is as hard as you remember. As the professor lectured, you could feel whatever understanding you had previously drift away. You write notes at a furious pace, in hopes that whatever you copy down you’ll understand at a later time.

You sigh after your professor dismisses class. You are feeling frustrated that even during the first week, you seem to be slipping behind in your understanding of the class material.

“Hey are you okay? Class was a lot today, huh.” Hoseok turned around in his chair to speak, seeming to have caught your pitiful sigh. You glace up to meet his eyes, your expression slightly sheepish.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just not very good at calculus,” you admit with a small smile.

He gives you a sunny smile in return. “Do you wanna study together? I actually like math. I know, I’m strange for that.”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. He barely knows you but is offering to help you with the subject you struggle with the most. It was a no-brainer.

“Oh my gosh, yes! I’d love to have a study partner for this class. I’m so worried about falling behind.” You feel your face fall into a small pout at your confession.

“Can I join? I’m not too great at math either.” You jump a little, completely forgetting about the human pain in the ass behind you.

“Of course! The more the merrier!” Hoseok beams, looking past you to the boy behind. “I’m Hoseok, but everyone just calls me Hobi.”

“I’m Taehyung, nice to meet you.” He gives Hoseok a grin as he introduces himself, seemingly never not up to trouble.

“You too! Do you guys want to meet tomorrow? We can go to the coffee shop around the corner from here,” Hoseok suggests.

You nod, and Taehyung gives a noise of agreement behind you, before asking, “Do you guys want to trade numbers? That way we don’t have to wait to see each other to get help.”

Internally, you sigh, having a feeling he was going to use your number for more than just that. Regardless, you comply. The three of you swap your phones, inputting your contact information, and stand to exit the classroom as a new stream of students enter waiting for the next class to start.

“Bye guys! See you tomorrow!” Hoseok flashes his signature sunny smile as you depart.

“Bye Hobi!” You smile at him in response. Taehyung gives his own goodbye to the boy.

After Hoseok heads off a different direction, Taehyung leans closer to you to give you your own farewell. “Goodbye y/n, see you tomorrow sweetheart,” he basically purrs at you.

You give him a glare in response. “Bye, Taehyung.” After, you swiftly make your exit. That boy was a handful, to say the least. But, as much as you hate to admit it, he was hot. Like really hot. While Hoseok had that ‘boy next door’ quality, Taehyung oozed sex appeal. You were really going to have to train yourself to act normal around those two, if you were going to be spending extended time alone with them. Heading to your next class, you decide that is a problem for later.

#BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #fanfic

[greatbigbellies]

Another continuation of THESE TWO stories. In part three, Leo finds himself even MORE pregnant than last time. Will he still fit in his living room? Find out! Contains allusions to sex, (basically) rapid preg, hyperpregnancy, weight gain, and belly worship. Enjoy!

Leo looked himself over in his full length mirror, in awe at just how much his body had changed over the last two and a half years. It had been about six months since he had successfully delivered he and Marko’s 50 beautiful kids, and as much as his body had recovered, it had also changed as well. His chest was noticeably larger, but even more so was his hips, widened by his extraordinary pregnancy. Some of the pregnancy weight had stuck too, giving him much thicker thighs and a squishier booty. Overall, he was significantly more pear shaped than when he’d started, and overall, he was okay with that. Marko certainly didn’t mind…

Leo smirked. “I can feel you staring,” he said, able to sense when Marko was ogling him. Marko stepped through te door with a playful sigh, “I still don’t know how you do that. I didn’t make a sound!” he said, stepping up next to Leo, pulling him in by his waist. Marko kissed the top of Leo’s head, causing Leo to smooch him on the cheek, in turn. “What’s going through your mind hon? You’ve been checking yourself out in the mirror for almost ten minutes now,” asked Marko. Leo sighed, “I dunno babe… I’m just… is it weird that I really, REALLY miss being pregnant?” he asked.

Marko shook his head, placing a hand on Leo’s flat, empty tummy. “You carried those little guys for two years, you kinda got used to it…” he smiled, “Besides, we both really enjoyed ourselves with it...” Their gazes met in a loving, slightly charged eye contact, and Leo began picking up on the signals Marko was sending. “Would you… be up for doing it again?” Marko finally asked. Leo’s mouth curled into a mischievous grin, “Only if we can go bigger this time?” he asked. Now it was Marko’s turn to smile, “Like… time and a half?” he asked. Leo shook his head, “Bigger,” “...double?” “A LOT bigger,” Markos eyes went wide. 

“Babe you were full of 50 last time, how much bigger do you want to go!?” asked Marko incredulously. “Why don’t we set ourselves up with fertility treatments, and see where life takes us? Numbers and quotas aren’t sexy, chance is sexy,” Marko’s breath grew a little shaky, “Are you sure you can handle going bigger this time?” Leo smiled, “I’m excited to push my boundaries!” he replied.

Marko pulled him in for a deep kiss, “Your ambition is also sexy,” he whispered. Leo stood on his tiptoes and whispered back into Marko’s ear, “Then what say you we get to work tonight?” he offered. Marko scooped him up in his strong arms, carrying him bride style and turning toward their bed, “I thought you’d never ask!”

And get to work they did. Frequent trips to the local fertility clinic and regular “sessions” in bed quickly showed that Leo’s ability to conceive mid-pregnancy had not waned, but actually increased, much to the surprise of medical experts everywhere. As the two experimented, hey found that Leo was growing SO pregnant that one could actually see him slowly grow larger by the second after the couple had fooled around, a fact Leo would take some time to adjust to…

2 months later

“Are you sure you don’t want to just… email the guy?” asked Marko, a little worriedly, in the drivers seat of the couple’s van. “I want to at least attend ONE class in person, even if I’m too big for the desks!” replied Leo from the passengers seat, squeezed between the back of the chair and the glove compartment. His belly, while still in the first trimester, had ballooned to look quintuplet heavy, and that was a conservative estimate. In order to maintain some modesty at his size, he wore a sleek, black, belly support belt, which covered his underbelly. Over that were dress slacks, which paired well with his maternity button-up dress shirt. The shirt only BARELY reached to the hem of the support belt, but overall, he looked sharp, and it was clear an attempt was made.

“I know you want to take some classes and eventually earn a degree, but… aren’t you making it a little hard for yourself like this?” asked Marko. Leo shook his head, “Naw hon, it’s all part of my master plan. See, I waddle in like THIS,” he gave his belly a hearty pat, “and gain instant sympathy, then I tell the instructor I’m growing too large to get around, and he’ll switch me to his online course, AND grade everything I do with a curve! Because clearly the tired, hugely pregnant guy is doing his best!” Leo grinned a troublesome grin, “meanwhile I’m stuffing my face, getting foot rubs, and half-assing all of my assignments for easy college credits!” Marko shook his head, a little exasperated. “You’re such a little slytherin,” he said, getting out of the car.

He circled around and opened the door for Leo, helping him get to his feet. He gave him a little smooch on the head for luck, “You don’t think our little escapade before you got dressed for this is going to be a problem, do you?” he asked. Leo shrugged, “more belly, more sympathy,” he replied with a little smirk, before turning to waddle away. Marko turned on his heel, and shifted back into the divers seat. He wondered if Leo could make it through the whole class. “He’s grown to love the attention though,” he said to himself, “So maybe he’ll be okay…”

Leo DID love the attention. Compared to his outing at the mall so very long ago, the pregnant man had come to revel in the stares he received. Sure, some were stares of confusion, but more so there were stares of admiration, and curiosity. In some rarer cases, he even noticed a couple stares of jealousy, and a little lust. Leo knew full well that Marko wasn’t the only person into sizable midriffs, he just wasn’t expecting to see so many others. And he could certainly tell who was who in this case. The stolen glances and subdued blushes were all the proof he needed.

When he reached the classroom and stepped through the door, his sizable belly entered before the rest of him, and immediately he was the center of attention. The space was set up like a theatre, with rows of seats lined up, bolted to the floor, with little folding desks built into the arm rests. Cautiously, Leo made his way down the shallow steps toward a middle row, his tummy blocking his view of his feet, making each step a little more treacherous than he liked. He squeezed into a spot toward the right side of the room, close to the door so he could leave easily.

Leo’s wide hips and ass meant he filled the WHOLE seat, with a little overflow, and the front of his tummy brushed against the back of the seat in front of him. He was really starting to feel his size. The other students were clearly trying to be polite, but it wasn’t a secret they were all eyeing him, all secretly wondering if he’d go into labor right then and there. If only they knew… thought Leo with a smirk. 

He tried unfolding the desk to write on, but… his oversized belly just got in the way. He tried everything short of brute force to try to get it to unfold for use, but alas, he took up too much space. He shrugged, and grabbed his notebook from his bag, resigned to use his belly shelf as a table. That was when he felt something shift deep within his body. “Oh no,” he whispered.

He’d started growing again. Marko had been right.

Leo realized that maybe sex right before class wasn’t such a great idea, but it was too late now. Leo felt his button up shirt grow increasingly tight, and the stitches on his slacks and belly belt strain as his body stretched for new occupants. He fought against the friction of is own thighs against the arm rests as he tried to get up, the slowly increasing weight of his belly not doing him any favors. He felt something rip, and jerked up rapidly in response, which just caused a button on his shirt to pop off. PING! It bounced off of the whiteboard, and Leo felt a blush of embarrassment roll across his face.

Everyone was actively staring now, and Leo needed to vacate, quickly. Turning with a wide breadth, he started waddling back up the steps. PING! Another button popped off as his belly belt rode down, exposing more of his bare, pale tummy. He threw his notebook back in his bag and dug for his phone, needing to get ahold of Marko. He could feel his pregnant belly slowly stretch itself bigger, and for the first time, Leo wondered if they overdid it on the fertility drugs.

He burst through the door with surprising speed for a man in his condition, and finally found his cell. Speed dialing Marko, he heard his belly belt pop a little with each step, the elastic failing as he continued to grow. “C’mon, c’mon, pick up!” he pleaded. Leo felt his belly start to widen out, and realized that his belly belt was just growing too tight to be safe. Taking a deep breath, he yanked the belt down, causing his huge and heavy tummy to flop downward form the lack of support.

“Hello? Is everything okay?” Marko finally picked up. “No! This was a mistake! I started growing in class and I’m too big for everything now! Come pick me up!” Leo hissed into the receiver, trying not to make any more of a scene. “Alright, just, go to where I dropped you off, I’ll be right there!�� Leo hung up and began waddling toward the exit, his tummy swaying a little more with each heavy step. He could feel his weight increasing as he moved, and swore his midriff wasn’t the only thing swelling up.

He left the college building just in time to watch Marko pull up, getting out to open the car door for his poor husband. Marko’s eyes grew wide when he saw how much Leo had grown in such a short span of time. He ran to meet him halfway and help Leo back to the van. Right as Leo sat down fully, he felt his slacks split open at the seams on the side, letting out a resounding RRRRRIIIP! As his thighs became exposed. Marko quickly shut the door to preserve any privacy Leo still had, and scurried back to the drivers side, hopping in and driving away. 

Leo’s hands covered his face as his cheeks burned with a vibrant blush. He couldn’t believe he’d let that happen. “Are… you okay hon?” asked Marko. Leo nodded, his hands not leaving his face. “Yeah… I’m just going to switch to online classes and never show my face there again. It’s fine,” he whimpered. Marko felt bad for him, that had to be embarrassing. “Would… some ice cream make you feel better?” he offered. Leo slid his hands down, giving Marko the cutest look. “A gallon of sherbet would be nice…” he replied. Marko smirked, “...and some tummy rubs while you eat it?” he sweetened the deal. 

“Mhmmm…” “...and… maybe a little more than just a tummy rub?” Marko offered. Leo smiled for the first time since he got in the car. “You know that’s what got us into this mess,” said Leo. “I know… but we’re out of this mess, and you said it yourself, you’re going to switch to online right away. What’s the harm?” Leo, without breaking eye contact, firmly gripped the sides of his shirt, and pulled them apart, popping the rest of the buttons. “You just wanna get your hands on this tummy, don’t’cha?” he teased. Marko turned bright red, and sped up the car. He had ice cream to get.

5 months later

“You think it was a bit much to rent out an entire theatre for just us?” asked Leo, his massive, gravid form slowly squeezing through the double doors. “Not at all, we’re sneaking in 95 extra people, I’d say we’re getting our money’s worth!” joked Marko, helping Leo navigate the tight confines of the wide movie theatre halls. Leo’s belly, now the size of a small car, was supported by a makeshift frame with rotatable wheels, with a soft pillowy top to make it more comfortable. It creaked under the massive weight of Leo’s pregnant belly, which audibly sloshed with amniotic fluid. Thankfully, the ramp down to the center seats was wide, though Leo could still feel the walls brush against the sides of his tummy.

“Alright, gonna turn you left now,” warned Marko as he walked to the side of Leo’s belly, squeezing between it and the wall. With more grunting than he was proud of, he turned Leo 90 degrees to the side, meaning he could now move forward down to their spot, smack in the center of the empty theatre, the perfect view. “I’m not TOO pregnant, am I?” asked Leo, seeing how out of breath Marko was after the effort. “Nonsense -HUFF- honey, in fact, I intend to make you -HUFF- even more so tonight!” he teased in response.

Leo’s footfalls were slow, but heavy, as his gravid body had swelled pretty much everywhere but his face. His ass and hips were wide enough for two seats, and his breasts had expanded considerably in order to ramp up milk production for later. Really, even with his mammoth midriff, he was still a sight to behold. After what felt like ages, they had finally reached the center-most seats. Leo noticed an extra wide one had been installed at a 90 degree angle, allowing him to sit comfortably and watch the film without being blocked by his belly.

“How did you pull this off?” Asked Leo. Marko winked. “I have my ways,” he answered. Leo slowly lowered himself into the seat, the soft cushions feeling good on his aching, pregnant body. He sighed in relief, happy to get off of his feet, and just reveled in being pampered by his husband to the point of theatre remodeling. He felt special. “This whole experience would really go well with some carmel corn… OH or some red vines!” Leo began feeling the pangs of pregnancy cravings. 

Marko’s proud smile grew into a smug grin as he slid past Leo’s gargantuan belly, shuffling around in some bags. “What’s you doing hon?” asked Leo. Marko quickly made his way back to a place Leo could reach, before handing him a bag of caramel corn, and a drum of red vines. “I had a feeling you would want these,” Leo took the candy and gestured for Marko to lean forward, which he did, before placing a playful little peck of a kiss on his nose. “You’re adorable. Now sit down, the lights are dimming!

Marko took his seat next to his massive husband, a hand idly resting on the pregnant belly as the lights went out and the film began, kicking off a lovely evening.

8 months later

Leo was glad they had such an open floor plan in their house. Not only did it add a lot of brightness to the space, but it gave him a place within the house where he could FIT. Now carrying somewhere in the neighborhood of 270 to 300 babies, the doctors aren’t sure on specifics, his astoundingly large belly had the volume of a city bus, though retained a vaguely orbular shape. He’d been immobile for a while now, though aside from some cabin fever, Marko was able to provide everything he needed to be happy. Marko was now a stellar cook, and was great at getting what Leo wanted before the man even had to ask for it.

Right now though, Marko was relaxing, playing on his switch and lounging, where else, but atop Leo’s gigantic belly. At this point the widened apex of tummy skin was less of a shelf and more of a mattress, and the large curve of skin was so warm and inviting to Marko. He’d seen every inch of this belly countless times, but he as still amazed at it. Marko’s nightly cocoa butter rubs had been doing their job, as Leo didn’t have a single stretchmark on his person, even when carrying around 300 babies.

“How’s you town coming?” asked Leo, resting on the couch. His butt took up two cushions, and was now wide enough that it would impede passage through doorways if his tummy didn’t do that already. “Really good! I just got Audie to move in! And my garden looks so cute!” Leo pursed his lips in thought, “Which one is Audie? Is she the fox one?” he asked. “I mean… she’s ‘supposed’ to be a wolf but she looks like a fox…” replied Marko. He gently sat up, scooting to the left broadside of Leo’s tummy, and sliding down, nintendo switch in hand. He landed with a solid THUNK and walked over to Leo’s side. “You know that’s got to be hell on your knees,” advised Leo. Marko shrugged, “You’re not wrong, but like… it’s so fun to do that,”

Leo jokingly rolled his eyes and looked at the handheld screen, taking in Marko’s painstakingly curated garden. “Are those… trans pride colors?” asked Leo, pointing to a strip of blue, pink, and white along the right side of the flower beds. Marko grinned. “Yeah, that section is for you! And if you count, I have 52 total flowers in place, two for us, and 50 for the kids!” The pair smiled warmly. “You’re going to need a MUCH bigger garden here in about a week…” said Leo, his hands resting on his massive boobs, pushed to the sides by his even more massive tummy.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve already started stockpiling more...” Marko trailed off. “Something on your mind, honey?” asked Leo. Marko shook his head slowly, before changing his tune. “I’m just… really, REALLY, going to miss this tummy of yours. And I’m trying to think of how to make the most of these last few days without seeming too needy, y’know?” he explained. Leo sighed and smiled. “Honey you’re NOT needy for wanting some extra tummy time before I pop. If anything I’M the needy one in this relationship. You do all the work! I just sit here and gestate!” Marko blushed. “I mean yeah but being pregnant is work in and of itself, especially THIS pregnant! Like I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Leo placed a hand on Marko’s shoulder. He would have used both hands, but he couldn’t reach past his own chest. 

“Marko. My love. You have my full, complete, and enthusiastic permission do to whatever you would like to with my belly, for the next seven days. Whether is be painting again, massaging, dressing up, touching, lotioning… whatever. Go absolutely nuts babe. Consider it a gift for taking such good care of me!” said Leo. Marko’s eyes glittered and cheeks flushed bright red at the possibilities. He giddily bounced in place, “Are you sure?! You can rescind that offer at any point, it’s okay!” Marko said in a fast, excited tempo. Leo nodded. “I know, but I don’t plan to. This is your week babe, starting right now!”

The first thing Marko did was plant a firm, deep kiss onto Leo’s lips, which Leo leaned into passionately in turn. “You’re the best babe!” Marko said, bolting around to the front of Leo’s gargantuan belly. “What are you doing?” laughed Leo, having to shout so his voice would carry to the far end of his tum. “This!” Marko pressed his whole body into Leo’s belly, his hand working its way to his popped navel. He began rubbing tiny circles around it, occasionally stopping to poke it. Leo was sensitive there, and Marko knew it.

At the same time, he began planting kisses of increasing duration over Leo’s taught skin, which riled up some movement from inside. “Oohhh, they seem to like that…” said Leo. “do you?” asked Marko. Leo paused, “...Yeah,” Marko began alternating between kissing and licking Leo’s distended, hyperpregnant midriff, eliciting groans and coos of pleasure from Leo. Marko then did something he never had before, and left a delightful little hickey on the aft of Leo’s tummy. He stopped, waiting for a response. A few long seconds passed before Leo asked “did you just… give me a hickey?” Marko blushed so hard you could hear it in his voice. “Maybe… I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to. I know you pride yourself on your blemishless tumm-” “Do it again,”

Now Marko paused. “You sure? Cause I’m gonna get really into it…” “That felt like nothing I’ve ever had before. Please do it again,” Leo responded. Marko didn’t hesitate to fulfill his request, and left three more in semi-rapid succession, before retuning to kissing and affectionately worshipping the belly. It was going to be a good week for Marko.

#commissions #writing #not bellies #anonymous

[aethersea]

May I request 41 - First Kiss and 94 - Hair Brushing/Braiding for the Leverage OT3, please? (Also extra bonus points if you give Eliot beads in his hair like in The Ice Man Job, because we didn't get NEARLY enough of that in the show) Thank you!

I cannot believe I wrote this whole thing out and then never published it. I’m so sorry, it’s been at least twenty-four years since you sent in this ask, please accept my humble apologies and also this ficlet.

However, this prompt is just pure fluff, and I hate to tell you this but I am not a fluff writer. I just can’t pull off that unadulterated sweetness. I am in this fandom for the shenanigans, first, last and foremost! So this fic is now a 5+1 of Eliot and Parker trying to seduce Hardison.

1. Parker thinks they need to give him gifts, so she goes through her stash and picks out the largest, fanciest jewel she’s ever stolen. Then she realizes: Hardison likes stories. He spends hours giving their aliases histories and pets and allergies and favorite foods, he can get a whole sordid history of jealousy and betrayal from a single corporate email chain, and Parker knows for a cold fact that he writes little stories with his online friends about being wizards together.

She goes through her stash again and picks out the most cursed thing she’s ever stolen.

It’s a jeweled statuette, almost as tall as her forearm, made of gold and studded with precious and semi-precious stones. Mysterious deaths have befallen five separate owners of this thing. Its base is dented from the time it was used to bludgeon Owner Number Three to death. The tiny rubies it has for eyes follow you across the room.

Parker puts a bow on it and leaves it in Hardison’s room while he’s sleeping. He wakes up to this horrible little statue watching him from his bedside table.

He texts the group chat, Hey did anyone put an evil little gold guy in my bedroom last night? But Parker chickens out and says nothing (drunkenly betting Eliot that she can seduce Hardison is one thing, but admitting that she likes him is something else altogether). Everyone else texts back variations on “nope.” (Except Sophie, who just sends back a string of heart eyes emojis and a wikipedia link. She loves cursed artifacts.) So Hardison puts the statue away in a closet somewhere and figures he’ll deal with it later.

Parker is mildly offended that he put her gift in a closet. She goes into his room the next night and puts it back on the bedside table, where it clearly belongs.

This goes on for a week. Hardison puts the statue in a desk drawer, then in one of the cabinets in the office downstairs, then in the dumpster down the street. Every day he wakes up to those glittering red eyes watching him sleep. He’s asked his internet buddies if anyone knows a good exorcist. Hardison doesn’t really believe in curses, but also? What the fuck. What the fuck.

~

2. Eliot assumes the drunken bet will be forgotten by morning. What kind of world would it be if people always followed through on promises they made while they could barely stay vertical? So he spends the morning nursing his hangover and cleaning his knives. Cleaning guns is no good while hungover—all the snaps and clicks of popping things in and out of place sound like actual gunfire when you’re hungover, it’s a nightmare—but knives are quiet and have no moving parts. Buffing and polishing them is soothingly repetitive work, and every once in a while he can throw one at one of the dartboards on the walls and reassure himself that his reflexes are still sound even after that much tequila.

It’s only when he gets Hardison’s text about the golden statuette that magically appeared in his room overnight that Eliot realizes Parker’s actually going for it. After some internal debate about whether he’s going to stoop to this or not, Eliot decides what the hell and starts making plans.

Eliot agrees that gifts are the way to go, but not stolen gifts. Not things. Anyone can give a thing. Proper wooing is about giving experiences.

Eliot plans for three days. On the fourth day, he and Hardison have their irregularly scheduled monthly coffee date, and Eliot texts him beforehand to say he wants to do it at the brewpub this time. Hardison arrives to find a deceptively simple meal: basic country fare perfected through years of experimentation, made with the best ingredients Eliot can get his hands on. And Eliot, after all, is still a retrieval specialist. There’s very little in the world he can’t get his hands on.

And yet the night ends and somehow he has not gotten his hands on Hardison.

This is just not right. Eliot knows how to deploy a smolder, okay, Tangled reference aside he is damn good at flirting and he knows the looks he’s giving Hardison are clear as day. It’d be one thing if Hardison had turned him down, or if he’d been uneasily unwilling, or even if his eyes had widened slightly in suppressed panic and he’d abruptly found a reason to leave. Eliot can take rejection, bet or no, and he’d have bowed out graciously without a fuss. But this was much, much worse.

Hardison didn’t even notice he was flirting.

He’s going to have to up his game.

~

3. “How do you seduce people?” Parker asks bluntly, turning up at Sophie’s door just past midnight.

Sophie, despite the hour, is utterly delighted by the question.

This goes as well as you would expect.

~

4. Eliot’s taken a lot of dates to sports games. Hardison may prefer sparkly elves with purple lightning magic to a decent MMA fight, but baseball is the American pastime. Eliot gets them perfect seats, hot dogs from the best vendor in the stadium, even chilled beer that he smuggles in without letting it get warm. It’s going to be a perfect game.

And it is. At first. Hardison, it turns out, has a lot of opinions about baseball. What he does not have is an understanding of the rules. They’re not even into the second inning by the time Eliot finally snaps and starts arguing with him about it.

They make it all the way to the fifth inning before Eliot realizes that Hardison’s basing his complaints off the rules of a game from a Star Wars novel.

They’re at the bottom of the eighth before Eliot will speak to him again.

~

5. Eliot and Parker are drunk again. This is not intentional. They didn’t even mean to come to this bar, but the smoothie place with the fried oreos that Eliot had brought Parker here to try was playing such incredibly bad music that they’d ordered the oreos to go and fled. The bar was just the coziest looking place on the block, and of course they’d ordered drinks to avoid being rude––Eliot had entertained himself for a few minutes scouring the menu for something that would pair well with fried oreos and popcorn chicken.

And now they’re drunk. The conversation has, perhaps inevitably, turned to the ongoing bet.

“I tried everything!” Parker wails. “I laughed at every joke, I touched my hair constantly, I got him talking about things he likes.” She thunks her forehead on the bar. “All that happened is now I know the complete history of orcs in western literature.”

“Hardison wouldn’t know flirting if it pinched him on the ass,” Eliot grumbles.

Parker slaps his arm. “No pinching Hardison!”

“I’m not going to—I don’t pinch people!”

Parker’s ignoring him. Eliot pouts and takes another sip of his drink. He’s not entirely sure what this one is––it’s blue and kind of fizzy, that’s all he can say for sure. Parker took over the drinks menu several glasses ago, and she’s been picking them based on what has the most fun name to say. Eliot’s pretty sure the alcohol content’s been doubling with each order.

“Eliot,” Parker slurs, “we need to work together.”

“What?”

Parker lifts her head from the bar and frowns at him, the way she does when she’s figured out the obvious solution and is just waiting for everyone else to get on the same page. It’s adorable. It’s always adorable, but right now her eyes are wide and slightly unfocused from the alcohol and she’s listing sideways a little, almost as if she’s unbalanced, and it is the most adorable thing Eliot has ever seen. Parker’s never unbalanced, but some part of Eliot’s fuzzy brain thinks she’s about to fall on top of him and cannot wait to catch her.

“You can’t seduce Hardison,” Parker points out. Eliot is drunk enough to get offended by this, but too drunk to get out a complaint before she continues, “I can’t seduce Hardison. But if we work together, the two of us can definitely seduce Hardison. Together.”

Eliot stares at her. Then he takes another sip of his fizzy blue drink. Later, when questioned, he will blame his next words on that drink.

“Worth a shot.”

They take Hardison to a movie. They research for three weeks beforehand. They find the best movie theater in town, with the nicest seats, the biggest screens, and concession snacks that Hardison likes, and they buy tickets for the midnight premiere of the superhero movie that Hardison hasn’t shut up about for the past month. Parker even hacks into the theater’s computers in a last-minute fit of nerves and cross-references the credit cards with drivers’ licenses to make sure the people sitting in front of them won’t be too tall.

Parker witnesses a kidnapping in the parking lot while the boys are getting popcorn. They don’t even stay long enough to catch the commercials.

~

+ 1. “Hey Eliot,” Hardison says during movie night, a little over a week later. “Remember the Ice Man Job?”

Eliot groans. “I try not to.”

Hardison throws a piece of popcorn at his face. “Shut up. Remember how you did your hair for that one? With the little—those little beads on, like, a braid?”

Eliot shoots Hardison a suspicious glance. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Teach me how to do that.”

Eliot shoots Hardison another, more deliberate look, this one pointedly directed at Hardison’s complete lack of braidable locks.

Hardison rolls his eyes as if that’s a silly detail to get hung up on and leans forward to dig around in one of the boxes he has under his coffee table. He emerges with a ziplock bag of plastic beads in no time flat and hands it triumphantly to Eliot. Then he yanks a few cushions out from behind Parker, who’s sitting on his other side, and puts them on the floor in front of him. “Sit here?” he asks Parker, patting the cushion pile.

Parker takes a moment to consider being offended at having her cushions stolen, but curiosity gets the better of her and she just plops down between Hardison’s legs, grabbing the bowl of popcorn as she goes, and waits.

Hardison lifts her hair with sudden gentleness, drawing it over her shoulders and letting it fall down her back in a golden wave. His fingers brush against her neck. Parker shivers. Eliot is distantly aware that he’s gone perfectly still, focused with a hunter’s intensity on Hardison’s dark, graceful fingers carding through Parker’s hair.

Hardison leans back, hands on his knees, and Eliot breathes again. “Well?” Hardison looks over at Eliot, a tiny smirk of challenge on his lips. “Show me how it’s done.”

Eliot is suddenly, brutally aware of how close they are. Hardison’s couch is obscenely comfortable, which is half the reason movie nights are at Hardison’s in the first place, but it is not large. Their thighs are touching. Hardison leans away, to give Eliot access to Parker’s hair, and he’s still so close that Eliot would barely have to reach out a hand to—

Eliot ruthlessly shoves that thought down into the dark where it belongs. He dealt with this, he dealt with this years ago, and accepting Parker’s stupid bet doesn’t mean he’s forgotten the way Hardison and Parker look at each other. It just means he doesn’t mind losing for a good cause.

So he keeps his tone steady and his fingers brisk as he shows Hardison how to braid the clunky plastic beads into Parker’s hair, and if he flushes with heat when their hands brush each other, well, nobody has to know. He’s been trained to withstand eight different schools of torture. It won’t show on his face. His voice never once falters.

Parker has had no such training. Her lips have parted, and her breathing is shallow. She’s staring glassy-eyed at the TV. Hardison can’t see her face, sitting behind her, but Eliot watches her carefully, worried that they need to call this off. Parker’s not used to intimacy, to closeness that means something, and for all the three of them have spent half their movie nights literally on top of each other, this is something else. This has weight.

Eliot puts a hand on her shoulder, pressing down just enough that Parker startles and cants a glance over at him. Eliot raises his eyebrows in question, and Parker glares back: don’t you fucking dare. Eliot backs off. Hardison, frowning in concentration as he threads a wisp of Parker’s hair through a green bead, graciously pretends he didn’t see the exchange.

Hardison gets the hang of the beading fairly quickly, and Eliot shows him a few different techniques. He’s almost managed to convince himself that nothing is actually happening when Hardison says, conversationally, “You two are really bad at this.”

Eliot glowers his confusion. “At movie night? You started this, if you wanted to actually watch Alien then you shouldn’t have—”

Hardison’s smile is soft, but Eliot decides for his own safety to focus on the laughter at its edge. “No, at this.” And then he slides his hand onto Parker’s neck, caresses her cheek, and isn’t the slightest bit surprised when she gasps.

Parker whips around, and there’s hurt on her face but it dies in the glow of Hardison’s gentle, unteasing smile. Hardison pulls her up with the lightest of touches, and she goes, eyes fixed on his like salvation.

They kiss sweet and slow, and Eliot’s heart twists in his chest and he can’t breathe. He needs to leave now before he shatters in half, but if he moves then they will look at him, and he would rather never breathe again than meet their eyes right now.

Hardison breaks off the kiss, gazing at Parker with something just this side of wonder, and then he does look at Eliot. Eliot flinches. He opens his mouth to…say something, make some joke or hasty excuse and scramble out the door, but Hardison raises a hand to Eliot’s face, slides his long fingers to cup Eliot’s neck, and pulls him forward, as gently as he did Parker.

It’s a chaste kiss, no more than a soft press of lips, because Eliot is too stunned to respond and Hardison doesn’t push. It lasts a long time. A whole era of change happens in the span of that kiss, as everything Eliot thought he knew tears out of place and then settles, gingerly, into a new understanding.

Hardison pulls away, his hand still warm on the back of Eliot’s neck. His smile is pure sunshine. Eliot finds himself smiling back, helpless.

Hardison’s grin turns smug. “And that,” he says, looking between Eliot and Parker, “is how you do it. Y’all are disasters, honestly, I can’t believe two master criminals working together couldn’t manage a single real date—”

Eliot heaves a deep sigh and drags Hardison into a headlock, pinning his arms when he flails. Parker surges to her knees and starts tickling him mercilessly.

They don’t finish the movie.

#finx writes #I didn't quite get Eliot's hair in there but I hope this works anyway #leverage #leverage fic #leverage ot3

[dimpled-gukkie]

Call Me A Thief

a/n: Happy birthday Shay @today-we-will-survive​ !!!!! I can’t believe we’ve only celebrated two birthdays of yours thus far. It feels like we’ve been friends forever. Once again I’m going to say that I’m so thankful you’re my friend and thank you for being my rock and sometimes the only person I can talk to. I hope we can celebrate many more years together and that this is your best year yet! Love you - your ghost bestie/ whatever that really long one I never remember is 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader / Kim Taehyung x Reader (brief mentions of Jung Hoseok x Reader as a past relationship)

Genre: College AU, e2l, idiots to lovers, angst, fluff 

Word Count: 31.3k

Warnings: mild language, minor self-hatred (more so in the form of self doubt), mentions of drinking but not descriptions, Jimin shows up tipsy, I guess name calling but it’s not that serious, a sick pet for a short minute, oc gets somewhat depressed towards the end but it’s resolved 

Summary: In a series of truly misfortunate events, a thief, a plantnapper and a muse-seeking photographer somehow cross paths on their admittedly huge (40,000 students huge) college campus. At first glance they’re just strangers but the more they get to know each other the more they realize their roots intertwine. If the universe had kept them apart for this long, surely it wouldn’t bring them together for a disaster. Right? 

You’re an idiot. Perhaps that stupidest person you know. I mean how can you steal someone’s bag thinking it’s yours? Especially when your backpack isn’t even black and yet here you are staring blankly at the black backpack that lies limply on the table in front of you. Staring at the bag you blink listlessly at it like maybe if you blink enough times the mirage will fade and your own backpack will be in front of you. And yet several silent moments later the black backpack still sits in front of you. You don’t even know who it could belong to. Your lecture consists of 400 students, the owner of the bag could be any of them. Even worse if you email your professor about it to return the stolen item you’ll be known as the girl who stole it. You’ll be a thief. Exhaling a large sigh you slump down onto the desk in front of you, a large thumping sound ringing through the otherwise silent top floor of the library, those around you unaware of the self-damning thoughts running through your mind. 

“Wake up nerd.” Jimin’s voice says and you don’t even have to look up to know he’s looming above you, enjoying the fact that he’s towering over you for once. Oh the woes of the tiny man with the tiny hands. He pushes your shoulder with said tiny hands and you’re half considering becoming weightless and letting him shove your limp body out of the chair just so the feeling of your ass hitting the hard ground will keep you from thinking about your mistake. You can’t even make fun of Jimin for being a dumb blonde now. Well, you could say he’s killing your brain cells. Your lips quirk up at the thought, placated by the idea of pinning your mistake on your innocent best friend. After all, teasing Jimin is your favorite part of the day. 

“Are you dead!” Jimin whispers and you shoot your head up just to glare at him. 

“Don’t act so excited. Plus if I were to die I would not want to go out in a library. How unglamorous.” 

“It would be rather tasteless wouldn’t it?” He pauses for a minute before his eyes widen. “Not that anything is wrong with dying in a library. I’m sure it’s cool.” He laughs awkwardly and you can’t help but chuckle. Ever since he watched that paranormal activity movie with Yoongi, Jimin is convinced that ghosts are real and that they’re listening to every word he says. Like they’d want to follow around a guy who spends his days trying to find the most incognito insoles and browsing the hair dye section at Walgreens. But alas Jimin has always been a victim of the spotlight effect and if you had to guess would view his life as some sort of reality tv show.

“Hey whose backpack is that? Are you meeting someone?” Jimin asks, nodding to the incriminating black bag still on the table. You groan and are in the midst of throwing your head back onto the table when Jimin forcefully stops you by wrapping his hands around your face. Unfortunately, he miscalculates which results in his palms slapping your cheeks while his fingers dig into your mouth that they’d mistakenly pried open. You sputter and scrunch your face in distaste, making a similar expression to that of a baby that has just tried a lemon. 

“When was the last time you washed your hands?” You screech, unaware of the eyes on you. “I can taste the day old cheeto dust. You’ve infected me!” You whine, taking a swig of your water to gurgle like it’s mouthwash. “I need to eat soap or something.” 

“I’m the victim here! Who knows where your mouth has been. Tell me, when was the last time you saw Jung Hoseok?” Jimin also screeches then proceeds to wince when you smack his arm. 

“You ass! I haven’t seen him since we broke up a year ago, you know that.” Jimin nods while pouting, rubbing the spot on his arm like your slap stung. When he sees you looking at the movement his mouth pulls into a smirk as he rolls up his sleeve to reveal his bicep. 

“Kiss it better?” He teases, yelping and jumping backwards before you can smack him again. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“Ditto.” 

“No one even says ditto anymore.” You scoff and he just shrugs. 

“I’ll bring it back, after all I’m famous you know?” 

“Just because you got ten likes on your tweet about your ex doesn’t mean you’re famous.” 

“Say that to my 200 followers.” He runs his fingers through his hair, his own version of a hair flip, before returning his attention back to the incriminating item on the table. “So is someone here with you or…” 

“I may have accidentally stolen someone’s backpack thinking it was mine…” You mumble, hoping that Jimin might not hear you. For a moment you think he might not have until you hear wheezing coming from beside you, Jimin practically sprawled across the floor as his laughter comes out in tiny squeaks. “It’s not funny! This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done! All the bleach fumes from dying your hair has rotted my brain. This is all your fault Jimin.” You whine, bottom lip jutted and brows furrowed as you take on the expression of a kicked puppy. Jimin pauses for a moment in his laughter to observe your behavior before letting out two more huffs. 

“Aww don’t pout kitkat.” Jimin coos, pinching your cheeks between his chubby fingers as he pulls them back and forth until you crack a smile. His plush lips draw into a smile of their own, his eyes creasing as he gently taps your nose. “See kitkat it’s not that big of a deal. Do you know who it belongs to?” When you shake your head ‘no’ he frowns a little before a mischievous smile pulls at his lips. 

“Well we could always look through it? To find the name of the owner of course.” Of course. Not because you’re nosey bitches or anything. 

“If I see one more skull I’m going to scream.” Jimin groans, throwing his head back against your pillows as a textbook you pulled from the backpack lays in front of him. 

“To be fair it is an anatomy textbook and a skull is part of the human body. They’re at least doodling things related to the subject.” 

“But the angst kitkat! I feel like this person only listens to MCR or something.” He whines, displeased with the artist’s choice of subject. 

“I think they’re kinda cool though. The shading’s really good and look! This one is a skull made out of butterflies.” Your fingers run along the drawing lightly, careful not to smudge the artist’s hard work but enjoying following the intricate line work.

“Besides in this notebook there’s all types of different drawings. Some marvel stuff, some succulents. I even found a cute little dog drawing!” You say, turning the notebook around to show him the little dog scrawled in the margins, its small fluffy face smiling. 

“You mean I’ve been looking at skulls for nothing?” 

“I mean I don’t know why you thought you’d find their name in a textbook but I thought maybe you were interested in the subject or something.” You shrug, ignoring the glare Jimin sends your way. 

“You suck.” He declares, sticking his tongue out at you when you look at him. You stick yours at him in response. 

“Bite me.” 

“Oh I see someone’s been watching 90’s movies lately. Tell me, do you imagine finding your own heath ledger like Kat? Or perhaps you’re more of the creepy ‘I’m gonna fall for my step-brother’ type like Cher. Though personally, I got to say I’m a big fan of the ‘childhood best friends to lovers’ trope but I digress. Hey have you found any clues yet?” 

“Well we know they’re an anatomy student and like art. I also found ‘JJK’ scribbled next to a drawing on a scrap of paper that fell out of one of the notebooks so I’m hoping that’s their initials. So we can go through the class roster and hopefully there’s an angsty bio/medical student with those initials.” Pulling out your laptop you migrate from the floor to the bed, pulling out the roster for your english class. Ever so slowly you scroll through the roster, thankful to find only two names with the initials JJK.: Jeon Jungkook and Jung Jaekwan. 

“I think we have an easy solution here. I stalk one and you stalk the other and we see which one was more likely to be in a punk band of some sort when they were in high school.” Jimin suggests, already heading towards your closet to find the best stalker outfit. 

“Or we could just find their instagrams?” You say and Jimin flicks his hand like he’s physically brushing off your suggestion. 

“Already tried, both private. That means they’re probably ugly.” 

“Hey my accounts are private!” You exclaim and you can tell by the way Jimin’s shoulders slightly scrunch inwards that he’s stifling a laugh. 

“Case in point. Anyways, what screams sexy Joe Goldberg? Like we’re definitely going full-stalker mode but like not ‘I’m going to kill you’ yandere vibes.” Jimin ignores the pillow you throw at him, continuing to babble about the perfect outfit like he didn’t just offend you. 

“This is stupid.” You grumble into the miniature walkie-talkie Jimin bought from Walmart, dressed in large sunglasses, black tights and dress, adorned with your black docs. Ever the self-proclaimed fashion icon, Jimin dressed you in every black article of clothing you owned. The sun beat down on you from above, it was rather warm for a late spring day, and you tried to ignore the way sweat began to accumulate under the black ball cap (“It’s the Joe trade mark!”Jimin exclaimed when you protested him adding that to the already questionable outfit seeing as it is almost summer). 

“And stealing someone’s backpack that’s not even the same color as your own is stupid but you don’t hear me criticizing your ideas.” He snarks back at you through the small device. 

“It wasn’t like I planned on it! I told you it was an accident!” You screech at him, only to scream as another voice sounds out from behind you. 

“What are you doing?” You turn around to face a guy with blonde hair, an old camera clutched between his large hands as he crouches down beside you. 

“What are you doing?” You parrot, mind unable to conjure up a reasonable and not weird reason for why you’re here. Here being ducked behind an overgrown bush off to the side of the life science building in hopes you’ll see Jeon Jungkook emerge from the now-finishing Anatomy 101 lecture. It’s one of four and you’re hoping that your mystery man that you’ve loosely memorized from his profile picture- although half his face is obscured by large wire framed glasses that you can’t figure out if are real or for fashion- hears your beckoning call and comes out of those double doors.

“Photography assignment.” The guy holds up the camera to justify his statement. “Are you looking for something?” He glances at the surrounding area before noticing the walkie-talkie in your hand. 

“Oh I used to love those as a kid!” Snatching it from your fingers he immediately talks into it and you face palm as you imagine Jimin’s face on the receiving end. “Houston this is starship one. We are prepared to land. Houston do you hear me?” The stranger giggles, lips forming into a peculiar grin before his eyes widen when Jimin’s voice crackles through the cheap speaker. 

“Listen dumbass, I’m out here before 2:00 pm trying to resurrect your mistake and you’re playing games with a stranger?! Do you not understand that I sacrificed my beauty sleep for this? I’m seeing Soyeon during lecture today and you know I like to look good for her.” 

Snatching the device from the stranger you hurry to appease your best friend. “I’m sorry Jiminie! But you don’t need beauty sleep, you’re already the most handsome guy I know.” 

“I’m listening.” Jimin says after your pause. 

“You could rival Aphrodite herself! In fact I’m sure that’s why she led me to steal someone’s backpack so you’d lose said beauty sleep so she could have a chance at being prettier than you!” You cringe at your own words, you don’t think you’ve ever laid it on this thick, but you need Jimin. He’s the only one you know shameless enough to help you in such an endeavor, I mean you’re literally stalking someone just to find out if you have their backpack. Plus you really didn’t mean to hurt Jimin’s feelings. 

“That was a bit too much for my taste but I appreciate your sentiment. You’ve been redeemed. Now tell your friend he either needs to go or help us.” When you turn to said “friend” he’s staring at you with pink lips parted, strong eye brows pulled together in confusion as you watch him try to process what just happened. You can’t believe someone’s witnessed the monstrosity of this whole situation, much less someone so handsome. It really would be your luck. You must be cursed or something. 

“You stole someone’s backpack?” Ahh it seems that tiny detail is what his mind has fixated on the most. 

“No not stole, accidentally took. Why would you steal someone’s bag?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He shrugs, moving to stand up and you immediately scramble up after him, thoughts of finding whoever Jeon Jungkook is long forgotten. 

“You don’t understand, it was an accident! I was tired and grabbed the one nearest me before walking out. And I’m trying to return it I just don’t know who it is so I was trying to see if this guy is missing a backpack.” You ramble, too lost in your narrative to notice the way he smiles almost fondly down at you. 

“And the walkie talkie?” 

“Oh you see we have two suspects-“ You start only to be interrupted. 

“Suspects?” 

“Yes suspects, I don’t have a better word. But I’m supposed to watch for one guy and Jimin watch for another- that’s the guy who cussed me out earlier- but I got distracted and now I just missed him which means I have to sit outside this stupid hall for the rest of the day to make sure he’s not in any of the other lectures to see if he was in this one and I just realized that he could’ve missed today which means I might have to wear this stupid outfit again-“ 

The handsome stranger raises his hand to stop your word vomit and you give him a sheepish smile when your words finally stop pouring out. “While I would like to stick around and hear more about your detective work, I have class in approximately ten minutes so I need to get going.” He says and you try to hide the way you deflate a little. 

“Oh okay.” He smiles at you one final time before jogging in the opposite direction while you watch after him. Jeon Jungkook be damned, just who was that? 

After your failed attempt at locating the aloof Jeon Jungkook- not that you were really looking because your mind was clogged with thoughts of your mystery man with the pretty smile- you trudge back to your tiny apartment in hopes to get some peace and quiet. The dream is destroyed, however, when you can hear the music from your neighbor all the way down the hall by the elevators. Agitated and sweaty, you march towards their door, more than willing to be an annoying neighbor if it means you can nap. 

The cheap door rattles lightly under your heavy fists and you can’t help the satisfaction it brings you. Banging on a door is truly a great way to release tension it seems. A muffled “Turn it down so I can think!” sounds through the thin wood and the music lowers just barely. They might as well have not even bothered to fiddle with the volume at all. The door swings open and a guy with shoulders almost as wide as the doorway- you don’t know whether his shoulders are just that huge or if the door is that small, maybe both- leans against it lazily as his gaze flickers down your form. 

“You’re not Namjoon.” Is the thought that makes its way out of your brain and into the atmosphere, the four word sentence stilling the air between you two. 

“Well you’re right there sweetheart. I’m his much more handsome older brother. And you are?” He asks and you’re rather thankful that he decided to go with it rather than think about what type of idiot states who someone clearly is not. Maybe you really are getting dumber. 

“Y/n, the lovely neighbor who just wants to take a nap. Which I can’t do if your music is so loud that I can hear it all the way down the hall.” He pauses for a moment to take in what you’ve said before pressing off the door to stand straight in front of you. He towers over you and you can’t help but shrink back a little. 

“Namjoon did tell me about a nice neighbor but he never gave me a name. Though since you’re complaining about my music I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re lovely.” 

“Hey I had a long day!” You exclaim, raising back to your full height like that will somehow get him to take you more seriously. Though with the lazy smirk he gives you, your need to prove yourself only provides him entertainment. 

“Well I’ve had a rather long day too, I’ve been babysitting all day.” A scoff of protest sounds from behind him and you try and inconspicuously look around the wide-shouldered man to see who else is inside Namjoon’s apartment. All you can see though is a random figure drowning in an oversized hoodie on the couch before the man at the door requests your attention again. Perhaps if you had looked a little harder you would’ve noticed the wire frame glasses sitting neatly on the glass end table. “Which is why I’m playing my music to relax. And drown out the incessant whining. ‘Seokjin get me water. Seokjin make me food. Seokjin do my math homework’, like I’m even good at such thing. I’m a liberal arts student.” You can’t help but laugh at the way he whines out the demands of presumably the other stranger in the apartment, his voice pitched higher than normal like he’s trying to imitate a child. 

“Well Seokjin, I have just one request. Can you please turn the music down by like a third so I won’t hear it through the wall?” You bring your hands to clasp together in front of you, cocking your head to the side while batting your eyelashes up at him. He seems like the type to like aegyo. Evidently your assumption is very much wrong as he scrunches his nose in distaste. 

“Please never make that face again. But I guess I can turn it down since you asked so nicely. Though next time you have a request for me at least buy me dinner first?” He says before waving at you goodbye through a laugh and shutting the door. The music now a quiet murmur in the hallway as you open your own apartment door. Odd, Namjoon never mentioned having roommates. 

Apparently you too have surprise roommates as a tipsy Jimin appears at your door with a suitcase behind him as he stumbles into your apartment along with his small calico cat named Kimchi who immediately jumps out of his arms when she recognizes your apartment. “Jimin?” You say tentatively, almost like if you say his name too loud he’ll snap. “What’re you doing here at 2 a.m?” 

“Mad at Yoongi. Living here now.” Is the only explanation he gives you before trudging into your bedroom, the bed creaking as he flops down on it meanwhile his suitcase still stands next to you in the living room. Kimchi pays no mind to her owner’s sad drunken form, kneading at your old couch until she finds a soft spot to curl up on. 

“Jiminie, what did Yoongi do?” 

“Told me he saw Soyeon making out with some guy in a bar yesterday.” Jimin sniffles, crawling over to lay his head in your lap when you sit down on the other side of your bed. Your fingers immediately weave through the soft strands gently similar to the way a mother would soothe her child. 

“You’re mad because he told you?” You ask. 

“Mad because he lied. Soyeon told me she couldn’t go to the movies yesterday because she had to study for an exam today. She even told me it went really well when I saw her in our com lecture. Why would Yoongi lie to me about that when he knows how I feel about her?” You can’t help the way you look down at Jimin pitifully, glad that he’s turned away from you so he can’t see the sadness in your eyes. Min Yoongi is nothing if not painfully blunt but he’s always been honest. So you know that he’s telling Jimin the truth, a truth that Jimin- blinded by his love for Soyeon that’s been growing since freshman year of college when they shared english 101- doesn’t want to hear nor accept. It’s a truth you’ve been trying to ease him into for months now, the fact that despite Soyeon knowing Jimin’s feelings she’s never made an effort to actually put effort into a relationship with him. She only drags him back in with faux affection when she can feel her hold on him begin to slip between her fingers. Jimin’s body begins to shake again as his mind drifts off to what Yoongi said again, your legs becoming slightly wet as his tears trickle onto them. 

‘Aww Jiminie,” You sigh, moving a hand to wipe at his tears on the cheek available to you. “It’s gonna be okay, you and Yoongi will still be friends after this.” 

“I just don’t know why he’d tell me that. Just thinking about her with someone else makes it feel like someone is stabbing me and cutting my heart out piece by piece. Make the pain go away kitkat. Please.” He whimpers and your heart breaks alongside him as tears fall down your own cheeks. You wish you could take the heartache away, you wish he’d never met Soyeon, that he found someone who loved him as much as he deserves. You wish that there was something you could do but sadly Jimin will have to get over his feelings on his own. There’s not much you can do besides wipe away his tears. 

“I’m so sorry Jiminie, but it’ll get better. You’ll find someone who’ll love you more than she ever could.” it’s the only solace you can offer him at the moment and while now it does nothing you hope it plants a little seed in his mind to later sprout into hope for the future. 

“Yoongi wasn’t lying was he?” Jimin says after a few minutes, voice so soft you almost miss it entirely. 

“I don’t think so bub.” You whisper, brushing his hair back from his face softly. 

“Can I still stay here? I just need some time away to think and figure out how to apologize.” 

“Stay for as long as you need.” You tell him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of his head. “What’re best friends for?” 

You wake up early the next morning to Kimchi sitting on your chest, patting your face gently with her paw. “Hi sweetheart.” You say softly and she responds by rubbing her face against yours. “You hungry?” You ask her to which she meows in response. Sitting up slowly she jumps off of you and waits impatiently for you by the door, yelling at you to hurry up. Rubbing your eyes you slip on your slippers before following her to the kitchen to make sure she doesn’t wake Jimin up. Thankfully you had babysat Kimchi earlier this year and have leftover food for her which you pour into a little bowl before moving onto making breakfast for you and Jimin. Settling on pancakes, because really who doesn’t like waking up to pancakes, you head downstairs to the nearby market to buy the necessary ingredients as well as a litter box for Kimchi. You’re not really sure how long Jimin will be staying with you but judging by the fact Jimin needs time to think about just how to apologize you can only guess the blowout between him and Yoongi was pretty bad. He’ll probably be staying for at least a week to build up the courage to even face your eldest friend. 

Pushing the shopping cart through the empty isles of the shop- honestly you should come here only in the early mornings because there’s no one to get in your way when you glide across the isles on the back of the cart- you pause in front of the small plant section in the corner of the store. They’re mostly succulents and little flowers for people who’ve forgotten anniversaries and need to pick up one last minute but you contemplate bringing home a little aloe vera plant. Jimin has always talked about wanting to start becoming a plant dad and maybe this will cheer him up a little. Just before you can grab it because yes you do need that little plant to add to the forest that is your apartment, it’s snatched up by someone’s grubby hands. You squawk in disbelief- yes sadly squawk but it’s also 8 in the morning so do you really care- blinking at the plantnapper in shock. “That’s my plant.” Similar to the not-Namjoon Seokjin incident your mouth moves before your mind has time to process what you’re going to say. 

“Is your name on it?” The thief says and you internally gag. Ugh he’s one of those guys. 

“Yes actually it’s written as ‘fuck you’ in the soil.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare at your plant clutched between his fingers forlornly. You don’t even bother to look up at his face, his identity shall be nothing but a plantnapper to you. 

“Are you always this pleasant?” He says airily and you almost look up at him just from hearing the smirk in his voice but refrain. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction. 

“Are you always such an ass?” You quip and to your anger he laughs. He giggles like you just told him the funniest joke of the century and you can feel your insides heat up as you struggle not to throttle him. 

“If I recall correctly all I did was take this plant. You’re the one who started calling me names and cussing me out.” You hate that he’s right but you’ve always been known for your stubbornness. 

“I wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t a thief.” You tell him, reaching out to grab the plant from his hands when you notice his grip slacken slightly in confusion. If only he didn’t have good reflexes as he holds the little succulent high above his head. 

“Ah ah ah,” He tuts and you finally look up at him, coming face to face with large round eyes glinting with happiness. You scowl further as you realize he won and got you to look at him. “Such a shame a pretty face is wasted.” He says, you can just imagine the ear-splitting grin hidden behind his large black face mask. 

“Give me my plant.” You deadpan, wanting to end the altercation all together. You’d lost the will to want it so badly as soon as he pointed out that he was in fact right and you had been the one to start this petty argument, but now your desire to not lose has won over and you’re adamant on leaving with the plant still trapped in his hands. 

“Say please and I’ll consider it.” He counters, unaffected by the sharp glare you send his way. 

“I saw it first!” You whine and again he giggles. 

“What is this, elementary school? Well in that case, you snooze you loose!” If it weren’t for the face mask obscuring his mouth you just know he would be sticking his tongue out at you. Just the thought irks you enough to submit to his will. 

“Fine, can I please have the plant?” You sigh hating the way his eyes twinkle. 

“Sure thing.” He says before setting it down on the highest shelf available, one you’ll have to scale the shelf case just to grab. When he notices your expression of both defeat and annoyance his eyes crinkle once more into a large grin as he pats the top of your head lightly. “Have a nice day!” He sings before walking off in the opposite direction. You flip off his parting figure before sighing and staring at the aloe vera plant helplessly. You can’t just leave it there in case he comes back to see if you’ve managed to snag the plant. If it’s still there that means he’ll have bested you three times and you can’t have that even if he is a total stranger. 

Your feet are perched on the bottom rung of the shelving as you reach up aimlessly with one hand, your mind so busy cursing out the stranger that you don’t hear the approaching footsteps of another person until a hand comes over your outstretched one and grabs the plant. Not again, you groan internally. 

“Listen-“ You begin, turning around fully ready to be faced with a smirking crinkly eyed boy only to sputter when you realize it’s the guy with the camera you couldn’t get out of your head yesterday. He has a little apron on, one that all the employees wear, and a large silver name tag that displays his name so prettily. 

“Were you trying to get this little guy?” He asks, voice warm and smooth like honey as he gently strokes his finger along one of the leaves of the small plant. His brown hair is like the color of milk chocolate, softened by the early morning sun and he’s so beautiful and warm you fully forget how to function. Like your brain short circuits and for a moment you forget where you are and what you were saying. 

“Uhh yeah.” You manage to spit out after awkwardly gaping at him for who knows how long. “Thanks…Taehyung.” His name sounds so natural coming out of your mouth- but that’s probably just because you’re secretly a hopeless romantic who gets caught up in pretty boys much too easily- and you can’t help but wish that you’ll get to say it many more times. He gingerly hands the plant over to you and you can feel your cheeks getting hot when his fingers brush your own. 

“Anytime stalker girl.” He giggles. It’s such an endearing sound. 

“Y/n, my name is y/n.” You tell him, nervously fiddling with the leaves of your little plant. 

“Need any help finding anything else?” He asks you and maybe- just maybe- you ask him to show you where the cat stuff is. But only because you don’t know- you do- where the cat stuff is and not because you want to spend more time with him- like how you ask his opinion on what food flavors Kimchi would like when she’s not even your cat and you have food at home. 

Thankfully Jimin is still asleep when you arrive home which means you can still surprise him. You were a little stressed when you realized just how much time you had spent talking to Taehyung- just the thought of him makes you smile like a lovesick fool, grinning to yourself in your empty kitchen as you unload the groceries- but it turns out the emotional turmoil Jimin’s going through is enough to make him exhausted. Kimchi watches you mix the batter curiously from the top of the refrigerator, her tail flicking gently almost like it’s swaying to the music playing softly from your phone. “Should I make bacon?” You ask her, nodding affirmatively when she meows back at you that yes, you should. 

The bacon sizzles as it hits the hot pan while you stand as far away as possible, carefully placing each strip with salad tongs. You jump when the grease pops, mind flashing back to the time Jimin almost set the dorm kitchen on fire. For someone who had worked in a restaurant during high school you would think he’d know not to put water in a hot pan of oil. Kimchi also hates the sound, her tail whacking you in the face as it flicks agitatedly. You wipe at your tongue furiously after feeling what can only be cat hair in your mouth- possibly the worst texture of all time- before making eye contact with a sleepy Jimin leaning against the hallway wall. “You’re cooking?” He asks, no stranger to finding cat hair in uncomfortable places. 

“Thought I’d surprise you.” You smile awkwardly, gesturing to the pan before flinching when the oil pops. 

“Breakfast in bed? Your future boyfriend will be the luckiest guy out there. I didn’t even have to put out.” Jimin laughs, disregarding the way you internally gag at the thought of being intimate with Jimin. It’s not that you don’t think he’s attractive because lets’s be honest, with his plush lips that could rival any bratz doll, thick head of black hair and amazing physique from dancing- you really should’ve took him up on taking classes with him- he’s a straight stunner. His sweet and charming albeit snarky personality only makes him even more alluring. If only you hadn’t known him for so long- more like took baths with him as babies- you’d probably see him as something more than just an annoying, lovable little brother. You say little despite him being older because this man really does act like a five year old sometimes. 

“Please never put that image into my head again.” You say, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes. 

“It’s your fault for imagining it. Ugh now you’re making me think about it; when will the torture end?” He whines only pausing his dramatics when you put a stack of bacon and pancakes in front of him. Immediately he slathers them in butter and syrup, completely silent as he digs in. 

“Wow thank you, Y/n you’re the best! I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.” You say sarcastically, patting yourself on the back before turning to flip your own pancakes. 

“Thanks you.” Jimin sings through a mouthful of food, standing up to give you a sticky kiss on the cheek in appreciation. 

“Gross!” You yell, wiping your cheek on a nearby dish towel before twisting it to snap it at Jimin. He shrieks in terror and you laugh manically, plating your own breakfast before sitting besides him at the counter top. The barstools creak under your weight- although what did you expect when you bought the cheapest ones available at Ikea- and you half worry it’s going to break but thankfully you don’t end up bruising your ass today. “I did such a good job. These are delicious, wow.” This time you really do give yourself on the back, proud to say that you’ve still got it. They’re fluffy, not burned, and edible. Someone needs to cast you for top chef. 

Jimin chuckles from beside you, the two of you eating in silence until Jimin notices the small aloe vera plant next to the fridge. “You bought another plant?” He says exasperated, almost like your slight plant addiction has offended him. 

“Firstly I told you the more plants the better the air quality. Plus more free oxygen.” 

“All oxygen is free stupid.” 

“Anyways, since you wanted to be a plant dad I thought you could start out with this little guy. It should be relatively easy but I can help you if you have any questions.” 

“Oh, thanks. I guess I’m a proud father of two now.” Standing up Jimin grabs the little plot, cradling it between his fingers. “It needs a name.” 

“Cherry.” 

“I hate cherries.” Jimin says going so far as to pucker his lips and scrunch his nose to show his distaste. 

“Not cherry cherries, Cherry.” You say, sighing and rolling your eyes when Jimin doesn’t understand the clear difference. “Only the best character in animal crossing, duh.” 

“She doesn’t even wear Gucci.” Jimin scoffs and you place a hand over your heart, wholly offended by the slander taking place in front of you. 

“Just because she’s not a hypebeast does not make her inferior. Besides aren’t you more of a YSL guy? Gucci is their direct competition.” 

“I just- Cherry and Kimchi sounds horrible.” Jimin sighs. 

“Please.” You plead, pulling your best puppy dog eyes. “I went through so much just to get it.” 

“Did you embarrass yourself again?” Jimin’s voice is something along the lines of a disappointed mom- the one where they just kinda sigh it out because they shouldn’t have expected you to change- and you just flash him a smile. 

“If you’re asking if I was mid-scaling a case of shelves to try and get Cherry from the very top and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen caught me in the act then yes. But I only had to scale it because this jerk wanted to flex his height and put it up there so I had to climb to get it. I mean he’s not even like super tall he’s just normal tall so maybe it’s an inferiority complex. Can tall guys have those?” You ramble, mid-tangent when Jimin raises a hand to stop you. 

“Fine we can name it Cherry. But just know when people ask me why that’s the name I’m blaming you.” 

“You act like Kimchi is not just as weird. She’s not even mainly orange.” Feeling a pair of eyes on you you turn and come face to face with Kimchi who had left her post on the fridge to make her presence known. If she had eye brows you swear she’d be glaring since her eyes have lost their typical round shape and are more angular. “Sorry baby you know I still love you.” You tell her, rubbing the top of her head until she purrs. 

“Don’t listen to her Kim, she’s lying.” Jimin whispers conspiratorially to which you gasp. Pulling her into your chest you cover her ears as you cradle her. 

“Don’t put such words in her head. I even bought new food for her!” 

“Are you stalking me?” A voice you’d recognize anywhere, Taehyung’s, says to your left and you swear you’ve never turned faster in your life. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You tease, chuckling to hide the way your heart races at the sight of him. HIs hair is a wavy mess today, toeing the line between bedhead and purposely but ever so sexy all the same. He’s wearing a thin, black sweater today tucked into some loose brown plaid plants and looks effortlessly good. It’s truly unfair for him to be this attractive, you’re not sure your heart- nor your stomach with the way butterflies are fluttering rampantly in your ribcage- can take it. “Besides aren’t you the one doing the stalking? After all I was here first.” 

“Very true but I also caught you in the act the other day, so I can’t be too sure.” He teases, nudging your arm with his own. “So have you found the guy you’re looking for yet?” He asks, moving to sit next to a bench a few feet away and patting the spot next to him. 

“Not yet, he’s more aloof than I thought.” 

“A buddy of mine had his bag stolen recently too. Apparently you’re not the only kleptomaniac on campus.” 

“I’m not a thief!” You exclaim, playfully slapping his shoulder as he giggles at you. 

“Alright, alright.” He says throwing his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Oh hey how’d your photography assignment go?” You ask, half curious and half itching to fill the silence between the two of you. 

“Nothing really struck my interest.” He shrugs. “You’re actually the only thing I could think of the rest of the day.” He says it so casually like he’s talking about what he ate that day, completely unaware of the way you clam up beside him. How do you even respond to that?

Laughing awkwardly because your mind has shut down and you’ve been left to follow your useless instincts, you fiddle with the rings on your fingers. “Yeah you’re pretty interesting yourself.” You want to bash your head into the sidewalk. That’s the best you could come up with?

“Want to be my muse?” He turns to you then, looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing to him. It makes you nervous, what will he do when he finds out that you’re just average? 

“If you want me to be.” You say softly, avoiding meeting his eyes. You’re mad at yourself for how shy you’ve become but you’ve never been in a situation like this before. Taehyung is just so blunt and sweet, but you’re so accustomed to loving insults that you don’t know how to respond in something that’s not sarcastic. 

“I want to catch you in your element.” He says, reaching over to take your hand in his own. Your cheeks heat up instinctively and you turn away to hide it, turning back around when you hear the familiar shutter of a camera. You didn’t even realize he had it.

“I’m afraid I’m not that interesting.” You tell him earnestly, unable to hide your crestfallen expression. 

“I beg to differ. I mean how many girls do you find that hide in bushes outside science lectures and use mini walkie-talkies?” You can’t help but crack a smile, imagining yourself from his point of view. That must’ve been quite the sight. 

“That was a one time event. Well hopefully. I’m just kinda wishing the owner of the bag will just appear in front of me.” You sigh, looking forlornly at the life science building. You just knew the owner had to be in there somewhere. 

“That’d be easy.” Taehyung laughs, his smile falling when his phone buzzes. “I have to go to class but I’ll see you again okay?” 

“Oh okay. Should I give you my number then?” You ask, fumbling with your phone to bring up the contacts page. 

“Sure, though I think through fate we’d meet again anyways. Don’t you think it means something that out of the 40,000 students on campus we found each other?” His eyes twinkle with mirth and you smile back at him, hoping that this is some kind of act of fate. Maybe you’ve even found your soulmate. 

“I hope so.” You tell him, smile growing as a boxy grin takes over his face. You’ve never met someone so adorable. He waves at you goodbye, throwing you a cheesy kiss as he walks in the other direction, leaving you to squeal by yourself in peace. 

After spending the entirety of your free time spent sitting outside the life science building looking for a face you barely remember at this point you give up. You’ll just have to bring the backpack to the lost and found and notify your professor that you found a back from your past lecture and brought it there so he could tell the class. You’d also have to look for your own backpack, your mind so focused on the fact that you had someone’s bag that it completely disregarded the fact that you didn’t even have your own. Thankfully you still have your laptop so you’ve been able to complete your home work but all your notes were in that bag. Trudging through the hallway you ignore the noise coming from next-door, praying that by the time you return from this adventure they’ll be quiet, you quickly grab the bag and head out. You’re surprised to see a frustratingly familiar face however and you make eye contact with the guy standing outside of Namjoon’s door. You’d recognize those stupid big eyes and black mask anywhere. It’s the plantnapper. 

“You’re the thief?” He yells in disbelief, pointing to the backpack as if it’s incriminating. Well it is but it shouldn’t be to him. You only blink at him in surprise, still stood in the doorway to your apartment as your brain tries to process what this means. “I should figure as much after the plant incident.” He scoffs, eyes sharpening as he glares at your unresponsive form. He must know the person who owns this bag that has to be it. Or, oh no, what if he’s the guy who owns it.

Taking a moment to observe your self-declared nemesis, you take in the tattoos that poke out from his oversized black t-shirt, the man piercings in his ear, the all black (tattoos included) aesthetic. The only thing that doesn’t scream that he could like drawing skulls in his free time is the dorky bucket hat on his head. Stepping closer, you look in his eyes once again trying to imagine the ones from Jeon Jungkook’s instagram profile picture to them. It’s only when he crosses his arms at your scrutinizing gaze do you notice the wire frame glasses hanging from the collar of his shirt. Oh no, please not him. Anybody but him. 

“You’re Jeon Jungkook?” You ask incredulously not believing that he’s right here in front of you. You thought the guy who drew the skulls and small plants would be a shy emo nerd not an arrogant asshole. 

“So she speaks.” He says, reaching forward to wrench the backpack out of your hands. “Why’d you steal my bag anyways, thief?” He spits the word out and you glare at him, fists clenching at your side. 

“I’m not a thief. I accidentally took it thinking it was mine!” You say indignantly, tired of having to retell this story so many times. You wish you would’ve just thrown it away. You would’ve if you had figured out the plantnapper’s identity sooner. 

“You thought it was yours for two days? Are you stupid?” He asks and you suck on your inner cheek in irritation. 

“No I was just trying to find you to return it personally, but now I wish I’d have just thrown it away or burned it.” 

“Wait a minute…does that mean you’re missing your bag?” His eyes twinkle in amusement and he looks much too pleased with the situation for your liking. You liked it better when he looked angry because at least you knew what was coming. 

“No.” You say, though you can hear the hesitance in your own voice at your blatant lie. 

“So you’re telling me that you don’t have a blue bag covered in pins and a bunch of pink bunny notebooks?” When he notices your eyes widen because you realize he took your bag as well, a smirk takes over his already obnoxious features. “You wanna lie to me again?” He teases, grinning as he once again watches you sigh in defeat. 

“Fine yes it’s mine okay? Can I have it back since you have yours?” 

“Hmm I don’t know, I quite like some of the things you’ve written in the margins of your notebooks. Can you explain to me more about the sock puppet show?” 

“That wasn’t me it was Jimin!” Another lie, you thought your little nephew might like it for when you babysit him, but he doesn’t need to know that. You refuse to give him any more blackmail material. 

“I’m sure.” He says sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “Do you really think I’m that stupid?” He asks and this time it’s your turn to grin. 

“Do you want an honest answer?” 

“What do you know, thief.” He scoffs and you scoff in return. Who knew someone could be so irritating? 

“You’re the one who stole- and still has- my backpack!” You yell at him, enjoying in the way he pokes his tongue into his cheek in irritation. 

“Because you stole mine first!” He whines, petulantly stomping his foot. You don’t suppress the urge to laugh to which he frowns. “Fine you want the bag? Then go get it.” Angrily he reaches into his pocket only to come up empty before banging his head on the front door rather harshly. The thud carries down the hall. 

“That was pretty loud. Is it really that empty up there?” You reach up to knock your fist against his skull just to be annoying but he swats your hand away. 

“I don’t have a key.” He sighs, before beating on the door so hard that it rattles yours as well. “Seokjin!” He yells and you take a step back from him just in case any of your neighbors poke their head out to see what the commotion is about. You don’t want to be associated with him. “Jin open the fucking door!” He yells again, his voice wavering as embarrassment takes hold. His neck and ears begin to turn red, the blush spreading to his cheeks as he pounds against the door almost desperately. If he wasn’t such a nuisance and your sworn enemy you’d probably find it endearing. 

“You don’t have a key to your own apartment?” You tease, leaning against your own front door as you soak in his misery. It’s about time he do something stupid in front of you. Victory tastes so sweet. 

“Shut up.” He snaps, jiggling the door handle like it’ll magically unlock itself. You’re actually starting to feel bad as you watch him wither inside, fully succumbing to the embarrassment of it all. 

“Hey it’s okay, maybe he’s not home.” You say softly, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from knocking again. His knuckles are red from the harsh pounding and when he turns to you with eyes somewhat watery and a giant pout on his lips your heart cracks a little. You begin to even regret being so mean to him until the door opens and he returns back to normal. 

“Finally!” He yells ignoring Seokjin’s annoyed face as he scurries towards the back of his apartment where you assume his room is. 

“This kid, moving in here without notice and then rudely waking me up from a nap.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, moving to stand aside as Jungkook’s footsteps get louder as he trudges back towards you. 

“Here’s your bag thief. Hope I never see you again!” Throwing your backpack at you he slams the door in your face leaving you to stare at it blankly. Just when you think someone isn’t half bad they have to prove you wrong. Scoffing you turn around and head back into your own apartment, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes on you watching through the peephole. 

When Jimin arrives home you’re still brewing in agitation from your encounter with your ever so pleasant neighbor- note the sarcasm. “So I’m guessing giving the backpack back didn’t go well?” Jimin asks, flopping beside you on the couch. Kimchi immediately jumps up after him, content to lay on his lap while purring loudly. You’re a little envious that he comes back home to something happy to see him, a loneliness you didn’t know you felt creeping up on you as you now know what it’s like to come home to something. There’s only so much comfort your plants can provide. Maybe you should get a boyfriend- Taehyung pops in your mind and you instantly smile, only to scowl when the buck-toothed loser takes his place- perhaps you should just get a pet instead. 

“Let’s just say I never want to see Jeon Jungkook again.” You huff, crossing your arms as his stupid smirk appears in your head. You should’ve slapped it off him. He’s lucky you’re not a violent person otherwise you would’ve. 

“Would food cheer you up?” Jimin asks, eyeing you with a smile because he already knows the answer. 

“Is it free?” 

“Always.” Jimin laughs, taking his phone out of his pocket- careful not to disturb Kimchi too much- before dialing a number you know too well. Your local pizza restaurant is famous on campus, fancy enough that people don’t feel like they’re just eating grease like dominoes but also cheap enough that it doesn’t feel like they’re breaking the bank on literal pizza. It’s college, if people are gonna waste their money it’s for sure going to be on alcohol. 

“Hi I’d like to place an order.” Jimin says, giggling when he recognizes the voice of whoever is on the receiving end. “I’m glad you answered, I missed your voice. Maybe you could deliver the pizza too so we can spend a little time together. You haven’t taken your break yet have you?” You stare at him quizzically until you realize just what the little snake is doing. You hope to never be on the receiving end of Jimin’s flirtatious advances, especially knowing that he flirts with anybody to get what he wants. “Oh how disappointing I wanted to see you.” He sighs, going so far as to pout even though they can’t see him. “Maybe you can make it up to me somehow?” He asks sickly sweet and you only stare in awe as he flashes you a brilliant smile. The rat just got a free pizza, you know it. Hanging up the phone Jimin waggles his eyebrows at you, cackling evilly like he’s some kind of witch or something. 

“You didn’t think I’d pay for you did you? I don’t even pay for myself.” He snorts- yes snorts- entirely too pleased with himself for your liking. 

“I can’t wait till this catches up to you.” 

“Then stop benefitting from it.” Jimin shrugs and you whine at him in response. 

“But the perks are so nice. Ahh I feel like a bad person but at the same time I’m not the scammer.” 

“I am not a scammer. I’m just taking advantage of my pretty privilege.” Jimin says and you only further your pout. 

“Why don’t I get pretty privilege?” 

“You just don’t have the face for it.” He says bluntly, screeching when you smack his chest. 

“Park Jimin take it back!” You continue your assault on his chest until he grabs your hands in his own, using his strength to hold them away from his body. 

“I just mean you’re not good at flirting! You’re just mean and shit.” He huffs, watching your reaction skeptically to see if you’ll try and lunge for him again. 

“I can flirt. And besides I’m not mean, I’m an angel.” You say, taking your hands away to place them in your lap. You focus instead on Kimchi who is so unbothered by this whole ordeal that she’s fallen asleep. 

“Yeah okay.” Jimin laughs, the kinda half snort-half huff type. “And if you’re not mean why did Seokjin text me about you yelling at someone in the hallway.” 

“It’s not just someone, it was Jeon Jungkook. My rival, my arch-nemesis, my most hated person. He deserved it anyways, he called me a thief! Can you believe it?” You exclaim, irked by just the thought of your previous argument. It’s been so long since someone has surpassed your indifference and gotten so under your skin that just the thought of them makes you want to punch something. You think the last time you felt like this was in eighth grade and it’s as infuriating as you remember. You hate him. 

“I mean you did steal his bag.” Jimin says and you turn so fast he actually jumps. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that? It was an accident!” Jimin falls silent after that, finally realizing that he’s treading on thin ice. He didn’t realize that this Jeon Jungkook was such a sore spot for you, all he wanted was to tease you a little. The two of you continue to sit in silence, the only sound being Kimchi’s soft purrs and the occasional rumble from the old air conditioning system. 

You want to say something, you know Jimin didn’t mean to make you so upset but you’re not goof at explaining your feelings. Or expressing emotions. You should probably try a little harder because glancing at Jimin through the corner of your eye you can see how glossy his eyes have become. “Jiminie I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” You murmur, half ashamed and half uncomfortable with being vulnerable. It’s stupid, he’s your best friend and he’s seen you cry before but it never gets any easier. “Please don’t cry because of me. It-it hurts to see you cry.”

Jimin sniffles and you almost start crying on your own, distraught at the fact you made him cry. Despite his snarky remarks you know Jimin is quite sensitive and you’re so stupid for forgetting about that. “That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“That makes me sound like a bad person. You know I love you, I just don’t say it a lot.” You chuckle, somewhat in an attempt to lighten the mood. It’s gotten much too depressing for your liking. Hastily wiping his cheeks he smiles brightly at you and your chest doesn’t hurt as much when you realize that he’s okay. 

“I love you too kitkat.” He says, opening his mouth to say something else before the doorbell cuts him off. 

“Pizza!” You cheer, jumping up and heading to the door quickly. The tension in your shoulders dissipating as you distract yourself. They rise up again when you realize just who is on the other side. “No.” You say, frowning as you’re reacquainted with his face.

“Yes.” He grins, the type that could give the cheshire cat a run for his money. “Now that’s $19.50.” 

“The pizza was free.”  

“I saw that but since it’s you…$19.50” He says and you scowl. 

“I’m not paying for a free pizza. Besides you’re overcharging, can you even do math?” 

“I’m charging for every second I have to speak to you.” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one getting paid then since I didn’t chose to come to you, you came to me?” 

“That makes no sense, my job is literally to deliver pizzas.” He says, shaking the box with your pizza like his red vest and the grease smeared across his cheek is not indicative of his job. 

“Yeah and you’re doing a really bad job at it. So if you don’t mind,” Swiping the box out of his hand you hold it close to you before giving him a parting smile. “Goodbye.” Slamming the door in his face as he had done to you earlier, you lock it just before he can grab your handle. 

“What about my tip?” He yells, banging his fist against the door. You only grin, fully indulging in the anger that seeps through his tone. Something about pissing him off gives you so much joy. Does that make you a sadist or something?

“Here’s a tip, stop bothering me!” 

“That’s not even a tip, that’s a statement idiot!” 

“Whatever you Bambi-looking headass!” You yell back, moving away from the door and presenting the pizza to Jimin like it’s a glorious prize. Jungkook is still banging on the door and do spite him further you have alexa play a song on full blast. It’s painful for your own ears but after letting it play for a minute, you turn it off completely only to rejoice in the fact that you can’t hear your nemesis outside the door anymore. 

“I have so much I want to say but I’ll refrain for now.” Jimin says and you don’t like the way he’s looking at you. It’s almost like he knows something.

“Good idea. Now let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Two days later and you’re once again in your nearby market because Kimchi has now decided that her food is no longer good enough to eat. So to avoid your niece starving- as much as you love Jimin you refuse to co-pet-parent with him- you have to return to the store to buy her more food. You make a mental note to get a dog instead of a cat if you do decide to get a pet solely because they’re not picky about what they eat. Plus they’re rather loud with their affection which you appreciate. You can’t say you’re too mad about having to return to this store so soon though because you might get the chance to see Taehyung again. You’ve been hoping that he’d reach out to you at some point but you’re beginning to think he was serious about letting fate have you cross paths again. What if fate screws you over and you never see him again? 

You almost jump in joy when you spot the back of his head- should you be concerned that you already know what the back of it looks like- unable to suppress the small squeak sound that leaves you. Why are you so embarrassing? You give him an awkward smile when he turns around, nerves calmed by the fact that he grins brightly back at you. “So we meet again.” He says and you’re pretty sure your pupils have taken the shape of hearts from how you look at him. 

“Yeah.” You breathe out like you’re in a lovesick trance- yikes your hopeless romanticism is showing. 

“Did you come just to see me?” He teases and you actually choke on your spit because embarrassingly yes, you partially came for him. He only chuckles at your reaction, placing a large palm between your shoulder blades to rub soothing circles while you cough your lung out. You understand now why you don’t experience pretty privilege; how can anyone find such a mess attractive?

“I came to get more cat food.” You croak out, throat sore and scratchy. 

“Didn’t you just buy some a few days ago?” He asks, head cocked to the side entirely too cutely as his brows draw together in confusion. You’re pretty sure you’re swooning and you look away before he can catch you. 

“Yeah but she decided it wasn’t good enough so here I am.” You laugh awkwardly. You wish the conversation flowed easier and you weren’t stuck only talking to him about either you stalking people or cat food. 

The air around you turns stale as silence settles between you and you twitch nervously. The silence is unbearable and you wish to fill it. “Will you help me?” You ask, once again falling into the trap of cat food as a topic. 

“Sure.” He gives you an easy smile, motioning for you to follow him to the specific aisle. Maybe you should just break out of this cycle by asking him out. Surely you’ll think of something to talk about besides cat food or stalking if you’re away from the places you associate them with. 

“Do you want to get coffee or something sometime?” You ask him, your words blurring together into a messy sentence as the words tumble too quickly out of your mouth. It takes him a minute to piece together what you asked and in that minute you regret your decision even more. Surely he’ll say no. 

“I’d love to.” He giggles, his boxy smile so wide his eyes scrunch a little as his cheeks push against them. Your eyes widen in surprise as you’d been preparing yourself for what you thought to be an inevitable ‘no’ and that only makes Taehyung smile wider-if possible. “You’re so cute.” He coos, tapping a finger against the tip of your nose as you continue to stare at him dumbfounded. Maybe you should have a little more faith in yourself if someone like Taehyung said yes to you. 

“Thanks.” You murmur, cursing yourself internally for being so shy. How has this man reduced you to a bashful mess with a single compliment? You’re sure if you looked in the mirror you probably wouldn’t even recognize yourself. Y/n without a witty remark? Unheard of. Maybe this is the change you need though, maybe this you is better?

“if you want to wait around for five minutes my shift ends and then we can go?” Taehung asks and you just nod, your brain trying to process the fact that you’ll be going on a date in five minutes with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. Looking down at yourself you freeze realizing you’re about to go on a date in sweatpants and one of Jimin’s old hoodies from high school. You look like you just rolled out of bed. 

Five minutes isn’t even enough time to get to your apartment though and you sigh, resigning yourself to looking frumpy. Grabbing whatever cat food is nearest- what kind of food Kimchi would like is the last thing on your mind-  you busy yourself at the register, chatting with a guy named Soobin. He winks at you when Taehyung rounds the corner to get you, his apron gone and revealing his Celine t-shirt. “You ready to go?” He asks, coming up beside you. Nodding in response, he places a hand on the small of your back before gently pushing you forward and you fiddle with the rings on your fingers to distract yourself from the heat crawling up the back of your neck and across your cheeks. 

You instantly recognize the cafe he takes you to and smile to yourself, already anticipating seeing a familiar tuft of icy blonde hair- another one of your hair dye experiences. Taehyung- ever the gentleman- opens the door for you and you give him a soft smile in thanks. When you look back to the counter Yoongi is giving you a quizzical look and you shake your head slightly as a signal not to ask. That doesn’t deter him from scanning you and Taehyung, his eyes lingering on the way Taehyung’s arm wraps around your waist. You don’t remember him doing that. “Yoongi!” Taehyung yells and you turn to him in surprise. He knows Yoongi? Yoongi has always kept a pretty tight circle so you can’t help but be baffled by this newly discovered friendship. You’ve never heard him mention someone named Taehyung before. 

“Ahh hi Taehyung.” Yoongi smiles, this time shaking his head at you slightly. You guess it’s only fair since you told him not to ask as well no matter how much you itch to question him. You’ve always been nosey, it’s something you and Jimin bonded over. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” Yoongi continues, looking to you briefly to see if you register the bone he threw you. Ahh they must be old friends that lost touch. 

“Yeah I haven’t seen you since winter break in Daegu. You always ghosted me when I asked to hang out.” Taehyung pouts. 

“I told you I’ve been busy. I’ve had a lot going on, my roommate is always getting into trouble. Speaking of which, how is he?” Yoongi turns his full attention to you and you give him a pitiful smile as you can see the hurt in his eyes. It’s no secret Yoongi has always had a soft spot for Jimin and their fight must’ve been really hard on him too. You hope he had someone to lean on the way Jimin did you. 

“He’s reached acceptance. I think he’s finally trying to actually get over her. He’s been staying with me this whole time. You can stop by later if you want?” You offer, completely unaware of the way Taehyung’s eyes flicker between you and Yoongi to try and discern your relationship. He’s never heard about you either. Min Yoongi sure has a lot of secrets. 

“I’ll let him come to me. He might think I’m ambushing him or something if I come over.” Yoongi shrugs albeit sadly. Your heart aches at seeing him so dejected and you place your hand over his own. 

“He wants to apologize, he did the first night. He’s just working up the courage.” It’s the only solace you can offer him at the moment but you hope it’s enough to make him feel even a little better. “I don’t think he’ll take much longer, he’s probably getting sick of me.” You laugh, grinning when you see Yoongi crack a tiny smile. 

“Sounds good. Now head to the pick up counter, I punched in your drinks a while ago. It’s not like either of you get anything different anyways.” 

“Thanks Yoon! I’ll buy you lamb skewers next time we hang out.” You tell him, leaving the register with Taehyung trailing you. 

“So how do you two know each other?” Taehyung asks, sipping on his strawberry smoothie. 

“We met when I made the mistake of taking philosophy at nine a.m. a couple semesters ago. We really bonded while suffering together and then he became roommates with my best friend and we formed an unbreakable trio.” You take a rather large sip of your caramel macchiato, needing a drink after speaking probably the longest sentence you ever have to Taehyung. Progress- sad progress because you’ve never had this problem before but progress nonetheless. “How do you know Yoongi?” 

“We grew up together in Daegu. Next door neighbors and everything.” Taehyung smiles like he’s reminiscing in things you don’t know about but one day you hope to hear more if for nothing but to hear his voice- although some embarrassing childhood memories to blackmail Yoongi with would be nice.

“Yoongi’s emo phase must’ve been an experience.” You snort only to freeze when you realize you just made probably the most unattractive noise in existence. You’re pretty sure you hear Yoongi cackle at your embarrassment. 

“He actually didn’t have one.” Taehyung whispers almost like it’s a secret and you can’t help the gasp that leads your lips. 

“What?” You exclaim, placing a hand over your mouth. Your whole friendship has been a lie! “But he’s so angsty!” 

“That’s because he bottles up his feelings.” Taehyung says and you remember another reason you and Yoongi got so close. You’re practically the same person when it comes to feelings and expressing them- in fact it’s one of the reasons you can read each other so well. “I just wish he’d reveal his soft side more often.” 

“That’s why he’s my favorite tsundere.” You giggle, winking at Yoongi when you catch him glaring at you from behind the counter. You could tell he was listening in on you and Taehyung’s conversation- he was wiping the same spot on the pickup counter for two minutes-  and you know he hates nothing more than being compared to a tsundere. Though you theorize it’s only because it’ll out him as a weeb. Not that his one piece set displayed in the living room of the apartment gives it away or anything. ‘I hate you’ he mouths when you look in his direction again and you only laugh, giving him a finger heart to placate him before turning back to your date. 

Taehyung is just smiling at you, his gaze flicking to the window to try and hide the fact he was admiring you. It was nice to see that he was the one getting bashful for once as you watch roses cluster along his cheeks. He really is so cute. “You’re cute.” You tell him, happy at the way his eyes widen at your sudden boldness. It’s only brief however as he gives you a flirty smirk in return. 

“Just cute?” He asks, leaning forward to look you dead in the eyes, enjoying the way you struggle to maintain eye contact. 

“Yes.” You whisper with a final flicker of confidence, immediately regretting your poor attempt to tease him as he leans in further, his face a few inches from your own. 

“Let’s change that, yeah?” Your breath hitches at him being so close, close enough that you find yourself looking at the small mole under his eye and following it down to the mole on his nose before finally landing on the one on his lower lip. Your eyes linger on his lips, which look much to kissable for you to turn your attention away from. They’re soft and pink, moistened by his tongue that slips out to brush across his bottom lip, dragging your attention back up to his eyes that flicker from your gaze to your own lips. You pinch your bottom one between your teeth as the tension brews between you two. Taehyung reaches a hand out to fall gently on your cheek, releasing your bottom lip from its hold with his thumb. Once it’s free he wastes no time to press his lips to your own and you sigh into him. You could get used to this. 

Nothing can ruin your mood, not even a certain bambi, as you skip up the two flights of stairs to your apartment building. With slightly mussed hair and kiss swollen lips, you’re entirely too giddy for your own good. You’re in the midst of digging around in your bag for your keys when you feel something wet against your leg. Instantly you scream, jumping away from whatever just touched you and relaxing only when you notice it’s a little black Puggle. “Oh hello.” You giggle, bending down to pet the puppy. It wriggles in excitement, jumping out of your outstretched arms almost like a fish out of water. Finally managing to wrangle it into your lap you check for a collar only to find none. Shrugging, you take the puppy into your apartment, resolving to notify the office about the lost dog so they can alert the other residents and hopefully its owner. In the meanwhile though, you have a puppy to play with! An annoyed meow sounds from the couch and you cringe when Kimchi glares at you. 

“Sorry Kim, this is only temporary.” You try and console her, attention diverted when the puppy barks at you. “Hi sweetheart.” You coo, rubbing her belly as she happily melts into you. “Your owner should really invest in a collar.” You sigh, hoping that whoever they are will realize they’re missing a pet soon. As cute as you think this little puppy is you’re not equipped to care for it. 

You must play with the dog for twenty minutes before it knocks out, snoring lightly on your furry rug. Kimchi watches curiously from the couch and you can’t tell whether she wants to befriend or attack it. Your door frame rattles and you sigh, leaning your head against the couch cushion as your neighbor wakes up the sleeping puppy, “Lucy!” You hear someone yell, a slew of curses following as they run around the hall. Their footsteps are heavy enough that it startles the puppy, causing it to run to the door and bark incessantly. 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” You try and soothe, pausing as the footsteps halt suddenly followed by a frantic pounding on your door. Kimchi- fully alarmed- runs into your bedroom for cover as you stare at your shaking front door, the puppy in your arms. After taking a deep breath you calm your nerves, pulling the door open only to get punched in the face. “What the hell?” You yell, almost dropping the dog as you raise a hand to your now bruised nose. 

“I’m so sorry!” A voice, you now realize is Namjoon’s, says frantically. “I was just about to knock on the door again and I was already in motion. I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” 

You close your eyes and inhale- for both a piece of sanity because this is the most Namjoon thing you’ve ever witnessed and also because your nose hurts so bad you could cry- and slowly open your eyes to look at the assailer. “Hi Joonie.” Is the only thing you can say. Your day only gets worse as an annoyingly familiar figure rounds the corner. How can such a beautiful day turn into a nightmare? If you didn’t know any better you’d think you were the oc for someone’s story. 

“Why do you have my dog?” He yells in an odd mixture of confusion and irritation. 

“This is your dog?” You ask, ignoring the way your nose is throbbing. 

“If it wasn’t, would I refer to it as my dog?” Jungkook asks, his tone nothing short of condescending as he knocks against your forehead, knuckles barely brushing against the bridge of your nose but causing you to wince all the same. Jungkook pauses for a second, his hand hovering above your face as an expression you could almost discern as concern crosses his features. It’s gone in a moment, almost like a blip, before being replaced with smugness. “Did you run into a door or something? This is what you get for being a thief.” He snickers, moving to take the puppy out of your hand before you shield it away from him with your body. 

“Namjoon punched me in the face. Also your dog ran away and came to me, I didn’t steal it. And I’m not a thief, I’ve told you a thousand times it was an accident!” 

“He what?” Jungkook yells, spinning on his heels to face Namjoon in anger. His hands clench at his sides causing the veins running down his forearms to pop, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. He’s glaring at the taller boy, his body almost teeming with rage. Such a shame someone so pretty has such an awful personality. 

“He ran away. You should try being a better owner so he doesn’t flee at first chance. Also have you ever heard of a collar? It’s a great way to let other people identify your dog.” You scold, scratching the dog’s head as you do so. 

“That’s not-whatever. Besides she’s a girl; her name is Lucy. And I did get her a collar it’s just a little too big right now but she’s not even supposed to really go outside before she gets all her shots.” Jungkook says, this time reaching forward too quick for you to avoid, snatching Lucy out of your hands before you can even think to counter his attack. 

“My baby!” You cry, strangely attached to the little creature even though you’ve barely spent half an hour with her. 

“I’m right here.” Jungkook winks, cackling as you proceed to gag. 

“Tell me, does your neck ever hurt from your head being shoved so far up your own ass?” He cackles again and you’re sure if you were a cartoon you’d have smoke coming out of your ears. You’ll probably have to go to the doctor after this with the way he’s raising your blood pressure. You’ve never met someone so infuriating. 

“Does your ass ever hurt from the stick that’s up it?” Jungkook retorts and you scowl.

“At least my pet didn’t run away from me.” 

“She didn’t! I wasn’t even home when Namjoon lost her.”

“You’re saying you lost her but all I’m hearing is she ran away.” 

“Whatever thief. What do you know?” He scoffs and you scoff in return. 

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Bambi.”

“I’m just gonna go.” Namjoon says clearly uncomfortable with the tension surrounding you and Jungkook. You almost feel a little bad before you remember he literally punched you in the face. “I can’t believe you made Namjoon so uncomfortable he had to leave.” 

“Me? You’re the one who started it.” Jungkook scoffs. 

“I did not! You accused me of stealing your dog!” 

“Because you’re a thief! How many times do I have to tell you!” 

“Whatever Bambi, what do you know?” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Call me bambi one more time.” He growls and you smirk. 

“But I think bambi really suits you. You have bambi eyes and everything.” You grin at the way he grits his teeth, taking a step forward to lessen the gap that stands between the two of you. He’s probably less than a foot away at this point and you notice he has a mole below his bottom lip. 

“Shut up.” He says, his usually light voice taking on a deep and gravelly tone. Your mind buffers for a moment at the sound and you momentarily forget where you are. It’s like he hypnotized your or something. 

“Make me.” You press, your breath hitching as you watch something flicker in his eyes too fast for you to catch. Lucy barking breaks the two of you out of your standoff and you both turn to watch as she proceeds to pee all over Jungkook’s arm. You can’t help but giggle as he grimaces in disgust. “Serves you right.” You sing, reaching over to give Lucy a scratch on the head. 

“Whatever. At least I don’t do an ugly middle part every day.” He scoffs and you shrug. 

“At least I don’t smell like dog piss.” With the final word secured you close the door, only to reopen it for a second. “Don’t forget to clean the carpet!” 

When Jimin returns with a guilty smile and a box of taco bell you immediately grow suspicious, though you can already guess what he’s about to say. Jimin doesn’t have any hookups at taco bell so he even paid for once which means he must be moving out but doesn’t want to you to be sad. It’s a little too late for that as you immediately deflate, the loneliness you didn’t know you felt before Jimin moved in returning. “You and Yoongi made up?” You ask though it’s really just confirmation. 

“Yeah we did. I told him I’d come back later today.” Jimin’s voice drips in misplaced guilt, for he really has no reason to feel bad for moving back home. You knew this would only be temporary. 

“I’m so happy for you!” You say, making sure to raise your voice to convey a happier tone. You really are glad they worked it out but you’ll miss him. Looking around your apartment the plants seem a little less homey than normal. Maybe you should invest in a pet for real. Lucy from next door pops into your head and you smile. “I made a new friend next door so I won’t be lonely without you.” 

Jimin gasps over-dramatically, placing a hand over his heart like you just stabbed him. “You’ve replaced me with Jeon Jungkook??” He asks and your eyes widen at the insinuation. Like you’d replace Jimin with anyone, especially Jeon Jungkook. 

“Eww gross, like I’d even think of befriending him.’ You scoff. 

“You’re like a little kid thinking their crush has cooties.” Jimin snickers and you glare at him. 

“He’ll infect me with his stupidity! He’s a clown Jimin, he literally got peed on by his own dog earlier!” You exclaim and Jimin only laughs. 

He hums for a minute before turning to you with a sly smirk. “You talk about him a lot you know? Got love on the brain?” Jimin teases, cackling at his own joke only to choke when you angrily shove a soft taco into his mouth. You grin at him wickedly when he turns to you, ignoring the way he returns his own glare. 

“More like hate on the brain.” You say, taking a bite of your own taco before turning on the tv. 

“There’s a fine line between love and hate you know? Also if I go into the bathroom and find a grease stain on my shirt I’m going to kill you.” Jimin goes so far as to flick your head with his warning, probably a small punishment for stuffing his face. In your defense it was the only way to get him to stop talking nonsense. 

“You can’t even strangle me with those baby hands.” You quip, giggling when Jimin flips you off. 

“I can’t believe I’ve lived with you for this long without going insane.” He huffs, feeding Kimchi-who has been beckoned by the smell of food- a piece of cheese. She grinds her teeth happily after swallowing it whole, sticking her head into the wrapper to try and find more morsels. 

“That’s because you loveee me.” You sing, sending Jimin a heart and a flying kiss. As much as he detests it, he’s a sucker for large displays of affection. His cheeks turn a soft cherry pink as he shoves your shoulder a little too hard, making you topple over from your spot on the floor. The taco comes flying out of your hand, the remnants scattering as Jimin struggles to capture Kimchi before she can feast on the fallen taco. You sigh at the inevitable stain you’ll have to clean from all the grease but turning to the chaos that’s behind you- Kimchi is half wrapped around Jimin’s neck like a boa constrictor as he holds her to him to prevent her escape- you can’t help but miss it already. 

Returning from your trip to Jimin and Yoongi’s apartment-somehow he collected more stuff than he brought with him in his short stay at your apartment and needed help carrying everything back- you run into Taehyung. “Tae?” You ask and he gives you the same expression. 

“Y/n? You live here?” He asks equally as surprised and confused to see you. It’s a similar feeling to when you see a teacher out in public. 

“Yeah. Do you?” 

“No I was just visiting some friends of mine.” He says, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels as the two of you stare at each other. “Hey did you know your nose is turning purple?” 

“Huh?” You ask until you piece together that you must be beginning to bruise. Thank you Kim Namjoon. “Oh yeah I just got hit in the face.” You laugh, consciously covering your nose with your hand. 

“You should ice it. Have you done that already?” Taehyung steps forward, placing a hand on your wrist to gently pry your hand away from the offending object (ie. your nose). 

“No.” You sigh because really that should’ve been the first thing you did but instead you wasted time arguing with Jeon Jungkook. Your nose is probably going to be super swollen and purple by tomorrow. 

“Let’s get some ice for it, yeah? You should really take better care of yourself.” He laughs, taking your hand and leading you towards the elevators. You don’t know if a bruised nose needs two people’s attention but it’ll be nice to come home to something other than silence. “What floor?” 

“Two, but we can just take the stairs.” You tell him, changing his direction to the stairwell on the opposite side of the building. He follows you quietly to your apartment, looking around the walls like he’s trying to find something specific. 

“I’ve never come this way before. My friends always take the elevator.” He says, pausing beside you when you reach your door. 

“Two flights of stairs isn’t too bad for me. Plus elevators make me nervous, there’s something about plummeting to your death in a tiny box that freaks me out.” You shrug, letting him inside before closing the door behind you. 

“It’s like a whole garden in here!” Taehyung exclaims, spinning in a circle to take in the various potted and hanging plants that lie around your living room. You twist your rings as you watch him take it all in, worried he might find your plant obsession excessive or weird. You just really like the look of it and it’s nice to take care of something. 

“Yeah, I might’ve got a little too carried away at the plant nursery.” You laugh, watching as Taehyung brushes his fingers along random leaves. 

“I tried to take care of a plant once and I couldn’t even get it to sprout.” When he turns to you his eyes are filled with awe and you ease up a little bit. 

“It takes a lot of work but it’s pretty calming for me. It’s nice to have something that relies on you to take care of it.” 

“I get the feeling. That’s why I have Tannie. You wanna see him?” Taehyung asks excitedly, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. Nodding, you take the phone from him and observe the tiny dog practicing tricks in the video. It’s a mainly black Pomeranian, brown tufts of fur on its belly and legs with two angry brown eye brows that make you laugh. 

“He takes after you with the strong brows.” You say making Taehyung laugh. 

“You know what they say, dogs always look like their owners.” Your mind drifts to the black Puggle next door and it’s fake wire-framed glasses wearing owner. You guess they both have a rather cute boopable nose. “Now about your nose…” Taehyung says, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

“Right!” Taking ice out of the freezer you place it into a tiny ziplock while Taehyung grabs the kitchen towel hanging off the oven handle to wrap it with. 

“So you need to do twenty minutes on and twenty off. I could keep you company if you want?” You nod your head quickly at his offer, gesturing for him to make himself comfortable. 

“Do you want anything to drink or eat? I have popcorn and other snacks.” 

“How about we eat popcorn and watch a movie?” He suggests. 

“Great idea.” You’re about to grab the box of popcorn from one of the top shelves of the pantry when Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder stops you. 

“Let me do it. Don’t want you to hurt yourself any further.” He teases, ushering you out of your own kitchen. Walking back to the couch you watch him as he fumbles around your kitchen to find the bowls, giggling as he opens the same cupboard three times. You’re about to tell him its location when he finally finds it, cheering as if he’s won some kind of prize. With the popcorn made and your fridge raided for drinks he rejoins you at the couch while you pull up netflix. 

“What do you want to watch?” 

“How about a nature documentary?” He suggests and you just smile and nod despite the fact that you’re going to be fighting the urge to fall asleep for the next two hours. Oh what you’ll do for a pretty boy. 

After spending one day alone in your apartment after classes you decide you no longer enjoy having nothing to come home to. You’re not quite sure how you used to do this just fine because now the silence is almost unbearable. You could go over to Jimin and Yoongi’s apartment but all your stuff is here and you can’t exactly just invite yourself over. Well judging by how many times Jimin has done that to you you probably could but it just feels weird. You also don’t think you can sit through another nature documentary with Taehyung despite how much you like him. You could barely stay awake last time, the twenty minute alarms the only thing keeping you from drifting off. Plus you had to watch not only animals kill and eat each other- while a necessary part of the circle of life, you don’t particularly enjoy watching life leave something. And most disturbingly, there was a whole segment on spiders and you hate spiders. Which leaves you with only one option: Lucy. 

On your way home from your last lecture you go to the nearest pet store, picking out a little pink collar with cherries decorating it and a pink leash. Maybe you’ve gone a little overboard with the pink aesthetic- you may have been eyeing a pink onesie because you’ve always wanted an animal that lets you dress it- but the idea of e-boy Jungkook walking around his pink accessorized puppy makes you laugh. You bet the collar he bought her has spikes or skulls. With the presents in hand, you stop at Jungkook’s door knocking in a small tune. 

The door opens and instead of Jungkook you’re met with Seokjin. “Oh hi, is Jungkook home?” You ask hesitantly. “I uhh brought stuff for Lucy.” You bring the bag in front of you to show him like it’ll validate why you’re here. You can’t have people thinking you came just for him. 

“He just went out to meet the postmate guy but he’ll be back in a few minutes if you want to wait for him inside?” Seokjin steps aside to let you enter, ushering you onto the couch before getting you water. 

“I heard Jimin and Yoongi finally made up.” Seokjin comments and you nod somewhat sadly. 

“Yeah he moved out yesterday.” 

“Being alone again must be a little lonely huh? Is that why you’re here? Not that I don’t mind you stopping by but it’s not like we’re very close or anything.” 

“I missed Lucy.” You tell him. “But yeah it has been a little lonely. If you don’t mind me asking how do you know Yoongi?” 

“We used to TA a biology class together. And I met Jimin when I was helping them move in but I don’t see him very often. He really only asks me to bring him food when he’s too lazy to cook.” Seokjin says. 

“Yeah he’ll do about anything for free food.” You laugh and Seokjin smiles. 

“It’s nice to know that you’re actually pretty sweet. I was worried you were just a hothead after listening to Jungkook whine about you incessantly.” Seokjin laughs and you look at him curiously. 

“Jungkook talks about me?” 

“All the time. Anyways, I’m always looking for new friends so I can learn more secrets so feel free to stop by whenever. I’m sure Kookie wouldn’t mind seeing you around more often.” He winks and you’re entirely too confused to fake a gag. 

“But he hates me?” 

“That’s his charm. He has that whole ‘I want to fight you but also kiss you’ vibe. Or so I’ve heard anyways. I just get embarrassing child vibes from him personally but I’ve also seen him in a Pikachu onesie singing the pokemon theme song too many times at 2 a.m. to see him as any less.” Before you have time to even process what Seokjin has just told you the door opens and you immediately stand up startled, the bag of goodies for Lucy falling off your lap and spilling onto the floor. 

Jungkook pauses in the door way, his eyes the widest you’ve seen so far. The Wendy’s bag crunches as he clutches it tighter and the two of you stare at each other like you’re waiting for the other to make the first move. “I brought stuff for Lucy. To make sure she’s getting properly cared for.” You hurry feeling like you need an excuse to come over. Seokjin laughs under his breath from beside you. 

“First a thief then a trespasser. Am I going to have to report you?” Jungkook asks and you scowl, crossing your arms across your chest. Just who does he think he is? 

“Seokjin let me in.” You say stepping aside to reveal Jin who was watching the whole encounter unfold with a grin. His eyes glint with mischief when you turn to him and suddenly you’re afraid of his power. How many secrets does he know? Will he figure out yours? 

“I thought we agreed not to invite random people in?” Jungkook sighs, almost like he’s scolding Seokjin. You frown. You’re supposed to be enemies, does that not mean anything to him? 

“She’s not random. She’s my new best friend!” Seokjin yells directly into your ear making you wince before throwing an arm around your shoulder. You’re too busy looking at Seokjin confusedly to notice the way someone else’s eyes linger a little too long on the arm wrapped around you. 

“Whatever. Just don’t talk to me.” Jungkook grumbles stalking towards his room when you speak up. 

“But you’re the one talking to me?” You ask making him stop in his tracks and turn around to face you again. That’s when you notice the frosty in his hand that’s half melted and now running down the side of the cup and down his hand. “Did you postmate a frosty?” You ask, genuinely concerned with why he chose that when it’d be undoubtably half melted in the forty minutes it takes delivery. 

“Maybe.” He says skeptically and you give him your best ‘are you stupid?’ expression because you have eyes and it’s literally in his hand. 

“Did you not realize it would be melted by the time you got it?” You tease, a smirk pulling at your lips when he falters in coming up with a witty remark. 

“Shut up.” He groans, turning back around and opening his bedroom door. A flash of black rushes past him and straight towards you and you can only cheer in glee when Jungkook sighs in exasperation. “Betrayed by my own dog.” He whines to himself as he leans against the door frame to watch you play with Lucy. 

“Hi baby!” You coo, sitting down on the floor to hold her as she gives you as many kisses as possible. Giggling you fall back so you’re lying down, holding her up above you so it looks like she’s flying. Her little paws move rapidly as she attempts to get back to you, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she whines. “Sorry, sorry.” You chuckle, placing her back down on your stomach. Jumping off you, the bag catches her attention and she busy’s herself by climbing inside of it. Her head pops up with the bag still attached and you can’t help but laugh as she raises up on her hind legs and uses her paws to try and take it off herself. Snapping a quick picture, your airdrop it to Jungkook and Seokjin before taking it off her head. 

“You wanna see the stuff I got you?” You ask, not sure what type of answer you were anticipating in response. You take her snort as a yes and show her the collar first. “You’re gonna look so cute in this. Plus I made sure it’s the right size.” You look pointedly at Jungkook who has moved from his position by the door to the kitchen counter where he snacks on his fries and commits the crime that is dipping them in his frosty. He looks away when he catches your gaze, face flushed a soft pink as he returns his attention to his phone. Bummed by his lack of response you focus on putting the tiny collar around her neck. The little cherry charm jingles as she shakes her head for a moment to adjust before she licks your hand in what you assume to be thanks. 

“Jin look! Isn’t she so cute?” You hold her up to your face while showing off the new collar to Jin who claps in delight. 

“I live for the pink aesthetic. She’s gonna be a doggy icon.” He cheers making you laugh. 

“Only the best for my little Lucy. What do you think bambi?” You ask, turning to Jungkook who makes an OJO face, his phone pointed in your direction. You wonder what he was doing but brush it off to just him being weird. He’s probably looking for more pokemon onesies or something.

“Not too bad thief, not bad at all.” 

When you return home to your apartment after visiting your neighbors turned new friends- excluding Jungkook who is teetering on the upgrade to frenemy because he actually wasn’t entirely awful- you feel light and airy. You’re almost as giddy as you were the day you came back from your date with Taehyung. Speaking of Taehyung you should probably text him or something, you haven’t really texted today. Though you’re feeling too lazy to text out an entirely conversations worth of words so you settle for calling him instead. 

“Hey Y/n.” He says, surprising you for picking up on the first ring. 

“Hey Tae. How was your day?”

“It was really good! I spent the whole day taking pictures of plants and stuff for my assignment. Your apartment really inspired me to capture the less sentient lives that intersect our own.” He says, voice so cheery you can practically see the smile you know he dawns. 

“That’s really cool, you’ll have to send them my way after you’re done with them.” You say, glad that you could be of some help. He did ask you to be his muse after all. 

“How’s your nose?” He asks and you pause when you realize you completely forgot about the bruise on your nose. In fact when you got ready this morning you didn’t even notice. Standing up from the couch you look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror surprised to see it’s only a small purple mark. 

“There’s only a small bruise. I actually forgot I had it so I guess it’’s pretty good.” You laugh, opting to sit on the bathroom counter instead. 

“That’s good, I was worried about it. Hey I was going to visit my friend’s dance recital tomorrow if you want to come? He’s been telling me it’s really good.” 

“Sure thing. What time should I be ready by?” You ask mind already alternating between different possible outfits. You’ll need to look extra good while standing next to Taehyung while also looking casual enough that it’s not too much for a campus recital. You haven’t been to one since your ex’s last showcase a year ago. 

“How about seven? You can help me look for a nice bouquet to give him afterwards. Since you’re a plant expert and everything.” 

“I don’t know if I’d call myself an expert but sure. I’ll meet you outside my apartment?” You start to grow nervous as you realize you’ll need to come up with conversation starters so the conversation doesn’t lull. You wish you were better at talking to him. 

“See you then. Goodnight Y/n.” 

“Goodnight Tae.” Hanging up, you lean your head against the mirror and close your eyes, focusing on trying to lower your heart rate. You hope the more you spend time with Taehyung the easier it gets. 

You’re panicking. Mostly because it’s 6:30 pm and you’re still not dressed. You hate your entire closet, nothing is good enough to wear. Your clothes are strewn across your bedroom and you’re pretty sure you could cry. You’ve at least done your hair and makeup when you were still happy with your previous outfit but after looking at it one too many times you picked it apart. A knock on your door startles you and you pray to God that it’s not Taehyung who’s arrived early. You sigh in relief at the sight of Jungkook, your nerves easing as you focus on the bright pink leash he’s holding and the squirming puppy at your feet. 

“Hey thief we’re going to get something to eat on a walk and after you nearly burned down the kitchen this morning I thought I’d invite you. I don’t feel like smelling burnt eggs through the vent for the rest of the day.” He says nonchalantly like he can’t see your frazzled state. 

“Sorry bambi but I can’t. I have a date to get ready for and I can’t figure out what to wear.” You sigh, leaning down to give Lucy a few scratches after she barks at you for attention. 

“A date?” Jungkook asks, his voice cracking a little in surprise. He clears his throat as you snicker.

“Yeah. Hey do you think he’d hate me if I just showed up in this oversized tee like a VSCO girl because I think If I look at my closet one more time I’ll actually cry.” You half joke half genuinely ask because you’re so frustrated. 

“I mean nothing you wear can make you less ugly.” He offers and you glare at him. 

“Thanks. That’s really just what I needed. I don’t know why I even bothered to ask.”  You deadpan, moving to close the door on him when he shoves his foot between it and the frame to stop it. 

“I mean- you know that mini skirt you have? Tuck your shirt into that and wear some docs or something and you’ll look uhh reasonable. I uhh saw a girl wearing something similar earlier and it was cute.” He says, his words slurring a little in his panic to redeem himself and you crack the door open a little to look at him. 

“Thanks bambi, I’ll try it. I dig the pink leash by the way, really makes you look badass.” You giggle, closing the door to drown out his shout of protest. 

Turns out bambi does have somewhat of a fashion sense because after trying on his suggested outfit you don’t hate it which is enough for you at this point. Checking the time you realize you only have a few minutes left to make any finishing touches before you need to meet Taehyung downstairs. Checking your eyeliner wings one last time and spraying on perfume you hurry down the stairs and outside, tapping your foot anxiously as you wait for Taehyung. You hope you look okay. 

“You look great.” Taehyung’s deep voice says from behind you, his arms encircling your waist as you turn around to face him. You look away bashfully once again reminded what a shy, nervous mess he turns you into. 

“You do too.” You’re not just saying that to be polite, Taehyung truly does look good. Though when does he not? There’s something so effortlessly beautiful about him that you’re envious of. You wish someone would see you like that. 

“All set to go?” Taehyung asks before linking your arms when you say yes. You wind up back at the familiar market where you and Jungkook first met. You laugh a little to yourself when you notice the row of aloe vera plants lined up on the top shelf. To your right is the flower section for those last minute bouquets and you turn your focus to them and Taehyung instead. 

“I like this one.” You pick up a bouquet of sunflowers and show them to him. The flowers are a little on the smaller side since it’s just the beginning of their season but they’re still happy and bright. “I think it just looks really joyful. Plus everyone buys roses.” 

Taehyung laughs at that, putting down the bouquet of roses he had in his hand. You squeeze your eyes closed when you realize you’ve accidentally made fun of his flower choice. 

“He’ll like it. He’s always calling himself the sun anyways.” Taehyung shrugs, heading to the register with you tailing behind. You’ve only known one person who called themselves the sun but surely it’s not him. There’s seven billion people in the world, surely it can’t be that small. 

Disregarding the hunch of who the flowers you picked out are for, you trot behind Taehyung and lace your hand with his own. He gives you a bright smile in return and a little squeeze, probably excited that he’s not the one initiating PDA for once. 

After paying he leads the way towards the campus event center which isn’t much farther of a walk. The closer you get the more you remember and it’s not that you and your ex didn’t end on a good note it’s more so just that you didn’t anticipate seeing him, much less going to his recital and picking out flowers for him. But you’re probably just jumping to conclusions. 

Getting settled into your seats, front and center, you relax a little. Taehyung’s hand is still in your own and to try and settle your nerves you focus on him- which you probably should be doing anyways since this is a date but your mind has never been good at sticking to one topic. “So how’d you get such great seats?” You ask before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for bringing me by the way.” 

“Of course. Oh, my friend is captain of the dance team and is a senior so he gets the best spots in the house. I only have to buy him food for the rest of the week as payment. I didn’t feel like waiting in line and getting a crappy spot.” 

“Understandable. But if you’re buying food anyways feel free to send some my way.” You wink and Taehyung sighs. 

“Once again I’m getting used for free stuff.” He cries dramatically and you giggle. “But since you’re my muse I guess it’s okay.” He says suddenly serious, taking your surprise to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Taehyung!” You scold, lightly slapping his chest. "You can’t just catch me off guard like that.” 

“Sure I can. You’re cute when you get embarrassed.” That only causes your embarrassment to heighten and he grins, placing another kiss against your lips. 

“You suck.” You pout despite not really meaning it. 

The lights dim and you both quiet down, turning away from each other to look up at the stage. It’s a lyrical piece first to a song you’ve never heard before but it’s pretty. As the lone harp melody plays a figure emerges from the darkness into the center spotlight only to be joined by several other people as the beat hits. Their movements are fluid like water, their shadows casted elegantly against the back wall of the stage. When the performance ends you can’t help but applaud- though you really are supposed to wait until the end to avoid disrupting performances. “That was so cool!” You whisper to Taehyung who smiles brightly at you. 

“My friend choreographed it!” He whispers back, pride for his friend’s achievement seeping in his words. It’s cute. You both fall silent again as the other pieces are performed only resuming conversation once the show is in intermission.

“Your friend is really talented.” You tell Taehyung, unable to get the performance out of your head. It’s a shame it was the very first one as it’s outshined the rest for you. 

“You’ll have to tell him when we see him later. I heard they’re selling snacks out front, do you want any?” He asks. 

“I can get them if you want? Since you got the tickets and everything.” 

“Sure, I’l just wait for you here. If they have any sweets can you get me some?” He asks. 

“Sure thing. Be right back.” You smile, about to get up when he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Hurry back.” He winks and if it were anyone else you’d roll your eyes. 

You huff in annoyance at the rather long line, texting Taehyung that it might be awhile before opening up a piano game on your phone. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Yoongi’s voice startles you and you jump back. 

“Why do you not make noise when you move!” You ask. “This really supports the theory that you’re a vampire.” 

“If you compare me to Edward Cullen one more time I will kill you.” You quiet down at that, the image of Yoongi’s Katana hanging above his bed- another symbol of his weebiness- surfaces in your mind. You’d rather not get close and personal with it. 

“Noted. Anyways what’re you doing here?” 

“I get extra credit on one of my music assignments if I come. I don’t really see the point but hey that just means I can put in less effort later since I have a safeguard for my grade.” 

“It’s extra credit Yoongi not a free pass.” You snort, sighing when the line still hasn’t moved. 

“Why’re you here?” 

“I’m on a date.” You tell him before realizing your mistake. “Don’t tell Jimin, it’s not that serious yet and I-“ 

“Too late.” Yoongi says, pointing to Jimin coming your way. “Though Taehyung is not who I expected it to be with.” 

“How did you know it’s Taehyung?” You ask. 

“Know what’s Taehyung?” Jimin asks and you give Yoongi a pleading look. 

“Her date.” Yoongi says and you flip him off.

“You’re on a date and you didn’t tell me?” Jimin asks and when you turn to look at him you can’t tell whether he’s more annoyed or hurt. Either way you feel awful but Jimin has a tendency to get too attached to your boyfriends and when you and Hoseok broke up he was crushed. 

“We’ve only hung out a couple of times, it’s not that serious.” You try and console him but that only makes him even more upset. His nostrils flare and everything!

“A couple times! What happened to no secrets?” Jimin scolds and you feel even worse. 

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to get too attached if it doesn’t work out.” Like last time doesn’t need to be said for him to understand where you’re coming from and he sighs before running his hand through his hair. 

“Last time was on me but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know every aspect of your life.” 

“You know I can see why you and Jin get along so well. Do you share secrets?” You ask Jimin and when he falls silent Yoongi decides to re-enter the conversation. 

“Wait do you?” Yoongi asks. “If you told anyone about my One Piece set I’m going to kill you.” 

“Jimin I’d be careful, he threatened me with the Katana five minutes ago.” You warn and Jimin visibly pales. 

“I’ve only been talking to him about our ship. We just want our favorite emotionally stunted tsunderes to get together.” Jimin says causing you and Yoongi to turn to each other. 

“It’s about you.” You both say at the same time only to look offended at each other’s assumption. You’re both so offended that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to the front of the line until the volunteer interrupts your bickering. 

“What can I get you?” Scanning the table you see peanut butter m&m’s- only the best kind. 

“Uhh one bag of regular m&m’s and one peanut butter please.” You say because you’ve never asked if Taehyung has a peanut allergy. That’s probably an important thing to know. 

“One pack of oreos.” Yoongi says behind you followed by Jimin yelling for sour patch kids. 

“That’ll be $10.50” She tells you and sighing- seeing as you’ve been roped into paying for those leaches you call best friends- you hand over the cash. 

“You’re welcome.” You sneer while they smile sweetly at you. 

“You’re the best Y/n! Oh and don’t think you’ve gotten out of me meeting Taehyung. Bring him to the apartment Friday night for game night!” 

“Do I have to?” 

“You bring him to us or we come to you, your choice.” Jimin shrugs. 

“Fine.” You sigh once again bested by the tiny man with the tiny hands. 

When you get back to Taehyung intermission is practically over meaning you only have enough time to get settled in and give him his snack before the lights once again dim and the show starts. You almost forget about the fact that your ex is probably who you got flowers for until he appears in the final set as the lead of a hip hop dance. His eyes widen for a split second when he sees you in his search for Taehyung but he hides it like the professional he is and carries on with his best performance yet. Hoseok is just one of those people meant to dance. You loved his passion while you were dating and admire it still even after not really talking to him for a year. 

Taehyung didn’t notice the surprise on Hoseok’s face- probably because he wasn’t looking for it- and happily drags you backstage to find him. You’re a little surprised you can just walk back here with no one to stop you but you guess they’re all working on things to fix for tomorrow’s show and are too busy to worry about the two of you. 

You find Hoseok in the middle of his dance team crowded around him, his face all smiles as he redoes his favorite move for them. You can’t help but smile fondly at the scene, it reminds you so much of when you and Hoseok first met. It was your first and only hip hop class and he was the instructor. You thought he took extra interest in helping you because you were so terrible and he wanted you to exceed which was true but he also thought you were the cutest mess he’d ever seen. “Hobi!” Taehyung yells, gathering his older friend’s attention as Hoseok leaves the group of dancers to greet you. 

“Hey Tae.” He smiles, giving him that half-hug half-slap on the back that guys do. 

“We got you flowers! Y/n picked them out.” Taehyung smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back to push you more into the conversation. You’d been standing slightly behind Taehyung not sure what to say to Hoseok, that is if he even wanted to talk to you. 

“Ahh hey Y/n. You still know me so well huh?” He laughs, bringing the bouquet to his head. “Be honest, do I still look like them?” He asks and you roll your eyes with a smile. 

“Nah you look more like the one on the bottom that’s wilted and dying. I can’t believe you’re so old now.” You tease easily falling into your old rhythm. Hoseok was always bubbly and playful, an easiness surrounded him that always made you comfortable, even now it seems. 

“Hey it’s only been a year since we last saw each other, I’m only a year older!” He whines. 

“You guys knew each other?” Taehyung asks and you pause. How do you explain to your date that his friend is your ex without it being awkward?

“Yeah we’re old friends.” Hoseok says, seeming to read your uneasiness and giving you an easy out. You give him a grateful smile. 

“Yeah we just lost touch, though it’s good to see you again. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” You mean it. Hoseok was your first love, he was everything you could’ve asked for but eventually you two fell out of love and ended it mutually before you began to hate each other. You’ll always have a soft spot for him and it makes you happy to see he’s doing so well. 

“Yeah me too. I should’ve reached out sooner.” Hoseok tells you and you just shrug.  

“Maybe it was best we found each other again now. Though I wouldn’t mind being friends again.” 

“I’d like that. I missed my favorite tsundere.” Hoseok giggles and you groan. 

“Everyone keeps calling me that today.” You whine. 

“Tsundere? She’s much too shy and sweet for that don’t you think?” Taehyung asks completely confused about this whole interaction. You guess it makes sense because with Hoseok you were kinda like how you are with Jungkook. You’ve never been the bashful type until now. 

“Shy?” Hoseok asks and Taehyung nods. You nod in agreement and Hoseok hums looking between you both for a few moments. “What’d you think of the performance?” 

“The first one was great. I didn’t know you choreographed anything besides hip hop.” You tell him, grateful for the switch of topics. Hoseok is really saving you tonight. 

“Yeah I thought I’d try new genres and become a more well-rounded dancer.”Someone yells Hoseok’s name from across the room and you all turn to see a short girl wave brightly at him, a bouquet nearly as big as her in her arms. “I uhh gotta go but thanks for coming by.” Hoseok says with a slight blush on his cheeks before scurrying over to her. You can’t help but smile after him. You hope this one works out for him. 

“You ready to go?” Taehyung asks lacing his fingers in your own. 

“Yeah, I’m starving. Want to pick up something on the way back?” 

Taco bell in hand and a kiss goodbye you make your way back up to your apartment with a smile on your face. Today went much better than expected. Opening the door connected to your hallway you’re surprised to come face to face with Jungkook. So surprised that you take a step back and trip, beginning to fall backwards down the stairwell before strong arms wrap around your middle and bring you upright. His arm moves so one hand cradles your head and you both just stand there in shock as you process what just happened. You almost fell down the stairs and Jungkook caught you. You almost fell down the stairs!

“Don’t scare me like that!” You yell, pulling away to slap his rather firm chest. 

“How was I supposed to know you were on the other side!” He exclaims, 

“I almost died!” 

“You probably just would’ve gotten concussed but…hey I caught you! Where’s my thank you?” 

“You want me to thank you when you almost killed me??” You ask and Jungkook rolls his eyes. 

“You’re so dramatic. Also you uhh threw your taco bell and I’m pretty sure that’s a rat eating it.” 

“What?” You scream, jumping into his arms-not like you needed to though since they’re still wrapped tightly around you- hiding your face in his neck and trying not to picture that rat. You’re a bit of a hypochondriac so just the idea of what diseases the rat could be carrying is freaking you out. Jungkook only chuckles at you before reopening the door leading towards the hallway and carrying you towards your front door where you effectively release him. “You owe me dinner.” 

“Do I?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“You made me drop my taco bell and I haven’t had dinner yet.” You pout. 

“Do I always have to take care of you?” Jungkook sighs before unlocking his own front door and pulling you inside. 

“What do you mean take care of me? I’m just a random person remember?” You quip but Jungkook ignores you as he scours throw his fridge. “Bambi stop ignoring me.” You whine which finally gets his attention. 

“Sit thief.” 

“If thief is your attempt at an affectionate pet name I hope you know I hate it.” You tell him, moving to sit at the barstool anyways. 

“All the more reason to use it. Now thief, welcome to Jungkook’s ramen shop where we only serve the finest cup ramen. What flavor do you want?” 

“If this is a restaurant shouldn’t you be wearing one of those big white hats or something? Also chicken please.” 

“Boring choice but okay. Also I’m not wearing one of Jin’s stupid hats.” Jungkook says, turning on the kettle before moving to face you. 

“So you’re telling me he has one? Here… In this apartment?” You ask, eyes glinting with mischief. Jeon Jungkook will be wearing one of those stupid hats even if it’s the last thing you do. 

“I feel like if I say yes I’m going to regret it.” He tells you earnestly but you pay him no mind as you scour the kitchen looking for said hat. It’s not in the cupboards or pantry and you’re beginning to lose interest in finding it until you come across the linen closet in the hallway. You wouldn’t think it’s in there but the way Jungkook stiffens has your spidey senses tingling. With a flourish you open in the door exclaiming ‘aha!’ as you retrieve the item of your dreams along with an apron that says ‘kiss the cook’. 

“Since you’re preparing my food I need you to wear a hat. I don’t want to find a hair that’s not mine in my ramen.” 

“I’m not wearing that.” 

“Fine.” You say with a huff, placing the hat on the counter in front of you. “At least wear the apron?” You bat your lashes at him and he concedes, putting on the stupid thing with the frilly edges. Step one: complete. 

When Jungkook is busy pouring the boiling water in the cups and trying not to burn himself you sneak up behind him, the hat clutched between your fingers as your knees bend in preparation to jump on his back. While not the most conventional method he’s annoyingly kinda tall and if you can get above him you have a better chance of securing the hat onto his head and getting him to keep it there. As soon as the kettle is placed down onto the counter you attack, yelling out a war cry as you launch yourself onto him and almost falling off in laughter at the girlish scream that makes it past his throat. Lucy is barking from what you assume to be his room and the apartment is a madhouse as Jungkook teeters side to side with your legs wrapped around your face and your fingers trying to center the hat on his squirming head. 

“Stop moving!” You yell, accidentally bonking him square on the head with your fist. 

“Ow! Stop fucking hitting me!” He yells back, once again squirming beneath you. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you just stayed still! We could’ve avoided this if you had worn it in the first place.” You’re both too busy arguing to hear the footsteps of one of the other inhabitants of the apartment emerge from their bedroom but when you both spin around you’re surprised by Seokjin causally leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face. 

“Say cheese.” He smiles, blinding you with the flash before you can hide behind Jungkook’s head. “Jimin will love this.” He snickers and like Jungkook’s hair is a joystick for him to move you pull it forward to urge him to walk towards Seokjin. 

“Don’t you dare send that! He has enough blackmail material on me already!” You yell, your grip on Jungkook slipping as you attempt to stomp the ground only to realize mid-movement that you’re not actually on the ground. Thankfully Jungkook has faster reflexes then you and catches you before you can fully fly off his body, slamming your upper half into his back while his other hand slides higher up your thigh to secure you now around his hips. It takes you a moment to register that your leg is so warm where his hand is because there’s no fabric barrier and it takes another moment to realize your skirt has probably slid up an embarrassing amount. “Okay put me down, put me down.” You say, slapping Jungkook’s arm to force him into urgency. 

“Alright, alright.” He says before ungracefully dropping you onto your ass. 

“I hate you.” You tell him before straightening out your skirt. 

“What were you two even doing?” Seokjin asks and you sigh. 

“He won’t wear the stupid hat.” You grumble and Seokjin sighs. 

“Kookie wear the hat.” 

“Yeah bambi wear the hat.” When Jungkook is still adamant he won’t be wearing the hat you look up into their ceiling light dramatically before pouting. 

“Look Kook you made her sad.” Jin says, gesturing to you still staring into the light. 

“What’re you doing? You’re gonna make yourself go blind, stop.” Jungkook says but you hold up a hand to silence him. 

“Hang on I’m trying to make myself cry.” You tell him and Jungkook only chuckles. 

“You’re ridiculous. If I wear the hat will you stop?” Immediately you look over to him with watery eyes, blinking rapidly to try and get the annoying circles out of your vision. 

“Yes.” You grin, clapping as he adjusts it to sit lopsided on his head. That’s good enough for you as you jump up in glee. You’re too blind- really those spots just won’t fade away- to notice the almost fond smile Jungkook sends you. 

“You might as well take a picture. This is the only time you’re gonna see me like this.” Jungkook tells you and you grab your phone off the counter and point the camera at you. 

“Say I love you” You tease. 

“I hate you” Jungkook says and you giggle. All is right once again in the universe.

Friday finally comes along and you have a slight problem. You’ve been so busy with Jungkook and Lucy- you have to make sure she’s getting proper care and long walks- that you forgot you were supposed to invite Taehyung over to Jimin and Yoongi’s for game night. And now you’re frantically blowing his phone up at four p.m. hoping that he didn’t make plans already. Stupid Jungkook. Like the angels above have taken pity on you, Taehyung is thankfully free and fully okay with you dragging him to Jimin and Yoongi’s place. Per tradition, they provide the place and the drinks and you provide the snacks. Though you’ve been craving fried chicken lately so you’re someone tempted to bring over a whole meal instead. You’re still deep in contemplation when Taehyung arrives at your door, a bag of chips in his hand because he didn’t want to arrive empty handed. How thoughtful. 

“Do you think I should bring fried chicken?” You ask Taehyung, grabbing a few things before you leave for Jimin’s. 

“If you want to, I certainly wouldn’t mind.” 

“Friend chicken it is. Bambi was telling me about this place yesterday and apparently it’s really good.” You ramble, slipping on your shoes by the door. 

“Bambi?” Taehyung asks, following you once you’ve locked up. 

“Yeah, a friend of mine.” You tell him, eyeing the old taco bell stain in the stairwell. You hope the rats enjoyed your five dollars worth of tacos. 

“Is that their favorite movie?” Taehyung asks and you wonder why he’s so curious. Though you guess that’s not the most common nickname and maybe he’s just trying to get to know the people you hang out with. 

“No, they just have big doe eyes. They’re kinda pretty sometimes.” You shrug, not thinking too much about what you’re saying. 

“Hey my friend has eyes like that too! Though that’s a pretty common eye shape.” 

“Yeah but I’d be able to recognize this pair anywhere. They’re quite distinctive.” Taehyung just nods, probably getting bored talking about a pair of eyes he’s never seen on a person he doesn’t know. 

“Hey how come I’ve never really met any of your friends besides Hoseok? Are you hiding them from me?” You tease though you are a little curious. Sure he’s only meeting Jimin because Jimin basically forced you to do so but you’ve never even really heard him talk about his own friends. 

“More like I’m hiding you from them. You’re just too cute; they might slip up and fall in love with you or something.” You laugh and roll your eyes, shoving his arm lightly. 

“Yeah right.” You scoff, yelping when Taehyung nudges you to the side with his whole body in retaliation to your push. “You want to fight Taehyung?” You ask him, brow raised in challenge. 

“Bring it cutie.” He laughs running down the sidewalk a bit as you attempt to check him. “No fair! You can’t just run away.” You pout, placated by the soft kiss he presses to your forehead. You take the moment of weakness to push him, giggling as you run away in the direction of Jimin’s apartment building with Taehyung hot on your heels. 

There’s something unnerving about the way Jimin is observing you and Taehyung, a critical eye he’s never had before when you’ve introduced other guys. Normally he’s bubbly and warm, already giving them a hug like they’re his long lost friend but today he’s rather distant. It’s extra odd since he suggested you meeting but maybe Jimin is just feeling like playing the bad cop today. The doorbell rings and distracts you from observing Jimin who’s observing Taehyung as the boys watch you with anticipation. You’re pretty sure you can hear Yoongi’s stomach rumble as you answer the door while Taehyung heads to the bathroom. 

“Oh hey Namjoon.” You say, not quite expecting to see his face. You haven’t really seen him since he accidentally punched you- you almost get the feeling he’s been avoiding you since. 

“Oh hey Y/n.” He says sheepishly and you just give him an easy smile. 

“You haven’t been avoiding me have you? Joonie I’m not mad at you.” 

“You’re not?” He asks incredulously. 

“No. The bruise healed already by the way, it was pretty small.” 

“I’m so glad to hear it.” He breathes out, sounding pretty relieved. 

“Just for future reference, if it’s an accident I won’t get mad at you for it.” You tell him. 

“Good to know. Oh it’ll be $12.74. Half off for friends and family.” Namjoon smiles, a big one that makes his dimples pop out. 

“You’re too kind to me Joonie.” You say, making sure to tip him 50% just because. 

“You’re too kind to me.” He parrots but happily accepts, waving you goodbye before disappearing back into the hallway. Closing the door Taehyung reemerges from the back hallway and hurries over to give you a hand. 

Setting the food down on the coffee table the boys immediately dig in, not even giving you time to grab plates. Sitting between Taehyung and Jimin, you happily munch away and the four of you eat in silence as My First First Love plays on the tv. Despite Yoongi’s claims that it’s cliche, you’ve caught him watching it every time you come over. He even teared up a little at the bridge scene. 

When the wings are picked clean you ask Jimin to help you clean up solely to interrogate him from the safety of the kitchen. “Stop looking at Tae like that.” You whisper yell and doesn’t even look at you as he’s throwing the bones in the trash. 

“I’m just trying to see if he’s the right choice.” Jimin whispers back. 

“Right choice? You say that like there’s another option.” You say only to scoff. “Besides it’s my decision anyways.” 

“But my ship.” He whines and you sigh. 

“Just give him a chance okay? He’s really sweet and I want him to actually like you if this turns into something. Plus you’re the one who asked to meet him.” 

“You’re right.” Jimin sighs. “He did think to bring chips after all. Jungkook would never.” 

“Jungkook?” 

“Who’s ready to get whooped in Mario Kart?” Jimin yells leaving you to stand alone in the kitchen, utterly confused. What does Taehyung have to do with Jungkook? Shrugging it off you head back into the living room, your seat next to Taehyung now occupied by Jimin who has decided Taehyung is his new best friend. He even gave him the matching controller, something you and Yoongi had to earn. Sitting next to Yoongi, you lean your head on his shoulder as Jimin teaches Taehyung the rules of Mario Kart. 

“You good?” Yoongi murmurs as to not attract attention from the others, 

“Yeah Jimin just confused me is all. You like Taehyung right?” You ask. 

“Of course, he’s my friend. What’d Jimin say?” 

“Something about making sure Taehyung is the right choice. Whatever that means. And he mentioned Jungkook which just confused me.” 

“I think he meant that you just act very different around the two. From what I’ve seen you’re pretty meek around Tae and while it’s cute it’s a little out of nature for you. We’re just used to you being a spitfire is all.” Your mind drifts back to Hoseok’s shocked expression when Taehyung referred to you as shy. Was the you around Taehyung really so different? Sure you were more nervous and struggled to think of what to say and were half as snarky as usual but that’s not a bad thing right? You’re just evolving. Besides Taehyung likes this version of you. But everyone’s doubts has you wondering if it’s really you at all. You’d never change yourself for someone else, right? 

You can’t get the thought that maybe you’re holding yourself back around Taehyung out of your head all night, leaving you to not enjoy game night. Every time you interact with him you can’t help but wonder if you’re being yourself or if you’re portraying an image you’re not. Because while Taehyung does make you nervous and sometimes does make you stumble on your words, the more you’re aware of how you might be changing your behavior the more you’re aware that you’re suppressing your harsher burns or remarks that you’d have no problem saying to anyone else. You wonder if Taehyung realizes how different you act with Yoongi and Jimin compared to him or just amounts it to the fact that they’ve been your long-term friends. You don’t know, you’re not sure of anything at this point regarding you and Taehyung. You wish Jimin never said anything because now you’re left second guessing. 

The thought follows you into the week and even leads you into ignoring Taehyung’s texts if for nothing but to not accidentally lie to him. You don’t want him thinking you’re a fake person and at this point you’re so turned around that you’re not even sure how you could make sense of what’s going on in your head. The more you think about it the more you’re convinced that you’re not yourself around him but the more you convince yourself the louder your doubts get because what if you’re only convinced because you think you should be. The only time you get any solace is with Jungkook and Lucy so naturally you’ve been spending time with them. Though it’s only to see her of course, never Jungkook. Which is why every day you make sure to bring her something new. Whether it’s a costume- yes you went back and bought her the pink onesie, she hated it but you got a cute picture- some new treats, toys, or even little bows you never came empty handed because that would mean you also partly came to spend time with Jungkook. And wanting to spend time with Jungkook would mean that your annoying e-boy neighbor finally broke down your walls and created a little home in your heart. It would mean that he’s finally become your friend and that’s information that can’t get out. Besides if he finds out you think of him as a friend would that change the way he interacts with you? Would you no longer be able to make fun of him and call him names like bambi just to piss him off? 

You think about this as you’re stood outside his door, a hand raised to knock on it and two coffees in hand- Jungkook had promised you to teach you all the tricks in Smash Bros so you could finally beat Jin tonight and it’d probably take a while so you needed to stay awake- paired with a pup cup from Starbucks for Lucy when the door swings open and Jungkook’s doe eyes are frantic. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Is all he says before pulling you into a hug, the pup cup falling to your feet as you struggle to hold onto the two larger drinks. He grips you like a child holding a teddy bear for comfort, his breath ragged against your neck as he hides his face in the crook there. You instantly panic because something has him obviously scared but try your best to remain calm to comfort him. As best as you can you wrap your arms around his back, careful to hold the two cold drinks away from him. 

“You okay?” You ask softly although very aware the answer is no. You and Jungkook have never gone down this road before- one of soft words and touches- so you try and navigate it as best as possible even if that means asking redundant questions. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Lucy, she just keeps coughing and she’s spitting out this white foamy stuff and I don’t know what to do because she’s so hot that I’m scared to carry her in case she overheats and I-“ He sobs out, pushing into you harder as he tries and hides the tears. It’s a little futile however as you can feel him shaking around you but let him collect himself before gently pulling away to set the drinks down. Gingerly you wipe his tears as he hangs his head down in shame- probably from breaking down in front of you (his frenemy)- and you gaze up at him softly. 

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ll go with you to the vet and we’ll deal with it from there. You can even hold my hand if you need to.” You joke trying to crack a smile to get him to cheer up a little but it doesn’t do anything for him. “Do you have a kennel for her or anything?” You ask and he shakes his head no, his bottom lip trembling. 

“I’m such a bad dog dad.” He sobs and you’re so frantic to calm him down you place little kisses along his face to try and stop the tears. He tenses immediately when he pulls himself out of his thoughts long enough to realize what you’re doing and you pull away embarrassed. 

“We can use a box with some thin blankets it’s fine.” You say, refusing to acknowledge what you just did. It’s something that’s better to just sweep under the rug and forget it happened. Grabbing a smaller box from recycling- you’ve never been so thankful for Costco than in this moment- you hurry to Jungkook’s bedroom where you can hear a little honks from Lucy. Gently opening the door you find her nestled in a bunch of blankets on Jungkook’s bed, the fan blowing directly on her while her head nuzzles his pillows. The footsteps behind you alert you of Jungkook’s presence and you nod to Lucy lying on the bed. 

“See you’re not a bad dog dad at all, she loves you. She’s finding comfort in your scent right now.” Stepping into the room you gingerly walk towards her as to not startle to poor puppy, setting the box down beside you on the bed. 

“Hi baby, we’re gonna go to the doctor okay?” You tell her, gently moving her out of the nest and onto the comforter as you hurry to stuff the little nest into the box. “Bambi do you have a hoodie or something that you’ve worn recently?” You ask and immediately he begins fishing for one in his laundry basket. The hoodie is just a plain grey and you feel a little bad at the inevitable stains but place it into the box anyways before turning back to Lucy. Carefully you slide one hand under her shoulder and head while the other slides under her bottom half before you carry her almost like a newborn baby into the box. It’s not the best crate but it’s the best you can do at a moments notice. Jungkook immediately takes the box from you, careful to hold it from the bottom as you hurry back into the living room and grab his keys from the rack and the two coffees- you’ll probably need them for the long night ahead of you. 

Googling the nearest 24 hour vet clinic seeing as it’s around 9 p.m you hurry into your car and head off. You attempt to play music to calm everyone’s nerves but Jungkook turns it off and instead you sit in silence as your navigation occasionally calls out directions. 

A ten minute ride later you’re once again hurrying, Jungkook sprinting through the doors when Lucy starts to gag. You follow after him, coming in just in time to see one of the Vet Tech’s take Lucy to the back. Jungkook slumps against the counter as the receptionist readies some files for him to complete and you take the clipboard from her after urging Jungkook to sit down. Quietly you fill out the information sheet for him, only occasionally asking him questions for things you don’t know the answer to. You’ve just sat down when they call for Jungkook, his hand finding your own and you squeeze it thinking he just needs a moment of comfort when he tugs on it, refusing to let go. “Come with me?” He whispers and you nod, immediately standing up to follow him with his hand still sat comfortably in your own. 

“So we’ve took her temperature and she’s running a high fever and obviously she’s coughing but can you describe her other symptoms if she had any?” The Vet Tech asks and Jungkook nods. 

“She uhh coughed up this white foamy stuff that kinda had the consistency of snot and she was gagging before we came here. She’s probably been coughing for the last couple of hours.” 

“Did she do or eat anything out of the ordinary today?” 

“She met my friend’s dog. I know she doesn’t have all her shots but I thought it’d be okay since he has all his.” Jungkook mumbles and the guy nods along while making notes. 

“We’re just going to take a few tests to make sure we have the right diagnosis and then we’ll get back to you. We’re not that busy so it should only take an hour or two at most. If you’d like to go back in the waiting room we’ll call you back when we’re ready or you can wait here if you’d like.” He says before exiting the small room and disappearing. 

“What do you want to do?” You ask Jungkook and he just sighs. 

“I don’t know. Do you think this is my fault?” He asks, his normally sparkly eyes are dull as devastation and heartbreak take full form in them. It hurts you to watch and you almost feel your own heart break at his evident pain. As much as you love Lucy you only spend a few hours a day with her so your pain can amount nowhere close to Jungkook’s. 

“I don’t think we should go there, especially when we don’t have a diagnosis. Let’s just stay here so you can nap. You look exhausted.” You tell him and he sneers. 

“You want me to sleep when my dog could be dying?” He yells and you flinch away. 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. And she was puking up snot Kook it’s not like she was coughing blood. It’ll be okay.” You tell him, trying to be understanding and not take his yelling personal. “You don’t have to sleep alright?” 

“Alright.” He sighs, sitting back down again before laying his head in your lap. “I’m sorry for yelling.” He mumbles, turning his head to bury it into your thigh to hide his embarrassment. 

“I know, it’s okay.” You say softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and eventually his body relaxes enough that you realize despite his previous words he has in fact fallen asleep. You continue stroking his hair as he snores lightly against you, praying that for his sake Lucy is okay.

“Sorry that took so long, we had an emergency surgery and Lucy got put on hold for a little.” The Vet says as she barges in, your head banging against the wall as you startle awake. Jungkook groans from your lap, rubbing his eyes as he pouts at being abruptly awoken. 

“It’s okay.” You croak out, voice hoarse from sleep. You stretch all your limbs, your back cracking wonderfully as the Vet waits for both of you to wake up, somewhat amused. 

“We looked through the test results and it turns out she has Kennel Cough. It’s nothing too serious, it typically clears up on it’s own but since she’s not fully vaccinated we’re going to give her medicine to help clear it up faster and make sure it’s fully gone. By the time the medication is finished be sure to bring her back for her final vaccination and just don’t let her around other dogs until then okay?” You both nod and she gives you the prescription, before informing you that’d she’ll be right back with Lucy. 

Checking your phone you realize that it’s currently 2 a.m. and you wonder just how long the two of you have been sleeping on these hard chairs. The vet appears shortly later with a sleepy Lucy- apparently they gave her some medicine to make her sleep through the night- along with a crate. “Figured you’d need a real one of these instead of a cardboard box. I already put her blankets and the jacket inside so she’s all good to go. Just make sure to stop by the front desk and sign out.” With a wave goodbye and a get well to Lucy she leaves the two of you alone again. 

“Do you think the crate is free?” Is the first thing Jungkook says to you and you laugh, ruffling his hair. 

“I don’t know Bambi. If not let’s just make a run for it.” 

“Just what I want to be arrested for: stealing a dog crate.” He laughs, rolling his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to Lucy’s forehead. “Let’s go home baby.” He says and for a moment your tired mind thinks he’s talking to you. Shaking your head of useless thoughts you lead him back to the reception desk where he pays for her care- the crate surprisingly was free- before you lead him back to your car where this time he lets you play music on the drive home. 

Pulling up to your apartment complex, you park before taking the elevator this time to the second floor, too tired to walk up a measly two flights of stairs. You’re just about to fish your key out of your bag when Jungkook’s hand on your wrist stops you. “Will you come in and help me make sure she’s settled?” He asks and he looks so nervous while asking you that you can’t say no- not that you were planning to. Nodding you follow him inside after taking your shoes off, tucking her into her bed that’s in the corner of his room. 

“Do you think I should let her up here?” 

“Your body heat might make her fever worse.” You tell him and he visibly deflates. “It’s okay you can wake up bright and early if you want to sit by her side all day tomorrow. But she’s so knocked out she probably won’t even realize you’re not next to her right now.” It’s the most you can offer him as your own drowsiness sets in and every time you blink your eyelids stick together for a little longer. 

“Do you just want to stay here?” Jungkook asks and for a split second you’re wide awake. “You just look so tired I don’t think you could make it the ten feet next door.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes. 

“I could.” You huff and Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he observes you. 

“You don’t have to though.” He says softly, moving to lay flat on his back. 

“Touch me and you’re dead.” You tell him, the bed creaking as you settle down beside him. He hums in response and you roll onto your side, letting sleep take over. 

Surprise, Surprise-when you wake up Jungkook has broken your rule. In fact his whole body is wrapped around you as his leg is nestled between your own while one arm wraps around your waist and the other has somehow slid under your neck. It’s entirely too domestic of a scene with a once sworn enemy and you scramble to get out of this position before Jungkook wakes up. Except he was either already awake or your squirming awoke him as he mumbles at you to stop moving before encasing his arms around you and rolling so you’re effectively trapped under him. It does render you motionless but it also renders you breathless since he’s so heavy. I mean really what is this kid eating? 

“I can’t breathe.” You say into a mouthful of pillow only further suffocating himself. Jungkook only hums in response, snuggling into you further like this is the most natural thing for you two to do. You manage to turn your head enough to not be face deep in a pillow and choke out, “You’re too heavy. Get off.” as he finally gets the hint that he’s been killing you softly and rolls to the other side of the bed. 

“Sorry.” He says at least having the decency to look remorseful and embarrassed by the fact that he almost murdered you. 

“You broke my rule, I said don’t touch me.” You scold him, already reaching to the side to grab the pillow. 

“But you cuddled me first!” 

“Don’t care, I have to kill you now.” You shrug before whacking him in the face a little bit harder than you meant to. “Boom, headshot. You’re dead.” You giggle, probably way to nonchalant about the fact you woke up entangled in the arms of your nemesis but if you don’t think about it, it can’t hurt you. 

“You really think a headshot could kill me, the indestructible Jeon Jungkook? Never!” Jungkook says, reaching around to grab a pillow to hit you with before Seokjin’s voice sounds through the other side of the door. 

“Jungkook are you playing with your action figures again? I told you that’s weird.” You stifle the laugh fighting to break out with your hand, taking much to pleasure in the fact that Jungkook’s face is bright red and he can no longer look you in the eye. 

“No Jin! I’m talking with Y/n.” He yells before his eyes widen at his mistake. He just outed you both as…cuddle buddies. The door bursts open at that, Seokjin being much to awake for whatever time it is in the morning with his phone pointed directly at you for incriminating evidence. 

“It’s happening!” He screams, waking up Lucy who manages something that somewhat resembles her normal bark. 

“Lucy!” You and Jungkook both scream, scrambling off the bed to check on her. Seokjin keeps his camera on you both as you and Jungkook fuss over Jungkook’s tiny puppy completely forgetting that he’s in the room. 

“Everything is falling together so beautifully don’t you think Jimin?’ He whispers and you look up for a moment in confusion having heard him but he only winks at you in response. Seokjin sure has a lot of secrets. 

You finally reach out to Taehyung feeling bad for ignoring him for a week but also needing closure. You need to see once and for all if you really are a different person around Taehyung. It’ll only have to be after the class that started it all, your 400 person lecture that is the whole reason you and Jungkook even became aware of each other’s existence despite being neighbors. You’ve asked him to meet you after class seeing that it’s the last class of the day for you and you didn’t think it was fair to keep Taehyung waiting any longer. He was a good person and he deserved to know where your head is at. You almost hope that if this doesn’t end up working that you can genuinely still be friends. 

Jungkook has apparently decided to save you a seat- which is a little odd since you’ve never made an effort to sit next to each other before- if him flagging you down is anything to go by. He did make a good choice in seats though- choosing to be in the back and near the edge of the long rows- as it means you don’t have to climb over a bunch of people just to get to him. “Hi.” He breathes like he’s relieved to have you sit beside him. You wonder if he thought you’d just turn and walk in the other direction. 

“Hi bambi.” You smile, pulling your laptop out of your bag and sticking it on the little tray connected to your chair. “Thanks for saving me a seat.” 

“Anytime thief.” He actually snorts when he watches your face drop, apparently still getting satisfaction from the old nickname. 

“Are you never going to let that go?” You sigh, slumping back into the chair and placing your head in your palm. 

“First you took my backpack, then my plant, then my dog. Is there anything you haven’t taken from me?” He teases and you huff. 

“I give you a cute nickname like Bambi and you decide to stick me with thief. Why do I even try to be nice to you?” 

“Because I’m adorable and it’s impossible not to be nice to me. But if you’re really so hard done by it I guess I can call you Thumper.” He shrugs, cackling at the disgust that takes shape on your face. 

“Gross. Matching pet names is what you came up with?” 

“It’s thief or thumper, your pick.” He has an evil glint in his eyes as he smiles so wide at you that his whole face crinkles, his shoulders rising up to shake in laughter. It might be the happiest you’ve ever seen him and you suppose if thumper makes him so happy it’s not so bad.

“Fine thumper will do.” You murmur, chucking when he high fives himself like a total loser. The professor then comes in and the class falls silent- which is a little odd since normally this class is never quiet- as he turns to face you all. 

“It’s come to my attention there is a thief among us. Last week a student reported their laptop missing from this class that has yet to be returned. If you know anything about this and have substantial proof as to where it is, you’ll receive extra credit on your next paper.” 

“Any chance it was you, my favorite little thief?” Jungkook whispers, groaning in pain when you elbow him. 

“No and like I’d share it with you. You don’t deserve the extra credit.” You whisper back. 

For the rest of the class Jungkook is surprisingly quiet, so much so that you even forget he’s beside you. When you do remember he is though you get oddly creeped out because in the time you’ve known him he’s rarely ever quiet. Even if he’s not making noise with his mouth he’s tapping his foot or fingers along to an unknown beat and yet he’s eerily silent. Turning to him in concern you watch as he analyzes the back of everyone’s head in great concentration, moving along the row in front of you slowly as to gain every detail. “What’re you doing?” You ask, ignoring the professor as he wraps up the lecture. Looking at Jungkook’s screen you notice that he hasn’t even written down a single thing from today. 

“I’m looking for the laptop thief.” He says nonchalantly like it isn’t weird to stare at the back of stranger’s heads for the past hour. 

“And you’re finding that out from looking at the back of their heads?” 

“Yes, I’m seeing who looks most like one.” He tells you and you turn to him fully to get his attention. 

“Do I look like a thief?” You ask, unmoving as the people around you quickly gather their stuff and head out of the lecture hall. 

“Yes.” He says matter-of-factly. A smile making its way onto his face as he can read the clear irritation on yours. 

“How so?” 

“It’s just something about you. One look at you and I knew you were it.” 

“That’s because you saw me with your backpack in my hand dumbass. You’re not batman with your ‘here comes trouble’ detector.” You scoff, finally moving to put your laptop in your bag. You’ve only just realized you two are about the last ones in the lecture hall and the remaining few can probably hear your conversation. You don’t need more people thinking you’re a criminal. 

“That’s- that’s not even a thing? Have you ever watched a superhero movie in your life?” Jungkook asks, like he can’t fathom the fact that you were just spitting nonsense. Honestly you had seen some superhero movies but you didn’t care much for them. 

“In my defense, spidey senses are a thing as well as a guy who literally shoots webs from his hands? How does that make sense?” You can’t help the smile that takes over your face when he groans in agitation, turning around to catch him running a hand through his hair and fixing his glasses- you were right, he only wears them for the aesthetic which is why he never has them on at home. 

“He was bit by a radioactive spider!” 

“How did it not die when being around the radiation? It’s literally a tiny spider.” You ask and Jungkook just looks at you exasperatedly. 

“People don’t die from radiation.” He deadpans, flicking your forehead for being stupid. 

“But it’s a spider. Also how did he not die from being exposed to the radiation? Wasn’t he like a scrawny guy?” 

“That was Captain America you idiot.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as well. You knew that but Jungkook is too fun to piss off. Besides it’s only fair since you know he gets the same satisfaction from you. 

“I know idiot.” You grin, flicking his forehead as you skip away from him and towards the doors.

He chases after you a matching grin on his face as he grabs onto your hand to slow you down. “So you’re purposely being irritating?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t do the same.” You giggle, completely unaware of the third set of eyes in the room. 

“Uhh am I interrupting something?” Taehyung asks and you suddenly remember you were supposed to meet him after class. 

“Taehyung hi.” You smile at him awkwardly, taking a step away from Jungkook who drops your hand. 

“You know Taehyung?” Jungkook asks you and you nod. 

“Yeah I forgot I was supposed to meet him outside of class today.” You tell him before turning back to Taehyung. “Sorry about that by the way.” 

“So Jungkook’s bambi?” Taehyung asks though it’s more like he’s talking it through himself. “And you’re the backpack thief.” 

“That sounds like a bad rip off of Percy Jackson.” You joke, trying to displace some of the awkward tension in the air. No one laughs. 

“Taehyung how do you know thumper?” Jungkook asks, his voice teetering on actually angry. It’s not the type you’re used to hearing for the one he directs at you is normally more light-hearted and teasing. This type is deep and gravely like he has hot coals burning in his windpipe. 

“We went out a few times.” Taehyung says and you find yourself backtracking when you watch Jungkook’s face drop a little. You’re not sure why it drops but his downcast expression worries you all the same. 

“It wasn’t anything serious though. It’s not like we’re officially together.” You don’t know why you rush to reassure him, especially since Taehyung is in the room and you’re talking about him, but you can’t help but feel guilty for his sadness. You feel a little bit like Jimin did when he moved out. 

“So that’s it?” Jungkook finally speaks though his voice is noticeably weaker. 

“Yeah.” You say, hoping that’ll solve whatever problem is happening between you right now. That seems like it’s the wrong answer though as he turns around and exists the doors on the other side of the classroom. You wish you could chase after him and find out what’s wrong but you don’t know what to say. 

“Taehyung I’m sorry.” You start, after following him out to a secluded bench near the building you were just in. “I didn’t mean to say that I wasn’t serious about you. I do like you and our dates did mean something to me. I just- he looked so sad and I panicked.” 

He’s silent for a long moment and you grow antsy beside him before he decides to speak. “Do I make you feel confident?” He asks, turning to you head on so he can read your body language as you try and process his question. 

“What?” 

“I was confused by why Hoseok seemed so shocked when I described you as shy and then I saw how you reacted with Jimin and Yoongi but I amounted to it being because you’re old friends. But seeing you with Kook who I know you only met a few days before me, I can’t help but notice you’re almost a different person. So, do I make you feel confident?” 

“You…you make me feel nervous but that’s only because you’re so handsome.” You start only for him to cut you off. 

“But you should be used to my face by now. Do you think Jungkook is handsome?” 

“Of course but I don’t really see the relevance. Sorry let me rephrase, I’m not very good at expressing myself.” You ramble, mind sent into overdrive as you scramble to think of words. 

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, placing a hand on your cheek to soothingly stroke his thumb along your cheekbone. “you deserve someone who you can easily express yourself to. You shouldn’t have to struggle to find the words.” 

“But I’m like that with everyone, it’s just who I am.” You shrug but Taehyung stops you again. 

“You’re not that way with Jungkook. I’ve heard you tell him off just fine in plenty of his stories about you. You never seem to find the wrong words around him. Even when you were stressed about his feelings being hurt just now you could find something to say. Besides, I don’t think we have half as much chemistry as you and Jungkook do. He almost kissed you that day Lucy peed on him.” 

“He what?” You exclaim, pulling away from Taehyung in shock. 

“I mean this in the nicest way possible but don’t you think it’s time you wake up and realize what’s right in front of you? Jungkook hasn’t been exactly subtle about his feelings for you and I think in your own way you weren’t exactly subtle about yours for him either.” 

“So you’re telling me I like Jungkook?” You say, the words coming out slowly as you process the sentence. As odd as it sounds on your tongue you feel a small weight lifted off your shoulders. 

“I’m saying that you should re-evaluate your relationship with him. I think you both mean a lot more to each other than the other thinks and it’s pretty easy to see on the outside. I just wish I would’ve figured out who you were sooner so I could avoid hurting my best friend.” Taehyung sighs, turning away from you to watch the people around you blissfully unaware of the mess that is your life. 

“Best friends?” You exclaim. “But I never heard much about you, no offense.” 

“We lost touch a little this semester when I became engrossed in my classes. If your portfolio is good enough they’ll show it to nearby galleries to display so I’ve been quite busy. The only bit of free time I’ve spent with you.” 

“But we went to Hoseok’s show?” You say, still trying to piece it together.

“Again, time spent with you but since he’s my roommate I can’t exactly not show up to his recital. Also you and Hoseok are terrible actors, I could tell you were exes the moment you stood awkwardly behind me.” Taehyung chuckles and you slap his arm in response. 

“Hey I could’ve been shy!” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

“Is that why you never talked about your friends much? Because I’d probably know them through Hoseok and that’d be awkward.” 

“Yeah. I didn’t exactly know you were his ex at the time you asked me out. We’d only been living together for a couple months at that point.” Taehyung shrugs and you sigh. A lot could’ve been avoided if you and Taehyung had actually talked. Though you’re starting to realize that this is the easiest it’s ever been to talk to him now that the pressure of a relationship is off. 

“Hey Tae, do you think we can try being just friends? I really do enjoy your company.” You ask, a little too nervous to look at him for his reaction. Facing rejection is never easy. 

“I think we could work something out. Besides I don’t know if you noticed but this is probably the best conversation we’ve ever had. Ironically it’s about us breaking up, if you can even call this that.” Taehyung laughs and you laugh along beside him. Funny how some things work out. 

The next task on your list is finding Jungkook. You look at the dining halls first- Jungkook’s favorite place despite the fact that everything is either soggy or undercooked- but he’s nowhere to be seen. Then you head to the library thinking he’ll go to the last place you’d think to look for him- which of course makes it your second- but he’s not there either. Your last resort is to head home and see if maybe you can find him there. Jin answers the door this time, jerking his head back towards the hallway where Jungkook’s room is. 

“He’s back there sulking.” Jin whispers, handing you a tub of ice cream and a spoon. “He won’t let anyone in but I’m sure you’ll get special treatment.” 

“Jin, am I in your OTP?” You ask. His eyes widen comically as he shakes his head side to side. 

“No, of course not. What even is that? Sorry I don’t understand you and Kook’s nerd lingo.” He rambles and your mind- ever the hyperfixator- focuses on one word. In all the time that you’ve known your neighbors, you’ve never heard Jin use the word nerd. And you’ve been here countless hours every day. But one person you know that has an infinity for the word nerd is Park Jimin who you already know shares secrets with Jin. 

“Hmm okay. Though you might want to tell Jimin your ship could be sailing fairly soon.” You wink, enjoying the fact that this time you’re the one leaving with a smirk and he’s left confused. 

Knocking softly on his door, you ignore the way he groans “go away” at you and open it, ducking just barely in time for the pillow to graze the top of your head. “Thumper?” 

“Hey bambi. I brought you ice cream.” Slowly standing up, you take in the way Lucy is wrapped up in his arms like a little plushie, a thick blanket wrapped around him as he burrows into the pillows the longer you observe him. Handing it to him along with the spoon you sit on the edge of the bed, picking at the loose threads as you try and find the courage to confront what just happened. 

“Taehyung and I broke up, if you can even call it that.” You say suddenly, the spoon in Jungkook’s mouth falling against the mattress with a soft thud. You grimace at the hard stain that’s going to form but Lucy is delighted at the sticky residue left on the spoon. Lucky for her Jungkook is boring and likes vanilla ice cream. 

“You what?” He asks, mouth hanging open until you push it closed. 

“Don’t leave your mouth open, you’ll catch flies.” You giggle. “But yeah we decided we’re better off as friends.” You leave out the part that you decided you also might have feelings for Jungkook because today has already been an emotional day for you.

“Is-is there a specific reason why?” Jungkook asks almost pleadingly and as much as you want to give him the answer you hope he’s looking for you can’t. Not until you’ve slept on it, not until you’re sure that this is what you want. He deserves that at least. 

“We just didn’t click the same. I was pretty shy around him actually. Can you believe that?” You laugh and Jungkook sighs. 

“Why were you never shy with me?” 

“You’re kind of infuriating. Besides Taehyung never pushed my buttons like you do. There was nothing to be snarky to him about.” You shrug, your mind momentarily thinking back to what Jimin said what seems like such a long time ago: you’re not good at flirting! You’re just mean and shit. While a little ineloquent for your taste it sadly does some you up. You guess you were forever destined to end up in an enemies to lovers. 

It only takes two days for you to realize you’re an idiot. It only takes two days for you to realize that you may have accidentally been falling in love with your nemesis turned frenemy this whole time while not knowing it. You’ve always been bad with feeling but surely no one is that inept: well expect you of course. You should’ve seen it coming with the way he was constantly on your mind and began inviting yourself over to his place- something you don’t even do to your childhood best friend Jimin. Or that fact that you climbed in his bed, tired but competent to know that you’d probably wake up with his arms around you. And yet you continuously pushed these thoughts away under the pretense that he thought of you as nothing more than a frenemy at best- it was probably painfully obvious like when he put on the stupid chef hat to make you happy or when thief lost its negative connotation and became a sweet nickname for you. Perhaps the most glaring reason is the fact that he gave you matching pet names but in conclusion: you’re an idiot. 

“How could I not notice?” You whine to Jimin as you walk through campus. You’re on a rather old path- one that’s less of a straight shot to the student union- enjoying the shade that the buildings provide from the sun. Summer is beginning to settle in making walking around campus your least favorite activity. 

“They do say love is blind. Did you see that whole show they created? Yoongi and I made a shot game so whenever Jessica talked about her and Mark’s age gap we had to drink and I’ve never got wasted to fast in my life.” He snorts at the memory and you almost wish you had been there but drunk Jimin was undoubtably the clingiest Jimin. He was the epitome of the “I love you” drunk and as much as you did love him sometimes it was a bit too much for you to handle. Yoongi, however, loved drunk Jimin because Jimin gave him all the attention he was unwilling to express desire for. “I can imagine.” You laugh. “But I guess I don’t really know what to say. We’re rarely not arguing.” 

“Yeah but isn’t it that ‘I want to kiss you but also punch you’ type?” 

“Just how much do you and Jin talk about us? You’re starting to pick up on each other’s diction.” 

“You should just give the people what they want and messily confess to him. It really sets the tone for your ‘i love you, I love you not’ relationship.” Jimin laughs. 

“What should I say? Should I do it 10 things I hate about you style?” You ask, unaware that you’re passing the life science building, 

“Yes! Give me an idea of the performance.” 

“It’s not a performance, it’s a confession but nonetheless,” You pause and take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. “I hate the way you piss me off like the day we first met. I hate that I can hear your infuriating voice in my head all the time. I hate the way you talk to me like a friend. I hate the way I can’t stand to simply just be around you anymore. I hate the way you call me thief or thumper.” You’re too deep in your monologue to notice the way Jimin visibly panics in front of you, shaking his head rapidly from side to side to try and warn you silently to stop talking. Yet like any shakespearean play you run too long, too deep in your own feelings to notice the dagger you aim at your own heart.

It hits home when a shoulder checks into your own, a hurt, “If you hate me so much you could’ve just said so” coming from your favorite voice and you crumble. Because just like Romeo and Juliet you killed your love before it could have the chance to truly blossom. You think for once you might actually hate yourself as you watch his figure disappear as he breaks into a jog. Your heart cracks even further when you realize it’s probably because he’s crying- the imagine of him shoving his face into your neck to hide them from you resurfacing. And then you’re crying because you just ruined what could be the best thing you didn’t know you had. You wish you would’ve just said something two days ago because you don’t think you’ll get the chance to even speak to him again even if it’s just to apologize. 

Silent tears streak down your cheeks- you thought it’d be a cool thing to learn how to do when you were younger (cry silently that is)- as Jimin leads you away from the curious eyes of the other students as they no doubtably wonder what has you crying at a little past noon on a weekday. You wonder what they’d think if they knew you accidentally broke the heart of the boy you’re in love with while planning a confession. It was a simple case of wrong place, wrong time and yet just like that he’s gone. You laugh at the irony of it all- you lost him before you even had him- and Jimin just stares at you with pity. You hate it and so despite knowing he’s just trying to help and that you’re being irrational you shrug him off you and sprint to your own apartment, hoping for solace in the silence. For once it’s nice to come home to nothing.

You can’t sleep. It’s been approximately twelve hours since you crushed Jungkook and you can’t sleep not knowing if he’s okay. He probably won’t answer when he sees it’s you- he won’t answer your texts or calls- and yet you can’t stop yourself from getting out of bed and knocking on his door. It’s asking for your own heartbreak but you figure you deserve it at this point. No one comes after five minutes so you knock again and wait another five. Not wanting to look like an idiot for standing in the hallway when no one is home- or at least willing to answer- you head back to your own apartment. 

The next morning you wake up early in hopes to catch a glimpse of him going on his morning run- he always goes just before 8 a.m. so he can come back, shower, and then fall back asleep before he needs to leave for class- and yet his figure never emerges. Concerned you knock on his door and to your surprise Namjoon answers. Unsurprisingly he’s not happy to see you. “Go home Y/n.” He sighs. When he sees your dejected expression he pauses in closing the door on you. “Did you mean it?” 

“No, he wasn’t supposed to hear that. I was um practicing confessing.” You murmur, looking down at your hands awkwardly as you reveal your true intentions to Namjoon. You feel much too vulnerable. “Have you ever seen the movie 10 things I hate about you? She confesses in a similar monologue to what I was attempting but I didn’t make it to the end when he heard.” 

Namjoon hums for a moment before nodding like he’s come to a resolution. You wish he’d tell you what it was. “Give him time okay?” You nod solemnly before ducking back into your own apartment. 

The next day you resolve to buy him a succulent plant, a little aloe vera one from the market Taehyung works at. The plant is what started this whole hatred turned friendship turned…whatever this is. If you hadn’t argued over one stupid little plant you’d probably have never spoken after you awkwardly returned his bag. You’d have no reason to. So you hope that while it’s not a big gesture, it’d at least be a small place to start. Quietly you sneak to his front door and place it on the welcome mat, knocking quickly before ducking inside your peephole. You watch in anticipation as the door cracks open before closing again, the little succulent still on the mat. You heave a sigh, wondering what else you could do.

The next month passes by slowly and every day you stop by the store to buy another succulent. You’ve started to associate them with Jungkook, picking one up for every day you think of him. Each one is named something different, tied with a different memory you have of him. Lucy: for obvious reasons. Frosty: for the first time you started to see him as something other than a frenemy. Bambi: for the man of the hour himself. And your personal favorite, thumper: a fuzzy little cactus that resembles a rabbit’s tail. Thumper also marks the day that started it all, the chain reaction that led to you discovering just how much your e-boy neighbor meant to you. 

“Holy shit.” Jimin says, stepping into your apartment for the first time in a month. You’ve become a bit of a recluse, though you did apologize to him for shrugging him off when he was just trying to help you that day. The only time you do interact with people is when you go to class, the market or Jimin and Yoongi’s for game night. Other than that you just stay here alone, brewing in your self-made despair. “It’s like planet of the plants in here or something. Do I need to worry about you being a hoarder?” Jimin asks and you shrug.

“My mind kinda hyperfixated on succulents and the succulents remind me of him so I’ve been collecting them.” 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Jimin asks.

“He wouldn’t pick up my calls and Namjoon said he needed time so I stopped trying. I tried giving him an aloe plant like Cherry but he didn’t accept it.” You sigh, picking up the plant he discarded and brushing along its leaves. Bonjour-dubbed the word sprawled across the welcome mat- wilts a little when you touch it and you wonder if your sadness is infecting it. 

“This blows. Especially since it’s all over a misunderstanding.” 

“Has Jin mentioned anything about how he’s doing?” 

“I don’t think he’s faring much better. Jin has to take Lucy on her morning walks now because he barely wakes up in time for class. Apparently he’s taken up an interest in herbology though and is growing spices, wonder who he’s trying to remember.” Jimin nudges your shoulder and you roll your eyes. 

“He’s probably doing it for Jin as a birthday present or something.” You’d rather not get your hopes up. He’d have talked to you by now if he missed you right?

You evidently get your answer as a harsh pounding on your front door wakes you up and half-asleep and a little uncaring about who’s on the other side you throw it open. Sleepily you rub your eyes while wondering why whoever was so desperate to talk to you is suddenly silent when the haze in your mind clears enough to register Jungkook stands before you with a 10 things I hate about you dvd case clutched in his hand. His eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks are tear stained making you instantly reach up to wipe them away before you retract. He probably doesn’t want you to touch him. “Did you mean it?” He croaks out and you stare at him confused. 

“Mean what?” 

“When you said what you hate about me did you mean it?” Your eyes flicker to the dvd in his hand and it clicks.

“I love you.” 10 things I hate about you be damned. You’re done with dancing around your feelings and painting them in fancy words. Sometimes as you’ve learned from Taehyung it’s better to just be blunt. 

“You- what?” 

“I love your smile and the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. I love the little things about you like the mole on the bottom of your lip or the way you’re always humming a random tune. You tease me and piss me off but I’ve never wanted to kiss someone in my life more than you. This past month has been awful without you and I don’t think I can stand another minute without you. So call me a thief, call me thumper. Call me whatever you want as long as I’m yours.” He’s silent for a minute before the dvd case falls to the ground, his hands instead reaching up to cup both of your cheeks as he brings his mouth down onto your own. His lips are softer than you expected, fitting easily against your own as he presses them to yours tenderly despite the urgency behind his actions. Gently he parts your lips open to deepen the kiss and you sigh into him, pressing your body into his own wanting to feel his warmth. He only parts when you both need air, the two of you panting as you still stay close together. 

His breath fans your face as he places three gentle pecks to your lips, his head resting against your own. “I love you too thumper. I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone half as much as I love you.” 

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I wish I would’ve spoken to you sooner. And you know, for stealing your backpack.” 

“Aha! So you do admit you stole it!” He laughs, grinning as you attempt to shove him away only to pull you closer. “But I’m sorry too, I should’ve heard you out sooner. And I’m sorry for always calling you a thief.” 

“I already told you that was fine.” You laugh, leaning back to kiss the tip of his nose. 

“Yeah but I know you hated it. I only kept calling you it though because you stole my heart.” 

“Gross.” You fake gag, bending over to pretend to vomit. He giggles at your behavior, wrestling you closer to him as you try and turn around to walk away. “Who knew my boyfriend was so cheesy?” 

“Stop pretending you don’t love it.” He says, finally looking up and noticing the terrarium that is your apartment. “Why do you suddenly have so many plants?” 

“I got a succulent for every day I think of you.” You say, squealing when Jungkook attacks your sides. 

“And you said I was the cheesy one!” He screams, chasing after you to tickle you further when you finally break free. 

“Jimin our ship has finally sailed!” Seokjin whispers into the phone from next door. You and Jungkook had left your front door wide open, giving him a prime view as the two of you chased each other around, very much stupidly in love. 

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfiction #kim taehyung fanfic #bts taehyung #bts v #bts jungkook #bts imagine #bts fluff #bts angst #bts college au #jungkook college au #taehyung college au #jungkook fluff #taehyung fluff #jungkook angst #taehyung angst #park jimin #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #bts v fanfic

[piracytheorist]

A Kiss for Good Luck (8/15)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: This will hurt. I am sorry.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3) Warnings: This chapter contains character death, some depictions of violence, depictions of poor and unhealthy coping mechanisms, as well as a toxic relationship. Any intercourse and physical touch in general is fully consensual, but emotionally the relationship may appear upsetting to some. Also there are some elements that may resemble emotional self-harm.

Word count for this chapter: 4k (48k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

~

Chapter 8: Killian Jones, October 19th 2011 – October 24th 2015

The kiss is deeper than he expected. Killian pushes the woman back, but gently. He was the one who gave her permission to kiss him, after all.

"I thought it would be a quick kiss. I have a girlfriend."

Her brows are going wild. "Shit. Sorry."

He's so stupid. What would Milah think? "'Salright. Go pee."

"Yes. That,” she slurs. “Thank you again."

Just as the woman closes the bathroom door behind her, Milah appears above him.

“You okay?” she says.

He looks at her confused, before he realizes it's not that normal to sit on the floor while at a club. “Yeah,” he says. “Just very, very drunk.”

She gives him her hand, he takes it, then she starts pulling at him. “Let's go outside for some air. There's too much smoke in here.”

“I wanna pee!”

She drags him up. “You can pee outside! Let's go!”

It feels better outside. The cool, clean air wakes him up a bit.

Milah throws her arms around Killian's neck and pulls him to lean his forehead on hers. He smells the martini in her breath, landing hot against his lips.

He closes his eyes. He could stay like this forever, and how he wishes this moment lasted that long...

“How sweet,” a sharp voice says from the side.

They turn together to see Gold staring at them, his hands crossed on the handle of his cane. There's two big guys flanking him, and Killian pulls Milah aside, stepping in front of her.

“What do you want?” Killian says.

“I did wait,” Gold says. “I held back, let you take my wife away from me.”

“Shut up,” Milah says, moving to Killian's side. “Our marriage was over long before I met Killian.”

Gold looks at her, hand grabbing the cane hard.

“You... you followed us here?” Milah says, suddenly realizing. “What the hell? Where's Jack?”

“You have no right to ask about him,” Gold says and takes a brisk step forward. “You went against my conditions for meeting him. You brought that bastard with you!”

Milah flinches, and Killian's left hand grabs onto hers.

“And you?” Gold looks at him. “Going behind my back to take my son on your side? Trying to buy his love?” His face seems to barely contain his rage as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handgun.

Killian's hand squeezes Milah's as his other one raises up in defense. “Whoa, Gold, wait-”

Gold shoots.

Though Killian’s ears are ringing from the exploding sound, he hears Milah's trembling sigh. It feels like it's hours later that he turns to look at her, eyes going straight for the growing red spot on her chest.

And then she's falling.

“No,” he whispers and holds her, gently breaking her fall.

Her eyes are moving wildly, then she coughs and a thin trail of blood runs from the corner of her lips.

“No, no. Milah...”

She focuses on him. “I love you,” she whispers. She gasps one last time, then she's limp in his arms.

It's like even more hours pass. He feels her hot blood staining his hands.

Her eyes are closed. She's not breathing. Only her blood moves, dripping out of her body even though her heart has stopped beating.

“No,” he says.

He hears the tapping sound of a cane, and he looks up to see Gold standing above him, gun aimed at him. His henchmen also aim their handguns at him.

“What are you waiting for?” Killian says. “Finish it.”

What else can he say? It's not as if he'd leave him to tell the tale.

“Oh, no. You won't be so lucky,” Gold says, but he doesn't move.

Killian manages to hold himself back only long enough to set Milah down gently, then he lunges at Gold, grabbing the gun.

It all happens in half a second.

Gold shoots, Killian's ears are ringing again, and he sees two fingers fly off in a sudden fountain of blood.

He drops down to his knees. His left hand hangs limp in a way no hand should. The thumb and index finger are missing, and there's a gaping crescent hole, starting under his middle finger and reaching to the middle of his wrist.

The pain hits him suddenly and a scream erupts from his throat.

His vision comes and goes; one moment Gold is standing above him, the next Killian is leaning over Milah, the blood spilling from his hand onto her unmoving body.

There's more people screaming; people shouting; sirens, blue and red lights...

Then white. So much white.

Killian is just three days younger of twenty-eight when he once again thinks how he's cursed.

Milah is dead, there is no doubt about that. His hand was amputated, and he has to spend a whole week in the hospital before the doctors clear him for a transatlantic flight.

In the meantime he learns that Milah's body was sent back to England, per Gold's request.

At first, he finds it impossible; but the cops who'd questioned him about the assault soon inform him that Gold has solid alibi in London at the time of the murder.

Killian almost shuts down in the week he has to spend in there; Gold must have stolen Killian's phone before fleeing the scene of the crime, and Killian has no way of contacting Nemo, and he didn't let him know the specifics of his trip in the first place, like when exactly his return trip would’ve been.

If Nemo had known, he would have worried after not getting any news from Killian the day he was supposed to return. He would have contacted hospitals, would have found out about the assault. Probably would even honor Killian's request to attend Milah's funeral in his place, if Killian had the guts to actually ask him for that.

And to top it all, Nemo's phone at home is out of order. Why didn't he ever bother memorizing his cell phone? Now all Killian can do is lie in his hospital bed and do his damnedest to avoid looking at where his left hand is no more.

The blasted week goes by; Killian spends the rest of his savings into a new return trip, the only one he can afford has two stops in between.

He's dead tired, hungry, with fresh dog crap under his sole, and somehow he's not surprised to see his apartment has flooded.

It's three in the morning and he contemplates walking through the ankle-deep water anyway and collapsing in his bed.

He stands so long in front of the open door of his apartment that eventually the downstairs neighbor comes to complain about water dripping into his place.

One call to the fire department later, Killian picks up his two bags – he didn't have the heart to throw Milah's stuff away – and takes a taxi to Nemo's place.

Nemo obviously got out of bed to let Killian in, and of course, he asks Killian what happened.

It's like he's seventeen again, unable to react to one of the most life-changing news he ever received, only the opposite, in the most grim way that he never dared imagine.

He's hiding his handless arm inside his jacket pocket and silently walks the stairs up to his old bedroom. He doesn't answer Nemo's questions next morning, he doesn't even sit down to get breakfast. He goes straight to the lawyer Milah had during her divorce.

Gold is paying people to give false testimony, and Killian is gonna take him down.

Too consumed in his own hatred for the man, the whole week he spent planning his comeback he didn't think of the problems the lawyer is listing now; Killian was drunk – as evidenced by hospital records – enough for his testimony to be considered debatable; he also has motive to want to get back at Gold, stronger than Gold's motive to kill his unfaithful wife three whole years post their divorce which concluded in his favour; and of course, one has to prove first that Gold's witnesses are lying before questioning Gold's alibi of more than five thousand kilometers away from the scene of the crime.

Killian doesn't return to Nemo's place. His own apartment stinks, damp and moldy, half of his furniture and appliances were ruined, but at least his bed is functioning, and he can't deal with Nemo's sympathy right now.

He needs to take Gold down. He can't have any more distractions.

It takes him a month to remember his therapist. He checks his emails for the first time since the assault, and he feels he loses another part of him at the news of his therapist moving towns to study for a doctorate; she's suggested other therapists at him, followed by two more emails of asking if everything is okay, then nothing.

Killian looks at the names and phones of the suggested therapists as if they're threats to his consciousness. He actually laughs. Dr. Eriksen had him since before he was even an adult and she knew everything about his fucked-up adolescence. Where would he even begin with someone new?

He deletes the email.

For two years, his whole life centers around finding weak spots in Gold's armour. He quits from Shakespeare's boat rental and works at stock in the harbor. It's a tough, time-consuming job, but it keeps him in view of the sea and gets his mind off his pain. Alcohol takes over that job in his time off.

He stops drawing; Milah used to draw with him and it nearly breaks him to pick up a pencil to sketch. The last thing he sketches is the design for the tattoo with her name on it that is soon permanently inked on his arm.

Two years of trying, as much as his exhausted psyche and a mind always leaning towards booze can handle, and the best he manages is to break into Gold's house, hack through his computer and locate some suspicious activity between Gold's bank account and the one of one of his witnesses.

Thirteen years of no spots in his criminal record mean nothing to the law when there are spots in it in the first place, and he's arrested for breaking and entering.

Nemo responds to Killian's call to bail him out, even though Killian has barely spoken to him in two years. However, the disappointment is, for the first time since Killian met him, visible on his face.

“It's your decision,” Nemo tells him after Killian is out. “Your path to choose, and your life to ruin.”

If it were anyone else, Killian would be flipping him off. But Nemo is the one who took Killian in as an assortment of broken pieces and put him back together, loving and patient all throughout. The one who has always been too good to be called a mere father.

“It's not just wanting to get back at that bastard,” Killian says, nearly shouting. At Nemo's small flinch, Killian breathes in and out. Among all his losses, it's the first one that has filled him with such rage. “That monster killed her in cold blood. And he's out there now, not paying for his crime-”

His voice is too unsteady now to accommodate shouting.

“It's not just personal. He killed her-” A soft sob breaks his sentence in half. “-and he's walking free.”

“The world is not fair,” Nemo says in a very soft voice, hand resting on Killian's shoulder. “Come home, son. This isn't what you need right now.”

“No. I need to see him behind bars.”

“You need to grieve.”

Killian scoffs, laughing mirthlessly. “It's been two years.”

“Exactly.”

He drops his gaze. If he looks at Nemo's face right now, he may crumble, and his efforts of two years – albeit not very successful – will be rendered pointless. The time he lost, the damage he's done to himself, to his relationships with everyone, Nemo, Shakespeare, Will and Tink, it will all be for nothing.

And worst of all, he'll be yet another one who will do Milah wrong. If he gives up, he'll be doing to her nothing better than what Gold did, and the very thought sickens him.

There's only one thing he changes. His drinking has reached new levels, and he needs, if nothing else, to survive in order to bring Gold down. So for now, AA meetings are something.

At first, he only talks about how he manages to stay clean, how he slips and how he tries to not beat himself up over it. His fifth meeting is on a particularly bad day; the story of watching the love of his life die slips from him, and across the circle he gets looks of pity that he hates.

If only he told everyone about the furious thoughts for revenge on Milah's murderer that have been plaguing his every waking thought for the past two years.

He slumps in his seat and stays silent for the rest of the meeting. He shouldn't have come today, he should have known he would be too emotional to think rationally before speaking.

The meeting ends and he's already made up his mind to look into other AA groups before he even exits the building.

“Excuse me,” a voice calls at him.

He turns. It's Eloise Gardener, one of the attendees.

“On the last meeting you mentioned that mental activities keep your thoughts away,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“I'm hosting gardening classes, two evenings a week at the Bare Feet Greenhouse. I thought I could invite you to join, they're already quite cheap and I'll give you a discount.”

“Your name is Gardener, innit?”

She smiles. “And I am a gardener. Shocking, I know. But I've found it's a good distraction, especially knowing you're taking care of a life. You get the satisfaction without committing to... raising a child, let's say.”

Killian decides it's worth a try; unlike the AA meetings, raising a plant actually has visible proof of progress.

He stops coming to the meetings, but Eloise doesn't ask him why. She teaches him and guides him through providing a good environment for his plants.

One night after class, she helps him move the pots with his grown plants to his apartment. He doesn't truly invite her in, and when she initiates a kiss with him, he takes a few seconds of thinking before he realizes he doesn't mind that much.

It's just fuck, and Eloise doesn't seem to be thinking it's anything deeper than he does.

If he thinks it's any deeper, he'll just be haunted again by that miserable thought, that the last person he kissed before Milah died was not Milah herself, but a random stranger whose face he wasn't even sober enough to remember.

Eloise leaves and within minutes, he's left as well to search for any open store that sells booze. Rain is pouring down, cars splash him until he's soaking wet, but he finally gives up when he trips and falls, his leg hurting too much to take him too much further.

Even the couple of hours he stays in the hospital while they put a walking cast on him feel unbearable. Two years have gone by and the memories of hospital misery are still too raw.

Eloise doesn't comment on the cast nor his continued absence from the AA meetings. She invites him to her place and after they have sex he asks if he can stay the night. That way it's much easier to avoid looking for a drink to deal with how disgusted he feels.

Even the other people attending the gardening lessons wouldn't imagine Eloise and Killian are sleeping together – and Killian is attending two different classes side by side. Not that there's anything to show for it. They just fuck, sleep in the same bed, and that's all. She keeps him from running out for a drink in the middle of the night, better than any AA meeting managed, he gives her a person to have control over the way she wants, and they scratch each other's itches.

Nemo keeps trying to stay in touch with him, and Killian nearly blocks his number out of pure shame. Perhaps if Nemo realizes he's been blocked he'll stop bothering.

Killian has practically moved in with Eloise now, or she with him; in any case, they'll sleep in the same bed every night, whether it's the one in Killian's apartment or the one in Eloise's house.

He cannot connect who he was before with who he is with Eloise now. Before Nemo even adopted him officially, Killian had allowed him to pick up his pieces and make him a functional human. With Milah, it was Killian who was the whole, the rock she could lean on.

With Eloise, he can once again be broken, but without any expectation to get fixed back up – and he's too tired for unrealistic expectations. He can stay the mess that he is, sharing his body and his space with her so that he can feel something, even when the feeling isn't the best. Eloise is controlling and demanding, and Killian's feelings for her range from fear to disgust, but he prefers those over pain, grief, rage, and a continuously burning thirst.

It's easier to hate his... “partner” than to hate everything else in his life, including himself.

He's actually shocked to realize two years have passed since his first time with Eloise, and nothing at all has changed. Their feelings didn't change towards one way or another; they just kept fucking, sleeping next to each other, and going by their day without thinking about each other.

He almost hates it when she asks him to ride with her to a concert in Maidstone. Not only because she's making ensuring no-one assaults her sound like a chore, but also because he's still not ready to enjoy music he used to love. Especially not in her presence. Being in her company is not a circumstance that fits happy thoughts.

There's a lot of things he's been denying himself since Milah died. Everything that used to make him happy, even the company of his family, feels sullied now.

He doesn't expect to enjoy the concert. But Eloise buys his ticket and drives the car, so he decides that he can tolerate one night of being a boy toy to discourage sleazebags.

It doesn't even feel that special that his birthday is tomorrow; he lost Liam a few days after his fifteenth birthday, and Milah a few days before his twenty-eighth. Maybe it's just not in the cards for him to celebrate it again.

For three whole hours, he forgets everything. There's just the music, and the lights, and his throat getting sore from singing without a care.

There is, of course, the occasional groping, people stepping on his feet, even getting an elbow to the ribs, but for him it's all par of the course now. Including checking his pockets afterwards and realizing that twenty pounds are missing. And Eloise being... well, Eloise.

“You were supposed to stand by my side,” she starts complaining after the concert is over and people start dispersing.

“I can assure you I was touched against my consent far more than you were.”

“Is that supposed to be an excuse?”

Ugh, her arrogant, calm face she makes when she tells him off. He hates it.

“If you wanted an actual bodyguard, you should have hired one. I only have one hand,” he bites back at her.

“Really? I get you a birthday gift and you consider this an appropriate response.” There’s no question mark in her tone.

“Oh, piss off. As if you've given a fuck about my birthday all these years.”

Her lips purse together, but her voice keeps that cool tenor that irritates him to no end. “I wanted to make it a good one for you. Just because you don't care about it doesn't mean no-one else does.”

He sighs. He actually had a good time and he doesn't want it ruined by her gaslighting. He's experienced people actually caring for his birthday, and he knows Eloise's words are just words. Next, she'll say that she contacted Scorpions themselves and asked them to have a concert the day before his birthday.

She shakes her head and goes for the portable toilets. At last, he can have some time on his own. He turns his head away and back to the scene, now completely empty.

No One Like You wasn't exactly the song he liked the most tonight, but it's the one he can't stop humming. He's humming!

Maybe he does owe Eloise a bit. Just a bit.

"Catchy tune, huh?" he hears from the side.

He turns, seeing a woman with a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, which one isn't?" he says, smiling back. "What a night."

The woman nods. "Did you have fun?"

The words pour out of him like vomit. "A lot of people stepped on me, I got groped, pick-pocketed, and I got in a fight with my...” – How should he call her? – “friend, but you know what?" He shrugs. "Bloody worth it."

"Oh.” Her face softens. “Sorry that you were mugged."

"Ah, it was like, twenty quid. I've known better than to carry credit cards where hands can easily reach." A very dedicated hand, maybe. There's only so many hiding spots he has.

"Do you have a ride back home?" the woman says.

He stares at her, and he feels his jaw drop when he realizes. "Bollocks. I overshared, didn't I?"

She just smiles. "I mean, I have a car, and space for two... how many of you are there?"

He scratches behind his ear. "Don't worry. We've got a car. And we going right back to Brighton, anyway."

"Oh.” She seems to think for a moment. “I don't even know where that is."

He holds back a laugh. "Figured so. From your accent."

Her smile widens. "I'm Emma," she says, extending her hand.

"Killian," he gives his hand back, careful to keep his left arm inside his jacket pocket. She's still looking at his face when he drops his hand to his side. "So... you know that they're actually having a few concerts in the States for this tour, right? How come you decided to fly all over to here?"

"Well, today... or more like, yesterday," she pauses as she checks her watch, "was my birthday. This was more like a birthday gift to me, and of course I'm going to see them in-” She pauses suddenly. “What?"

She's obviously cut off by the expression on his face. "You're not kidding? Tomorrow- or, today, is my birthday."

"Wow. Happy birthday, then."

"Happy birthday to you too. Seems it was a great one."

Emma seems happy as she looks back at the now empty stage. "I'd say one of the best ones. Does your birthday seem promising?"

His chest feels twice its normal size when she turns to look at him. Somehow, with their birthdays being so close, it feels as if her having had a great birthday is feeding his own satisfaction for that day, for the first time in four- no, five years.

Some of her slightly messy hair is sticking to her face – she probably went all out dancing tonight – and her eyes seem to droop in drowsiness, but she's absolutely glowing.

Glowing and looking at him.

When she takes a step towards him, it feels like it's gravity that's pulling his own body to her.

"It seems that way, aye," he replies.

Her eyes close when she's a few inches away from him, but he waits for the moment his lips touch hers to close his eyes.

~

(A/N: I want to remind the readers that this chapter is told from Killian's point of view, distorted as it is from grief, rage and isolation from the people he loves. Emotional progress is almost never visible in the short term, especially regarding addictions. Killian might have thought the AA meetings didn't help him, but it doesn't mean that giving up and depending on a controlling person to keep him clean was the healthy thing to do.

I know it's a work of fiction but some lines are easily confused, so the message I want to pass is that if you or a loved one is trying to let go of an addiction, keeping up the effort when progress isn't directly visible may be hard, but it's worth it and will eventually help.)

#Killian Jones #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs ff #ouat ff #akfgl #captain swan movie marathon #I swear I hadn't planned on posting this on Colin's birthday 😅 #it's just how it came up #piracytheorist writes

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Seen ✓ - 1

REWRITE OF “Can You See The Stars”

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: fear of being kidnapped Word Count: 2.4k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam.  A/N:This is my second attempt at the story everyone loved, with an actual pllot in mind this time. So, attempt number two, better writing, better story. Have at it kids.

I have tagged the old taglist for this first part. Let me know if you wanna be removed/ added

Beta: The lovely @percywinchester27​ . Thank you so so much hon :) Masterlist

Chapter One: you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night

Y/n   |  Sam

The road to independence is uphill, and Y/n knows this better than anyone. She’s done it all. She’s gone through jobs at a similar speed with which she goes through books, worked two or more of them, while also studying for college… She knows how it works, and it’s really fucking difficult to balance emotional baggage the size of a city, an underage sister and college, while also trying to keep, not only yourself, but another person, alive, under a safe roof with food in your stomachs.

Currently, she’s only working one job, at a dive bar owned by a friend of a friend as a waitress.

It’s a difficult job, and Y/n has struggled with it, but the hardest part is not the endless knowledge one needs to mix drinks –on the nights Joel takes time off and she has to take his spot behind the bar- or the carrying up to twenty pounds of glasses and drinks and delivering them at the right table without soaking herself or anyone else with copious amounts of alcohol. Any minimum wage worker will tell you the same thing- clients of any kind fucking suck. Especially if you’re a young woman at a dive bar after midnight.

Another thing she’s struggled with is not having too much money, which is why she’s needed multiple jobs in the past, so she has to use public transport- buses specifically, to go to and from work. And that is exactly where she finds herself, a couple hours after midnight, at her bus stop, five minutes from the bar, when she finds a phone which, unbeknownst to her, will flip her world upside down.

It sits on the pavement of the bus stop, limp and sad. The screen is cracked a significant amount, and for a second she figures someone got rid of it and was too much of an asshole to throw it in the trash. But the second that thought crosses her mind, the screen lights up with a concerning text.

dude where the fuck are you?!

The contact reads “Sam”, and Y/n stands over the phone staring at it. She’s concerned. What if the phone’s owner is in trouble? The device may have fallen from their pocket on the pavement and cracked because they were running from someone and never made it home, and now whoever is texting them is worried for their well-being. Anxiety grips her heart.

It’s instinct that brings her to kneel down and pick it up. She can’t possibly know when the owner lost it, or how long the phone has been sitting there, but there’s an overwhelming urge to contact this Sam person and let them know what’s going on. Of course, the voice in Y/n’s head tells her that this all could just be a product of her anxiety, but it beats leaving it there and having it be stolen by a passerby.

Whatever, right? Best case scenario, she contacts the owner, who is perfectly safe and sound, and they take their phone back. She’s not really planning to pocket it. It’s fairly damaged anyways. Her own three year old, beat-up, 100$ phone is in better condition.

The bus arrives, and Y/n picks up the phone and boards it.

As she sits in her usual seat in the back, alone in the bus apart from an elderly man asleep with his head on a window and a cap on his head near the front, she starts speculating, eyes glued to the black device in her hands. Who’s the owner? Who is Sam to them? Perhaps a partner? A friend? How did the owner lose their phone? Why would this Sam sound so concerned, and most importantly, is the owner okay?

The heavy weight of dread weighs her chest at the thought of the phone’s owner being in trouble and without a phone. She must contact Sam immediately.

Hey, is this Sam?

As she awaits for a response, her curiosity is killing her. The intrigued part of her, reasons that she should snoop, it’s alright, she’s only looking for more information about the owner. Like whether or not they’re a woman or a man- which, sadly, matters when you’re walking alone in dark streets like the ones around this area- and perhaps their age –because, again, it matters if they are a teenager or a forty-year old adult.

The lack of passcode indicates someone older, with nothing to hide, or perhaps someone less technologically savvy, again, someone who may not be very young. The lockscreen is the most popular Led Zeppelin icon, and she instantly respects their music taste, and the home screen is some generic western movie from the 90s with Clint Eastwood. The chances of this belonging to someone younger further decline.

There’s a grand total of four downloaded apps in the phone. There’s an email app, a scrabble app, a microphone recorder and a dating app, no other sign of social media. Someone over 18 years old, definitely.

Soon, she’s tapping on the dating app, and opening their profile page. Holy shit, she thinks.

A guy, the tall, dark and handsome kind. Spiky hair and a smolder-like smile, sharp edges everywhere on his face apart from his gentle, olive-shaped and colored eyes. His lips are full, his nose straight, and his eyelashes long, dark and thick. He’s a real-life dreamboat, the kind you see in movies and Cosmopolitan articles about sex. He’s sitting on a black muscle car, a Chevrolet, with his thick thighs barely contained in blue jeans.

Dean Winchester, the app writes. 28. Male. Likes: old cars, beer, hard rock, westerns, she figured that much, bacon burgers. Dislikes: pop music, modern horror movies, uncomfortable beds. Not looking for anything serious, just a night of fun ;), and wow, okay, he sounds a bit like a dick. The very Red-blooded American Male kind, that enjoys BBQs and winking at women from across the bar. She’s had enough of those during her line of work; she can recognize them from a mile away.

Whatever the case, her moral compass couldn’t allow her to pass up on the opportunity to possibly help someone in trouble. She ignores her urge to roll her eyes, and scrolls a little, finding other pictures of the same guy, when suddenly two separate notifications appear, the phone itself vibrating. One is from the app, which has now received a picture from this girl, Jamie, one which she certainly doesn’t plan on opening, seeing as it’s followed by a winky face. The second one is from Sam.

jesus dean how drunk are you

yes it’s sam. your brother? remember?

No, this isn’t Dean, uh.

My name is Y/n. Your brother lost his phone at a bus stop, near a bar.

i should’ve figured. dean rarely ever uses punctuation.

nice to meet you i guess

Nice to meet you, too.

So basically, uhm, I thought you might help me return his phone to him? I got worried, because this was dumped on the sidewalk, I thought he may be in trouble or something.

knowing him he probably dropped it while being too shitfaced to function.

gotta admit i’m impressed though. most people would’ve pocketed it by now.

I mean, it’s not much use to me with such a cracked screen haha.

yeah i guess.

i don’t know about getting it back to him though. i’m in kansas right now so i’m not close by. i don’t think i can help you.

he doesn’t use social media either.

Crap.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this phone then?

keep it probably.

You sure there’s no other way I can reach him?

i mean i can give you his email but i’m not sure he’ll respond.

I’ll take it. Thank you :)

no problem :)

As she looks up the bus stops, and she quickly realizes this is her stop. Throwing profanities loudly enough to wake the older man at the front of the bus, she scrambles for her things, haphazardly thrown in the seat next to her, and gets off the bus. She pats herself down, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything as the doors of the bus shut, and starts down the road to her apartment complex.

She could probably navigate this road blind. There are many ways to reach the apartment she’s renting from the bus stop, but her favorite goes through the park. It’s a large area, full of big trees with thick foliage and leaves that brown in the fall. The paths are paved and winded, and the park benches are stained with dark wood stain and curve comfortably. She enjoys coming here in evenings she has off, watching the sun descend behind the top of the trees with a good book.

The air smells like oncoming rain now, and with headphones deep in her ears, she walks taking deep breaths and enjoying the clear atmosphere that seems so unlike the roads that surround the park. As soon as she spots the first raindrop falling from the sky, she pulls her hood over her head and smiles.

It’s minutes later, when single drops have picked up to a drizzle, that she gets a sinking feeling, her hair standing up on edge at the back of her neck, shoulders knotting closer to her ears. Someone is close to her.

With the wire pinched between her thumb and index, she pulls one earbud off and pays attention to the surrounding sounds. Sure enough there’s a second pair of footsteps behind her.

Fuck, if she gets kidnapped or attacked right now, she’s fucked. There are no witnesses, and at this time of night screaming for help would be futile. She checks her bag, but her paper spray is nowhere to be found.

Yeah. Definitely fucked.

Her hands go deep in her pockets, going for her phone, but as she hears the footsteps behind her picking up speed along with hers, she panics and grabs Dean’s instead. She doesn’t look for her own, there’s no time for that, so she does the first thing she thinks of.

She texts Sam.

I think I’m being followed.

what?

Yeah

wait what’s going on? are you okay? who’s following you?

I’m walking home from work. I can’t see who it is, but they’re definitely on my tail.

how are you even typing right now??

is there any buildings around?  somewhere public to get in?

It’s 3 am. Everything is shut and I’m in the middle of a fucking park, Sam.

Fuck, I’m fucked.

what are you doing at 3 am in the middle of a fucking park then?!

A hand falls on her shoulder and she goes to scream, before she’s quickly spun around. Her free hand is curled in a fist, ready to fall on the attacker’s nose, when they speak.

“Y/n! I thought it was you!”

“Connor?!” She squints and pushes her hair away from her forehead, heart just about ready to fail out of the fright she’s gotten. “Fuck’s sake, dude, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me in the middle of the night like this?!” Rain still falls on her, grounding her to the present, the fact she won’t have to fight for her life and corporeal integrity sinking in slowly.

Her neighbor smiles a crooked smile, watching her place a hand over her heart and taking a deep breath. His fluffy blonde hair is damp under the light rain, light green eyes glowing under the street lights. She’s so angry at him right now, she legitimately thought she was gonna die for a second there.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “I didn’t think to call out to you.” A shrug.

“It’s okay,” it’s really not, but there’s no point in staying angry at him. Besides, she figures she’ll be a little safer with him walking next to her all the way back to their apartment complex.

On the way back, they catch up. Connor is back in town after a long week and a half at his sister’s wedding. He’s in a brand new relationship with the guy he’s been pining over for like 9 months now, and he got a job at the bookstore, close to their building, he’s starting next week. He was out for a drink, he offers as an explanation, and was returning home, when he bumped into her. The park is also his favorite route to take.

The key dangles from her hands and finds a home in the lock and twists, while Y/n waves at her neighbor.

“Have a good night, Connor.”

“You too, Y/n.” It’s delivered with a wink and a bright smile.

The motions of dropping her bag by the kitchen counter, dumping the keys in the small bowl and hanging her coat on the hanger are delivered on autopilot in quick succession. Shoes toed off, hair pulled out of her lazy bun, she falls unceremoniously on her thrifted couch, feet suspended on the hand rest. Emmy must be asleep, the only lights on in the house are the fairy lights over the couch, setting a soft glow over the furniture. Y/n sighs. What a day.

Seconds before she falls asleep on the couch, a phone vibrates and it’s definitely not her own. Her eyes snap wide open, and she curses, fumbling with Dean’s device.

The messages are seven, and they all share the same panicked tone. Upon reading them, Y/n facepalms and curses, guilt weighing her down. Poor guy.

y/n?

what’s going on?

are you okay?

y/n

what the hell is going on.

you’re not replying.

please text me if you’re safe.

My God, Sam, I’m so sorry.

It was a neighbor/friend, he sneaked up on me.

you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night.

I’m genuinely so sorry, Sam, I had no idea it was him.

it’s okay

you were scared.

i am starting to question your choice in friends though.

Y/n grins for the first time that day. It’s wide and full. Sam sounds like a guy she’d hang out with.

Hahahah yeah.

I promise, Connor’s odd, but he means well.

well i have to go

but i’m glad you’re safe

Again, I’m really sorry to make you go through that.

it’s fine really.

Thank you.

Goodnight :)

Night :)

 ---

Part 2

A/N 2: Tell me how you’re liking the rewrite! 

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove​ @sammysgirl1997​ @kymberlytorres​ @bambi95-blog​ @demonic-meatball​ @thekarliwinchester​ @littlekay15​ @li-m-ii​  @thinspo-isuppose​ @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker​ @marichromatic​ @illuminatus42​ @lazy-author​ @mirandaaustin93​ @hauntedsiriel​ @pilaxia​ @devilgirlsarah​ @nobodys-baby-now​ @captiveties​ @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream​

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​

#sam winchesterx reader #sam x fem!reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn fanfic #sam x reader

[mischiefandspirits]

Colony of Gotham (2/7)

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

First Part ~ Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When winter came, Jack Drake used a Christmas gala as an excuse to approach Tim. He brought him into a side room to give him the news that Janet was dead, then proceeded to all but demand Tim return to the Drake mansion before the boy could fully process his words. When Tim tried to bring up the others, Jack stated Tim was nothing more than a charity case for Bruce just like Dick and Jason. Tim knew that wasn’t true for the older boys as Bruce had claimed them. For his own case, however, Jack’s words hit hard.

Bruce had yet to turn him. Tim knew the older boys had both been with him for years before their own turnings, but that was because neither had wanted it. Barbara had been changed right away, so why not Tim? He couldn’t bring himself to ask -- wasn't sure he could handle what would happen if Bruce said no -- but they had to know, right? They must have seen the way they watched them when they ate or discussed their nature. They were all detectives, after all.

He started to wonder if Jack might be right and Bruce didn’t really want him. Between that, his mother being dead, and his father actually wanting him, Tim didn’t fight it when Jack tried to lead him out.

Which was when Jason appeared in all his fury. He didn’t know why Jack was there, but he did know he had no right to be anywhere near Tim after what he’d done. Tim tried to talk him down, but that only made Jason angrier. He pulled Tim away from the man and told him Jack didn’t know what he was talking about. Bruce loved Tim just as he loved Jason and Dick. When Tim tried to argue, Jason realized how Tim had linked being turned with being family.

Temper rising and impulsivity at its peak, Jason heard Jack tell Tim they were leaving without even asking if that’s what he wanted, looked the man dead in the eyes, and bit his little brother. He made sure Jack couldn’t see his fangs or Tim’s wound as he gathered his brother into a hug and told Jack, in no uncertain terms, that Tim was theirs and if he had a problem with it he could take it up with Bruce’s lawyers. Then he led Tim away while passing him a dehydrated blood bar so he could complete his transformation.

Jason realized that maybe his timing needed work as the fever haze of turning began to wash over Tim, but the memory of the sunshine smile he’d received when his little brother had realized what he was doing and the tight hug Tim was giving him even in his declining consciousness made it worth it.

At least until they reached the car and Alfred leveled Jason with a look.

The moment Tim was tucked away in bed, Bruce and Dick laid into Jason about discretion and consent. Jason had been sure Tim wanted it, but doubt started to creep in as the younger boy slept through his transformation.

When Tim woke to an apology, he thought it meant Jason didn’t want him after all. The two quickly reassured one another then, with Barbara’s help, managed to make the others see reason as well.

When Tim’s animal form turned out to be a scrub jay, Jason never let his Tiny Jay live it down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kate Kane traveled the world for years to bring herself out of the downward spiral of alcohol and women she’d fallen into after leaving military academy, then returned to Gotham to make a name for herself as the Batwoman.

They called her a succubus with porcelain skin, lips painted with blood, and red fire for hair that had horn-like ears poking out. Unlike the rest of the Colony, she had eyes that could be seen, bright red with black sclera and slit pupils. There were hints of a curvy figure under the armor she donned. It was black with a bat painted onto the chest in blood.

They said she was beautiful.

They also said she was, without a doubt, the most vicious of the Colony. She didn’t carry guns, but she’d be happy to steal yours to use. It only took a few gunshots to men’s knees before word got around she favored women and protected them, though some never got the hint and still tried to flirt with her.

Bruce was not pleased when he found out who she was, but he knew the woman well enough to know she wouldn’t stop so he brought her into the fold as much as she would allow.

Jason and Tim hadn’t met her before, having joined the family after she’d left. The younger boy got along well enough with her, but the older boy was immediately taken with his new crazy vodka aunt (they were technically second cousins once removed, but everyone agreed aunt was simpler) and Bruce regretted introducing them when he realized the two were sneaking off to gun ranges together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A new team of heroes eventually arrived on the scene, one that would go on to cause problems for one Tim Wayne.

It began one month after the team’s formation when a certain clone -- in a fit of rebellion against one of the men whose DNA had formed him -- decided to take a trip to the one city the Justice League avoided like the plague and ordered their mentees to do the same.

Despite almost immediately regretting it, he held out for three hours before deciding to head back. The problem came when he realized he had no idea how to do that. He was completely lost and had left his phone at home to be sure Clark wouldn’t figure out where he’d gone.

Not for the first time, he wished he could fly.

He wandered around lost for another half an hour, not willing to trust any of the Gothamites that all seemed to eye him with an even greater distrust, before a boy stumbled out of a coffee shop and directly into him. Kon was impressed the smaller boy hadn’t managed to spill a drop of coffee nor lose his footing in the collision considering the massive bags under his eyes and the way he almost seemed to be vibrating from what Kon realized was a half-empty black coffee with six shots of espresso.

Tim managed to show him the way to the train station in between complaining that he was a creature of the night that didn’t need sleep, wishing destruction on his elder brother for dragging him into the city for a book signing before disappearing on him because of an emergency, the brightness of the day (despite the sky being more overcast than Kon had ever seen it in his month of life), and describing the video game he’d stayed up the night before playing.

Kon was honestly extremely worried about the guy, and he might have forced him to swap numbers before he left on the train so he could make sure Tim got home safe, even if the guy claimed he just needed to call his other brother to pick him up. Tim did get home safe, but he also got a second coffee beforehand so Kon felt justified.

In Tim’s defense, he required three times the amount of caffeine to feel the effects. Not in his defense, he had drunk more than three times the amount that day.

Tim did not appreciate the grumpy, yet overprotective puppy he’d somehow gained. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to block Kon’s number. Even when he put together that Conner “Kon” Kent was Superboy, a founding member of Young Justice.

Tim also didn’t appreciate his brothers teasing him over his new super friend.

The teasing only got worse some months later when Tim and Barbara went to a convention together where he got into a long conversation with one Keli Quintela about the integration of human and alien technology and the pros and cons of utilizing alien coding language in firewalls. They ended up spending most of the convention together and went home with each other’s numbers and emails. So of course she turned out to be Young Justice’s Teen Lantern.

He would never let his brothers know that Keli set mandatory downtime hours on all the projects they worked on together because, apparently, he had “an unhealthy work ethic” and needed to “take more personal time.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep it from Barbara. She soon started setting similar blocks on his other projects.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stephanie’s story is a familiar one. She took on the persona of Spoiler to help the Colony take down her father Cluemaster whenever he decided to cause trouble. She wore body armor she’d stolen from her father and dyed purple alongside a cloak and a mask that covered the bottom of her face. She interacted with the Robins the most during their on-again-off-again team up so it was no surprise she eventually realized there was more than one. This meant that when Jason decided he was getting too old for Robin, they went with the obvious successor.

Stephanie will never admit how long it took her to realize the lot of them weren’t demonic monstrosities. Or how long it took her to catch onto the vampire thing.

According to rumors, the Red Hood had been the leader of the Red Hood Gang when it was at its prime. He’d been brought back from the dead by Batwoman to serve as her right hand and he held a grudge against the Joker for leading the gang to ruin. He was a brute in armor to match hers under a black and blood-red hooded vest. A red mask covered his mouth and nose while a black domino with glowing red lenses hid his eyes. His hair was a fiery red that matched his mistress’s. They said he was just as vicious as her and while he was thrilled to beat you down with nothing more than his fists, and more than capable of doing so as well, he often used the guns hidden under his vest. Some said he never kills, others said he simply handed those he does over to his mistress. He never spoke but in growls, but his mistress always knew what he was saying.

That might have been because Jason only spoke over comms while his mask filtered his voice into animalistic growls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During this time, Cassandra Cain celebrated her eighth birthday by killing Miranda Row on her father’s orders. Cass, trained to understand body language better than most understand words, was horrified as she took in how the dying woman was feeling and fled both the scene and her father. He went down for the crime, but Miranda’s daughter Harper knew the man hadn’t acted alone and was out for blood.

On a happier note, this was also around when Stephanie was turned.

If anyone ever asked Stephanie how it happened, she would be sure to give them a story full of lies that was guaranteed to be far more dramatic than what actually happened while Tim would be off in the corner, blushing face hidden in his hands.

Because honestly, it was an accident.

She and Tim had been cuddling in the cave on their night off. Tim had gotten a little enthusiastic with his fangs, not that she minded at the time. Then she grabbed a drink from the mini-fridge. Unfortunately, neither of them realized just what she was drinking until it was too late.

A human is bitten by a vampire. A human drinks another human’s blood. The human is no longer a human.

The situation made the Colony more cautious around their significant others, to the amusement of one asexual-aromantic Jason Todd-Wayne. It wasn’t a problem for Bruce as Selina had turned before he’d ever met her, but Barbara and Kate both started keeping their blood locked in mini-fridges in their closets. Dick, unfortunately, wasn’t as lucky.

The manor was safe, but he wouldn’t be able to keep anything locked away at Artemis’s apartment without explanation. He could easily just keep all his normal blood at the manor, but he usually had a blood bar or two on him in case of emergency and Wally was known to steal food thanks to his speedster-increased metabolism. The bars weren’t toxic to humans in case someone happened to get their hands on one and Wally had only made the mistake of stealing one once before when Dick had first turned (he’d eaten it too fast to react to the taste, but had immediately gagged after and sworn off ever trying one again), but Dick was still nervous one or both of his partners might get their hands on one by accident.

As a result, he stopped nibbling on Wally and Artemis during intimate moments just in case, something that did not go unnoticed. Dick was a biter, so when he suddenly stopped out of nowhere the two began to worry. They tried to talk to him about it, but he talked around them or played dumb. Artemis then texted Jason, Artemis Grace, and Barbara.

Jason simply sent her a vomiting emoji before saying if she still wanted to come with him and Kate to the gun range, she wasn’t allowed to talk about doing that kind of stuff with his brother around him ever again.

Grace advised them that if Dick wasn’t satisfying them then they should rid themselves of him. When Artemis tried to say that wasn’t the problem, all she received in response was a shrugging emoji.

Barbara said she didn’t know but she’d try to talk to him, then immediately texted Dick to tell him to either get over his fear or tell his partners what was up.

Dick worried over it for a week before blurting out that he was a vampire while the three were cuddling in bed.

The two laughed, assuming it was another of his jokes, until they realized he wasn’t laughing but hiding behind his hands. The three had had a long conversation after that about the nature of vampires, how Dick fed, and the powers and limitations that came with vampirism, the latter of which included Wally receiving a painful kick to the shin over a glitter joke.

The two had taken it well, having seen weirder things in their lives, and Artemis got a lockbox for Dick to keep his bars in to prevent any accidents that could come from Wally’s hunger-induced amnesia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Elizabeth “Bette” Kane was first cousins once removed with Kate Kane, which is how she ended up getting sent to her aunt’s for the summer. She had been excited at first since she knew how much Kate liked to party, but she was more than disappointed when she found out she’d been signed up for a science summer camp at Wayne Enterprises. She fought with her aunt over it and when that didn’t work, she went looking for dirt. That was how she’d accidentally stumbled upon the Batcave.

Kate and Bruce unfortunately didn’t have enough time to figure out what to do about it before something else took precedence.

Barbara was shot by the Joker.

That night affected three young women’s lives.

Barbara’s vampiric durability meant the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but her mobility was still too limited for her to ever go out in the field again. After some time to come to terms with her new state, she settled into the role of Pythia.

It was a serpent made of code, slithering through servers and whispering into the ears of the Colony. It was never seen, only heard. It saw all. It knew all. Beware if it turned its attention to you.

Stephanie stepped up as Batgirl. They needed the cover and she honestly butt heads with Bruce too much to be a good Robin anyway. Plus, purple was much more her color.

Batgirl had grown stronger. When you could see her, she was nothing more than a shadow cloaked in violet. However, it was rare you’d see anything. Thanks to the theft of an invisibility device Penguin had built for her father, sometimes you couldn’t even see her when she was right in front of you.

Bette was in the cave while the others were hunting down Joker, Kate too worried to leave her at home until they were sure he didn’t know their identities. As she watched the Colony work, it suddenly hit her what her aunt was doing as Batwoman. After that day, she put more effort into the camp and even developed an interest in medicine. At the same time, she began to learn how to fight from her aunt. When the summer came to an end, she pulled some strings to get enrolled in Gotham Academy so she could stay with Kate. Then she took her place as Tim’s partner by offering her fashion and makeup skills.

“The shadows have started to overwhelm the Bloody Robin,” people whispered.

The ones that had always wrapped around him rose up in the form of a hood while darkness had ensnared his limbs, leaving only hints of green on his clawed feet and hands. The formation of the hood, though, revealed his neck.

And the long bloody gash that encircled it.

They say the change was done by Batman, that he tore Robin’s head off to bring out his darkness.

During this time, Barbara was dealing with the trauma of what had happened to her. One of the ways she did this was by joining an online support group for trauma survivors. It was through the chatroom that she met Hank Hall and his girlfriend Dawn Granger. The three quickly became friends. Hank was grumpy but well-meaning in a way Barbara was all too familiar with. Dove was more openly kind and caring, though Barbara could see a viciousness lurking beneath.

The three talked for weeks before deciding to meet up for lunch when Barbara was on a trip to D.C. It was only then that she looked them up, not wanting to risk meeting them in person if they were up to something.

She took the teasing over having super friends with far more dignity than the boys. Admittedly their status as super friends was more debatable since the couple were semi-retired and only really went out in emergency cases or as favors to their old Titans friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bart Allen heard his Grandma Iris and Uncle Wally talking about the latter going on another trip to Gotham, he was ecstatic. The myths about Gotham were always the best horror stories to listen to growing up in the future and now that he was Kid Flash he was sure Wally would let him go with him. He’d been waiting for his opportunity since he’d taken the name and joined Young Justice, but there had always been things in the way. Wally had a mission. Dick was busy so Tigress had come to Central instead. Bart had a mission. Bart had another mission. The police commissioner's daughter got shot so no one was going to Gotham. So on and so forth.

It had been over a year, but finally, Wally was going to Gotham and Bart had nothing planned.

“No, you can’t come,” Wally said immediately.

“Why not?” Bart whined.

“Gotham’s too dangerous,” Iris said, from where she was folding towels. She gave Wally a pointed look. “Neither of you need to be going there.”

Wally shrugged.

“But -”

“No,” the two adults cut over Bart.

He went anyway.

Unfortunately, while he could run just as fast as his uncle-slash-first cousin once removed, he wasn’t quite as coordinated as the older speedster so he lost track of him halfway through the city. Not managing to find him again, he ended up deciding to just grab something to eat and head back. Deciding to ask for a local’s opinion, he ran around until he spotted someone moderately trustworthy looking (it took longer than it would normally, but he’d expected that in Gotham). When the shorter teen offhandedly mentioned he was sneaking away from his brothers and their friends, Bart invited him to come eat with him. When the guy couldn’t seem to remember when the last time he ate was, the invitation turned into a kidnapping.

The guy, Tim, was pretty cool even if he clearly couldn’t take care of himself. He actually kind of reminded Bart of the friends Kon and Keli had mentioned having in Gotham, so maybe a lack of self-care was a Gotham thing. Either way, Bart had them swap numbers and proceeded to bother his new friend around mealtimes to make sure he ate.

Tim hadn’t even needed to look up Bart since Dick showed up in his room with a big grin talking about how Wally’s nephew had gotten a new Gotham friend named Tim.

The younger brother wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve this. He hadn’t asked for it. Why did these people keep showing up out of nowhere!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TFW you find out scrub jays are the only non-primate and non-dolphin shown to plan ahead for the future and just can't help yourself.

Steph wears her suit from Young Justice as Spoiler and her Rebirth Spoiler suit as Batgirl.

Jason's Red Hood suit is a mixup. It's the typical Red Hood suit, but the helmet and jacket are swapped out for the mask and vest from Red Hood: Outlaw.

The updated Robin suit is similar to Damian's from the animated movies, just with the usual black robin mask. And bloody.

Vampires' animal forms:

Tim: Woodhouse's scrub jay

Kate & Bette: Gray bat

Stephanie: Golden jackal

#batman #batfam #colony of gotham #fanfiction

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 31

Warning: Profanity

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​,  @ocfairygodmother​

Two days later he finds himself on a chartered plane to The Kimberley; paying handsomely and out of pocket for the privacy and security that a flight of that nature could...and would...provide him with. Contacting an old buddy from his SASR days that had started his own travel company flying people throughout the northern territory of Australia; mostly tourists wanting to spend their time roaming  the remotest of places. Thrill seekers who wanted to try their hand at cliff diving or getting up close and personal with the prolific wildlife;   exploring the waterfalls and the gorges and getting a taste of life in the outback. When Tyler had called and offered triple what one day of flights would bring in plus a bonus for fuel and for a vow silence, his buddy had jumped at the chance. Clearing his schedule for twenty-five hours and offering at be at Tyler’s beck and call, promising not to ask any questions or expect any answers or explanations. He was on a need to know basis, and he simply didn’t need to know.

He rents a vehicle in Broome under a fake name; paying cash and giving extra when he fails to provide any identification verifying who  he is.  He barely speaks; simple yes or no answers, never giving too much or too little. Keeping his sunglasses over his eyes and his ball cap on his head; beard trimmed close to his face; hair tightly cropped to the scalp.  He wants to keep things on the down low just in case he is on someone’s radar. The less people who know his business, the better. Fewer bread crumbs left scattered about means he has a better chance of keeping things off the grid. If someone IS watching him and his family, it’s of dire importance to keep things quiet. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t arouse suspicion. And most importantly, don’t put an even bigger target on your back.

He sits in the car rental parking lot; behind the wheel of a Range Rover that’s used to the roads and can handle the rugged and sometimes unforgiving terrain, checking his text messages and emails. The mystery of who Salena actually is continues to deepen; there’s no record of anyone with that name -first or last- having ever attended college of university anywhere in Australia within the past twenty years. Nothing found through the department of transport; no record of a driver’s license issued through them, no vehicle ownership, no tickets or other driving infractions. It’s going to take long than Tyler had anticipated or hoped; his contacts needing time to hack into government databases. Years on the job have left him a wealth of ‘friends’; people who respect and trust him ,who he in turn can rely on to not ask too many questions and he knows won’t turn him away when he shows up out of the blue asking for help.

There had been  no luck on the Jeep; other than learning that the plates had been stolen three days before from a grocery store parking lot in Victoria. How they’d ended up on a vehicle in Cooktown presents an even bigger question. He’d wanted to avoid confronting Salena himself; hoping he’d get the answers he wanted -and needed-without resorting to calling her out. He plans to give it three more days. If he hears nothing by the end of the week, he will go over to the house and demand she tell him what the fuck is going on. No one puts his family in jeopardy. Perceived or not. And if he doesn’t hear what he wants, she will find out the hard way just how savage he can actually be.

He calls home. One of the ‘rules’ they’d adopted years ago -and stuck to - when they’d first gotten married was to always call when you reach your destination; so the other knows that you’ve arrived safe and sound.  The other is that you never leave the house without saying ‘I love you’. Life is too short, and if Dhaka had taught them anything.  it was how quickly and drastically things could go wrong;  your entire existence dramatically -and permanently- altered.  And although he hadn’t seen the Jeep or the driver in the past forty eight hours, the lack of leads and solid information have left a bitter taste in his mouth, along with the even more speculation and suspicion. Things are NOT what they seem. He’s one hundred percent sure of that. It isn’t paranoia or hypervigilance or a case of him being an overprotective husband and father; it’s fact. The neighbour and the Jeep driver both sounding the alarm and kicking his instincts into high gear.

He hasn’t said a word. Not wanting to spook her or the kids. For now he simply plays his cards close to his chest. Keeping an eye on everyone and everything; coming up with a game plan for every possible scenario.

“But when will you be home?” Tanner asks, sounding dangerously close to tears. He’d expected Millie or TJ to be the emotional and sensitive ones; they’ve always taken his absences a lot of harder than their brother. Tanner had always been the strong and stoic one; the emotional and moral support for his siblings. But since Tyler’s return from New Zealand, the dynamic between them has changed. Their relationship tighter and stronger than ever.

“I’ll be there when you get home from school tomorrow,” Tyler assures him, his own lump of emotion sitting squarely and solidly in his throat. It’s so fucking hard. Leaving them. Even when it’s just an overnight trip.

“You promise?”

“I promise. I just have a couple of things to do. An old friend to see. Then I’m coming right home.”

“”You’ll be here when we get off the bus?”

“I will. And I tell you, I’ll pick you guys up. We’ll go out and do something before going home. Just the three of us. Okay?”

“Okay daddy,” Tanner swallows noisily.

“You tell Millie and TJ what I said.  That I’ll meet you guys at school. And you help out your mum, yeah? You do whatever she saw and whatever she asks. No giving her a hard time. Promise?”

“I promise. You promise, too? That you’ll be there to pick us up?”

“I promise, mate. I’ll be there.”

“I love you, daddy.”

“I love you too. And I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me talk to mommy.”

“Okay,” Tanner sniffles noisily, and there’s a slight rustling as the phone is passed from one person to the other, followed by Esme giving gentle yet firm orders about starting -and finishing- homework before anyone is allowed time on the beach.

“You got there okay?” She speaks to him now, voice quiet and tired.

“Safe and sound. It’ll take a couple of hours to get there. I don’t know how good the reception is going to be when I get there. It used to be shit when I lived there.”

“That must have been so disappointing for you and your harem of women,” she teases. “Hard to sext with unreliable reception.”

“You’re a smart ass, you know that?”

“So you tell me.”

“If the signal is decent later, I’ll sext you later.”

“Yeah?” she laughs. “I think I’d rather it happen over the phone. So I can hear your voice. I’d much rather hear you say disgustingly dirty things than type them. You’re a master of naughty talk. And in that voice, ” she sighs happily, then turns serious. “You sound tired.”

“I am. It wasn’t a good night last night.”

Another nightmare; a new one this time. Of masked and heavily armed men breaking into the house and binding him to a chair and  forcing him to watch as they raped and murdered his wife. Then shooting him -non fatally- before taking off with the kids. He can still hear their voices; his children...his flesh and blood...screaming in terror and pleading with him to help them. He’d woken up with a choked sob; bolting into a sitting position, body covered head to toe in sweat, tears streaming down his face and his heart pounding and his chest aching. Somehow he’d managed to not wake Esme up, and for an hour he’d laid beside her watching her sleep. Marvelling in the way the moonlight bathed her skin in an ethereal glow and how her lips were curved into the smallest and softest of smiles; the ends of her eyelashes brushing against the top of her cheeks and her body rising and falling with each slow, steady breath.

And when she’d mentioned at breakfast how restless he’d been through the night, he’d lied and placed the blame on his shoulder and knee. She didn’t need to hear that; the horrific and grotesque details of some fucked up night terror. In the same way he’d never tell her about Gaspar’s real offer and the things Asif had planned for her.

“You’re okay now?” she asks. “Is it any better?”

He wants to tell her that physically he feels pretty damn good; nothing more than a dull ache in the shoulder and a stiff knee. Mentally he’s struggling. The cravings for the Oxy have diminished, but the ones for booze are powerful and nearly all consuming. It’s the stress of not knowing what’s happening; the worry of the unknown. Just exactly who is the new next door neighbor? Who was it that had been watching him and the kids? Is his family going to be safe while he’s gone? Ovi and Kyle are there; and while it gives him some piece of mind, they don’t stand a chance against the type of people that Tyler has faced.

“It’s better,” he replies. “Knee’s a bit stiff but that’s nothing new. I’m always going to hobble like I’m eighty. I’m used to it now.”

“Well for what it’s worth, I think your hobble is kind of cute,” she says.

“I’d like to tell you that that makes me feel better, but when you use the word cute…”

“You ARE cute though. In a lot of ways. And you can’t convince me otherwise. You call me cute.”

“Because you ARE cute. You were especially cute this morning when you were looking up at me while waking me up by sucking my…”

“Okay,” she interrupts with a giggle. “We do not need a play by play of this morning. Because it will only get me all hot and bothered and now is not a good time to be hot and bothered. Behave yourself, okay? Don’t get into any trouble.”

“I promise I will not get into any drunken bar brawls.”

“I’d like you stay sober, please. I know how much Koen likes his beer and he’s going to want a drinking buddy and he hasn’t seen you in a long time and...”

“I know how to say no. I’m forty years old. I won’t give in to peer pressure.”

“I just worry about you. I know you’re in a bad place right now and being away from home might make the urges stronger and…”

“ I’m not going to lose you. Or my kids. I’ve got this. It’s not going to beat me.”

“You’re a strong man, Tyler Rake. Regardless of what you think.”

He smiles. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too. Come home quick, play? We miss you. I miss you.”

“That soon?” He grins. “That’s gotta be a record.”

“Well I’ve gotten used to you being around. I know I sometimes bitch and moan about you…”

“Sometimes?”

“...but I still like having you here.”

“Yeah? Well I like being there. You make it pretty easy to stick around.”

“Even with all my bitching and moaning?”

“Even then.”  

“Drive safe,  okay? And don’t tell me not to worry about you because that will never happen. If you can get a signal, call me later. Just so I know how you are. I kind of like hearing your voice  before I go to sleep.”

“I will,” Tyler promises. “I’ll be home tomorrow. My flight gets in at noon.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Esme, you don’t…”

“I’ll pick you up,” she insists. “Don’t give me a hard time about this. Just me do something nice for you, alright?”

He smiles. “Alright.”

“We’ll talk soon. I love you, Tyler.”

He’s always loved the way his name has sounded coming out of her mouth. Whether it’s sweet and loving like just now,  or soft and sleepy when he wakes her up after she’s falling asleep against him on the couch. Or   when she’s in the midst of a round of hysterical giggles when he’s tickling her mercilessly or when it’s interspersed with moans and sighs during more intimate moments or she’s screaming it loud enough to wake the dead.

“I love you, Esme,” he says in return. “So much. I’ll see you when I see you.”

She gives a small laugh. “You haven’t said that in a long time. That used to be our ‘thing’. Whenever you’d leave for a job, you never left without saying that. I’ve missed it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that she disconnects the call. And for several minutes he sits there in that dusty parking lot, tears stinging his eyes as he stares down at the phone clutched tightly in his hand.

****

The road is ragged and rough, but there’s a familiarity to it that Tyler has missed. The way the SUV rocks and slides; the crunch and pop of stone and dirt under the tires and the patter of pebbles against metal and the windshield. The plume of dust that is kicked up behind him.  It’s been years since he’s been out this way; returning once shortly after he’d finished his stint in rehab after Dhaka. His counsellor convincing him that it would be beneficial to his progress if he visited one last time; the act of saying goodbye to that part of his past giving him a sense of closure, and making it easier for him to get on with the present AND the future. But he’d felt nothing upon his return; he’d never formed any kind of bond with the place, using it primarily as just somewhere to eat and lay his head. And drink himself into oblivion nearly every night.

His mind is much clearer now. It’s been years since he’d last taken Oxy, and six months since even a drop of booze. He feels a little more nostalgic;  the mountain range and the sparse treeline coming into view, spying the rusted old gate that’s still standing after all these years.

He immediately thinks of that afternoon seven years ago when he’d returned home to find a helicopter sitting in his front yard and Nik waiting for him on the porch. He’d been irritated at first; all he’d wanted was to be alone and to wallow in his own self pity and maybe even drink and drug himself to death. Then he’d realized that Nik was likely bringing what he needed the most: an escape. That she had something big for him; a job he couldn’t -and wouldn’t- refuse.  And he remembers standing in the kitchen as she sent into a spiel about one drug dealer snatching another drug dealer’s kid and how he was being held in Dhaka. The front door had been open and he’d let his mind wander as she spoke and that’s when he saw her: a tiny brunette with an impossibly tight and toned body in jean shorts, tank top, and flip flops, climbing out of the helicopter.  Chatting and laughing over her shoulder with Yaz as she headed towards the shack. Pausing on the porch as Maggie -his old and faithful canine companion- happily greeted the newcomer; immediately flopping over onto her back and demanding stomach rubs.

He’d stood there watching; barely hearing a word Nik said as he noted all the tattoos and the piercings in her nose and and just below her bottom lip. The way one strap of the tank top kept slipping off her shoulder.  Knowing that his life was about to change, but never imagining just how much.

Koen is standing on the front porch when Tyler steps out of the SUV; an Australian cattle dog with a yellow bandana tied around its neck sitting patiently as his friend’s side, tail wagging in excitement. Koen’s one of his oldest -and dearest- friends; serving together throughout their years in the SASR. Walking through hell together in war zones like Kabul and Kandahar; dodging bullets and escaping death and shedding blood, sweat, and tears. He’s a decade older than Tyler; grittier, weathered. Several inches shorter; stocky and wide, his youthful and more muscular days behind him. But he’s rough; tough as nails and fearless. And even now Tyler would still trust him to have his back in even the most dire and dangerous of situations.

“Jesus...Christ…”  Koen grumbles as Tyler approaches, and then ruffles the scruff of the dog’s neck. “...Sadie, get the shotgun. We’ve got a sketchy bastard in our midst.”

“Is Sadie your right palm or your left?” Tyler inquires.

“Always were a smart ass little prick. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Nope. But I kiss yours.”

Koen smirks, and in two strides he’s off the porch and embracing Tyler warmly; a tight, affectionate huge that comes with years of surviving the worst together. “Holy shit…” he drawls, and gives Tyler’s hair a tussle and then holds him out at arms length. “...you’re a big bastard now, ain’t ya.”

“Two thirty, two thirty five. Maybe a bit heavier.”

Koen squeezes Tyler’s shoulders, then his biceps. “Like a fucking brick wall. What the hell she been feeding ya?”

“Lots of good shit. She treats me right. I can’t complain.”

“Can’t believe she’s still putting up with the likes of you. I gave her the chance, you know. When you were all laid up in that hospital with a tube in your dick. Told her if she wanted a real man, I was ready, willing, and able.  She wouldn’t take me up on it, though. Already attached to you for some fucking reason. How you keeping? Things are good? You look good.”

“I feel good. What’s this?” He slaps the back of his hand against Koen’s stomach. “When ya due?”

“I oughta slap that shit eating grin clear off your face. And I would if I hadn’t missed your sorry face. Good to you, mate. Damn good to see you.” Koen embraces him once again. “Wasn’t sure you’d make it. Didn’t look too good for a while.”

“That was almost seven years ago,” Tyler points out.,

“Been that fucking long?” Koen gives a long, low whistle and shakes his head. “Sometimes feels like it was just yesterday. Getting that call. How she ever tracked me down while you were in a coma, I’ll never know.”

“A nurse gave her my phone. She just went through my contacts, picked a name, and hoped for the best.”

“You’re a fucking lucky bastard, you know. Having a girl like that. Any lady that will stick by your side like that...do the things she did...well that’s a lady worth keeping. You’ve been treating her right, I hope. Because I’m not above calling her and finding out. Or kicking your ass if she’s got bad tales to tell.”

“We’ve been through some shit,” Tyler admits. “But she’s still hanging in there. For some reason or another.”

“Needs her goddamn head read, if you ask me. Why should she be stuck with that,” he nods at Tyler. “When she could have this?”

Tyler just chuckles, and Koen slings an arm around him and leads the way inside.

****

The shack is more habitable now; the living area, bedroom, and kitchen are still open concept, but a wall now separates them from the bathroom. There’s insulation and sheetrock; no rickety wooden planks with gaps and holes that used to let in the rain and dirt when the wind storms picked up. It’s plain yet bright; light beige pint, a wood floor glazed over with a natural stain, hand constructed butcher block counter tops in the kitchen and a toilet, sink, and tub in sparkling condition. The roof is still tin though, and Tyler can vividly recall the sound of rain hammering against it; lonesome and depressing on the darkest and emptier of nights.

Koen gestures for him to take a seat at the kitchen table -the same one that had been there when Tyler had given him the place nearly seven years ago- and he takes a seat in one of the weathered and wobbly chairs. Watching as his old friend moves to the cupboard above the sink and takes out two glasses and a half empty bottle of whisky. Tyler  doesn’t say anything at first; silent as Koen pours the amber coloured liquor into the glasses and then places one in front of him before taking a seat across the table.

He considers it; just ONE drink. Something to take the edge of. His fingertips against the cold, smooth surface of the glass; smelling it, tasting it on his lips and his tongue. The craving gnaws at his belly and preys on his mind; telling him he needs it. Deserves it. And the rim of the glass is pressed against his lips when the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window catches the white gold of his wedding band. The glint capturing his attention; a proverbial kick in the ass for even considering what he was about to do. And he sets the glass down on the table without taking a single sip.

Koen frowns. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t do this anymore,” Tyler says.  “Drink. I haven’t for six months.”

He expects some kind of trash talking, or at least a laugh and incredulous shake of the head. But Koen just gives a nod of understanding and then stands up, carrying the glass to the sink and dumping the whisky down the drain.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say something?” He asks, then grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and then sets it down in front of Tyler before returning to his seat. “Sober, huh?”

“Half a year now.”

“Must have been hard.”

“Still is,” Tyler admits. “But I made a promise.  To stay clean. To my wife and my kids. And that’s a promise I intend to keep.”

Koen grins. “Good man. About time you cleaned yourself up. You were on a pretty dangerous path there. Didn’t like the way you were headed. But you’re a stubborn bastard and you wouldn’t listen to a damn thing I had to say. Go figure it took a pretty girl to get through to you. She’s good?”

“She’s  good,” he confirms. “Very good.”

“And the kids?”

“Getting big. Every day I look at them and I notice things changing about them. And they’re smart. Crazy smart. Especially Millie. So much like her mom.”

“Well thank God she got the brains from her momma because if she got the looks and the smarts from you, I’d pity the poor child. And the new one? How’s she doing?”

“Growing like a weed. Still tiny as hell though. Looks just like Esme.”

He reaches into the side pocket of his cargo short and takes out his phone; bringing up the photo gallery and then passing the cell to his friend.

“Now ain’t she a teeny thing,” Koen smiles, as he scrolls through the pictures. “How does something that small come from the likes of you? And Jesus, look at the twins. Spitting image of you. Especially this little bloke…” he holds the screen out towards Tyler, showing him a picture of Tanner taken just minutes after  he’d gotten Tyler’s old hair cut; the one he’d been sporting when he’d met Esme. “...which one is he?”

“That’s Tanner. The youngest of the two.”

“Fucking looks just like you. Especially with that hair. That’s how I remember you looking. With that hair. Now you got a mini me wandering around out there. Hope all the parents lock their daughters up. Especially if he’s anything like you. You’re very fortunate, you know. Never thought I’d see you like this...a husband...a father...but I’m glad I did. If anyone deserved to get their shit together and deserved to have a second chance at life, it was you. And this…” he holds the phone out once again; a candid photo of Esme on the beach. A close up that Tyler had taken after he’d tried to teach her how to surf; her hair wet and dangling down the sides of her face,  freckles of sand on her forehead and cheeks, a slight sunburn on the bridge of her nose, eyes sparkling as she smiled.  

“You lucky fucker,” Koen scoffs. “You better keep on the straight and arrow, ‘cause I reckon there’s a lot of blokes that wouldn’t mind taking your place beside the likes of her.”

“She’s definitely a keeper,” Tyler agrees. “I’m not letting her go anytime soon.”

“Or ever,” his friend says, and he nods. “I was surprised when you called and said you were taking a trip out here.  Didn’t expect to you see until next weekend when I gave up the place up for a couple of days. What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“I’ve got something I want to run by you. An idea. A business proposition. I thought it was best if I didn’t wait until next week. And that we should talk about it face to face.”

“Sounds pretty serious. You okay?”

“I’ve got some shit going on.” Tyler admits.

“The PTSD still?”

He nods.

“That shit is a fucking nightmare,” Koen mutters, and takes a long swallow of whisky. “So what’s this about? This idea? This business thing?”

“I’m getting back into the game.”

“The mercenary gig? Why the fuck would you want to do that? Didn’t learn your lesson the first time you took a bullet to the throat?”

“This won’t be like the last time. This is different. I’m different.”

“You’re fucking crazy is what you are. Wanting to get back into that shit. You’ve got a family now. Think that’s the best life for them? For a wife and kids? Especially five little ones. Why would you want to put them through that? Going away and leaving them to wonder if daddy’s ever coming home?”

“Leave my kids out of this. It has nothing to do with them.”

“It has everything to do with them,” Koen growls. “I can see why you’d want to do this if you were alone and had nothing to lose. But fuck, mate. You’ve got everything to lose. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Tyler scowls. “You going to listen to what I have to say or are you just going to keep lecturing me?”

“I should be beating your ass is what I should be doing. For being so fucking stupid.”

“You done? You going to let me talk or…”

“I need another drink to put up with the likes of you,” Koen mutters, then gets up from the table and pours himself another.

“I’m starting my own business,” Tyler tells him.

“Your own merc business?”

He nods.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Koen knocks back the whisky in one gulp. “Why the ever loving hell?”

“I’ve already started getting the word out. Reaching out to people I’ve done jobs for, guys I’ve worked with, contacts I’ve held onto. Once things really start spreading around, there won’t be a shortage of jobs. And guys willing to jump ship to come work for me.”

“So why you here? Why come talk to me?”

“I’m offering you a job.”

Koen’s eyes narrow. “As a merc?”

“A well paid one.”

“Holy...shit…” Koen chuckles and shakes his head. “What in the blue hell?”

“You and I go back a lot of years,” Tyler reminds him.

“A hell of a lot,” his friend agrees.

And I wouldn’t come to you if I didn’t trust you. With my life I know a lot of guys...a lot of experienced mercs...and I still would want you having my back over any of them.”

“Don’t try and sweet talk me, blue eyes. Your pretty face won’t work its magic on me.”

“You’ve got the experience. You’ve put in a fuck of a lot of years with the SARS. Even more than me.  So you’d be able to do this. You’re a hell of a good shot, you’ve got tons of combat experience, and you know your way around a tons of different weapons. Your hand to hand combat leaves a little to be desired, but…”

“A little to be desired, huh? How about we go outside right now and I show you how good my hands are.”

Tyler scoffs. “You wanting me to fight me or are you offering to jerk me off?”

Koen smirks.

“I know your military benefits are shit. Probably not much more than mine. You can’t live off that forever. I’m offering you a chance of a lifetime here. We’re talking big money.”

“How big?”

“These would be big jobs. High profile clients. You know that gig I had in Ireland? Right before we moved back here?”

Koen nods.

“I got five million for that. And that was only part of the job. I didn’t even need to see it through. Imagine the kind of payouts we’d bring in from big spenders?”

“Are you telling me I’m sitting across from a millionaire right now?”

Tyler just smiles.

“Jesus fuck. Are you serious?”

“I won’t tell you who paid me. That doesn’t matter. But we’d be attracting people with even more money and even bigger scores to settle. You can’t tell me that doesn’t sound like something you’d go for.”

“How many of us are there?”

“I’ve got three so far. An ex Marine, Ovi…”

“The kind you pulled out of Dhaka?”

“...and Rata.”

Koen’s glass is pressed against his lips. “You already talked to that rat bastard? Before me? When?”

“Last night he came by the house. He was in Cairns with that new girlfriend of his. Didn’t take much to get him to come on board.”

“Yeah, he’s always been a few bricks short a load, though.”

“I need you in on this,” Tyler insists. “You’d be the perfect fit. I know the things you can do. I saw them...for myself...in Kabul and Kandahar. This is right up your alley.”

“How the hell are you going to pull this off? Get everything you need? Guns, ammo, whatever the fuck else a merc uses.”

“You don’t spend years as a mercenary and not make contacts. Reliable ones. I’ve got a guy stopping here in the morning.  He has a haul of stuff for me. Rifles, handguns, utility vests, grenades. You name it. And there’s more where that came from. A lot more.”

“You’re fucking insane, you know that? Getting mixed up with this shit again.”

“Maybe,” Tyler admits. “But it’s what I know. It’s who I am. Why piss away an opportunity like this?”

Koen sighs, then shakes his head and gets up to fetch himself another drink.

“So,” Tyler says, as he leans back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. “You in or out?”

“Fuck it,” Koen growls, then downs his drink and slams the empty glass down on the counter top. “I’m in.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #best part of me #extraction #chris hemsworth character

[rndyounghowze]

Black Noses And My Personal History With White Supremacy

I finally got the courage to talk about something that Dana has been challenging me to post about for a while. #blm #stopwhiteterrorism

By Ricky and Dana Young-Howze

Mays Landing, NJ

Venmo: @rndyounghowze

I have a very vivid memory of being teased on the school bus in elementary school for having “a black nose and lips”. Until I got glasses and was diagnosed with Tourettes it was the common theme of my playground bullying. My biggest role model at the time was our bus driver Mr. Garland (I think that was his name) because he defended me. I remember trying to make up some story about how I got plastic surgery and they messed up my nose. He looked me dead in the eye and said “we have to be proud of what we look like. We are beautiful inside and out. They’re ugly on the inside. That’s what makes us better”.

I lived with my grandmother during the week and my parents on the weekends. My mom and dad lived in one of the first “projects” in the US and at that time they were one of two white families living there. I would be playing with the kids in the playground and a Black mom who would be watching us would tell me to come up to them and she would hold my chin in her hand and turn my head for inspection to the other mothers sitting there smoking cigarettes. She would tell me “I don’t care what your mom and dad told you” and would let me go back and play. I never really knew what she meant.

Flash forward to high school. I decided that I wanted to dive into my family history. I was in a play about the Confederate Flag and I remembered that I had family on both sides of the war. I had enough info about my family to join the Sons of Confederate Veterans. I also knew that my family up In Kentucky had fought in the Union. I was proud to have “heritage” on both sides.

I was rooting through photo albums in my Dad’s mom’s house. I came upon a family bible that was really old. It had to be old enough to be owned by the parts of the family that lived in the Appalachian Mountains in the 1800’s. Family bibles used to have these front pages that listed weddings and births. Listed in the middle is a marriage between a woman with the last name Jung and a man named Richard with no last name. This would not have meant anything except that after his name they took the time to list him as “a n*****r”. They then spent a paragraph talking about how he fought in the Civil War and saved lives in a battle by shooting a superior officer and allowing the company to retreat. So he was a n*****r but he was a “good n*****r”.

I knew that the story was that our family had changed our last name from Jung to Young to avoid discrimination. My Dad’s side of the family has an outstanding military history and I know they were worried about appearing to have German ties in the war. I eventually went across the street and asked my great grandfather about this. The only thing he ever told me was “marry a girl with the Irish in her. It’s the best thing you could do.” My great grandfather passed away while I was in Highschool. My grandfather passed away in college. After the funeral I went to the house and looked for the family Bible. I had held it in my hand four times in three years. It was gone. I have never found it again. My Dad has special needs, his mom has dementia. The rest of my Dad’s family has never spoken to me after the funeral. It may be because I married a Black person. Maybe not. I will never know.

One time while driving through my mom’s side of the family’s hometown I saw a church sign that had the family name on it. I asked why we never went there and she just casually said “that must belong to the Black families that live here that share our last name”. I was floored by this. We had a black side of the family? What!? She was quick to tell me that they were in no way related. It was just that the family was as old as we were and had lived in that town as long as we had. My family has lived there and owned land there since before the Civil War. I have been digging into the genealogy based on what she has told me and after two or three generations the family line with our last name seems to disappear. Two white branches of the family go back eight or so generations and seem to have married into the family three generations or so back but there don’t seem to be any birth or death records in their town that support her story that the family had been there for a very long time. There is no not-slave-owning explanation for this. To this day my grandmother refuses to talk about it. She leans into the Scots-Irish side of the story.

In grad school when I first met Dana they made sure to do two things: Tell a very wrong Obama joke and then ask me what I was mixed with. The joke was to see if I reacted to the joke in a ”white way” (their words). If I did they would never feel comfortable being alone with me ever much less date me. The second question is because they saw what every other Black person I know saw. I told them what I knew about the probable Black man on my Dad’s side and my theory about my Mom's side. They kinda looked flabbergasted. Like they were surprised I admitted it.

Dana and I fell hard in love and spent three years trying to do the long-distance relationship thing. We had very long talks about race and whiteness. We had to have massive discussions about privilege and culture. I had reading lists and albums and homework that I had to do and Dana readily admits that in a lot of ways I already ”got it”. However, it was never enough. They wanted me to make a conscious decision to marry into a black family and know what I was getting into.

In August of 2014, I had just gotten back from spending a summer with Dana and I was using my hour before work to buy an engagement ring. I had two months to move to NJ so that we could start a job together. I heard on the news that Michael Brown was shot by a white cop in Ferguson. It hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the first time that the weight of what I was doing rang home in the deepest parts of me. I was marrying a Black person. At the time I wanted to bring children into this world. It finally dawned on me that those children were going to be Black. Just as the math in my childhood was Black nose+white skin=white guy the calculus done in a cop’s head was not going to add up well for our children. I worked at a church so I went to the altar and prayed. I prayed for a whole hour. I got the ring and moved to NJ. Dana and I were married five months later. I never looked back.

Why am I saying this now? Because white supremacy is the scourge of American Theatre. It's the reason why our Asian American artists are afraid to walk the streets at night. It's the reason why our Black artists are having to stand up and form their coalitions to get work done without a ”white yes”. It's the reason why even though I have photographic proof that the Cis males in my family have slowly gotten paler with every generation and that I know with absolute certainty that there is a Black contribution to my heritage somewhere that they locked it down and hid it from me like it was a crime (and it was until Loving V. Virginia, the very state my Dad's side of the family hails from). They appear to have bred as much of it out of me as possible by marrying women with ”Irish” in them. I feel like I was force-fed the blue pill and sidelined from my culture. I will never be black. I’m not even trying to be. I am just sickened that something that every Black person I’ve met can see may or may not come from a heritage that was stolen from me and hidden so well I can probably only prove it with a DNA test.

Whiteness is not a culture, it is an allergic reaction to the existence of BIPOC contributions to American life. It is cancer in our American Theatre and we have predominantly white institutions that are standing out like tumors in our cultural landscape. I am singularly focused on rooting them out not just because I'm married to a BIPOC artist. I'm rooting them out so that I can claim all of my cultures so that I can make reparations for the harm that has happened in my personal history. To create me BIPOC heritage may have had to be bred out and hidden and I may never be able to prove it. The sheer insinuation is enough to sicken me. I will uncover it and amplify my ancestors’ stories if I can find them. I will create a culture where this doesn't have to happen again. It ends with me.

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#theatre #nj #theatrelives #blm movement #black lives matter #endwhiteprivilege #end white supremacy #end white terrorism

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Seven

Previous Chapter HERE

Warning: Some language

Chapter Seven

Curled up on the sofa next to Shan with the bottle of red Noah had left was where Sarah found herself later that same evening, not entirely of her own doing. She’d changed into her sweatpants and her old university hoodie for comfort as soon as she’d arrived back but she still found it hard to relax.

Earlier, after they’d left the gallery, they had continued walking to the restaurant Jocelyn had scouted for them based upon a magazine review she’d read in Home & Country. They had managed to keep their awkwardness to a minimum so no one could tell but Chris soon felt the need to make an excuse and leave. Just before they arrived at the restaurant, he turned to thank Noah and Jocelyn for a nice afternoon and left them to it claiming his producer had emailed some last-minute script amendments he needed to be clued up on. Thankfully, he was a good enough actor that they didn’t suspect anything was amiss. He kissed Jocelyn on the cheek and patted Noah on the back of his shoulder but pretty much ignored Sarah as he walked off back in the direction of his own apartment, head down to avoid the rain. The three of them continued but Sarah had lost her appetite by that point so they called it a night after having a drink at the bar next door.

She texted Chris on the way home to tell him her folks had said it was nice to see him. She had no real reason to tell him that of course but it seemed like the thing to do. That was now over an hour ago and Chris still hadn’t responded. Anyone else would have assumed, logically, that he simply hadn’t seen it yet, or he had been in the process of replying but got distracted with something else, but she knew differently. She found herself anxious at the best of times but not so much concerned with what other people thought of her, if they thought anything at all, or whether she had annoyed anyone. The Evans clan were the exception to that rule. They knew her better than almost anyone. She figured, should she ever wind up missing, that she would be one of those people about whom others would give very banal police statements such as “she was quiet” or “she kept herself to herself” or “actually, now you mention it, she does look a little bit like a female Cillian Murphy.” She almost certainly would not have a candle-light vigil held for her in a park, which was a sobering thought.

“This guy’s a dick.” spoke Shan, mouth full of cookie dough, snapping Sarah out of her head for a second. “He’s stolen another designer’s idea but the judges haven’t figured it out yet.”

Sarah tried quickly to catch up with what was happening on the TV screen. “Is he gonna get away with it? Will they get told, or...?”

“Yeh, the producers will say something. They’re just ramping it up for the drama.”

Sarah loved how into Reality TV Shanna was. Don’t count her out of a quiz team; she knows everything there is to know about Project Runway and could put anyone to shame with her intricate knowledge of Kim Kardashian’s romantic life. Possibly even more so than Kim herself. It was both strangely impressive and kind of scary at the same time, and was possible also the reason why Chris never invited her to parties in L.A.

“So, who is going to win again? Is there a frontrunner yet?”

“We’ve only had three episodes but Jody, definitely. She’s soooo cool. I’m following her on Instagram and she designed these flares that I’m gonna buy if they ever go on sale.” Shan pulled out her phone and started scrolling through the app to find them.

Sarah poured herself another glass of wine and waiting to be blown away by Shan’s ever-changing fashion sense. She wished she was confident with clothes and colour as Shanna had grown to be. She was never afraid to experiment with what she wore, often clashing but somehow always pulling it off. Confidence is key, she would say if you asked her for advice. You can wear absolutely anything you like if you act like you don’t give a shit. In stark contrast, if you managed to find something that wasn’t beige or mauve in Sarah’s closet, it would be a miracle. Actually, if you managed to find anything in her closet that was younger than five years old would be a rarer find than a double rainbow. “Autumnal” is how she would describe it. “Dull as fuck” would be Audrey’s response. 

“Oh, Chris wants to know if we’re bringing anyone to his party next week. Matt needs numbers. Do you think Audrey will fancy coming?” Shan offered without looking up from her phone. “Actuallt, stupid question.”

“Actually, no, I don’t think so. I think it’s hers and Michael’s anniversary. She mentioned they were thinking of driving up to the coast.” She took a sip from her glass. “Did he just ask you that?”

“Yeh. Well, like ten minutes ago but I forgot to say anything.” Shan was still scrolling through her phone to find the photograph and couldn’t see the dejection cross Sarah’s face.

“Here they are. Look. Funky or what?” Shan excitedly waved her phone in Sarah’s direction so she could only make out a swirl of blue and purple. They were definitely flares, though. Ideal for a themes costume party but probably everyday wear for someone as ballsy as Shanna. “I reckon these with my black platforms and that red angora sweater of yours.” Maybe Sarah’s wardrobe was of some appeal after all.

“Yeh, I could see you in those for sure.” Sarah smiled. “But that sweater is the only decent thing I could wear on a date that isn’t part of my day to day stuff so you need to be careful with it.”

“Aww you saving it for Greg?” Shan winked.

“Hardly.” Sarah tried to find the energy to eye roll back at her but she was too bothered by the confirmation that Chris was almost certainly absolutely definitely ignoring her.

“Shan? I think I’ve done something stupid and I’m not sure what to do.”

Shan looked taken aback for a moment before just plain confused. “Sarah, you don’t do ‘stupid’. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fixable.” she leaned forward a little, moving closer to Sarah on the armchair next to the couch. “You know, it sounds odd but I had this feeling something was going on. You’ve been a little distracted lately. What is it?”

Now it was Sarah’s turn to hope Shanna wouldn’t be mad at her. “You know I contacted the agency? About Charlotte? Well, they’ve put me in touch with her and things have moved on a little bit since and now we’re sort of talking to each other. We’re thinking of meeting up soon.”

Shanna’s eyes grew wider in surprise. She’d known about Sarah’s response to the agency’s request and had made her feelings approximately clear some time before, but the actual talking part was new information.

“We’ve been texting a bit.” Sarah continued with some trepidation. “She gave them her number to pass on to me. She’s thinking of coming to Boston soon, maybe to have a drink or something. What do you think?”

Shan looked at Sarah without blinking for a moment. She didn’t know what to think. “Wow, you have her number? And she has yours? Obviously, sorry. That was a dumb thing to ask. OK. Well, I guess that’s that then.” Shanna placed her phone down on the coffee table in front of her and readjusted her position on the couch so she was facing Sarah more now.

Sarah rubbed the back of her neck. “Chris thinks I’m being stupid.”

“Oh, Chris thinks everyone is stupid if they don’t think the exact same way he does.” Shanna exaggerated her eye roll causing Sarah to chuckled. “Have you heard him talk about Giants fans?!”

“He is right, though, isn’t he? It’s a risk. I mean, she didn’t want to know before so what’s changed now?”

“A lot of things could have changed, Sarah. I guess you’ll find out soon enough.” Shanna responded. “When do you think you guys’ll meet?”

“She’s gonna let me know. She has to travel to Boston so I guess it depends on her journey.” Sarah shrugged, noting Shanna’s scepticism. “I’m sure she’ll contact me.”

“Yes, of course she will.” Shanna briefly paused. “Where is she from?”

“Raleigh, North Carolina. She wasn’t born there, I don’t think. Moved for work. I’m guessing she’s from Michigan originally but I don’t really know that for sure.”

Shanna nodded along, taking in everything Sarah was telling her and trying not to appear cynical. Having been on the end of something similar some years earlier, she appreciated how comforting the support was even if she herself knew it to be forged somehow. She knew the last thing Sarah would need right now was to be told she was being foolish, and she made a mental note to elbow her stupid brother in his ribcage the next time she saw him.

“I was going to tell them this weekend but I bottled it. After everything Chris said, I just figured maybe they would think I didn’t appreciate them enough. I just can’t put that on them. Not now. Not until I’ve at least met her.” Sarah rubbed both hands down her face. She didn’t know what to do and had kind of hoped that Shanna would magically make everything better.

“From everything I know of Joss and Noah, I really don’t think they would ever stop you from seeing her.” Shan nudged Sarah’s foot with her own, trying to get her attention back. “You can’t expect them to be over the moon aout it but they would at least understand your choosing to do so. And despite Chris’s opinion, that’s what this is. Your choosing. You have control over this and if you say so, well, then...that’s all that matters.”

Sarah smiled softly at Shanna, glad she’d taken the plunge and finally told her what was going on. Her shoulders felt a little lighter after removing some of the weight.

“But I can’t promise we’ll be OK. We’ll worry about you until she gives us reason not to.” Shanna leaned back on the couch, wine now in hand, and curled her feet back under herself. “Tough shit.”

Sarah watched as a smile slowly spread across Shanna’s face, her eyes full of sympathy. “You have to face it. We love you very much and if she dares even cross you? Just once? We’ll burn her house down.”

“OK.” Sarah nodded, wiping her eyes of the tears that had started forming in the corners. “OK, deal.”

*

Nothing had really changed in the days that followed. Sarah had the impression Chris was continuing to ignore her, with only short, clipped phrases padding out any conversation they might have had by accident. She was also pretty sure he and Lisa had both been talking to Shanna about it when he thought she couldn’t hear him, casually enquiring about her plans to meet. At several times, she caught the ends of hushed conversations and experience the odd awkward moment where everything would freeze as soon as she’d walk into the room. If they had been hoping to alleviate any concern, they were failing. Shanna was also a terrible liar at the best of times but to her credit, Sarah had heard her give Chris an earful for what he’d said to her following their visit to the McCurry exhibition and he had promised to offer Sarah an apology but that had yet to materialise, not that she cared much. Shanna had also decided not to give away any details of their impending meeting and for that, she’d be eternally grateful. 

“So,” Audrey said, leaning on the desk where Sarah had set up camp to catch up on some patient admin. “You’re really going to see her, huh? How will you know it’s her?”

“How do you mean?” Sarah looked up briefly from the papers in front of her, a crease forming on her brow. She was fed up of people’s judgements.

“Will she be carrying a white newspaper and some roses, or has she sent you a photograph of herself so you know who to look out for?”

 No sarcasm intended, Audrey was serious and she was right. That was a really good question. Crap. She hadn’t given much thought to asking Charlotte what she looked like and the photograph from twenty-nine years ago of a young curly-haired brunette with wide, tired eyes might not be the most entirely accurate depiction to work off. She could be a full-time blonde right now, and she had no idea how tall or slim she might be. In a strange way, being caught up in the unnerving anticipation of finally meeting her birth mother, she must have simply assumed they would bear a passing resemblance to one another. That their eyes would meet across a room and they would know instantly who the other person was. Maybe they would hug first and conversation would flow naturally from there and it would be like, where have you been all my life? 

One thing Lisa had offered by way of advice was to tell Sarah to stop putting unrealistic expectations on herself. She told her she didn’t want her to be disappointed but it was almost too late for that now. She couldn’t help but get a little carried away the more she thought about the infinite possibilities and the closer their arranged date crept up on her, the more agitated she became.

Work had been something of a welcome distraction. A chance to ground herself in reality as opposed to daydreaming all the what-ifs she might have before the weekend arrived. She’d even allowed herself to flirt a little bit with Greg, not too much but certainly enough to garner Audrey’s amusement and surprise.

“I’m just saying. It’s worth asking for some kind of idea of what she plans to wear, or maybe you should tell her something about yourself?” Audrey suggested. “I’ve always thought you would look amazing with rose gold hair and that would give you a perfect way to stand out.”

“I’m not gonna dye my hair. Remember what happened last time? That charity thing? I had to replace all of my towels.” They both laughed at the memory but something had clearly struck a chord somewhere inside her and Sarah pondered it for a second. “You’re right, though. I haven’t really thought much beyond the day itself.” Sarah looked back down at the work in front of her, all of it suddenly losing focus. “Tell you the truth, I have no idea what I’m going to say to her.”

“Yes, you are quite awkward at the best of times, aren’t you?”

Sarah eyed Audrey for a second unsure of what to say before catching the smirk on her face. She threw a roll-up memo note at her face.

“What do you think you’ll say to her?” Audrey asked, more seriously now.

Sarah took a deep break and leaned back in her chair. Truthfully, she had been losing sleep over this very subject, swinging between general chit-chat you would have with a long-lost pal you’d just added on Facebook, and calling her every name under the sun. She figured the fairest most useful thing would be somewhere between the two.

“I have no idea. Every time I think I have a hold on the situation, some other thought pops into my head and it’s like I’m back at zero again.” She threw the pen she’d been holding on to the table and looked at Audrey. Audrey’s face was full of something akin to worry.

“If you like, I could always call you, like on a date? If everything is OK, you can ignore it. If not, it could be your get-out clause?” Audrey offered. If Sarah had asked, Audrey would have probably staked the place out and sat next to them all night, and only partly because she was nosier than she would admit.

“I love you, Audrey.”

Audrey playfully rolled her eyes. “OK, I get it. This is something you have to do yourself. Just know the offer still stands, OK?” Sarah nodded gratefully. “I’m off in ten and I don’t think I’ll see you again before, so...take care. Let me know how it goes, yeh?”

She grabbed Sarah’s shoulder in a tight grip before walking out of the room, leaving Sarah to her mountain of paperwork and another three hours of shift before she could head home and try to get some sleep.

Sarah waited a second before pulling her phone out of her pocket. The last messages she had sent over the past day or two had all been to Charlotte; all of them casual enough but she’d answered every single one of them. Relief washed over her momentarily as she considered how to approach the awkward subject of not having a clue what her biological mother looked like. Then again, this whole situation was awkward. It was awkward as hell, so she just went for it.

Sarah 9.02pm: Just a thought. Who should I look out for this Friday?

Mercifully, she didn’t have to wait long for a response. The feeling she had was almost pleasant and it caught her off guard.

Charlotte 9.09pm: Oh my word, I didn’t think!! I’ll be in a red dress. Boots. Honestly I only have one nice outfit ;)

She allowed herself to smile for a second at her reply, taking a moment to think about what she was doing. If she could meet Charlotte for an hour, nothing too pressured, she could easily grab a cab to Chris’ place afterwards and still be there before 9pm. No one would notice.

Sarah 9.12pm: No problem. I’ll look out for you. Still OK for 7.30?

Charlotte 9.14pm: Absolutely! Looking forward to it x

*

#chris evans #chris fic #evans fic #Clear The Area #Sarah Bernette #chris evans x original female character #Syms Writing

[lovemesomesurveys]

“I’m going to stand on the ground like a skyscraper”

Is there a necklace that you wear all the time? No. I haven’t worn a necklace in years. How often do you wear skirts? Never. Do you enjoy baking? I used to, especially during the holidays. I haven’t done any baking the past few years, though. Do you have a large kitchen? No, it’s really small. Is anything sore on your body at the moment? Of course.

Do you like 3D movies? No. Where were you 3 hours ago? Sitting right here on my bed. Have you ever heard of Hot Chelle Rae? Yeah. I liked a couple of their songs. Do you know where Poland is? I know it’s in Europe. Are you afraid of dying? Yes. Are you wearing socks right now? Always. Do you speak your mind? I keep a lot to myself. If you found a wounded bird, what would you do? I honestly don’t know. I’ve never encountered a wounded bird. Ever rode on an elephant? No. Have you ever had braces? Yes, but not for my teeth.

“Cause I finally realize that I can’t get you off my mind”

Have you ever eaten a crayon? No. Do you like strawberries? Yeah. I haven’t had any in years, though. Wrestling or boxing? Neither. When's the last time you went to the mall? Last December. Have you ever gone Christmas Caroling? I have, actually. A few of us from the psych club I was in at my community college went caroling one year to a few different nursing homes. It was nice, they seemed to enjoy it. What song do you never get tired of? There’s numerous songs that will always be a favorite of mine. Do you have a favorite chef? No. Do you know who Travis Pastrana is? Yeah. What song pumps you up and makes you feel good? Hmm. What's bothering you right now? My back and the fact that I don’t feel well.

Favorite flavor of gum? Minty flavors. Does your school have air conditioning? How many mirrors do you have in your home? 5 that I know of for sure. That doesn’t include handheld mirrors, though. What does your wrapping paper look like for presents this year? I haven’t bought any, yet. Do you like Jay-Z? I’ve only liked a couple of his songs. However, the Linkin Park and Jay-Z collab album was/is dope.

“we’re gonna party like it’s your birthday”

What time was it 14 hours ago? 5:30PM. What's the craizest thing that happens in your hometown? Uh, high crime rates. :X Have any of your friends ever stabbed you in the back? Yes. What's your favorite city? Beachy, touristy cities throughout California. Have you ever laid on a hammock? I think I have as a kid. Who's the most famous person you met? Jamie Lee Curtis. Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend stolen from you? No. Where do you want to live someday? Near the beach. I’d love to have a beach home one day. Do you like your eyes? I wish I had blue or green eyes instead. Do you wear a watch? Nope. Do you like peanut butter? Yes. Do you tan easily? If I spend a day at the beach I’ll sunburn and then it turns into a tan. That’s the only time I spend a long period of time outdoors. Do you have sensitive skin? Yes. Do you care if people smoke/drink? Not in general, no. If it becomes a problem then yes. Has anyone ever gives you roses? Nope.

“every little thing that you do, I’m amazed by you”

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Sigh. I dozed off around 5AM and slept until 7AM and here we are now at 7:53AM. I don’t understandddd. D: I’m going to definitely attempt more sleep, but I have to call my doctor soon. Do you hate it when babies cry? If it’s loud and excessive it gets overwhelming and annoying. Would you like to get snake bites? (the piercing) Not now, but I wanted them back when I was like 16.  Would you move to a new state/country to be with the one you love? That’s one of those situations I’d have to be in to know what I’d do. It’s hard for me to even imagine cause I’ve never even been close to that before. It’s also hard for me to imagine ever moving far away from my family. I think I’d try to work something else out to be honest. Like, maybe they wouldn’t mind picking up and moving here? Why would I have to move?  What is your name? Stephanie. What do you plan on buying in the future? Christmas presents for my fam soon. Who is your favorite "That '70 Show" character? I don’t have one. I actually watched that show during its original run, but I tried again years later when I was older and couldn’t get into it. There is a mummy behind you. What do you do? Uh, run? What do you think of Miley Cyrus? I like her. Do you tend to think you are always right? Absolutely not. What was your favorite toy as a child? Barbies. I was obsessed. Do you think more about your funeral or wedding? Uh, neither.  Dinosaurs or unicorns? Unicorns, I guess. You need new jeans. Where do you go? I haven’t bought a new pair of jeans in years. I’d probably look at JCP first since that’s where I used to get them. I always found the perfect fit there. What do you think about Maroon 5? I like a lot of their music.

“someone pinch me, I must be dreaming again”

Have you ever snuck into an R-rated movie when you weren't old enough? Nah. How many Emily's do you know? I don’t know any. Have you ever slept in a tent outside? No. What's your favorite kind of Girl Scout cookie? I like all of ‘em really except for the coconut ones. Their newer cookie, Lemonades, are quite delicious. What do you hear at the moment? An ASMR video. Why do you think a lot of people left Myspace for Facebook? Facebook became cooler for some reason. I remember not wanting to make the move at all, I thought Facebook was lame lol. I just did it because everyone literally left. I don’t know about everyone else, but when it happened for me it was soon after graduating high school and Facebook was for college students, so I guess we just graduated from Myspace or something. *shrug* It’s crazy how quickly it flip flopped, though. Myspace became lame and now we all kinda laugh about it. Do you watch the Olympics? Nope. Have you ever been to Minnesota? No. What's the strangest thing you've seen on TV? Hmm. What do you miss most about elementary school? I miss being elementary school ages the most, but also school was fun back then. I liked the projects and music class and this thing called field day that we did on the last day of school every year that consisted of like relay games and whatnot. It was fun. Anything funny happen to you while you were at Wendy's? Uhh, no. I very rarely even go to Wendy’s. It’s been awhile. When's the last time you picked up a stick? I have no idea.

How often do you have camp fires? Never. I’d like to do bonfires in the fall.

“honestly, I haven’t been happy for a long time”

How long has your computer been on? Hours. Do you like chips and salsa? I used to love chips and salsa. I can’t eat spicy food anymore, though. :( Do you have any pictures of the guy you like? There’s no such guy at the moment. Ever touched a fish? I don’t think so. Maybe as a kid with my pet fish. When's the last time you uploaded pictures onto Facebook or Myspace? I uploaded a new profile picture last month on Facebook. Do you have any band-aids on right now? Nope. Ever had a blister? Yes. Not fun. Do you watch the show The Hard Times or RJ Berger? No. Have you ever voted for anything? Yeah, for elections and other smaller stuff. Do you like high top shoes? I can’t wear them cause they’re hard for me to get my foot into. Do you think those nerd glasses are cool? What are nerd glasses, exactly?

Do you own any t-shirts of your favorite band/singer? Yes. Have you ever worn a tie? No. Have you ever made dinner for someone? No, cause I don’t cook. Do you only listen to your muisc loud? No. I like to listen to it at a comfortable level. It varies, but never super loud.

“my give a damn’s busted”

Have you ever taken drama class? I actually did take two drama classes in community college. :O Shocking, I know. Have you ever rode a mechanical bull? Nooo. That would be very dangerous for me to do and I’d never even attempt it. Have you ever played on a basketball team? No. Ever stayed in a motel? Yes. What number was your jersey in high school? I didn’t have a jersey, I didn’t play any sports. Have you ever choked on something? Yes. I had one really traumatic experience that changed how I take my medicine ever since. That happened almost 10 years ago now, but ever since I’ve had to crush my pills. When I tried taking pills again not long after it happened, it literally felt like my throat was closing up every time and I was terrified of it getting lodged again. That day was really scary, my dad literally almost had to put his finger down my throat. Do you wear a belt? Nope, I only ever wear leggings. I’ve actually never worn a belt before, though. Do you have a rug in your room? No. Do you go camping during the summer? Nope. I have no interest at all in doing that. Do you carry a purse everywhere you go? Not anymore, but I used to. In most recent years it was a mini backpack. Where's your favorite place to get coffee? Honestly, I’m a basic bitch and just go to Starbucks, ha. It’s nearby and convenient and yeah. Plus, people hate on it but I actually like it. *shrug* I get really into it when they come out with their winter drinks, like they have now. I wish we had a Tim Hortons so I can see what that hype is all about. What's the last time you searched on Google? When’s the last time I searched on Google? Earlier. Which of these singers have the best voice: Katy Perry or Usher? I think they both sing well. They’re very different, you can’t really compare. What food is your weakness? Boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings from Wingstop. How many unread emails do you have right now? I don’t feel like checking at the moment.

#personal #text #survey #surveys