#((they can't be left in a room together without fighting physically or verbally))

[askcollegehamilton-blog]

Also, Thomas what is your relation with Alex? Have y'all met? Are y'all friends? Do you hate each other?

[heximagines]

Queen I got so much trauma the hookers are my comfort family and Severen is my comfort character. (you don't gotta do it if you don't want to)

may I please request a found family fic or headcanons of a fem!reader that ran away from a unhealthy home and she meets the hookers and sev falls for her and shes not used to all the touch and affections and Jesse and diamondback take her in as parental figures and homer,Caleb and may as siblings.

Dude I 1000000% feel you on this one. I got you. Also I hope you don't mind this turned out kinda long! 😅 I got carried away. Hopefully it's wht you had in mind but if you want more focus on the family after the meeting I could do part 2?

Some kinda big triggers this one people so if you aren't in the headspace to handle hard drug use, alcoholism, toxic family dynamics, physical & verbal abuse, non-graphic sexual harassment please take care of yourself and skip this one.

And a special thank you to @turquoisebolotie for beta reading this bad boy and giving me some notes! Appreciate you. ❤️

"Another beer," your step father, Rick, slurred at you from the couch in the next room. You looked up from the vegetables you were cutting, not quite sure if you heard him. "What!?" You called back. "I said," he was screaming now, "Get me another goddamn beer!" "Oh for Christ's sake!" Your mother stormed into the kitchen, a lit cigarette dangling from her mouth. She brushed past you to the fridge and ripped the door open. "Can't you do anything around here?" You turned back to the cutting board and kept working. "I'm making dinner," it was just under your breath but her ears were as sharp as her temper. She delivered a harsh smack to the side of your head. "Watch your damn mouth! You owe us for letting you stay here. Without us you'd be on the streets like your brother." You swallowed down the rest of your words and averted your eyes. Sometimes you wonder if you'd be better off.

When you finished dinner you brought the plates out to the living room where you all usually ate in front of the TV. You set Rick's plate down first along with a new beer, not eager to be yelled at again soon. Then you set your mother's down but she shoved it to the edge of her little fold out table. Her appetite hadn't been the same for a while and you weren't surprised. Finally you sat on the floor and set your own plate on the coffee table. The Brady Bunch blared over the TV and your eyes glazed over as you half watched half daydreamed of a world where your family problems were solved over the course of one episode. A half hour interval where all your issues could be wrapped up with a neat little bow. You went to take a bite of your food when suddenly the full, unopened can of beer you'd brought out for Rick beamed off the side of your head. Your fork fell from your hands and you reached up to grab where he'd hit you. "Fuck!" "It's warm you idiot! Get me a cold one!"

Your days went much like that and those were the good ones. The only times they got better is when your mom spent all evening doped up and nodding out on the couch, too blissed and comatose to argue or fight with you. You found solace in the night time when they were asleep. You waited until midnight and then you could tiptoe out of your room and around the house. You were eternally grateful they weren't easily roused. It was times like these where you could do little things without being screamed at. Watch what you wanted on TV at a low volume, steal Rick's beer from the fridge, eat the leftovers your mom had left. You knew they'd never notice. They didn't notice much of anything. When they weren't outright abusive they were negligent and that suited you fine. You weren't a little kid who needed them, you were a grown woman. So why did you stay? Each day the answer became less clear to you. Maybe you were scared to end up like your brother, maybe you had just grown complacent in your routine, or maybe you just lacked faith in yourself all together. You turned the TV off before grabbing your half full beer and going to sit out on the wooden stoop your brother had built for the trailer. You sipped at the can and stared off past the trailer park and into the night. Wondering what was out there for you.

"You fucking bitch! C'mere!" Scott Mathis, a friend of Rick's, shot his hand out towards you and tried to grab your leg from his position on the floor. You'd been walking past him after dropping off yet another drink to Rick when he'd grabbed your ass. On instinct you punched him in the balls. You honestly hadn't even meant to do it, it just happened! He grabbed your left leg and you jerked it hard, kicking him in the stomach now. Rick came up behind you and grabbed you up in a headlock. "Have you lost your damn mind, girl!?" You kicked as he lifted you off the ground, desperate to get free. "You put her down Rick!" Your mother bolted out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell. Only she and your actual dad were allowed to put their hands on you, that was the rule she had. Rick dropped you to the ground only to turn on your mother and smack her across the face. "You bastard!" She spat at him before swinging on him but you knew your mom didn't have the strength she used to have, the drugs had eaten away at what muscle mass she'd had. You watched as Scott slipped out the door, still cussing you, before wedging yourself between your mom and Rick. His fist connected with your eye and the pain split through your head. You reeled back and threw your arms up to defend yourself but he just kept going, even grabbing one of your arms and pulling it away to get another shot at your face. Your mother stood back and just watched the scene unfold this time, so much for her rule.

You did your best to fight back, but Rick was a big guy. It wasn't over until he was a gasping sweaty mess, he shoved you to the ground with one last kick. "Fuck this shit! I don't need this! I'm going back to live in Lori's garage!" Finally your mother kneeled next to you on the ground, nails digging into your shoulder. "Oh you go back to fucking Lori then Rick! I don't need you! Y/n makes more money at the diner!" Your eyes darted up to her and you had to bite your tongue. She let him beat you and now she wanted you to take care of her? Typical. Rick stormed out of the trailer, slamming the door as he left and rattling the frame of the trailer. Your mother didn't stay by your side long or offer you a hand to get up. She quickly beeline for her stash, eager to forget her own troubles.

She spent the rest of the day and evening on the couch, head lolled off to the side, a steady web of drool flowing past her lips and a belt now hanging loosely around her arm. You stood in front of the phone, staring at it as if it could jump up and bite you. You glanced over at the firmly shut front door then back and finally you grabbed it off the hook and dialed your brother's number. It rang and rang but no answer came, you hoped and he didn't get evicted again. But you honestly weren't sure. The answering machine clicked and you hesitated before simply hanging up. There was no point in trying to get him to come home. You knew Rick would be back and your brother refused to live under the same roof as that dickhead.

You wandered back into the living room and looked down at your mom with a sigh. You pulled the belt away from her arm and tossed it over the back of the couch before laying her down on her side, much more comfortable than being folded over on herself. You'd started to notice a prominent curve forming in her spine lately. Without orders being barked at you you weren't sure what to do so you paced around the house holding a bag of peas to your bruising eye.

After a while you threw the melting veggies into the sink and started to pick up around the trailer simply desperate for something to keep your hands and mind occupied. As you tidied you came across a set of long forgotten car keys. The battered Chevette out front hadn't moved since your mom rear ended an elderly woman on 4th of July and lost her license. You peeked back in at your mom before looking to the door once again. Now or never. Quickly you snatched up the keys and scurried back into your room to pack a bag. You knew Rick would be back, you knew things wouldn't change, you knew they were only getting worse. Every logical part of your brain urged you to leave. But you still had to choke back the bitter taste of guilt that built in the back of your throat. Your hands shook with nerves as you zipped up the duffle and hauled it over your shoulder before darting across the hall to your mom's room.

You tiptoed over to Rick's side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. Inside was his Beretta along with a box of ammo and underneath was a porno mag with a girl, who was probably younger than you, stretched across the cover. You gagged and tried to pretend you didn't see that before fishing out the gun and bullets. You glanced anxiously over your shoulder, just anticipating the beating you'd get if you were caught. But no one was there. You slammed the drawer shut and shoved the gun in the waistline of your pants.

Ready as you would ever be, you stood 2 feet away from the front door. 2 feet away from freedom. You looked back at your mom and tried to remember what she was like before how she was now, before she became a shell of a person. But no memories came to the surface. It was almost like she'd always been this way. You snuck over to press a kiss to the top of her head anyway. "I'm sorry." Then, with all your courage, you dashed out the door and to the car.

You tossed your bag in the back and eyed the large crack her head had left in the windshield upon impact. You weren't sure if the car would even run after all this time but you settled in and jammed the key into the ignition anyway. You turned it and it sputtered before dying. "Come on!" You cranked it again and it sputtered once more but with some encouraging oomph. "Almost! You got it!" "Hey!" Rick's voice was like a whip that cracked though the dusk. Your head shot up and you saw him running for you full like the raging bull he was. You bolted up to slam the lock down on the passenger side door just as he grabbed at the handle. He slammed his fist on the window, making it rattle. "Get the fuck out of there!" He headed for the driver's side now but you slammed that lock down too. Your skin prockled and your breath caught in your throat as you turned the key once again. The engine turned over and the car rumbled to life. You weren't the religious type but you thanked God anyway. Rick pounded away at the window still screaming, red faced and eyes bulging out of his head, but you threw it in drive and floored it. The car hesitated for only a moment before shooting off, the back tire going over Rick's foot and leaving him crumpled on the ground. You laughed incredulously as you watched him from the rear view.

You drove for hours and hours, until the sun would soon start rearing its head again. You just wanted to put as much distance between you and them as possible. But now you were exhausted, the adrenaline wore off forever ago and your eyes struggled to stay open. You pulled up to a motel just as the sky was twinging with a hint of light. You rubbed your good eye and reached into your bag to pull out a wad of tip money you'd been saving up. You counted $576 and you reasoned with yourself that you could afford the luxury of a room tonight. You hadn't seen yourself but you knew you needed to get cleaned up.

You shuffed into the empty office and looked around before approaching the counter. A little hand written sign rested there beside a bell 'ring for service'. You tapped out a gentle ding and waited a few moments, but no one came. You tapped it again, a bit harder, and wondered if you should wait in your car for a more decent hour. Just as you were turning around to retreat the door burst open and a tall lean man practically threw himself inside. You reeled back in surprise and it seemed you caught him off guard too. He cleared his throat and straightened up, nodding to the counter. "Anyone here?" You tilted your head down, unable to meet his focused gaze. "I, uh, I don't think so. I was going to wait in my car." He hurried passed you and you jumped away from him. He kept looking at you as he slammed his hand down on the bell over and over again.

Eventually a young lady emerged from the back, yawning and rubbing her eyes of sleep. You felt bad she was woken up. "I need to rent one of your rooms miss." The woman seemed to need a minute to figure out what was being said, still groggy, but the man was impatient. He slammed some cash down on the counter. "I need to rent one of your rooms." He looked over his shoulder towards a window, anxious. "Yeah, I heard you," she yawned and stretched languidly before taking his cash. "Got one left." She grabbed the key and was about to hand it to him. "Wait!" Both their heads shot over to you, him because of the interruption and her because she'd just noticed you. As she took in your injuries she snatched the key back and eyed the annoyed man warily. You shook your head when you realized what she must be thinking. "No, no, just…" "Just what?" the man spat out, eyes still glancing over to the window. "I was here first! I need that room!" With no hesitation the young lady behind the counter shoved his money back at him and beckoned you over. "You got it." "I already paid," the man insisted. "Look at her!" The girl pointed at you, making you shrink back. Did you really look that bad? Your eyes shot over to a grimey mirror just behind the counter and through the dust you caught your reflection for the first time. Your eye had swollen up, blooming dark blue and purple around the socket. Your lower lip was busted open and blood crusted around the wound and down your chin. A bit of blood also clung around the edge of your nostril. You actually looked pathetic. So much so it made your stomach turn. It made you mad at yourself. Your eyes darted back to the man's and he gave a deep sigh.

Just as he was relenting the door opened again, this time a curvy woman with bleached hair scurried in. "Jess what is taking so long? We a need to get inside now," she hissed at him. "Well," he gestured to you, "she's got the last room." The new woman's eyes focused on you and all of this attention was really wearing on your nerves. Enough people had seen you like this. "Forget it." You brushed past everyone, the girl at the counter calling out for you, and ran back to your car. They could have the damn room.

You slammed the door shut and pressed your forehead to the steering wheel, trying not to cry. Maybe this was a sign that you'd made a mistake. That you should just turn tail, go home to take your beating, and beg for forgiveness. Your eye shifted to your hand and you saw the scar that was left there from last Christmas when your mom hand plunged a steak knife into it. No, going home wasn't an option. You cracked your windows and reclined the seat back, you'd get a bit of sleep if you could then keep driving. Just as you were closing your eyes there was a tap at your window and a muffled, "hey!" You opened them to look up and see the platinum woman standing by your car, fidgeting. You sat your seat back up and cranked the pane down lower. "Hey?" She swallowed and her eyes darted over to the beat up van they'd arrived in, you watched as other people piled out and into a room. "You wanna stay with us for the day?" You watched as the man from earlier looked back at her and she waved him off. "I, uh-" "Come on, honey. Day is too hot for you to sleep in this car. You'll roast. Besides you were nice enough to give up the room." You looked between her and the door. "Yeah, okay. Thank you."

When you entered the room behind Diamondback, as she'd introduced herself, all eyes turned to you. You paused but she pulled you further in and offered you a seat at a table, which you gladly took. The man approached and held out a hand to you, his fingers were long and crooked like the branches of a tree. You tried to shake firmly like you'd always been taught. "Jesse Hooker," he glanced back at Diamondback who fixed him with a firm look, "I apologize for earlier and thank you kindly for the room." You give him a soft smile and squeeze his hand before letting go. "No problem, I'm Y/n." Diamondback jumped in then. "Y/n, this is Homer," she pulled a sour looking young boy over to her side then gestured to a young couple, "that over there is Mae and Caleb." The pretty girl waved at you with a small smile and her boyfriend tipped his hat before taking it off completely. "And that's-" "Severen." A tall dark haired man interrupted her, coming to lean into your eye line. You turned your head to take him in. He was handsome with stubble peppered along his strong jaw, striking blue eyes, and lips that split his face in a large grin. You noticed how he had a small gap between his front teeth and decided it suited him well. "Hi." His grin grew impossibly wider. "Hey there." Diamondback gripped Severen by the back of his leather jacket and yanked him back into his chair. "Mind your manners, Sev." "I am!"

You excused yourself to get cleaned up and as you were tentatively wiping the dried blood from your split lip you could hear muffled conversation from the other side of the bathroom door. You wondered if they were talking about you but tried to push that thought down. You knew it was risky to spend the night in a motel with complete strangers. For all you knew they could be serial killers, or werewolves, or in a cult. You tried to ease down your frenzied brain with logic. They could be thinking the same of you right now, after all, you did look like you just crawled through hell. When you emerged they fell silent, confirming that they had indeed been talking about you. Diamondback came to you and gently brushed a thumb over your cheek, you flinched back and she quickly withdrew her hand. "Sorry. You look much better." "Feel a bit better," you nodded. She guided you back to the table you sat at before, where Jesse and Severen had started a game of poker.

"So, where ya from Y/n?" Caleb spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. "Outta town," you answered vaguely on purpose. You figured the less they knew about you the better. "Where ya headed?" He pressed on. "Farther outta town." Severen chuckled and looked at him from over his shoulder. "Keep yer questions to yourself boy." He turned to you now. "Don't mind officer brown nose over there, don't know how to mind his own damn business." "Don't you go callin' me no cop!" Caleb threw his boot at the back of Severen's head. He only snorted back at Caleb like a pig. A hand flew up to cover your mouth as you giggled at his antics. This only seemed to encourage Severen, who's eyes lit up at the sound, and he added in some very impressive pig calls. "Sooooowe! Soooooooowe!" You laughed a bit louder and the others joined in. Even Jesse, who seemed rather stern when you first met, chuckled. Severen turned back to you quickly. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head, searching for any way to keep you laughing. "That's just what he sounds like when he's sleepin'. I don't wanna know what it sounds like when him and Mae-" "Severen!" Diamondback scolded him again before he could finish his thought. "Don't get yourself in trouble now," you couldn't stop yourself from snickering. "I'm always in trouble, darlin'." He nodded to Jesse. "Deal her in Jess. You play poker don't ya?"

You did indeed play poker. Back before your mom met Rick and lost her job she had been a bartender. She'd sit you at a little table in the back of the bar with only a deck of cards to keep you company. One of the regulars, a rumor about town said he was your dad but you weren't sure, had taken to teaching you how to play. After a few months you would beat almost anyone who dared to challenge you. It was a nice memory and playing again made you feel warm inside. You found your smiles and laughter came easier to you than it had in years. You looked around at your new acquaintances and thought to yourself that they were like a whacky TV family. Traveling together and getting into fun misadventures. The way they barbed and teased each other lacked all of the venom and resentment you were used to from home. You weren't just at ease, Hell you felt safer in this room full of strangers than you ever did in that trailer. It was a nice feeling. Your eyes darted to the side and you caught the edge of a card poking out of Severen's sleeve. You snatched it quickly and tossed it to the center of the table. "Not very slick, cowboy." He looked at you, mouth agape but an amused twinkle in his blue eyes. Homer cackled at him. "Usually only Jesse catches him," Mae piped up. You pointed at him. "I'm keeping an eye on you." He smirked. "I hope ya do."

When you were all wound down and ready to get some sleep it wasn't terribly difficult to figure out the arrangements. The room was thankfully a double. Each of the couples took a bed, Homer claimed a stuffed chair on the corner, and Severen stayed in a chair by the door insisting you take the beat up couch. You tried to convince him it'd hurt his back but he said, "If I ain't worried about it why are you?" Those words stuck with you as you laid down to try and sleep. You must had been exhausted because the next time you opened your eyes it was because Severen was up and shuffling through his bag. You sat up and tried to rub your eye, forgetting how tender it was. You hissed and yanked your hand back. He looked up at you and spoke in a hush, "I wake ya?" "No, no worries," you whispered back. Your feet found the floor and you stretched your arms out. You could feel his gaze on you but he didn't say anything else. He finished pulling out fresh clothes before heading for the bathroom to shower and change. One by one the others also woke. But you didn't want to impose on them any longer, you grabbed your bag up and slung it over your shoulder. You reached your hand out to Diamondback with a smile. "Hey, thank you." She returned your smile and shook your hand. "Thank you too honey. Travel safe now." You almost didn't want to let go of her but you made yourself drop her hand. You nodded and waved goodbye to the others, just catching Severen as he left the bathroom, his hair still damp and only in his jeans. You averted your gaze and slipped out the door. As you closed it softly behind you you were sad to go.

You looked back up to the Chevette and you were startled to see 2 cops shining their flashlights inside. You gasped and ducked behind the van parked just out front, staying low to the ground. Rick must have reported the car and his gun as stolen. You just escaped one prison and you weren't about to go to another. Beside you the motel door opened and Severen stepped outside, still shirtless, with a cigarette hanging between his lips. He looked at you quizzically and opened his mouth to say something but you held a finger up to your own lips. His eyes darted from you over to the cops milling around your car then back to you. "Hey!" one of them called out to him. You flung yourself under the van.

From the gap you could see their feet as they approached Severen. "You see the girl driving that car?" You held your breath as you waited for him to answer, praying he wouldn't sell you out. You heard a small spark as he lit his cigarette and took a long drag. "Yeah I did." You flinched and buried your face in your hands waiting to be dragged out from under the van. So much for your great escape. A silence stretched on before the cop pressed him, "well where'd she go son?" You heard him shift. "That way, bummed a cigarette and asked for the bus station. Somethin' 'bout goin' east. Far east." You could have cried as relief flooded your whole body, making you sag into the asphalt under you. You didn't even realize how tense you were. You heard the officer get on his walkie and radio in. "Suspect heading to the bus station, planning to go eastbound. Thanks son." You watched their feet as they ran off and then there was a long silence. After a moment Severen's grinning face appeared in the gap under the van. "Hope ya weren't planning on going east." You took a deep breath. "I seriously thought you were about to throw me to the dogs." He scoffed at you. "Oh ye of little faith. Come on out now, they're gone." You crawled out from under the van and he took your hand to help you up. "You got yourself into a heap of trouble huh?" You glanced back over your shoulder. "Worth it." He glanced between you and your car. "Looks like you're out a ride. But you're in luck. I'm good at gettin' new ones. As long as you don't mind more trouble."

Severen led you nonchalantly onto the lot of the used car dealership. Your head whipped around nervously but he seemed so sure it made a bit of confidence bloom in your chest. You watched him kick the tire on a black Ford Bronco. "This'll do." He hurried to the driver's side and popped the lock with shocking ease. He slid inside and reached over, opening the passenger door for you. You both stayed low to the floor as he set to work. "Now watch and learn." He pulled some wires down from under the dash and produced a tool from his back pocket. "See this bundle of wires? You need these," he showed you 2 specific wires, "the ignition and the battery." He took them and stripped the ends. You couldn't tear yourself away from his hands as they worked, admiring them. "Ya wanna twist 'em together like this." The dash lights flickered on and he grinned at you. "Now take this starter wire here, and strip it lower so it's live. Then spark." He sparked the wires and the car roared to life. "That's it baby!" Severen then pulled a screwdriver from his pocket and jammed it into the ignition, turning the engine over. Just like that you were driving off the lot, pulling out right behind the van that carried the others. You didn't ask them why they were running and they didn't ask you. You did however turn to Severen with one question. "You guys aren't like a serial killer werewolf cult right?" He howled with laughter and shook his head. "Not quite, darlin'." You nodded. "Just checking."

[cinnamonest]

Daily Life - Scaramouche

Ahhh ye I loved writing those. For anyone who hasn’t seen them I’m linking the posts from when I did this theme with Kaeya and Diluc as well as the one with Zhongli, Xiao, and Childe

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He's... not much of a morning person. He's actually pretty quiet in the mornings, he's still groggy and having to wake up and all that. So he doesn't say much, just kinda nudges you. Do NOT make him do it twice, though, no doing the thing where you groan and roll over or beg for more time. He'll just yank the covers off of you. 

That's if *he* wakes up first, though, which is... unlikely. It's more likely you will find yourself in the reverse situation -- telling this grown ass man that yes you have to get up. Yes you have to go to work. You're going to be late. Come on. Get up. I'll make you food if you do. Please. It... takes a while. He’s actually late quite a bit due to his tendency to wait until the last possible minute and drag his feet. Not that anyone ever has to audacity to actually confront him about it. It can almost be kinda... cute? In a weird way. Just don’t actually say that out loud.

But still, it's rather surprisingly quiet. Yeah, sure, he could get food from his work, there's certainly a sort of eating area where they provide food for the masses of the underlings, but it's gross so, eating here it is. He used to do that before. Not that he would actually, god forbid, sit around and mingle with anyone, but he used to take it and go munch on whatever was provided, by himself. Just because it was easier and the man has probably never cooked anything in his life, doesn't know how to, but you do right? Well, if you don't, figure it out. Now that he has you he shouldn't have to go out of his way to get fed, you can do that, make yourself useful. 

He has the same thing going on as mentioned in the daily life post for Xiao where he just kinda... creepily watches you go about your morning. Except not from the other side of the room, no, he just follows you around. The days actually have an awkward start because you don't want to be the first one to speak and risk making him grumpy, so you just kinda wait for him to talk. It's never a "good morning," he just jumps straight into telling you what the day is going to look like plan-wise, or complaining about this or that. But he will stand kinda right beside you the entire time, if you're making food he just stands there and leans against the counter and talks to you. If you're getting ready and have to go get this or that he'll follow you into each room and keep talking. Boy is clingy.

You could look at it as a blessing or a curse that the man takes you everywhere he goes. You don't get locked up and chained to a bed with nothing to do, but you also... have to deal with him pretty much every waking moment. If you've proven yourself annoying when not given things to do, you get things to do, simple measures to keep your attention consumed and not bothering him. Books and pencils and paper and whatever. But if he has a task to be done, it's your job, will call out the occasional go put this over there or go get that and bring it here. Why should he stand up and do it himself when you can? And it's in your best interest to do it immediately and quickly. 

If it's a mission sort of day, going from place to place, he just drags you along wherever he goes. Expects you to just stand there quietly and not interrupt while he's talking to important people. If there's like, actual physical combat... well, if combat is expected, it's one of a few times you'll get left under the care of someone else (value and cherish these precious moments), and if it's unexpected hostility from someone, well, you know the drill -- go run away a hundred yards or so and stay behind something until it's over. And don't you dare think of using the opportunity to do something stupid or run. You tried a few times in the past... it didn't go over well.

The two things you get a lot of throughout the day is complaining and fucking. The first is usually after interactions -- some subordinate that has to come up to him to talk to him, some connection he's forced to converse with for the sake of a mission -- either way, he gets grumbly as soon as they're out of earshot. Honestly it's not hard to deal with, just kinda agree with everything he says, give a nod and smile and say he's right. You don't even really have to listen to what he's saying. As for the latter, fucking follows a predictable pattern, you can pretty much accurately estimate that you're about to get bent or pushed to your knees at specific times -- namely, whenever he's particularly stressed or nervous about something, when someone beneath him fucks something up or upsets him in any way, or when you specifically do something to upset him, be it intentional or unintentional. Lots of quick rough fucks throughout any given day, really.

Now, there are a very very very few days where you genuinely can't tag along, this is pretty much for your own safety and to prevent him from being distracted by concern for said safety. This is only when there is a planned conflict with formidable enemies. It's one of very few times you'll ever be left alone. Not under the care of any one person, but likely two or three personally appointed guards that he knows well enough to trust. During this time, they are given the instruction to keep an eye on you while you're given your normal idle task options like reading. It's not very eventful, and there's not really any opportunities for escape, it's just boring.

Unlike a lot of the other yans, you don't get a "honey I'm home now listen to me rant about my day" sort of deal, because you've been with him all day and heard him complain throughout. That doesn't mean the complaints don't continue, but he gets quieter once settled in for the evening. It's also the softest time you'll get -- at that point he's tired from whatever events occur throughout the day and has less energy to be irritated.

He never really verbally insisted on it, but the habit of bathing together just kinda naturally formed from the first few days when he had to drag you back and forth to follow a normal living routine. It's very very quiet. You never asked him to, but he just automatically does everything for you, scrubs at your body and hair before you get the chance. It's... not very gentle, but he's not intentionally trying to be rough or anything. Nor is it intended as a gesture of kindness or anything, you're pretty sure he just kinda started doing it since you were stubborn and refused to move a muscle when you first came here, and now does so on autopilot, without really thinking about it. You've decided to not bring it up. It's nice enough.

He's actually kinda particular about his sleep. He can stay up late if needed, but prefers to go to bed more or less soon after, and no, you can't stay up on your own, if he's going to sleep so are you whether you like it or not. He doesn't fall asleep immediately, just kinda lays a while and stares off in thought. As long as he knows you're awake, he's not gonna make any movements to touch you or anything. If you pretend to be asleep though... you might get somewhat cuddled. And if you decide to move to lay on him on your own or nuzzle up to him, he's not going to fight it. Will probably be surprised and embarrassed, but will lay there and allow it, maybe gently pat your head.

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (14)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Note: The lyrics of the song your eyes tell by BTS used in this chapter is NOT translated by me. It is composed/covered by  genuis english  translation and Jess A. Please consider listening to their music here. They’re a great singer! A line from Agust D’s 140503 at Dawn is also used in this update.

Warnings: blood, physical violence

***This is a super short chapter. JJK is just reflecting hehe

SERIES: CHAPTER 13 | FINAL CHAPTER

The blood in Jeongguk's lower lip was mocking him—telling him that once again, he fucked up.

Or at least this was what Park Jimin thought.

"So that's it, huh?" Your best friend rarely resort to violence—wait. This was wrong. Violence was never an option for Jimin, but he was making an exception tonight.

"You're just going to give up on her?" The older boy grabbed the collar of your soulmate's shirt.

Jimin was so mad he swore he could beat Jeongguk to a pulp.

How could Jeongguk be this dumb?

Jimin heard your conversation with your soulmate just a few breaths ago. He didn't plan to eavesdrop, it just happened.

Yoongi was the first one to know what happened to you. He was adamant to let you leave a while ago. He just had this weird feeling in his stomach that told him to check up on you.

His nightmare became a reality when he saw Jimin and Taehyung making out on the couch. You weren't with them and it only meant one thing: you left alone.

Yoongi was so mad at himself. He should have called you an uber or he should have driven you to wherever the hell you wanted to go.

This was partly his fault that's why he couldn't help but shudder in fear and regret when one of his staffs told him about what happened to you.

Police officers said you were under the influence of alcohol. Yoongi already knew this, but Taehyung and Jimin were still shocked.

They had no idea you left.

It actually took the three of them a long time to know what had happened to you. By the time they reached the hospital, they were already too late.

Jeongguk managed to make you cry over and over again.

What an asshole.

What kind of soulmate was Jeongguk? Were you really meant to be together? These questions were running inside your best friend's head. It had been answered when Jeongguk suddenly pushed Jimin away.

He wiped the blood in his bottom lip, smirking at his hyung.

"Who said I'm giving up on her?"

Jimin's jaw dropped. Jeongguk’s voice is full of confidence and determination.

"Y-You’re not?"

"No." Your soulmate said firmly. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Not when he was sure about what he felt for you, not when you needed him the most, and definitely not when you were giving up on him.

No. He should fight when you couldn't.

"Good," your best friend released a breath. He hated your soulmate for hurting you, but Jimin also knew that you loved Jeongguk—even if you told him otherwise.

This was the sad thing about the existence of soulmate that Jimin despised. The encouraging reminders like 'You should learn to love yourself,' and 'you don't need your soulmate to be happy,' would not apply.

It helped, yes. But your world was different. It would always feel like a part of you was missing when your soulmate didn’t love you back.

Humans were made to love and to feel loved. This reminded Jimin of the neon signage that's plastered on Genius Lab: I'm the island in this vast ocean, don't abandon me. This was Min Yoongi's idea. The bar owner always told him and everyone (really) that people were like island—they were able to provide—to extend their hands in this cold world.

They should never be abandoned because like any other things, they needed to be taken care of too.

"But what are you planning to do?" Jimin creased his forehead.

Jeongguk didn't even bat an eyelash when you told him to let you go. This was what annoyed Jimin. How could your soulmate be so silent about this? Why did he simply leave when you told him to go?

In Jeongguk's defense, he just didn't want to upset you any longer. He was aware that his presence was stressing you out. You should rest, especially because there's possibility that you might need to undergo an eye surgery.

Jeongguk's heart clenched once again. You were blind and you thought it was because he hated you.

It’s not true and he would change your mind.

"Seriously, Guk?" Taehyung shook his head, scowling. "This is your and my fiancé’s idea?"

"Don't get mad at Jimin-hyung. It's my idea." Jeongguk corrected his best friend. "Your soulmate is just helping me."

It had been days since the accident and you were aware that Jeongguk had been by your side all this time, not really by your side, per se, but he was around. He was patiently waiting outside of your room in this hospital, begging Jimin and your other loved ones to tell him what he could to help.

Today was the only time he left the hospital, as in the same day of your eye surgery.

Jeongguk swore he's not running away this time though. He was actually going to let you know that he would be staying with you. Forever.

"I can't let you do this, Jeon. I'm gonna lose my job if you fuck this one up!" Taehyung groaned.

"Hyung, please. This is really important!" Jeongguk was nervous. He was running out of time. Your surgery was in a few minutes and here he was, invading the studio where Taehyung worked as a DJ.

"This is going to be aired on national radio, Guk. As in the whole South Korea!"

"I know!" Jeongguk's eyes were blown wide. "This is exactly why I want to do this, hyung. I want everyone to know how I feel!"

If you couldn’t see, then maybe you could understand Jeongguk’s feelings by listening. He was willing to explore other senses just to make you believe.

"Fucking sappy!" In the end, Taehyung had no choice but to let his best friend proclaim his love for you.

Jeongguk smiled as he tapped the microphone, softly calling your name.

"It's Jeongguk. I know you don't want to hear from me, but I have something to say." Jeongguk grimaced. He seriously sucked when it came to expressing his emotions through words. "This will be quick, I promise. I just hope Jiminie-hyung is actually helping me out."

"Of course he is!" Taehyung shouted somewhere. Jimin wouldn't dare to ruin this for you. His task was simple anyway. He only needed to make sure that you were listening to the radio a few moments before your eye surgery.

You were nervous. Jimin wanted to help you calm down by making sure that you knew Jeongguk was not going to leave you alone in the cold.

"Anyway I know that I...well...I," your soulmate blushed. How should he describe himself? Was there a word that could emphasize his stupidity?

"I am an idiot." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek. This was the only adjective he could think of. "I am the idiot who hurt you and I know, I know...I don’t deserve your forgiveness because of how selfish I was—I mean, am. I still am."

He chuckled nervously. His heart was hammering.

"Call me selfish or whatever you want. I'm sure I deserve it anyway, but yeah...I'll be selfish again if this is the only way to let you know what I really feel about you."

Jeongguk cleared his throat as the beat of the music started to play.

"Why are my eyes filled with tears?” He sang.

This was a song composed by him. Of course he couldn't do this alone. Namjoon was the one who produced the beat of this song. He also helped his brother-in-law to write the lines. Ji-eun's father was a lyrical genius.

"Hey, stay by my side and laugh.” Jeongguk knew he was asking for too much. It was impossible to simply smile and stay with him—not after the hell he had put you through.

"A future without you is a world without color, filled with monochrome coldness." But this was the exact representation of what would happen if you weren't in his life.

Life would literally be black and white. Dull. Jeongguk knew how essential colors were in his life, yet if he was forced to choose between the hues and you, he would choose you in a heartbeat.

"Even the darkness we see is so beautiful. Please believe me."

Darkness was the absence of light. You were Jeongguk’s light. His life would be dark if you were not around.

He also knew you were going through the darkest time of your life, so he wanted this moment to still be beautiful.

He wanted you to believe that every hardship would pay off. You just had to believe.

"Looking only directly at you, so you don't go away"

Jeongguk wrote this line many months ago. It wasn't even meant to be lyrics to a song. These were simply the words he incorporated in his art.

Jeongguk was a soft person. He usually put cheesy captions in his paintings and drawings—the things he usually couldn’t verbalize.

"Whatever lies in the way of you and me. I'll just keep looking at the future of you and I."

It didn't matter that you lost hope. Jeongguk was sure he would make you believe in love again.

"Shadows of the past keep chasing me everywhere I go, and they try to keep ahold of me and till this day they follow me."

He would try to let go of his hurtful past. Those things didn't matter because he could always make good memories with you.

"Even though it seems to be the start of the end I'll call you and shout out your name."

He would be the hope in your relationship. This might be the end for you; however, Jeongguk was just starting.

Starting to accept the soulmate bond.

"I'll become your eyes to the world and for whatever we may face."

Starting to show you how much you meant to him.

He was willing to become your eyes if you didn't recover from this instantly. He would guide you until you could see again.

"One day all of this, this sadness that we share will bring us together."

The sadness would be over soon. You would see again;

Because Jeon Jeongguk was sure. He loved you and...

"Your eyes will tell."

[giorno-plays-piano]

Your place Part 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, degradation, dubcon.

Words: 1776.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America’s golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

Part 1

P.S. Some more smut, finally! All characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you’ll enjoy!

______________

"Are you going to come on Saturday?"

Steve moved his hand down your naked belly, watching you laying close to him on your bed and breathing softly. You glanced back at him, his handsome features illuminated by the dim light coming from the lamp on your nightstand.

"Where to?" You asked as he covered the back of your hand with his palm twice bigger than yours.

"The field house. We have a game."

He traced your knuckles with his fingertips and you thought how odd Steve was. Who could have thought the school's biggest bully was such a cuddle-bug after sex? It wasn't bad, though. You actually liked this side of him.

"Sure."

You weren't interested much in basketball or any other sports, but it was easier to come rather then fight Steve again. He was stubborn like a mule. Besides, a part of you felt like you belong there - many of your classmates were coming to see almost every game.

Why did Steve care whether you were there or not? Surely, he had already been showing you off in front of everyone as much as he could as if you were his trophy - now you sat close to him in class and then in cafeteria during lunch time; he was dragging you with him after classes along with his stupid friends. The whole school knew the nature of your relationship, and the first weeks it was making you bitter and hateful. Steve Rogers head fucking forced himself on you, yet instead of sympathy all you got was an enormous amount of jealousy. You were still receiving hate mailes dropped into your locker. The girls kept whispering curses behind your back as you walked down the corridors with Steve and his pack of wolves. He was able to make everyone silent, though. Now even his friends had no right to bully you like before. He reserved it purely for himself.

"Did you buy yourself a dress?"

"What dress?" You blinked in confusion. "Do I need a dress on Saturday?"

Steve smiled at you and leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"No, kitten, I'm talking about the prom."

You rolled your eyes at his words. Of course, Steve Rogers needed to show off everywhere he possibly could - he definitely hoped to become prom king. You, on the contrary, didn't care much. In fact, you didn't want to come there at all. You hardly had any friends at school, and coming to watch Steve flashing his smile and basking in the rays of glory would only make you more irritated with him.

"No, I didn't."

"Then we could go together. I know one nice place."

"Where? 5th Avenue again?"

You smirked, watching the guy frown. Last time you went shopping together was a nightmare for you. You ended up with several bags of expensive lingerie Steve paid for, and you were disgusted at yourself for giving in to him. True, his family was twice wealtier than yours, but it didn't mean you wanted anything from him. Except for leaving you alone, that is.

"And what of it?" Rogers asked you sharply, rising above you. "If I want to buy you a dress, I will."

You sighed, turning your head to Steve and pulling your body closer against his. You learned to enjoy this intimacy with time as he taught you what making love to each other meant. You were pleasantly surprised at his efforts to make you feel good.

"Steve, please. I don't want to think of it now. It's... ruining the mood."

He purred as you caressed his blonde hair and snuggled closer to you, dropping little kisses to your face and touching your cheek affectionately. Steve loved being tender. You believed he had a real physical need to touch you one way or another, often without any sexual subtext at all. It was almost as bad as his need to bully you verbally, especially when he was aroused. You were still learning how to cope with that.

If only he didn't make those photos of you and him in the locker room that time. It was the only reason you obeyed him three months ago when he declared he wanted to keep you close. You didn't know if Steve had stored those pictures somewhere, but you weren't worried about them anymore. His obvious obsession with you would keep him from showing photos of you naked with his cock buried inside your wet cunt to the hilt. You could walk away now, yet everything wasn't as easy as before. Steve made sure to gain trust of your parents, pretending to be the perfect caring boyfriend to you and just a very good guy to everyone else. He also made you meet his parents who turned out to be surprisingly nice, nothing like their son. Steve's mother Sarah took an immediate liking to you and often sent you a huge piece of her famous raspberry pie. It was a highlight of your day when Steve handed it to you during lunch. If you broke up with him now, you were sure he'd make up some story where you were the one to blame, and it would make your life even more miserable.

"Why are we doing this, Steve?" You asked him quietly as he played with a lock of your shiny hair. When be looked back at you, you realized he knew what you were talking about.

"What do you mean?" He grunted in return.

"You know this can't last forever." You said, your voice tired. "There are only a few months left before the graduation."

You were still stroking his hair as he bit down on his plump lower lip, his eyes not leaving your face as he stared down at you from above. There was something unsettling in his gaze, something dark, even scary, but you refused to be afraid of his temper tantrums.

"We're applying to different colleges, and they're not close to each other. How do you think we can keep... this going?"

Steve struggled for words, and you saw he was getting frustrated. It was odd - he liked to use aggression as his shield, rarely showing his vulnerable side to anyone and barking off whatever accusation you threw at him. Yet here you were, looking at the guy who couldn't utter a word to answer a simple question.

Was it despair you saw on his pretty face?

"You can choose the same place, too."

"Are you joking? My family would have so sell our house to pay for my studies then." You let out a sigh.

"You can apply for a grant. With your grades it's not impossible."

"Steve, let's be realistic. You wanna go to Columbia University. Do you have any idea how many people are applying for a grant to study there?" You said and, seeing him getting more agitated, wrapped your hands around his muscular shoulders, reaching out to kiss him again.

He deepened the kiss immediately, swirling his tongue around yours and then licking the insides of your mouth when you mewled softly beneath him. The soft vibration against his lips made Steve shivered from pleasure. He spent a bit more time rolling the tip of his tongue all the way around yours and finally released you, dropping a kiss to your chin.

"If you can't make it, I'm going to apply to the same place as you." He whispered, and you felt his cock gradually getting harder. "I'm sure they'll be happy to take me."

"Steve, you're mad." You shaked your head. "What are your parents going to say? They want the best for y-"

"I don't care what they want, it's up to me to decide." The guy growled and bit your lower lip gently, lowering himself on top of you again. "You're my girl, and my girl is going with me. I still have those photos in case you forgot."

"Ah!"

You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers touched your overstimulated clit, rubbing it skillfully as you squirmed. Your mouth fell agape as you were left gasping for air, trapped under Steve's athletic figure. Moaning at his touch, you looked at him, feverish, getting aroused again, your hands caressing his back as he smiled at you. He loved when you were a blushing mess beneath him, crying out his name as you were orgasming. No one else got to see you like this.

"I know you were a good girl today, but I want some more. You can handle it, can't you?" The guy cooed in your ear. "Come on, kitten. Show me how you mewl with my cock inside you. You're gonna mewl for me, right? Do it. Now."

You did as he said when his fingers were slowely fucking your sloppy cunt, your core aching for his dick almost painfully. Mewling softly, you kissed him again, and Steve slammed into you, muffling your high-pitched cry with his mouth  as he started rocking his hips. It felt so good, so fucking good. A wail of pleasure ripped from your throat, and Steve grinned at you.

"You're such a good little kitten, Y/N. I think next time we won't go to a restaurant, I'm just gonna give you a cat bowl full of my cum. You're gonna lick it clean, yeah? You're gonna do that for me, dear?"

"Yes, yesss, Steve." You whined as you felt your pussy kissing the base of his cock with a lewd sound. Panting and moving with Steve, you already felt one more orgasm building up, your mouth open and drooling. "I'm a good kitten, I'm a good kitten... pleaseplease Steeeeve..."

He groaned at your words, speeding up gradually and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head: he was rubbing against your g-spot to make your pussy milk his balls dry. Of, he fucking loved seeing that stupid expression on your face when you came, completely helpless, dependent on him to give you pleasure no one else could.

Steve was the one and only who could make you like this. Who the hell cared what his friends or parents said if he could hear you moaning his name beneath him whenever he liked? You were becoming more and more accepting, clinging to him when others were to mock you in public, spreading your legs for him when he cornered you in your or his own room. You grew to enjoy obeying him like a good girl you were, and Steve was going to keep you, finally, after all those long years of waiting.

He would make sure you never left his sight again.

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@lovelydarkdaydream

[6rookie-writer0110]

The end has arrived, let the darkness take over you

Frank Castle x Male Reader

Request - Okay good i wanna request for a male reader being punisher's sidekick his backstory is that he came from a poor family single mother 2 siblings and a deadbeat dad he wanted to become a doctor to make money for his family and then family got killed during a crossfire between 2 gangs while going shopping so now he wants revenge he gets a knife buys a gun and starts tracking them down and along the way he comes across frank who's badly injured and unconscious so he drags him away to somewhere safe

All your life you grew up poor. Your mother did everything to have food for you and your two siblings, she worked odd jobs to make sure she can buy clothes and food for everyone. There were moments, that everyone went to bed without eating anything. But your father is a piece of shit, he used to abuse you, mom, and your siblings verbally and physically. You started to fight back. You threw his stuff out then changed the locks. He hasn't come back around for a long time and you want to keep it like that.

You want to be a doctor to help people and provide for your family. Your mom would take you and your siblings to the library, you would start to read medical books old and modern. She knows you want to be a doctor, she wants to help you achieve your dream.

Later, your mother takes you and your sibling's shopping, to buy clothes.

”Y/N, here you can finish reading it at home,” Your mom said.

She gave you the medical book, the library doesn't allow people to check out.

”Mom, you stole it?” You smiled.

”Shh, it's our secret. I know you will be a good doctor and we will always support you. It will be hard but you are strong men and you will make it” She said.

You hugged your mom and she kissed your head. Your siblings hugged you too and you hugged them back.

While walking with them to the store, suddenly there is a shoot out between two gangs on the streets. Bullets start to fly everywhere, people start to run for cover.

You get hit in your arm with a stray bullet, you fall down and hit your head and you passed out.

-At the hospital--

You wake up and your arm is in pain. The IV is in your arm and you look around, the cop walked in.

”Where is my family? My mom-”

”I’m sorry. But you will have to identify your family at the morgue” She said.

Tears start to form and you are stunned.

”W-what happened,” You said.

”There was a shootout between two gang rivals, six people died now we are trying to identify them,” She said.

Your heart starts to race, that's the only thing you can hear is your heart. Later, they take you to the morgue and you see your family. You broke down and start to cry, you kneed down and kept crying.

----

What happened between the two gangs and six people died, the news kept talking about it non-stop. But the cops are taking too long to arrest anyone.

You want revenge, you collected newspapers, booked marked social media talking about the crime, and Google the videos of the crime. You go back to the crime scene during late hours. You searched for clues. You know about the two gangs and no one got arrested, that made you angry. You want to take the law into your own hand and do something about it.

-The next night-

You want to buy a gun and a knife. You know where you go and you bought the items, without any trouble. You start to stalk the first gang The blue reapers, you look at them, and you are filled with rage. Now, you start to think about how you will lure them and kill them.

You really don't have a plan. You are just going in there with a gun and knife against a gang. You are standing across the street watching them. Before you left, you heard a huge sound towards the dumpster. You walked towards the dumpster and you see a guy badly beaten up. He is conscious, you did try to wake up him but it didn't work, you tried to pick him up. You take him back to your place and you start to clean his wounds.

✯ ✫ ✯ ✫

-Next Day-

Frank wakes up and his body is feeling sore. He did struggle to get out of bed, he walked out of the room and he sees you.

”Who are you?” Frank asked.

”I found you unconscious in the alley. I took you here, to stitch you up and you don't need major surgery. My name is Y/N” You said.

”Thank you,” Frank said.

”Don’t worry your gear is fine. It's in the living room... I know who you are” You said.

”You know who I am?” Frank asked.

You nod.

”Help me. Train me, I need to get revenge for those who killed my family. Please train me-”

”I won't train you,” Frank said.

”Why not? I want those two gangs to fall apart. If we don't stop them they will kill winning and kill more people” You said.

”You don't want this lifestyle. The answer is no” Frank said.

”Just give me a chance. I saw you do it before you fight them then kill-”

”I said no!” Frank yelled.

Frank puts back on his gear and left. You sighed and start to think about what to do.

---

A couple of days has passed by, Frank hasbeen thinking about what you said. Frank started to keep an eye on you, but you didn't notice him following you. Later, you found out the first gang’s hideout. You are being reckless, you only have one gun, and there are more than ten people inside the bar.

Frank can see what you are doing. He sighed and called you a dumbass in his mind. Frank moved rapidly, grabbed you by your hoodie, and slammed you hard against the brick wall in the alley.

”What the fuck is wrong with you!?!” Frank growled.

He doesn't let go of you.

”I want them to pay!” You yelled.

”With one gun!? Once you pull out your gun the next you have a bullet in your fucking skull!” Frank growled again.

You and Frank glared at each other.

”Help me stop them. You have the skills and you can be my mentor” You said.

”Go home, before I break your kneecap,” Frank said cold.

He let's go of you and you really want him to train you.

”I work alone,” Frank said.

Frank made sure you walked away. You did go home but the landlord kicked you out because you haven't paid your rent in months. You grabbed your clothes and a family picture and left. You didn't want to go to the homeless shelter so you slept in the park.

---

Frank knows what you're going through and he changed his mind. It wasn't hard for Frank to find you. He did take you to his small apartment which you're grateful. You do sleep on the floor on air a mattress.

Every day Frank showed you how to properly clean a gun, take it apart then put it back together and how to hold a gun. Next Frank would teach you how to pickpocket and it's not easy for you. Because you have to be silent like the wind but you keep messing up. But Frank starts to teach you how to fight but he is not a nice mentor. He hits you hard and he doesn't take it easy.

”Do you think they will go easy on you? Remember, on their mind, they want to kill you either you kill them first or they will kill you” Frank said.

”I won't forget that” You said.

Frank starts to punch you and you start to block his blows. You punched him in the jaw, he almost fell and he is bleeding.

”Not bad, Y/N. Let's keep going” Frank said.

You couldn't help to smirk.

✯ ✫ ✯ ✫

Weeks went by you have been killing gang members one by one from both sides. Frank does go along with you for backup, you didn't feel bad for killing them. They killed your family and they must pay. You finished killing two people on your own, you are covered in blood.

”Sloppy but remember don't leave any evidence that belongs to you on the crime scene. Let's go” Frank said.

You and Frank leave the dive bar. Across the street, there are security cameras and it caught you leaving the bar bloody.

--

The cops found out that you and Frank have been killing gang members. They want to arrest you and Frank, but they can't find your location. Frank has taught you how to live off the grid.

--

You are ready to kill them. You and Frank did set up a trap to have both gangs in one place at the warehouse. They want revenge because you killed their friends.

”Who the fuck are you?” He asked.

”You don't care about my name. But I’m here to kill all of you” You said.

They just laughed at you and you are glaring at them. You take out your gun and shot one of the guys in the head. His body dropped now everyone stopped laughing.

”You fucking asshole!” He yelled.

Everyone took out their guns but Frank is on the rail, he is using his sniper rifle. Now everyone is starting to shoot, you run and hide behind a shipping crate. You hid your weapon and you take out the Submachine gun.

You come out and you start to kill them. You were going to load but the guy hit you and you dropped the gun. You take out the brass knuckles and put it on. Now you start to fight and you punch him in the face. He killed your family, you got on top of him and you snapped. All the rage you locked inside came out, he is bleeding out fast but you broke his face.

You grabbed your gun and the bullets, you loaded your gun. You start to shoot and more bodies start to drop. Frank run towards you

” Let's go now,” Frank said.

You followed him outside and locked the doors. You and Frank blocked every exit earlier and left bombs inside. You and Frank get away from the warehouse, he gave you the remote.

”When you are ready,” Frank said.

You didn't say anything and you pressed the button. You and Frank watched the warehouse explode.

✯ ✫ ✯ ✫

You and Frank go to a small diner to eat. You did burn your clothes because it had blood and put on different clothes. You and Frank don't say anything and just kept eating.

”What is your next move, Y/N,” Frank said.

He takes a huge bite from his burger.

”I have nothing else left for me here. We are wanted so I thought maybe I can tag along” You said.

He starts to think and he drinks his soda and you started to eat again.

”Okay, you can come with me to Canada. I have a friend who can help us” Frank said.

You nod.

--

You met Logan, he has been friends with Frank for years. They trust each other now you're friends with Logan. You told him what happened to your family and he understands the pain and he didn't judge you. Logan told you and Frank that the cops is after you two. But you didn't care, now you want to figure out what you will do with your life.

[thatsgay-writes]

Ok so I have a n idea about why reader got kidnapped in frosta x reader, feel free to use it if you liked it , so I thought: the people that are in all black and wear a mask they are part of the horde/crimson waste and they want to take over the kingdom of snow cause it is the strongest and the biggest kingdom of etheria, so they used reader against frosta to threaten her and to give them the kingdom, since reader can't fight and doesn't have powers, they used her, they recorded the reader being tortured and they send it the the princesses, but bow and entrapta hacked the video to find where they live and all of them go to save reader, frosta saves her and...you can imagine what happened next :) maybe reader comforting frosta or....fluffy ending :) 🥰🥰🥰😇

Not me posting

Anyways, I am finally putting an end to this mini series after like... a long time, hope you enjoy.

Frosta x Reader Part 3

Warning: Verbal/Physical Abuse

The kingdom of snows had fallen into a deep depression. It had been months since you were taken and Frosta was slowly losing hope that she would see you again. Frosta had not been faring well and was barely able to keep up with her royal duties. The weekly meetings that you both once held died out pretty fast after your capture. Adora and Catra use to visit often, when they would take breaks from searching for you, but slowly stopped visiting when Catra got pregnant.

All Frosta felt anymore was anger, fear, and heartbreak. She was angry that she couldn't save you all those months ago and angry that she still couldn't find you. She was scared about how you were doing. She would stay up wondering most nights if you were still even alive and that would lead to nightmares when she would finally pass out from exhaustion. She was heartbroken as she watched the others in the alliance thrive in their own lives and marriages. Most of them had children already and now some were expecting more. It just reminded her about all the talks the two of you would have about having children and growing old together.

---

"Queen Frosta!" A guard yelled as they burst through the doors and into the throne room. Frosta waved off the other guards who immediately stood at alert and glared at the guard who arrived unannounced. "What is it?' Frosta asked bored, she was ready to return to her room and be alone. "I just received a tablet from a hawk, we started to review the video but stopped once we saw her face." Frosta perked up at the sound of "her". Could it be you? Were you alive?

Without a second thought, Frosta hit the emergency Alliance button and took the tablet from the guard. "Thank you, return to your post." She said as she walked briskly to the war room. She set the tablet in a safe she had and called for her maids to clean the room. This could be her only chance at getting you back, she was going to be prepared.

---

The Princess Alliance, or what was left of them that wasn't pregnant or taking care of children, busted through the throne room doors expecting it to be a mess as it had been last time. Instead they were greeted by a guard who lead them to the war room. They sent Frosta confused looks as they took their seats in the dark room. As soon as they all sat, Frosta pressed play on the tablet and let a holo-screen play the video that was on the tablet.

"We'll only say this once." A cloaked figure said as he grabbed your beaten and bloody face and pointed it towards the camera. "Give us control of your kingdom and you can have your lovely wife back... Even though, it seems that she likes spending time with use." The person in the cloak said smugly and turned towards you, only to for you to spit in their face. "You bitch!" They roared as they sent a swift but hard backhand across your face. "You will learn your place, mutt."

The person grabbed you by your hair, causing you to flinch in pain, and karate chopped you in the throat before letting go. Your body fell to the floor as you attempted to catch your breath. The Princess Alliance members gasped at the sight of your body. You were clearly malnourished, your spine and ribs showed prominently as you layed on the floor. Your eyes were dark and sunken in, showing the clear exhaustion that you felt. What had they done to you?

The cloak person turned to look at the screen again before speaking. "You have 24 hours to officially surrender or you won't have a wife anymore." The screen turned black as a count down showed on the screen.

20:00:00

---

The war room was flowing with activities as Bow, Entrapta, and Emily started to try and hack the tablet that held the video of you in it, hoping to get at least an idea of where the video was shot from. The others, Adora, Sea Hawk, Scorpia, and Hordak, started coming up with battle and infiltration plans for when they got your location. Spinnerella and Netossa made sure Frosta was okay, trying to provide motherly affection that they had for Frosta and her wife. All Frosta could do was stare at the timer in front of her.

10:00:00

---

"This is it. This is it." Was all Frosta could keep saying in her head as the Princess Alliance rode two skiffs towards the crimson waste. Frosta was finally bringing you home. After months of loneliness, fear, anger, and heartache, it would all finally disappear as soon as she held you in her arms. The only thing she was worried about now was if you would blame her or not.

5:00:00

---

The group snuck through the tower as quickly and quietly as they could. They couldn't get caught now, not when they were so close to bringing you home. Bow held up his hand to stop the group as they came to an intersection in the hallway, his tracker pad pointing in the direction of the right turn. The room almost 15 feet away from the group. He looked back at his friends and saw as determination was showing in all their eyes. This was it, they were getting you back, Frosta was going to get her happy ending.

00:10:00

---

They had to have known they were in the building. There were way too many masked figures in the room you were being held in for them not to know. The Princess Alliance members fought hard but it felt as if the people in cloaks never stopped coming. They would knock one down and 2 more would appear in their place. In the midst of all the fighting, Frosta had told Entrapta to go through the vents to find where they were holding you, the room they were in was obviously a trap. Entrapta did return with you but not in the way Frosta had hoped.

They had knocked down the last of the cloaked people and all stood at the ready as the door opened. They relaxed some seeing Entrapta enter the room first, but immediately got back into a defensive position as they saw the leader of the cloaked people enter behind her. Shortly behind them were two burley looking men, one of whom was holding your unconscious form in his arms. "I certainly should have expected this." The leader said, the smugness clear in their voice. "Let's finish this."

00:00:03

00:00:02

00:00:01

00:00:00

---

"ugh..." You groaned out as you rolled over. You felt a breath on your neck and let yourself imagine that you were home and out of the shit hole you had been stuck in for months. You let your dream play out more but grew confused when you felt arms, that you thought you had imagined, tighten around you pulling you closer towards the heat of someone else's body. Realizing that you were not in fact dreaming about sharing the bed with another person, you hopped out of bed and away from whoever was holding you.

You sudden movement had woken up the person laying next to you and your eyes widened as you took in the sight of blue hair and black eyes that you had been dreaming about for months. You covered your mouth as you felt tears and sobs start to wrack your fragile body. "Y/n? Are you okay?" Frosta asked worried as she climbed over the bed and towards you before standing in front of you, not knowing is she should reach towards you or not.

"Is this real?" You ask as your reach towards Frosta's face, but stop a few inches short afraid that if you touch her the illusion would disappear. Frosta grew a sad smile on her face as she watched you have an internal battle with yourself. "It's real, my love. You're home, I promise." You took a deep breath and connected your hand to Frosta's cheek slowly, letting out a gasp as you felt her warmth against your palm. "I... I'm... this is real." You say with a watery laugh as tears start to fall faster. Frosta grabs the hand that was resting on her cheek and squeezes. "Hell yeah it is." She states with big smile.

Without warning, you pull Frosta in for a kiss. Letting the both of you destress for the first time in months, now that you were in each others arms once again. The both of you fell back into bed and held each other for the rest of the night. Enjoying the peace you both felt. Both of you knew, that some things would be different. That there was going to be things you needed to work through but for now... For now, it could all wait till tomorrow.

PREVIOUS

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT. 1]

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse

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NIKKI

1987

I throw another drink back not long after yelling obscurities at Viv as she stomped out of VIP to leave and go home, between more lines of blow, a trip to the bathroom to get a fix and some drinks, we decide to take the party to Steven's new place. 

"You guys just can't be too loud, though, got it?" He says as sternly as he can as we get inside and he fumbles for his key. 

"Alright, alright, alright," I mumble, stepping inside, grabbing his bottle of Jack off the counter before getting comfortable on the floor by the window. 

We all talk--as best we can--for a little while, Steven and the boys making some calls to get some dealers here, and the only thing on my mind is getting a potent fix, until I hear something...very faint, very familiar...very, very, familiar...I furrow my brows to focus more, ignoring the guys' laughter and voices, my eyes training on the wall opposite of me. 

My subconscious puts it together before my conscious does, like smelling a blanket from a childhood home and immediately being taken back before your brain can quite grasp the feeling. 

Multiple memories shrouding that sound of Vivian that only she can really pull off. 

It doesn't take rocket science equation solving skills to put together why I'm currently hearing her soft, pretty moans carry on next door. 

I'm pretty sure more members of Guns, aside from Steven, are staying here right now. 

Apparently Stevie hears it not long after and slips into the next suite, where the sound is coming from, that's connected to his suite. 

I don't hear it anymore after he gets back in here. 

"Dealer's coming or what?" I ask Steven, my high starting to get blowed from the fact that my wife is next door on her back for someone who isn't me. 

I'd be jealous if I weren't numb to it by now.

"They're all tied up, man." Steven tells me and I groan, thinking for a second. 

An idea comes to mind that makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but I'm desperate and left with no option at this point. 

"I know a guy," I mumble, dragging myself up to the phone in the little kitchen area, reluctantly dialing a number I never wanted to dial again. 

It rings once...twice...three times… 

"Hello?" He answers and I roll my eyes. 

"'Sup man, it's Nikki." I reply, trying to put on my best "friendly" voice, even though it's making my blood boil that the bastard I could see myself killing is ultimately the one that's gonna be able to save the day. 

"Hey, dude." He replies. 

"Me and a few buddies of mine are out here at the Franklin Plaza Suites and need a few things." I rub the back of my neck. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet, and he reluctantly breathes out. 

"I'll see what I can do." I can hear the satisfaction in his voice that I'm having to call him. 

Within the next forty minutes there's more people here than I'm comfortable with, groupies, and hangerson, and other drug adoring morons, and then my saving grace comes through the door once Steven lets him in. 

Slash is already slipping into a Jack induced stupor. Sally came in a few minutes ago screaming at all of us guys for leaving her at the Cat House. 

We didn't even realize we'd forgotten her. 

She's in the bathroom, probably keeping herself in there to keep from starting an argument with Slash in front of everyone. 

Robbin's on the phone with Laurie.

Apparently it's just in men's nature to get fucked up, call our wives, and profess our undying love for them despite the fact we cheat on them nearly every time we hangout with our friends. 

I wonder what would happen if I went in there on her and Duff right now. 

What would she say? 

Probably nothing. 

She'd just look at the floor and try not to cry, probably. 

What would I do? 

I know that I know what's going on between them, but if I actually walked in and saw them together, caught in the act…

I'd either be a pussy and cry over it, or kill them both--him first and make her watch, and then just slowly torture her or something. God, I'm fucked up. Even though I'm pretty sure being married to me is torture enough to her. 

I know it's torture to me, too. 

"Here dude," Sparkie hands me a syringe and a spoon, and I look at him, too out of focus to concentrate on getting it right. 

"Fix me." I say to him and he scoffs. 

"Okay, dude." He starts getting it ready and I look at that wall again. Staring at it, taking a sip of my drink. 

Fucking Vivian. 

Of course. Her. Of all the women I've hooked up with and dated in my life, she--the most harmless, at least in my dumbfuck mind when I first met her--is the one to screw me over like this. 

And I've let her. 

If I did what Vince does to Sharise and have that whole, "no hanging out with your boy friends without me" rule, this wouldn't even be an issue. 

That's the problem. Somewhere along the way I loosened her leash a little too much and now she's chewed her way through it entirely. 

"You look like you're in hell, you know," Sparkie tells me, fixing the tourniquet around my arm… "But that's okay, you're about to be in heaven in just a few seconds." He assures me. 

I know he's right. I just need to hang on to that. 

In just a few seconds, I'll be--

I hear Vivian, again, and I reach around my neck and grab onto her cross I've been wearing for weeks, now, squeezing it at the sting of the needle going into my skin. 

I feel him shoot me up, my mind waiting to chase and catch the high that I just know is about to come. 

My fingers slip from the crucifix, and I feel myself fall back before a weightless feeling washes over me.

Present

I keep rereading the damn paper, repeatedly, trying my hardest not to throw a fit...

Nikki Sixx and his wife, Vivian, recently confirmed that she is indeed pregnant issuing a simple and straightforward,"Yes, it's true," statement earlier this week through Nikki's manager, and--as speculated--her pregnancy is not with Nikki. Many fans and some friends of the couple are blown out of the water by this sudden turn of events, others who are familiar with the rockstar and his band but never really paid much attention to his personal relationships, are now curious as to who exactly Vivian Sixx is. Well, in an open letter, rumored to be intended for print in Rolling Stone, a few anonymous former roadies of Mötley Crüe--who partook on their Girls, Girls, Girls, tour in 1987--are here to introduce who they saw behind the scenes of flashing cameras and public sweet moments with husband Nikki. 

"This is a letter to Mötley Crüe fans, we're a mere handful of people out of the many who witnessed monstrosities behind the scenes while on tour with the Crüe since Summer of 1987, none of which were caused by the band or any members, themselves, but one woman in particular. We had no reason to really bring any of this up, but in light of recent news, we are disheartened and angered of the betrayal against one of the four men who gave us an opportunity to live several months in our lives that will forever impact us in the best way known, and provide heartwarming memories by the dozen. This is not an attack on Nikki Sixx, especially given his past struggles with opioid addiction, alcoholism, as well as his abusive wife. The first time we met Vivian, she was polite and friendly, but very assertive. It was obvious it would be her way or no way,  and often times she and Nikki would go back and forth with who was running things. It was obvious Nikki was unwell at times, whether it'd be hungover, sick from withdrawal or simply tired from a show the night before. Vivian would choose these times when he was at his most exhausted to pick fights with him. He'd tell her to go away or 'f**k off,' and she'd continue to verbally and mentally beat him down more than he clearly already was. When Rolling Stone came to interview the band shortly after the wild rumor Vanity started publicly, we were told Vivian had tried to physically attack the reporter working on the story, simply because he made the comment that Pepsi wasn't good for her. Small things like that would often set her off, leaving security, managers, and band members to try to dodge fists while pulling her off of her unsuspecting victim, who was typically Nikki. Many times we'd hear them arguing in the hotel rooms, dressing rooms, bathrooms, tour bus, etc., usually followed by sounds of what we can only describe as 'pitchy, hungry, pornstar moans' on her part--clearly using her body to get back in his good graces after wearing him down. After their fights, Nikki would always have a bottle of alcohol on hand, some kind of drug, and would keep to himself. Our comradery with him soon began to dwindle with each month because it was obvious she was beginning to suck the life out of him. He was more introverted overtime, and higher more often than he was at the beginning of the tour. It really got bad when Guns N' Roses came on tour for a month, because Vivian's attacks on him and the other members of Mötley Crüe, began to pop off as randomly and explosively as fireworks. We'd witness some foul exchange (brought on by Vivian)  between her and Nikki backstage, either verbal or physical, nearly every night. People can talk down on the Crüe for being bad boys, but they've shown everybody that's helped them on tour, gratitude. All the wives and girlfriends that would come on that we'd offer food and drinks to would always express gratitude with a smile and a warm heart, but Vivian would always stay silent and cold towards us. She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her. We aren't surprised that she's pregnant, she probably video taped herself conceiving the damn thing and sent it to Nikki. We hope she did so it can be practice  for her inevitable low-budget porn career when she runs out of rockstars to f**k and kill, as we've mentioned, she already sounds like one in the throws of passion. Anyway, Nikki, we're hoping you decide to kick her aside and start fresh. Duff, get a paternity test, dude. Crüe fans, don't let that red-headed bitch fool you."

"Who the hell is Page Six to give these bastards a platform in the first place, Doc?!" I snap.

"Nikki, I am handling it, I'm on it--"

"--You tell the L.A. Times and Rolling fucking Stone if they take this shit and run with it, too, I'm personally coming to their offices and fucking them up. Not the publications themselves, but the people trying to put this out there in print, individually." I hiss.

"Nikki, just--" 

"--And who the hell--what roadies did this?!" 

"I don't know, Nikki, but I'm trying my hardest to get it cleaned up." He assures me. 

"'She's a trashy, bitchy, whiney, hateful, spiteful, conniving, plotting python that now has her cold-blooded grasp around not only Nikki's neck, but also Duff's. Her game is to find the most well rounded guys while maintaining under her guise that she's a kind, Christianly woman, and see how far she can push them until they work themselves to death, literally, with trying to please her'?!" I read that snippet, just so he can be reminded how fucked this is, trying my hardest not to start pitching a fucking fit. 

"Fucking AJaxx isn't even cleaning this up! Press mongrels are gonna be humping these bastards legs for giving them sales for the next nine months!" I outburst. 

"Sixx, don't worry about it, alright? It won't go past this shitty Page Six story, okay?" 

"It's fucking horse shit." I ignore him, trying to keep my cool. "Fuck." I kick at the leg of the table, running a hand through my hair.

"I guess one decently positive thing is that Viv doesn't know about this," he says next and I shake my head a little, feeling a migraine starting to come on, strong. 

I was tempted then to check myself out of rehab and 'handle' it myself, but decided it wouldn't be worth it. I hoped it would go away and it would all blow over eventually.

"Vivian, don't listen to any of it, alright? Me and you and everyone on that tour know damn well it wasn't just you being a bitch and us being the innocent victims." I say through the phone as Viv tries to calm down, her breathing shaky and ragged from crying so much. 

"I know that but the fans and other people don't know that." She says to me, her voice quiet and tired. "I'm so embarrassed, Nikki." She adds. "I'm already embarrassed that everybody knows I cheated on you but now this whole thing…" she trails off and I feel guilt tug at my heart. 

I don't know what the fuck to say. 

I'm used to criticism from the press, but none of them have tore into me or any of the guys--except Vince after the Razzle accident--so personally and extensively as they're tearing at her. 

Calling me a devil worshipper and saying my music is shitty gets annoying and frustrating and even infuriating at times, but attacking my wife and calling her a low budget porn star and telling me to kick her aside? 

Fuck that. 

"I'm sorry, Viv. I really am." I assure her, honestly, closing my eyes when I hear her stifle a little sob out. "Where are you at right now?" I ask. 

"Duff wanted me to meet his family." She tells me. "I'll be back Saturday." 

I'm relieved she actually has a reason for not being here, but I'm also hurt that she didn't give me a heads up. But I don't want to talk about it right now. I think she's been punished enough today. 

"Okay...you didn't show yesterday and I was just worried." I admit. 

"I know, it was just a spur of the moment thing. He asked me last week and I didn't think it'd be an issue." 

"Oh." 

I glance around and let out a breath. 

"I, um, I'm gonna go. I got a group thing with the guys at 3:00." I tell her. 

"Okay." 

"Are you gonna be okay or do I need to break out and kick someone's ass?" I ask her, half-joking, and she laughs, making me smile. 

"I'll be okay." She tells me. 

"I'll see you next week, Sixx." 

I can practically hear the smile in her voice when she says, "see you next week." 

We hang up and I rub my lips together, taking a few deep breaths before heading to where me and the guys meet with Amber three times a week now. 

Tommy and Vince are waiting for me, and I plop down beside them, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, hands running over my face…

"Psst," Tommy nudges me and I look at him as Vince gets up to grab a cup of coffee. 

"What?" I ask him, and he puts his finger over his mouth. 

"You seen the shit they're on Vivian for?" He whispers and I furrow my brows, looking around. 

"The room is empty except us, dude, why are you--"

"--Shh," he says. 

"Why are you whispering?" I finish my sentence. 

"Because they probably have this motherfucker bugged out the ass." He replies, glancing around again. "I'm thinking of breaking outta here, man." He whispers very, very quietly. 

"You do know we're not being held here by legal obligation, right? They won't chase us down and have the cops on us if we just check ourselves out." I point out and he furrows his brows a little. 

"Oh." 

"Why do you wanna 'break out'?" I ask. 

"I miss Heather and my dogs and I wanna be able to be there Viv, dude. She fucking needs us right now and we're, like, over an hour away--disconnected from shit. I mean we wouldn't even know what the fuck was going on in the world if Doc wasn't keeping us in the loop, ya know?" 

I think about it for a second. 

"We're over a month into our three month stay, dude." I state. "We can't just throw in the towel, now." 

"I don't mean ditch it and stay gone. I just mean check out for a few days, go back home, see what all is going on and come back." He shrugs. 

It seems oddly appealing. 

Way too appealing, actually. 

"I don't know, Tommy…" I rub the back of my neck.

"I already talked to Vince about it and he's down."

"Of course he is." 

"And we wouldn't be doing it tomorrow or anything. I'm thinking next week." 

"Does Doc know?" I ask. 

"Fuck Doc." He scoffs. 

"Agreed." I nod, chuckling. 

"So, you in or not, man?" 

"Just for a few days?" 

"Just for a few days." 

"Then we're all coming back in?" 

"Like we never left to begin with." 

"No drugs, no parties, not even alcohol." 

"Just spending time with our families and then back to the grindstone." He states. 

"...I'm in."

 ...You know when you're on a shitty diet, eating boring, tasteless, "healthy" food, and then decide you've been stuck to your diet long enough that you can have one slice of cake because you're disciplined enough to control yourself? And now, two years later, you're still telling yourself you'll get back on your diet because after that slice of cake you just said, "fuck it," and never thought about forcing yourself to eat lettuce again? Let's just say leaving rehab prematurely works the same damn way.

[jaex2]

Failing | Yoongi Imagine

I was listening to the song "I Wanna Know" by The Hunna and was instantly inspired to write this AU. It's such a bop, I encourage you all to listen!

Preview: You've been feeling neglected, and you're ready to give up. But, Yoongi doesn't give up easily.

Genre: Mafia/gang AU, some angst and fluff

Warnings: Nothing much, mentions of violence/drugs

****

You were fully aware things had not been going well the last 6 months. The gang had lost some valuable hideouts to rivals, a couple members defected, and some profit loss. When things aren't going the way Yoongi wanted them to, everyone around him paid the price. You couldn't remember how many people you've watched him verbally degrade and physically slap around.

You were lucky enough to have the prestigious position of being his girl, so he didn't do anything that drastic to you. It was more like...emotional warfare. He came to bed late, left early, and probably had only spoken two or three sentences to you recently. And they weren't exactly warm and fuzzy.

You didn't require much affection. You knew getting into this lifestyle you weren't going to get a boyfriend who brought you home roses and took you to nice restaurants. Those things didn't matter to you anyway. The only thing that did was him.

It was Friday evening at about 10pm when there was a light knock on your door.

"Come in?" You said hesitantly, confused who would be knocking on the door.

"Hey." Hoseok's voice rang out as he slid the door open.

"Oh, hey." You half smiled; it was really the best you had to give anyone these days.

"I hadn't seen you in a few days, I got nervous." He admitted sheepishly, standing in the door way.

"Yeah, I haven't wanted to be around anyone. Is Yoongi around?" You asked cautiously, though you knew the answer.

"He left around 7pm, saying he had to take care of something. Just took a couple guys and one of the cars." Hoseok shrugged, looking as defeated as you felt. He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

"Don't take it personally. I haven't seen him for more than five minutes in the 6 months." You replied.

"Wow, really?" Hoseok looked shocked. "I always figured you were his weak spot."

"I used to be, but I don't know whats happening. He doesn't speak to me, hell he doesn't even look at me if he sees me around the compound." You spat, clearly feeling the emotions you'd been shoving down rising up.

"You've never called it a compound before." Hoseok pointed out. Fine, technically it was a mansion. But it was the main base for the gang, as well as where you resided with Yoongi.

"I can't call it home. He's what makes it home. And he's not really here." You said. "I can't take it anymore."

If you were a crier you'd probably be crying, but this life had hardened you.

"I think I'm going to leave." You finally said.

"That's crazy, Y/N." Hoseok retorted, practically choking on his saliva.

"Is it? Would he even notice?" You replied, looking at him.

"Of course he would. And how would you even get out with all the guards? And where would you go?" Hoseok looked slightly panicked.

"Pretend you didn't talk to me tonight. You can't be liable for knowing information about me if I'm successful." You stated, standing up. "Just go."

Hoseok stood up with you, and stared at you hard for a few moments. "Don't do this to him."

"He's fine." You crossed your arms tightly.

"We both know he wouldn't be...It's just a phase." He tried to defend his best friend and boss.

"6 months isn't a phase! I was patient. The first few months, I figured he'd snap out of it. But it's been half a year. How much of my life am I supposed to spend being ignored by the man I love?" You asked softly, avoiding Hoseok's gaze.

Without another word, he nodded slightly and left your room. He couldn't bare the idea of saying goodbye and he was hoping you would calm down and change your mind.

You felt a moment of bravery after finally getting your feelings off your chest. You grabbed a bag out of the closet and starting shoving clothes into it. You couldn't think clearly on what you needed. You looked around the room frantically, trying to figure out what to take. Your head was so foggy with sadness and fear that you couldn't collect yourself enough to form a plan.

The door crashing open caused you to jump and drop the bag, spinning to face the bedroom door.

"Y/N." Yoongi said flatly, looking down at the bag.

You swallowed hard and couldn't find words to spit out. What were you going to say? You were caught red handed.

His eyes never left the bag.

"What are you doing?" He asked, low and stern. Still not meeting your eyes.

You started to stutter out an answer but he cut you off.

"You...were going to leave me?" His eyes snapped up to meet yours. He tilted his head to the side, and waited for an answer, no emotions on his face.

"Yes." You answered, regaining your composure. You straightened your shoulders and stared him down confidently. Now wasn't the time to come off weak.

To your surprise, he chuckled lightly. You watched him carefully.

He grabbed the picture frame off the table next to the door and threw it, the sound of the glass shattering made you jump.

"Yoongi..." You warned, trailing off.

"It's been almost three years, and you're going to leave over a rough patch?!" He shouted, and you were sure the whole compound could hear him.

"A rough patch!?" You yelled back, your fiery spirit matching his. "It's been 6 months! How long did you expect me to deal with this shit?"

"Deal with what?! You live comfortably. You don't have to work. You have more money then most people ever see in their life." He explained, exasperated, fists balled up at his sides.

"Well, I don't care about any of those things! All I wanted was you to love me!" You screamed at him.

He span around and punched the wall behind him. You heard a crack, presumably his knuckles, but he didn't falter. He leaned his forehead against the wall and punched it one more time. When he retracted it you could see the blood dripping down his fingers.

"All of this...because you think I don't love you?" He whispered. He turned around and there were tears in his eyes. You had never seen Yoongi cry. You don't think anyone had.

You swallowed all the mean things you had to spit out the moment you saw tears dripping down his cheeks.

"Why do you think I've been so absent? It's because I was failing, Y/N. I was failing you and everyone that relies on me. How could I face you when everything I promised could've been lost? I put my head down and went to work to preserve our future. I'm sorry that that was uncomfortable for you, even though I was the one risking my life day in and day out so some day I would be able to look you in the eye again!" He shouted, stepping towards you, grabbing your face with his hands. "Those were all things out of love for you, whether you're strong enough to acknowledge it or not." He growled, his face inches from yours.

You breathed out, locking eyes with him. "You could've included me! I would've been there for you." You exclaimed, wrapping your hands around his wrists and pulling them off your cheeks.

"I had to do a lot of dangerous things. You think I was going to put you in harms way just so you could feel needed?" He spat. "That's immature thinking. I did what I did to protect you. And if you hate me for that, that's fine. At least I know I kept you safe." He sighed in defeat, his tear stained face making your breath catch in your throat.

Everything about you wanted to be angry and stand your ground...

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

"Do you know what I'd have to do if I ever lost you?" He asked, stepping towards you once more, but keeping his hands to himself.

You hesitated before speaking. "...tell me."

He reached for your hand and took it in both hands.

"I'd have to destroy everything that reminded me of you. I'd burn this place down." He looked up at you, the connection you two had always had making itself known with a gravitational pull you couldn't resist. You took your free hand and grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him to you, crashing your lips together. He immediately responded, grabbing your face and deepening the kiss. Every emotion you felt in the last half of a year poured into the kiss. It was rough, needy, passionate. He pulled away and inhaled.

"Yoongi. You need to either live life with me by your side, or spend the rest of your life wondering where I am. I'm not asking you to drag me into every fight and drug deal. But you made me strong. You toughened me up. So embrace it, and let me be with you." You explained, hoping your words didn't fall on deaf ears.

He stared deeply in your eyes, before exhaling slowly.

"Fine." He agreed stubbornly. "You don't get to leave, then." He huffed, crossing his arms. You giggled, you knew you are the only one who ever saw him with his guard down.

He reached out a hand to you, and you obliged, giving him your hand. As soon as he did, he pulled you towards him and wrapped one arm around your waist, and the other hand resting on the back of your head.

"How did you know I was packing?" You asked into his chest.

"Hoseok is my best friend, not yours." His chest rumbled with a chuckle.

"Damn it."