#and I just had two obvious fucking epiphanies in the same night

[knowlessman]

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IT HAS TO BE 960

I SOLVED IT

[lambtotheslaughterr]

I Burn : Part Six

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART FIVE | MASTERLIST | PART SEVEN

            Later that night, you decided to hide out in your room. After Rafe’s suggestive thoughts, all you wanted was to be alone. You had ignored Dr. Mooney’s concerned looks as you loaded into the van, & pointedly ignored Rafe’s sat ahead of you in the van. Rafe was wrong. You didn’t feel tugged between two men, you felt like a piece of meat. Whether it was true or not, Rafe had planted the seeds in your mind. Now, you didn’t feel like you could be open towards Dr. Mooney. And that was a major loss as you felt Dr. Mooney was the one man in your life who didn’t sum you up to be a harlot. He cared about you, more than your own father did. But after what Rafe said… You didn’t know who you could trust.

            You skipped dinner that night, instead using that time to write in your journal that Dr. Mooney had given you. But you weren’t writing because you were feeling the burn. You wrote about everything that Rafe had told you. How you felt confused, betrayed, troubled. And after filling out a couple pages, you reread what you wrote & that’s when you realized something major. Recovery was working. You were disappointed that a trusted man wanted you, if it were true. You may have felt that brief burning at the beach, but it ultimately died out. You didn’t want Dr. Mooney to want you, not like you had when you first came to the facility. You wanted him to respect you, to be proud of you.

            Though the epiphany brought a sense of comfort & a smile to your face—you were getting better—it too brought doubt. About your future here. How could you continue your one-on-one sessions with Dr. Mooney now that you would be reading into every word he said, every action he took towards you. Rafe had gotten into your head & that burned.

            You resolved that you would avoid Rafe for the rest of your time here. He had never done anything to help you. He tempted you, pushed you to embrace your addiction rather than fight against it. Rafe didn’t care about you, that much had become obvious to you. In the beginning, you had been drawn to him, regretfully. And he took advantage of it. As you reflected on the last couple weeks: how he got into your head on his first day, his rejection of you at the community garden, cornering you in the hall closet, even following you into the quiet room. Rafe was bored, like everyone else was under that rood. You were only a toy to him. So, fuck him.

            As you were sitting at your desk, your back to the door, you heard a gentle rap on the doorframe. You turned in your seat, dreading that it would be object of your endless thoughts, but you were pleasantly surprised that it was Albert.

            “Hey.” Albert was holding a plate of food. “You weren’t at dinner, so I figured I’d bring you food.”

            “Oh,” you stood up awkwardly, tossing your journal onto the desk, “thanks, Albert.”

            You gestured for him to come inside & he did, offering you the plate. You took it but placed it on the nightstand by your bed. Your appetite was still non-existent.

            “You alright?” He asked, but you knew he only asked since the answer was obvious.

            You shrugged, “I don’t know.”

            “What’s going on?” Albert leaned against the opposite wall, his hands in his pockets as he stared concerningly at you.

            “I don’t know.” You repeated, avoiding his eyes. Though you didn’t trust Rafe & now Dr. Mooney, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to place your trust in someone else.

            “Something happened at the beach.” Albert commented without question. “Didn’t it?”

            Your eyes briefly met his before you shook your head, “Just the same old bullshit. You know how it is.”

            “Sure.” Albert nodded but he didn’t appear convinced, “But I don’t like Rafe, don’t trust him. And he had to of said something to upset you. You were quiet in the van.”

            Damn Albert & his too observant behaviors.

            “It’s really not your business.” You soured.

            Albert half-scoffed, half-laughed but he wasn’t amused.

            “You need a friend.”

            “I have friends.” You replied sternly, “Ones that aren’t addicts & life ruiners.”

            “Wow.” Albert cocked his head, “Ouch.”

            Guilt flooded you immediately. This was Rafe’s doing. Your walls & distrust because of him were now being directed at people who didn’t deserve it.

            “I’m sorry.” You sighed, holding your head in your hands, “You’re right. I do need a friend.”

            Albert waved away your apology, replacing it with a sympathetic smile, “Talk to me, dude. Anything you say will stay between us.”

            “And Siena? You won’t go running to her with the gossip.” Albert & Siena had become attached at the hip in the last couple weeks. In fact, you were surprised she wasn’t in your bedroom with the two of you.

            Albert chuckled, “I love Siena. And I love Siena because she couldn’t give a shit about any of the drama surrounding others.”

            “That’s not a confirmation that you won’t say anything.” You teased, but there was an undertone of seriousness.

            “I won’t say a word.” Albert promised.

            So, you told Albert everything. While Dr. Mooney wasn’t allowed to indulge others about your sessions & what the two spoke about, the same couldn’t be said for you. You informed Albert about your struggles, Dr. Mooney’s support, Rafe’s mind-fucking, & finally, about what Rafe had told you about Dr. Mooney at the beach. By the time you were finished, you looked to Albert for comfort, or at least some sense of what you should do.

            But Albert’s silence unsettled you.

            “What?” You frowned.

            Albert looked at you once then sighed, standing up from where he was sat beside you on your bed, “I, uh, heard something the other night.”

            “What did you hear?” You questioned.

            “These walls,” Albert pointed to the walls of your bedroom, “they aren’t that thick. Voices carry.”

            You just watched him as he appeared to struggle to tell you what he was trying to.

            “My room is next to Rafe’s. And one night, pretty late actually, just before light’s out, I heard another voice from inside Rafe’s room.”

            “Okay…”

            Albert stared solemnly at you, “It was Dr. Mooney.”

            Dr. Mooney? He was never at the facility that late. Why would he…?

            “He was warning Rafe to stay away from you.”

            That heart in your stomach feeling returned with a vigor.

            “But that doesn’t mean anything…” You tried to pitifully defend your doctor, despite your own negative feelings towards him.

            “I didn’t think so either at the time. I thought it was strange that he was confronting a patient in their room, especially that late at night. And honestly, I was siding with him. I mean, I’ve said it myself to Rafe, to stay away from you, so I thought Dr. Mooney was just looking out for your best interests too but…”

            When he paused for a lengthy amount of time, you pushed, “But what?”

            “But” Albert sighed, shaking his head, “I don’t know. After what you just told me, perhaps Rafe is right. What Dr. Mooney did, or how he did it, was out of character for someone in his position. Seems personal now.”

            You swallowed your discomfort. Could it actually be possible that Rafe was telling the truth? The potential made your head swim sickeningly.

            “Oh, god.” You held yourself, pressing your face into your arms.

            Albert noticed your change in body language, returning to his spot beside you. He placed a hand on your back, rubbing circles there, “Look, I could be wrong! I hope I’m wrong. And Rafe could’ve just twisted the conversation to get in your head.”

            “But you heard it yourself, Albert! Rafe even has you questioning…” You sighed in frustration, “Everything has gone to shit.”

            Albert offered a small smile, but it did little to make you feel better, “I feel like I just made things worse.”

            “No.” You rushed out, “You didn’t. You helped. I just… don’t know what to do now. Do I tell my parents?”

            Albert dropped his hand at that, seemingly deep in thought.

            “What now?” You asked exasperated.

            “You’re just making me remember something.”

            “Well, what?!” Albert’s pauses were beginning to get on your nerves. If he was here to ease you, he wasn’t succeeding.

            “It was just gossip at the time, there was no proof of it & all speculation, as far as us patients went.” Albert began, “But when I was here the first time, a year ago, there was a rumor that Dr. Mooney was sleeping with one of the patients. She was here one day then gone the next. No good-bye party or anything. Just gone. And then Dr. Mooney was gone, too. ‘On vacation’, they said. But I don’t know. The timing was concerning.”

            You frowned.

            “We thought that maybe they were just saying he was on vacation while they investigated, but of course we never heard anything else, if there even was an investigation. If it was even true.”

            Your head was spinning. You felt nauseous.

            “But he came back. And everything was normal. He was his normal self. All the nurses & other doctors still treated him like they had before he left. That’s why it was just gossip. People could’ve just been bored, coming up with their own theories & that’s just the one that stuck.”

            You shook your head, “You should go.”

            Albert wasn’t helping. When you got back to the facility from the beach, you were already exhausted from the information Rafe fed you, & now Albert was feeding into that more so.

            “_____?”

            You stood up, “I’m sorry, Albert. I’m tired. I just need to be alone.”

            Albert frowned but said nothing, just nodded & stood up, “I really didn’t mean to make things worse.”

            You nodded but couldn’t say anything further. Once Albert crossed your threshold, you slammed the door shut. Then you dragged yourself down against the door until your butt met the cool floor.

            What the fuck was going on?

            Today was a bad day. It was one thing to have to face Albert, Rafe, & Dr. Mooney in group session, but it was another thing to have it observed by Dr. Frazer. He was the head doctor & director of Arrowhead. Whenever he came around, which wasn’t often, everyone felt restless. He had steely eyes, a stiff stance, & hardly spoke a word. Just quietly observed.

            That day in group session, you forcefully placed yourself between Siena & Renee, not wanting to sit near any of the men, but that only meant you were forced to look at them. You felt you couldn’t win for as long as you were trapped in the facility.

            And today’s group session topic had been brutal. Discussion surrounded how your addiction harmed those closest to you. Renee, as usual, never took the questions seriously, always giving short, brief answers. Albert & Siena were thoughtful in their responses, humbling in nature & self-reflective of their recklessness. But when it came to be your turn, you felt like you would projectile vomit over everyone.

            “Um.” You felt your hands shaking, so you hid them between your thighs, “I think the person who has been effected the most by my addiction is my dad.”

            You kept your eyes low, unable to look anyone in the eye. Too scared to.

            “Because of what I did he was forced to fire his TA. And since then he has been facing a lot of backlash at work.”

            Renee gave a soft chuckle but quickly hid it with a forced throat clearing. You ignored her reaction.

            “How does that make you feel?” Dr. Mooney questioned. You still hadn’t looked him directly in his eyes. You stared at his shoes.

            “Like shit.” You admitted, “I’ve never been really close to my dad, but now he can’t look at me. Treats me like scum.”

            Dr. Mooney hummed, “Have you considered that perhaps he feels like he failed you?”

            You flashed your eyes to Dr. Mooney’s, “What?”

            “Your father. Oftentimes the people closest to us are so angry with themselves for not addressing the addictions they see in their loved ones that they will sometimes project their feelings outwards.”

            You shook your head, “No, not him. He doesn’t blame himself, that much I know.”

            “It’s something to consider though.”

            “No.” You interjected, your voice hard, “It isn’t. My dad sees me for the whore that I am.”

            Renee snickered beside you, clearly amused by your antics. Dr. Mooney widened his eyes, briefly flashing them towards Dr. Frazer who sat in a chair similar to your own outside the circle.

            “Everyone here does.” You pointed out, gesturing to Renee, “She’s the only one who calls me what I am. Nympho, right.”

            “_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name firmly, likely in an attempt to control the conversation being had in front of his boss, but you were having none of it.

            “What?” You returned, shaking your head, “You taught us that the first step in recovery is admitting to our problems. I am a whore! I’m saying what it is!”

            In that moment, your eyes landed on Rafe who sat beside Dr. Mooney. He was slouched in his seat, his arms crossed in front of his chest. You hated that you couldn’t make out what he was thinking or feeling, but you hated even more that his stare was unwavering as you made a spectacle of yourself.

            “You’re a fucking asshole.” You pointed at Rafe. Then you turned to Renee, “And you’re a miserable bitch.” Renee laughed out loud at that.

            “_____!” Dr. Mooney & Albert said your name in unison, but it didn’t deter you.

            “And you two.” You stared at Dr. Mooney & Albert.

            “You’re weak.” You said to Albert. The flash of hurt on his face stayed with you but a moment as you focused your attention on the doctor directly across from you, “And you’re a fucking creep.”

            Dr. Mooney stood quickly then, dropping his clipboard onto his seat. You mirrored his movement, kicking your chair out from behind you so you could leave, “How’s that for harming those closest to me?”

            “_____.” Dr. Mooney’s voice was hard but a harder, deeper voice overpowered his.

            “Dr. Mooney.” Everyone stilled as Dr. Frazer spoke. It was only the second time in your stay at Arrowhead that you had heard his voice, “Sit back down.”

            Dr. Frazer then turned his eyes onto you. In an instant, your rebellious attitude had been stamped out. Unable to stand all eyes on you, & more so, how you had spit some horrible words at people, one of whom you particularly cared about, you rushed out of the room. You were a coward.

            No one came looking for you the rest of the day, not even Dr. Mooney. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. And now, you too didn’t have any friends. Albert had been your only one & you had insulted him in front of your peers. You cried yourself to sleep that night, knowing that the rest of your stay at the facility would be dreadful. But it was all your doing. There was no one to blame but yourself.

            The next morning though, before even breakfast, Nurse Carney appeared in your doorway.

            “Come with me.”

            Nurse Carney was usually all smiles & sunshine trapped within human skin. But there was no smile or bright radiance emanating from her as she looked at you.

            “Where are we going?”

            But she said nothing.

            So, you were forced to follow her through the corridors of the facility until she led you to the main office. At first, you thought she would bringing you to Dr. Mooney’s office, which you were far from looking forward to, however, she only led you past his office to another at the end of the hallway. The plate on the door made your stomach slosh.

            Dr. Holden Frazer.

            Oh, this couldn’t be good.

            Nurse Carney knocked on the door before the same solid voice from the day before sounded from the other side. She opened the door, poking her head in, “I have _____ here for you.”

            “Thank you, Nurse Carney. You may return to your duties.”

            Nurse Carney nodded, backing up to let you pass. You locked eyes with her once more, but she did not return any sort of kindness in her eyes.

            Dr. Frazer’s office was the complete opposite of Dr. Mooney’s. Whereas Dr. Mooney’s office was warm, welcoming, & comforting, Dr. Frazer’s was sterile, barren of any personality, & lacked any color. You felt immediately unease as you entered it.

            Behind the desk. Dr. Frazer sat upright in his chair, his eyes watching you as you stood before him shamefully. He then gestured for you to sit in one of the two chairs before his desk. Your defiance had been eradicated since yesterday, so you slowly took a seat. The chair itself as cold & uninviting as the office around it.

            “Your mother is on her way here.”

            Your jaw dropped. Oh, fuck.

            Dr. Frazer showed no reaction to your own, “After yesterday, she was called & informed about your outburst. So, she is coming in today for an appointment with myself to discuss your future here.”

            You pressed your lips together, “You’re kicking me out?”

            “That is up to her.” Dr. Frazer responded coldly.

            “And my father?”

            Dr. Frazer remained stoic, “Busy.”

            Of course. Of course he wouldn’t want to come. He was already ashamed of you. He didn’t need you to humiliate him further.

            You swallowed, “I’m sorry about yester—”

            “Apologies do not suffice here, Miss _____.” Dr. Frazer cut you off, “Your behaviour yesterday was unacceptable. You attacked patients & your attending doctor.”

            You hung your head, feeling heat bloom along your spine.

            “I know…”

            Silence hung in the air for a beat before Dr. Frazer spoke again.

            “She will be here within in the hour. I suggest you make yourself presentable & be on your best behaviour if you want to continue your treatment here.”

            You raised your head to meet his eyes behind your lashes.

            “Dismissed.”

            Surprised at his aloofness, you slowly raised yourself out of the seat. Though corporal punishment was no longer allowed in such facilities & care centers, you sure felt like you just had the whipping of your life.

            Exiting Dr. Frazer’s office, you found your way back to your room, ignoring any curious eyes or whispers as you passed by other patients. In the common area, you spotted Albert & Siena lounging on the couch. Albert met your eyes briefly before shaking his head at you & looking away. He was no longer your friend, & you didn’t blame him.

            In your room, you got dressed & applied what little make-up you were allowed to bring to the center. You feared facing your mother & that disappointed look in her eyes, but you were grateful your father wouldn’t be joining her. It wasn’t like you were hoping to see him any time soon either after what he suggested was happening between you & Dr. Mooney the last time he was here.

            After you finished getting ready, you decided to remain hidden in your room until Nurse Carney or another employee came looking for you. You were restless as you waited, watching the hour pass by. Your mother was surely there at that point & yet no one had come for you. You wondered if their meeting was to be one-on-one, & you would know your fate afterwards.

            It was only when another forty-five minutes passed after your mother’s expected arrival that a knock came on your door.

            “Come in.” You announced, though your voice was small.

            It was an assistant nurse who informed you that your mother was waiting for you in the lobby. Following the nurse, you were relieved that there were no familiar faces in the common area. Once in the lobby, you spotted your mother as she spoke heatedly on her cell phone. The nurse left you as you waited off to the side for you mother to get off the phone. She was likely speaking to your father, updating him on how you were no longer allowed treatment at Arrowhead.

            However, once she got off the phone & spotted you, she grinned & approached you before embracing you.

            “Oh, honey.” She smelled like rose water. You buried your face into her blazer as she held you. Tears unexpectedly wetted the collar of her jacket.

            “Mom, I’m sorry.” You lifted your head to look at her, “I’m so sorry.”

            “Baby.” She cupped your cheek before glancing around, “C’mon darling. We’re going out for lunch.”

            “What? What do you mean?”

            Your mother frowned then, “Not here. There’s a lot we must talk about.”

            Your mother was not a fan of Dr. Frazer; she made that abundantly clear as she drove the two of you to a nearby brunch spot.

            “What a cold man.” She had commented, “And how dare he suggest your removal because of a little outburst. Ya know, Steve Summers put his nephew up at Arrowhead, it’s how we learned about it, & that boy was a handful. The stories Steve told your father & I about how much trouble he caused at that facility, yet they kept him. And that doctor, if you can even call him that, has the audacity to want to have you removed? Over my dead body.”

            Your mother’s protectiveness made you smile for the first time in a long time. Now you wish you had been preset in their meeting to see her give Dr. Frazer the same no bullshit attitude he dished.

            “So, I’m staying?”

            “Of course!” Your mother shook her head, “It’s the best treatment center within 100 miles & I’ll be damned if we put somewhere less than that.”

            You felt conflicted at staying, but at least you wouldn’t embarrass your father further.

            Speaking of your dad, “How’d dad take it?”

            Your mother sighed, pursing her lips, “I haven’t told him. Won’t tell him.”

            This was shocking, & out of character. A million questions lied at the tip of your tongue, but your mother pulled into the restaurant. Once the two of you were seated, you were finally able to ask the first of many.

            “Why aren’t you telling dad?” You asked, uninterested in the food menu before you.

            “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother informed you. Her behaviour changed then, her poise transitioning from confident to worrisome.

            “Your father is going to trial in a couple weeks.”

            “What?!” She shushed you at your surprised reaction.

            “Honey, lower your voice.”

            Lowering your voice, you repeated the shock, “Trial for what?”

            She sighed, dropping her own menu on the table, “John is suing him.”

            Your heart sped up. His TA was suing him?

            “For wrongful termination.” Your mother shared further.

            You sputtered, “What? That’s fucking stupid.”

            “Language.” She reprimanded but ultimately nodded, “But I agree. Unfortunately, John knows what he’s doing. He’ll lose but he doesn’t care.”

            “If he’s going to lose then why is it going to trial?”

            Your mother peered at you then, her eyes sorrowful, “To get the attention of the university. When a case goes to trial any faculty involved must be suspended until the trial closes.”

            “He’s doing it to punish him…” Your voice softened.

            “Yes.” Your mother nodded, “He doesn’t care about winning any money otherwise he would’ve settled out of court. What he wants is to ruin your father’s name.”

            You collapsed against your seat, tears lining your vision, “This is all my fault.”

            “Oh, honey…” But she didn’t argue against your claim.

            “If I hadn’t…” You licked your dry lips, “Then dad would be fine.”

            The two of you sat in silence for some time while your mother ordered for the both of you. But once the food came, you hardly touched your plate as your mother picked at hers.

            “Fortunately,” your mother began, “it will be a closed trial. But…”

            You stared at her, “But what?”

            “Because your father fired John for, you know, your name & condition will be revealed.”

            “They can do that?”

            “You’re not a minor, honey. And having placed you into a recovery center, it shows that your father is aware of your… problems. He could be held accountable.”

            “Wait, so, John could win?”

            “It’s very unlikely.” Your mother reminded you, “Your father has a good set of lawyers defending his case.”

            “But you said…”

            “I know what I said.” The cracks in your mother’s tough exterior was beginning to show. She wasn’t telling you the full truth, that your father may actually lose the case, thus ultimately his career & reputation.

            “I can’t believe this happening.” And it was all your fault. If only you hadn’t approached John, just left him alone. Then none of this would be happening.

            “It’ll be okay. But that’s why I won’t be telling your father about yesterday. He already has enough going on.”

            “Yeah, I get it.” You whispered, shameful.

            Your mother got the check & once the two of you were in the car on the way back to the facility, you finally answered the question you knew she was avoiding thinking about.

            “What if he loses, Mom?”

            Your mother gripped your hand, shaking it in a reassuring manner. She smiled at you, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes, “He won’t.”

            But you weren’t so sure.

            After your mom dropped you off out front, Nurse Carney was waiting for you. She led you back inside. It was midday, lunch time. You had hardly eaten at the restaurant, but your appetite had disappeared with the information surrounding your father’s upcoming trial. Nurse Carney checked you in at the desk then dismissed you to head back to your common area. But your heart was racing, your head was full of noise. You needed to talk to someone. Now.

            Ignoring her, you instead went in the opposite direction of the youth wing & towards the doctor’s offices.

            “_____!” Nurse Carney hollered behind you. You sped up in your walk as you heard her exit the front office to follow after you.

            You had just made it to your destination, knocking rapidly on the door when Nurse Carney appeared next to you.

            “You are not following protocol.”

            “Fuck your protocol.” You rushed out, your breathing coming in shallowly.

            Then the door before you swung open & Dr. Mooney stood in surprise as his eyes glanced between you & Nurse Carney.

            “I’m sorry, Dr. Mooney, I’ll take her back to her room.”

            But Dr. Mooney frowned, looking at you, “Are you okay?”

            “No.” Tears skipped down your cheeks, “I really need you.”

            He took you in for a moment longer before nodding once, “It’s okay, Nurse Carney. I’ll see her back myself.”

            It was obvious that Nurse Carney didn’t agree but she wouldn’t argue.

            Dr. Mooney closed the door behind you as you stepped inside to stand in the middle of his office. Sobs racked your body as you finally broke down.

            “_____, what’s going on?”

            But you couldn’t talk. Not yet. Instead, you broke another protocol.

            You couldn’t think about Rafe’s intrusive words or Albert’s year old gossip. What you needed right then was the only person who had consistently shown care towards you in the last couple months. Spinning around, you hugged Dr. Mooney. You latched your arms together around his back & pressed your face into his chest. You didn’t care about the no contact policy. Because right then you didn’t view yourself as a patient or Dr. Mooney as your care provider. What you needed was the only friend you had in this hell hole.

            Dr. Mooney never returned the hug, but neither removed you. He let you cry against him. And for that you were thankful. However, after a few minutes & you had calmed down, he gently placed his hands on your shoulders & placed some distance between the two of you. He angled his head to meet your bleary eyes.

            “Talk to me.”

            You shook your head, “I can’t do this alone.”

            He frowned but nodded, “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. I promise.”

            And you knew it to be true. Dr. Mooney would never let you down, & that’s exactly what you needed.

a much longer part to i burn! i wanted to give you all a pretty lengthy update as i won't be able to update either of my rafe series for maybe another week as i will be going on vacation! so, always, please share your thoughts w me via comments, reblogs w reviews, or talking to me in the ask box. i love all the love ya'll send my way!

thank you for reading!

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A month ago I went to Amsterdam and visited all the filming locations for Ted Lasso‘s „Sunflowers“, so I figured I‘ll finally put something together here.

First of all, basically all the scenes involving the majority of the Richmond himbos were not shot on location - their epic discussion followed by pillow fight was filmed in an abandoned hotel in London. (Info per David Elsendoorn). The same would go for Ted & Beard‘s room. Scenes on the bus or outside it were also filmed in Richmond.

The only Greyhound who doesn‘t have his own larger plotline in the episode who was actually in Amsterdam was David Elsendoorn, because they did film the first scenes at Johan Cruijff (you know how to pronounce it now!) ArenA, the home of Ajax Amsterdam (which is also the one place I didn‘t have time to visit). They could have easily filmed that in London in a different stadium but I guess they didn‘t want to pass up the opportunity - and give David something to do on his home turf.

Edit: I visited 3 months later, so here‘s some pics from the ArenA, I couldn‘t find out which hallway they used/dressed up for the press interviews, but here‘s some shots from the stadium and the VIP lounge we see at the beginning.

So, first up is Roy & Jamie‘s adventure: Jamie takes him sightseeing against his will, and the first place they stop on is Magere Brug (Skinny Bridge). (They run up the street to that before.)

Edit thanks to @warriorhoneybee: Roy grabs Jamie’s wrist at Diamond Factory on Rokin and then tells him he can‘t ride a bike outside Lyppens Jeweler at Langebruugsteg.

They go around the corner to Oude Turfmarkt (which is what I took a picture of) for Jamie to teach him how. For Grandad!!!

The fucking windmill they see before they lovingly gaze into each other’s eyes is De Riekermolen at the Southern end of Amstelpark, where they also cycle. (It‘s actually realistic for them to do that, it would be about half an hour between those locations by bike).

Rebecca doesn‘t see the obvious bike lane (that doesn‘t actually exist there) and falls into the gracht at Raamgracht. Boaty McBoatface‘s houseboat is still there, they just had it dressed up a bit with plants and such when they filmed. (Unclear if anyone currently lives there). The interiors were shot in a studio.

Trent follows Colin to Prik night club (which was absolutely buzzing when I was there, I really want to go back).

And then they sit at the Homomonument, the Pink Triangle memorial at Westerkerk, having that tearjerker of a conversation, before returning to party. (It walked that distance at night, it‘s a beautiful stroll and less than 10 minutes). When I visited someone had left sunflowers. 🌻

Leslie & Will first go to Hotel Prins Hendrik in the Red Light district (and steps away from Amsterdam main station) where Chet Baker died. They then make their way to Jazz Café Alto, which is just down the road from where Boom Chicago used to be on Leidseplein. (It‘s about 30 mins on foot between those two locations so they could have walked or just taken the tram for a few stops. The interiors were done at a studio though).

Ted of course visits the studio-filmed fictional themed restaurant where he has a BBQ sauce induced, Corey Burton-narrated epiphany about triangles, but first he sees Vincent‘s „Sunflowers“ at Van Gogh Museum during Museumnacht (which btw would mean the episode is set first weekend of November). As you can tell they moved some things around, so at least currently the painting isn‘t hung on that beautiful blue wall anymore.

As a bonus, here is a picture of where Boom Chicago used to be when Jason Sudeikis, Brendan Hunt and Joe Kelly performed there - Brendan also used to live above the McDonald‘s on Leidseplein just steps away for a while. And the other picture is the current Boom Chicago on Rozengracht, definitely go enjoy a show there if you can.

Anyway thus concludeth my trip around Ted Lasso‘s Amsterdam. I visited for the Boom Chicago Comedy Festival and fell in love with the city, it was … magical / gezellig. I will never forget it, but then again, some people get Alzheimer’s.

[lecultofthemarvelous]

a listening practice / listening practiced.

i am unraveling my life. i can’t speak about it in abstractions, or in metaphors, or in any obscure language except the truth: i am unraveling my life.

apropos of everything and nothing about two months ago, i told my therapist: 

“i don’t know, i feel like the next part of my life is waiting for me on the other side of this invisible door but i have to make a decision about some fuzzy unknown thing just out of reach.”

note: she’s an unreliable narrator.

but this is as true as i can be trusted to be. so yes, allegedly some version of that was said and absolutely nothing hit me like a meteor. no epiphany, no obvious lesson, not a single fucking ex called and “forced my hand.” i just kept living. i kept getting on those planes, kept doing the work i do, kept having the same conversations i’m wont to have, going the places i’m wont to go, doing the things i’m wont to do. i asked zero further questions. i mean, i did go to therapy... but aside from that? i forgot i even asked the question or what a question even was.

why do people say ‘all of a sudden’? nothing of import ever happens all of a sudden. everything that ever happens is an accumulation of happenings, an accumulation of choices: turn left, go right, set down the cup on the floor, walk away, walk back, forget the cup was where you place it, trip over it, or don’t. remember, sit down without incident, and so on.

it could have started in november when i had my first-ever mediocre time in mexico city. or in october when i found out a tiny human was entering my orbit, as close to me as if i’d be birthing her myself (though i was doing no birthing nor did i know her assigned ‘gender’ at the time). or in september when i told my therapist cheap liquor was boring. or in september when my grandfather died. or in september when i fought with my mother. or in june when i caught covid. or in march when i ended yet another relationship. or in december when i got into said relationship. or in november when i fought with my sister. or in september when i fought with my ex who i sometimes call ‘the love of my life’ (again). or maybe instead in september when i tripped that very important time with my dearest friends. it could have been anything i have accumulated, said or unsaid, done or undone, broken or untouched. it could have been anything.

yet it just so happened that on this particular thanksgiving in this particular year, i decided on two incredibly innocuous things: i was going to volunteer that day and i was going to make a fucking chicken. and then on saturday, i didn’t drink for a first saturday in a long long time and that night i said quietly to no one but myself:

“i will not drink again until friday.”

and then when i did that, i decided to do it again the following week. and then another sunday in the aforementioned following week, i dreamt a dream of my ex who i sometimes call ‘the love of my life’ just days before i’m supposed to arrive in the city he might still live in. and then i sent an email to said ex that i didn’t know at the time would go unanswered. and then i went to visit a relatively new friend in said city, had the best time but also looked for said ex’s face in every place we went. and then i came back home and lost my mind. and by losing my mind i mean: i called said ex incessantly, sent goodbye emails, sent goodbye texts, listened to old voicemails where he said ‘i love you’ and it wasn’t past tense, read old emails, then sent apology emails for the goodbye emails, sent apology texts for the goodbye texts, etc. cringe, shudder, shake, you’ve said it now. being embarrassing didn’t make me lose my mind. soberly being embarrassing did. 

‘it could have been anything,’ she said. ‘what the fuck, tristen.’ she said, too.

it took me 17 years to see myself clearly. you’re so busy surviving—like really surviving, like hungry and thirsty and crying and battered, like ‘where’s the money coming from next’ surviving—that stillness seems like privilege and chaos seems like rest, and none of that seems at all backward to you. when it was quiet enough, it was easier to reckon with who i could be than who i actually was. it’s difficult to draw a straight line from that particular choice to the havoc i wreaked on myself and some others. but draw it i must. 

see? unraveling.

i think it has to be enough that i can say these things out loud now. that i sat on the couch on christmas day watching home alone (at home alone) in my christmas pajamas, crying like a baby when kevin said repeatedly:

“i’m not afraid anymore” 

i think it has to mean something when all i wanted to do that day and beyond is touch every single person who’s given me love in their own way with love of my own. it has to mean something when all i wanted to also do was uncomfortably face my choices, to identify the exact ways they touched other people and what they meant to me in the moment i made them. it has to mean something to say out loud for the first time in any honest way that i hurt my ex-boyfriend who i sometimes call ‘the love of my life’ a lot and that can be true and it can also be true that he hurt me. that i hurt my sister a lot and that can be true and is also true that she hurt me. that i hurt myself a lot and it can also be true that life hurt me first.  you win some you lose some. c’est la vie, according to my mother.

she has to get that tattoo removed stat, right?

i have no big things to say about sobriety because i am not sober. but... i am drinking less and finding myself in stillness i didn’t have to earn this time. and here i am with all my bad choices, my heartbreak, my missteps, my hurt feelings, my violences, my screaming, my yelling, my pain, all strewn around me and everyone else i have every fucked up or fucked with like a tragic bricolage and i haven’t died. in fact? i’ve come more and more alive. so it has to mean something that this particular sliver of truth exists outside of myself. it has to.

post-script: call it a thought experiment or call it... writing again. good for her.

[dovechim]

lonely hearts club (m)

➾ 11k

➾ summary: jeon jeongguk has annoying little brother energy™. you know this deep in your bones. wedding after wedding, you keep running into him at the goddamn singles’ table, and he just won’t leave you alone. until you start to wonder... is he your ticket out of the lonely hearts club? 

tdlr: enemies to lovers

➾ warnings: hate sex, public sex (in a photobooth lmao), impregnation role play, oral (f receiving), jk has intensely annoying energy, it gets unbearably cheesy towards the end

➾ a/n: wow, addie is back???? finally??? gosh, even I can’t believe it. please enjoy, and thank you for waiting :)

The first few times, it was lovely. Watching your friends find their partners and get married in holy matrimony, their faces filled with bliss as they walk down the aisle together towards their happily ever after. You tell yourself that you are truly happy for them, and you are. But you can’t deny that deep seated feeling of envy buried within you, and the sense of dread every time you receive a new wedding invitation.

Why’d all of your friends have to be so good at getting their shit together?

Which then begs the question, what are you actually doing here?

Other than celebrating your friend’s wedding, obviously. You crane your neck to look around the large, luxurious ballroom for any sign of Kim Seokjin and his husband, and you think you spot them at one of the tables up front.

You scan the attendees at your table surreptitiously. It goes without saying that anyone can see that this is the singles’ table, it’s obvious enough by the way no one talks to each other and how the host has made the painstaking arrangement to alternate the genders. You have no idea where this tradition of a singles’ table came from, and why you’re relegated to it at every single wedding you attend.

You sniff in indignation as you take a sip at the flat soda in your glass. For all they know, you could have a secret celebrity boyfriend hidden away somewhere. The both of you have decided to keep your relationship under wraps so as not to risk the wrath of the public, so that’s why you can’t bring him to events like this. There. Let that be your saving grace.

It’s embarrassing to be at the singles’ table at a wedding, even more embarrassing when you realise that the faces at the table come and go, all except for yours. In fact, you spot a few familiar faces integrated into other tables, drinking and laughing happily with their significant others by their sides, while you remain a permanent resident of the singles’ table.

This is your fifth wedding in as many months; and at this rate it seems like you’ll never graduate from the singles’ table.

A sudden movement interrupts your moment of drowning in self-pity, and you glance to the side only to realise that the empty seat beside you has been filled. All night long the empty seat had been mocking you, reminding you of what could have been a lovely night in with a few bottles of soju and some chicken, but now it presents you with a new contender to the singles’ table.

And God damn, you can feel the women at the table perk up at his presence, some of them shooting you envious looks because you happen to be seated next to him. The girl on his other side seems to be swooning already, but you staunchly refuse to react. Refuse to even look at his side profile.

Two singles matching up at the singles’ table is practically every host’s wet dream. So much so that you refuse to let it happen. No matter how good looking he is, you won’t let yourself stoop so low.

Are you bitter? Yes.

But are you willing to admit it? Most definitely not.

“No way- Jeon Jeongguk?” The gentleman on your other side stands with his arms spread in what can only be the bro code. “What are you doing here? God damn- I never thought the day would come when I meet Jeon Jeongguk at the singles’ table!”

Wait, why does that name sound so familiar? You can hear the smirk in the newcomer’s voice as he stands as well, and the two men embrace each other in a manner that involves a lot of back slapping and chest bumping.

It’s only then that you unwillingly catch a glance of his face, and immediately an unwanted thought occupies the front of your mind persistently. He is most definitely, without a doubt, the most eligible single man at your table right now.

Jeon Jeongguk looks like the kind of man who is aware that eyes are on him at any given moment and milks every single second of it to show off. His broad shoulders are the first thing that catch your attention, he fills out the jacket of his dark blue suit just right, and yet the tapering of his torso into an impossibly slim waist has you questioning if he’s even real. You stop yourself from going any lower.

His face is a whole other matter, a cocky smirk pasted onto his face, charming doe eyes that lock right onto yours as he sits back down.

“Well, for my first foray into the singles’ club, I can’t say I’m disappointed,” he lowers his voice so that only you can hear it.

Scandalized at how he’s already prepositioning you within minutes of meeting, you make the mistake of turning to face him, witnessing how he adjusts his suit jacket as he makes himself comfortable in his seat, spreading his muscled thighs under the banquet table.

“For someone who’s sole hobby is the gym, I’m surprised your vocabulary range is better than a five-year old’s,” you shoot back at him, immediately annoyed by his very existence itself.

“So you admit you think my body is nice?” He raises an eyebrow and leans into your personal space, causing you to cross your legs and angle your body away from him in response. “You aren’t wrong there, but I could give you a much better idea of what’s under these clothes.”

Your hand tightens around your glass, getting ready to swing your entire body and drench his stupid good looking face with flat, lukewarm soda, but a loud burst of laughter ruins what could have been a perfect moment of humiliation.

“Ah, _______! Jeongguk! I see you two have met!” Kim Seokjin, approaches with Kim Namjoon on his arm, and the two of them look like they are glowing with happiness. “It’s about time, I can’t believe you guys are finally here!”

Finally? What is he on about?

You stand and Seokjin gives you a warm hug, a kiss on the cheek and you immediately feel slightly better, and more than slightly guilty at almost having caused a scene at one of your closest friend’s wedding. Namjoon greets you with a bright smile as well, holding out his arms and embracing you tightly.

Having always been the more sensitive of the couple, Namjoon holds you at arm’s length for a moment. “You alright there?” Namjoon’s gaze wanders over to the table behind you, and it’s like an epiphany strikes him. “God, I’m sorry! I wanted to put you at the table with my parents, seeing as you’re already like a daughter to them, but Jin wanted you to have another chance at…”

“Love,” you grimace as you complete his sentence for him. “I’m used to it by now.”

Namjoon looks like he’s about to say something else, but then Seokjin gets your attention, his arm slung around Jeon Jeongguk’s neck.

“______, as I was saying, I can’t believe you guys only met now. Jeon Jeongguk, meet _____. The sole reason why I managed to graduate from university on time. And ______, meet Jeon Jeongguk, the reason why I almost couldn’t graduate on time.”

Jeongguk snickers and elbows his hyung in the ribs, and you stare in shock at their camaraderie. Seokjin takes in your frozen expression and gestures wildly to get his point across.

“Hello? Remember Jeon Jeongguk?” Seokjin waves his hand in front of your face. “He basically lived in our dorm for a year without even attending our school because he wanted to see what university was like. You always complained about him leaving his cereal bowls in the sink!”

No fucking way. That snot faced brat became… this?

“How you doing, _____?” Jeongguk has the audacity to wink at you. “I see you’ve grown up a little.”

You eye him up and down in shock. From what you remember, Jeon Jeongguk was a scrawny little kid who shadowed Seokjin everywhere, to classes and even to the washroom. He was just a wide-eyed high schooler who worshipped both Seokjin and Namjoon back then, and cowered at your very presence.

“I see you haven’t,” you reply coolly, inwardly praising yourself for thinking of a comeback that quickly. You will not let this stupid brat intimidate you with his looks. Just because he grew up a little and got some muscles doesn’t mean he isn’t the same person who begged to carry your books to class for you.

You remember how he basically lived as a parasite in your dorm that year, irritating the hell out of you with his messy living habits, puppy dog eyes and basically taking turns to follow you everywhere you go. Now the memories are coming back, and so are the teasing laughter from your friends who thought he was your cute little younger brother and doted on him every chance they got, not aware that he’s actually the devil incarnate.

“You guys are getting along right?” Seokjin grins from ear to ear, likely already more than tipsy. “My two bestest friends, and my husband, all in the same place. This calls for a toast!”

“We’re getting along amazingly, aren’t we, ______?” Jeongguk says with a sickening grin as he passes you a champagne flute. “In fact, she was just complimenting me on my workout routine, and I was about to tell her that I’d be more than glad to incorporate her into my home workout too-“

“Toast to the happy couple!” You immediately cut him off, feeling your cheeks burn at his insinuation, raising your glass and avoiding Jeongguk’s gaze. “Congratulations Mr Kims!”

The happy couple moves off, and in your wealth of experience, you know that the night is coming to an end, and so is the event that you dread. You start to gather your things just as everyone starts to rise from their seats to gather in the middle of the ballroom, where a space has been cleared out. Instead of making your way with the crowd, however, you go the opposite direction, ready to make the practiced and unnoticed slip away out into the night.

But this time, a hand on your wrist stops you. It’s Jeon Jeongguk, a slight frown on his handsome features.

“Hey, where are you going? They’re about to do the bouquet toss.”

You pry your arm out of his grasp. “I know.”

And without a single glance back, you slip out of the back entrance of the ballroom, unnoticed by all except one.

*

The next time you see Jeon Jeongguk, it’s at Kim Taehyung’s wedding.

It’s a lovely wedding, a little abstract for your tastes, but totally Taehyung’s style. Expensive paintings worth more than your entire lifetime’s earnings adorn the ballroom, the menu is Italian cuisine, and the wine is exquisite. Him and his blushing bride are gorgeous, the night is perfect, were it not for one tiny little…

“Nice dress, bet it’d look nicer on the floor of my bedroom, though,” Jeongguk eyes your navy blue halter dress that shows off your shoulders.

The two of you are once again reunited at the singles’ table, and the fact that he’s seated right next to you has you in a foul mood.

“Why don’t you just slither off back to whichever hole you came from?” You hiss at him, finishing your third glass of wine for the night. “I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing you again.”

“And leave you all sad and alone at this miserable singles’ table?” Jeongguk grins. “I don’t think so. In fact, I can’t imagine how you managed to survive all these weddings without me. Why do you even hate me that much?”

What a question indeed. There are a million and one reasons as to why you hate Jeon Jeongguk, number one being his cocky personality, number two being his unfair glow up, while you’re still stuck looking pretty much the same as you did back in the first year of uni, if not more tired and world-weary.

“Oh, I managed alright,” you say through gritted teeth. “Not that I’m curious or anything, and I’d hate to give off the impression that I care even one iota about your existence-“

“Don’t worry, you can ask anything about me and I’d be more than happy to indulge,” Jeongguk says with a maddening smile.

“… why don’t you just get a girlfriend and graduate from this sad little island of singles? It’s not like you don’t have a ton of girls falling at your feet everywhere you go,” you roll your eyes as you witness the girl on the other side of him leaning over so far to show off her cleavage that she nearly falls off her seat. “It should be so easy for you.”

“Why would I do that when it’s more fun to stay here and annoy you instead?” He grins, topping up your wine glass, and that’s the only reason why you hesitate from smacking him on the head. His arm lingers on the back of your chair in a manner far too intimate for your liking, but if you were to smack him it would mean you have to touch him, and that’s a definite no-no.

Today he’s wearing a crisp white dress shirt with the top three buttons undone, showing a hint of his toned chest. His jacket features a dark grey floral print that matches nicely with the abstract, artsy theme of the whole wedding.

You’re saved from having to reply when it’s time for the couple to cut the cake. In true Taehyung fashion, he smears a dab of wedding cake on his bride’s cheek, causing her to gasp in shock and everyone around them to coo in adoration. Photographers are snapping away, capturing the perfect moment.

“I’d want to get married on my birthday too,” Jeongguk remarks off handedly beside you as the applause dies down. “You know it’s Taehyung’s birthday today, right?”

“Of course I do, what kind of friend would I be?” You roll your eyes at him. “And in response to your other statement: I don’t care.”

But Jeongguk continues as if you haven’t said a word. “I bet they’ll be spending lots of time in their birthday suits tonight.”

“Ew!” You can’t help but react as you turn and smack his arm. Just the thought of imagining Taehyung, your best friend since childhood, naked and doing… those things…

Jeongguk grins salaciously. “First contact: success.”

Still trying to stave off all the unwelcome images of Taehyung, you frown at him in confusion. “What?”

“It’s a rule I personally go by. No matter how interested I am in a girl, I always keep my physical boundaries until she breaks the touch barrier by initiating physical contact with me first.”

Hmm, who’d have thought the bastard would have a sense of morals?

“Well, you’re completely wrong because I’m not interested in you at all,” you turn your head away from him. “And if you think that one touch from a girl entitles you to do all kinds of lewd things, then you’re sorely mistaken on what it means to be a gentleman.”

“Who said anything about lewd?” He leans in, and you smell the sweetness of the tiramisu on his breath that is oh so tantalizing. “I think you’re the one who brought it up first.”

Snagged, you reach for your wine glass to take another chug, hoping that it might explain away the redness on your cheeks.

“You know, most people become more relaxed the more they drink, however with you I think it’s the opposite.” Jeongguk comments, swirling his wine in his glass casually as he studies your side profile.

You can’t help but get a little flustered at his attention. You can see the envious gazes of the other women at the singles’ table, and once again you are reminded of how very eligible Jeon Jeongguk is, especially amongst the rest of the males at the table.

“What would a guy like me have to do for company for his lonely heart?” Jeongguk turns his sparkling doe eyes on you, and at the same time, the lights in the ballroom dim as Taehyung directs everyone’s attention towards the ceiling.

While everyone looks up at the now bedazzled ballroom ceiling, amazed by the projection of multicoloured galaxies and shooting stars, you find yourself unable to look away from Jeon Jeongguk.

Then, while the lights are still off and everyone’s attention elsewhere, he leans in closer until you can feel his breath on your cheek. When you don’t make a move to push him away, Jeon Jeongguk places a hand on your chin and coaxes you those last few inches towards his lips, and you find that you don’t exactly hate the feeling of kissing this obnoxious brat.

His lips are soft, and the kiss is more demure than you’d expected it to be, judging from his fondness for dirty jokes and double entendres. You taste a slight bitterness from the coffee powder in the tiramisu on his tongue. He takes it slow, exploring every inch of your mouth with his, and it’s obvious that he enjoys kissing.

Jeongguk draws away just before the lights come back on. Suddenly feeling very exposed, you jerk away from him in a panic, just as the emcee calls everyone together for the bouquet toss and hightail your way out of the ballroom.

* “Why do you always leave before the bouquet toss?”  

“God, you have such annoying little brother energy,” you sigh, taking your eyes off Jung Hoseok’s grinning face as he dances and sings on stage, with his bride standing off to the side.

“Do you still think of me like that?” Jeon Jeongguk looks a little taken aback at this statement, though he recovers quickly. “My sources tell me that we aren’t far apart enough in age for you to be calling me that.”

“I don’t know who your sources are, but they’re wrong,” you shoot back at him. “Wait, are you stalking me now?”

“I hardly think asking around constitutes stalking,” Jeongguk says defensively. “And is that all you think of me? An annoying little brother?”

“What else could you be to me?” You cover a yawn with one hand as one of Jung Hoseok’s relatives comes on stage to make a speech.

“I highly doubt you kiss your younger brother like that,” Jeongguk smirks, one hand brushing your hair off your shoulder to expose your collarbone. “Unless…”

“I don’t,” you hiss at him, half annoyed at him, and half at yourself for letting him wind you up like this again. “You’re like… an annoying little punk who thinks he’s a man.”

To avoid any further conversation with him, you get up and head for one of the photobooths hired for the occasion, fully intending on getting a photo to prove that you’d been here, say your congratulations to the happy couple, and get out of here as soon as possible.

Jung Hoseok has chosen an outdoor wedding, and the venue is nothing short of spectacular. It’s a starry night, Shakespearean theme, and the décor is absolutely gorgeous. Having attended ballroom weddings for the past few months, this is most certainly a breath of fresh air, but you’re a little worried about how you’re going to get out of here, seeing as it’s quite literally a field in the middle of nowhere.

You’d better leave after this photo and try and call an Uber outside.

However, much to your consternation, Jeon Jeongguk follows you into an empty photobooth, planting himself right next to you on the tiny little loveseat, with his solid thigh against yours. He draws the curtains shut, and since the photobooth is automatically set to go off on a timer, it means that the two of you are currently very much alone in a confined space.

Inwardly you curse Jung Hoseok for having even the photobooths built for two.

“What are you doing? Get your own photobooth!” You growl at him.

“Not until you tell me why you’re running away from me,” he persists, crowding you on the small seat so that you’re nearly on top of him.

From this close up, you feel your resolve weakening, he might be a jerk but he’s a damn good looking one.

“I can feel you want me.” Jeongguk says with his lips pressed against your ear. “Don’t fucking deny it.”

Oh fuck it. It might be the folly of those earlier shots at the bar that makes you grab his collar and pull him into you, your lips crashing together in a clash of tongue and teeth. Unlike last time, the kiss is anything but gentle, and your touches are anything but demure as the two of you grope each other like animals in the small confined space.

“I fucking hate your cocky little mouth,” you hiss at him, biting down hard on his lower lip and eliciting a delicious little whine from the back of his throat.

Jeongguk responds by grabbing your waist and pushing you onto the seat, just as he swivels to end up on his knees. He’s tall enough so that he’s able to kiss down your neck, sucking and leaving behind bruises on the way.

“mhm… show you what this cocky little mouth can do,” his muffled voice sounds more like a threat, growing bigger by the minute as he kisses his way down your throat, to your collarbone as he pulls down the sweetheart neckline of your dress to mark the top of your breasts with his lips and teeth.

There is a moment of hesitation as his fingers pause at the top of your glittery black dress, just shy of exposing your bra. You answer his unasked question for him by pushing it down yourself. Once your breasts are exposed to his reverent gaze, he doesn’t waste any time in cupping them with his large hands, rolling your nipples expertly with both hands, pinching it every so often to make you wince.

“I hate your stupid, gorgeous hands,” you gasp at a particularly hard pinch. “And I hate your fingers.”

It’s those very fingers that are currently travelling up your bare thighs, your dress having ridden up from sitting down. You can feel the cool metal of his rings on your heated skin. Jeongguk doesn’t respond to your declarations of hate for him, instead he’s far too interested in exploring what lies between your thighs, in finding out whether the noises you make are the same as what he’s been imagining all these nights with just his hand for company.

You hate how he leaves you feeling, desperate for his touch and just to feel him everywhere. Hate how exposed he makes you feel, dress and bra pushed down inside a photobooth in the middle of a wedding.

“Could someone with little brother energy make you feel like this?”

With a surge of strength you hadn’t expected, Jeon Jeongguk pulls you to the edge of your seat so that your thighs are draped on his shoulders, legs spread to his liking. He has a front row view of how your panties are already soaked. Pushing the saturated material to the side, his tongue explores your folds eagerly, lapping up every drop of you and teasing the hell out of your clit.

It’s all you can do to keep silent, other than cursing him and his stupid mouth over and over again as he eats you out. His fingers dig bruises into your inner thighs as his lips start to suckle at the most sensitive part of your body, tongue flicking in and out. This for sure isn’t his first rodeo, for he adds his fingers into the mix deftly. You can feel yourself completely drenching his face, and a part of you would be embarrassed had you not already thrown your pride away when you first let Jeon Jeongguk kiss you with that filthy mouth.

“Oh my god,” your arms flail out in search of something to anchor yourself with and find purchase on his hair. Taking pleasure in messing up his perfectly styled hair, you urge him not to stop, both with desperate tugs on his silky black locks, and egging him on with every insult you can think of. “Don’t fucking stop, I swear to God…”

“Like my cocky mouth that much?” Jeongguk grins as he takes a breather, resorting to his slim fingers as he glides them in and out of your drenched cunt. “How about my fingers? Or my cock?”

“Shut up and make me cum,” you dig your nails into his scalp, making him wince a little. “Your fingers are probably the only part of you that doesn’t disappoint.”

His eyes darken just a smidge before he re-doubles his efforts, flattening his tongue against your clit and licking until you are near tears. With a final thrust of his fingers inside you, he sends you over the edge, relishing how you tighten deliciously around him as your body tenses in orgasm.

Jeon Jeongguk lazily thrusts his fingers in and out to help you ride out your high, pulling out to lick your essence from his fingers when you push him away.

“Well, doesn’t seem like you hated that,” he grins in a self-satisfied way that immediately irks you once more.

You close your legs and pull your dress to cover yourself, ignoring the fact that your thighs are still shaking from that orgasm. “I guess you aren’t that bad at going down on someone, which is a blessing considering that disappointment you’re packing in your pants.”

The dark gaze that you caught a glimpse of earlier comes back into view again, and just as your standing up, straightening your dress and gathering your wits about you, Jeon Jeongguk slides his arm around your waist, pulling you against his body in with a sudden movement.

“Does this feel disappointing to you?”

You can feel him pressed up against you, the considerable bulge right against the swell of your backside has your words caught in your throat, and you can’t bring yourself to refute his claim.

Jeongguk gives a low chuckle that sends shivers down your spine. “Didn’t think so. But don’t worry. I won’t fuck you here. Only good girls deserve my cock.”

He finally pulls away, and the space in between the two of you allows you to breathe and get your senses back once more. Throwing a disinterested glance over your shoulder, you bend over to collect the pictures that have dropped into the little slot on the machine, well aware of his eyes jumping from the curve of your ass just exposed to your chest still marked with the imprint of his lips.

You toss him one strip of the pictures, along with a parting shot.

“Who said I wanted to be your good girl?”

*

If you thought that weddings were bad, that was because you hadn’t experienced baby showers yet.

It hadn’t even been more than a month since you attended Kim Taehyung’s wedding, but the baby shower cum announcement invitation shows up in your mail anyway. You highly suspect that this wasn’t the result of their wedding night, but you all knew that Taehyung was the most eager out of all of you to start a family.

Right, back to why baby showers are even worse than weddings.

There isn’t even a hint of a singles’ table here at baby showers. Everyone here is happily married at least, some of them are pregnant, but either way they are more taken than your sad, single self.

“_____! So glad you could come!” Taehyung approaches you with what looks like a diaper stuck onto the front of his suit. “Ah, sorry about this, I was playing pin the diaper on the diarrhea…”

It’s all you can do to stop yourself from grimacing as you intercept his full-on bear hug with a side embrace instead. You can see Namjoon and Seokjin off to one side, laughing and proudly showing off scan pictures of their surrogate baby. Jung Hoseok and his wife are grinning happily just behind them, tanned and blissful having just returned from their honeymoon trip, and judging from the way that his wife has one hand protectively on her lower belly…

“Did you manage to get a drink yet?” Taehyung grins, an arm around his suddenly very pregnant wife. You have no idea how she managed to appear svelte and slim at her wedding just a few months ago.

“Ah, no, I was wondering if there was anything… stronger,” you grin weakly, holding up a glass of orange juice.

“No there isn’t,” Taehyung says with an embarrassed frown, reaching to scratch his neck. “I thought since this would be mostly couples who were kind of starting a family themselves…”

You force a smile onto your face at the confirmation that there isn’t a single drop of alcohol at this god forsaken baby shower. Surely the rules don’t apply to Namjoon and Seokjin??

“It’s fine,” you wave away Taehyung’s embarrassment. “Congratulations, by the way! Do we know if it’s a girl or boy yet?”

“Not yet,” Taehyung’s wife giggles, exchanging a look with her husband. “We want it to be a secret.”

You smile awkwardly as husband and wife exchange a loving kiss, but glance at your watch to see how much time has passed. Off handedly your thoughts suddenly stray to one Jeon Jeongguk, and you wonder if he’s here.

You have to say that having him present at one of these events really makes them a lot more tolerable, and you are feeling the effects of his absence, especially so without alcohol. It’s not that you like him, god forbid, but it’s just… he’s become somewhat like your partner in crime at events like this. He may be annoying, but his stupid jokes and handsome face helps pass the time quicker.

You suddenly find yourself wishing Jeon Jeongguk were here.

“Miss me?”

And the devil speaks. You whirl around to find Jeon Jeongguk dressed down in a pair of ripped black jeans and a white shirt with a casual blazer thrown over, hair grown out a lot longer than the last time you saw him. It frames his face in slight waves, giving him a far more carefree look than the last time you saw him, sharply dressed in a suit with his hair pushed back off his face. He looks even more annoying with his long, unkempt hair like this, and you have a great urge to just tangle your fingers in it and pull till he cries.

“No,” you say just to spite him. By now, Taehyung and his wife have wandered off to another group, so you feel safe enough to say your next words. “This party was a bore. Just looking for a semblance of intelligent life.”

“And alas, I come when called,” Jeongguk smirks at his double entendre, placing a hand on the small of your back to lead you to a small corner of the garden party. His touch sends shivers down your spine, brings your mind back to the last thing you did with him.

“I’m afraid I’m still looking,” you retort without any real heat in your voice. Bickering with him has become normal now, it’s comfortable with him like this.

Jeongguk feigns being stabbed in the heart, then takes a swig of his drink. Judging from his reaction, that is most certainly not plain soda, and you grab his hand, bringing his glass to your lips for a taste.

Definitely not soda.

“Where’d you get this from?” You hiss, feeling like a druggie on withdrawal.

Jeongguk shrugs. “Brought my own. Y’know, since this is supposed to be a baby shower and all, I cam prepared. You’d obviously come expecting virgin drinks.” He takes out a cleverly concealed flask from his blazer.

You help yourself by uncapping it and tipping it into your half full drink, sighing when you take a sip and the alcohol burns on the way down. Jeongguk watches you with an amused smirk, thinking how there isn’t any other girl who gets him just like you do.

“What?” You catch him staring at you, finishing your drink with one more gulp.

“I was thinking…” Jeongguk starts with a slow drawl.

“Oh wow, that’s a first for you-“

“… why haven’t you jumped me yet? You and I both know I’m the most eligible man at the singles’ table. Being here only strengthens my argument, I’m the most eligible single man here.” Jeongguk is enjoying riling you up, likes watching you spit insults at him and exchange banter like there’s no tomorrow. Just for good measure, he throws in a last jab. “Judging by your age too, I don’t think you have much time if you want to pop out at least three of my children.”

For a moment your eyes narrow in your annoyance. “I have plenty of time left, thank you very much. I’m still on the right side of 25-“

“-not for much longer,” Jeongguk helpfully throws in, gleefully delighting in the way you glare daggers at him.

“- and who said I want three of your children?” You cross your arms, stopping just short of stamping your foot. “Maybe I’ll go and be Namjoon and Seokjin’s surrogate!”

“Be my guest, I’d very much like to see how you look when you’re swollen and pregnant,” Jeongguk lowers his voice as he crowds your body with his, and you realise how much taller and broader he is. “Preferably if the baby is mine too.”

“W-why’d I want a baby who’ll grow up to be as insufferable as you?” You know your comeback is weak, but you find your mental faculties really at a limit especially when he’s this close. “He’d have the mentality of a five-year-old for his entire life.”

Jeongguk gently takes your empty glass from your hand and sets it down on a nearby server’s tray. Taking your hand, he leads you into Taehyung’s house, where much of it is empty as compared to the garden party outside.

“He’ll at least be as handsome as me,” Jeongguk offers with a hopeful grin, closing the door behind him to ensure no one accidentally wanders in. “So, do I still have that annoying little brother energy after what happened last time?”

At this point you’ve gone too far with him to straight up deny it. “Fine,” you admit. “You might be half decent at oral. But my theory that you have small dick energy still stands. You’re just a little brat who thinks with his dick and is used to girls dropping their panties for him-“

“I seem to recall you spreading your legs for me just as easily,” he hums as he traces a finger down your covered thighs, slightly displeased at your choice to wear a longer dress today.

“You’re just asking for it, aren’t you,” Jeongguk tsks under his breath, his tattooed fingers coming to rest on the front buttons of your modest midi dress. “Pretending to be all demure and modest like a good girl when in actual fact you’re a slut who lets random men eat her out in photobooths.”

“You’re not just any random-“ the words slip from your mouth before you realise it, and Jeongguk looks up sharply at you.

“What was that, babygirl?”

You cover up your own slip by bursting into slightly exaggerated laughter at his pet name of choice. “Babygirl? Oh my god. You’re the kind of guy who likes to be called ‘daddy’ in bed, aren’t you?”

Feeling slightly attacked, Jeon Jeongguk’s sky high confidence dips a little, and you spot the tell-tale signs of his eyes widening in shock, giving you a glimpse of his younger, more vulnerable side.

“Wh-what’s wrong with ‘daddy’? It’s a classic.”

“Only for those who actually fit the bill,” you say, placing your hand on his cheek and trying your best to ignore the sharpness of his jawline. “For your information, I only use ‘daddy’ when it comes to real men. Not stupid young punks like you.”

His eyes flicker with anger, jaw clenching even tighter so that a muscle jumps in his cheek, and the sight of it sets off a thrill in your lower belly, your heart racing in your chest, and it makes you feel even bolder.

He attempts to take back control of the situation by grabbing your waist with both hands, pushing you up against the wall and supporting your entire weight as if it’s nothing. Jeon Jeongguk obviously likes to show off his strength, and while you are indeed impressed, it’s not like you’ll ever show it, not unless you want to stroke his already inflated ego.

You loop your arms around his neck to keep your balance, feeling his hands on your ass and thighs and his bulge right against your centre. Taking advantage of your proximity, you lean in to suck right under his ear, leaving behind a red mark.

“’Daddy’ is only for men with big dick energy,” you whisper, breath hot against his neck. You draw back to take in his reaction, and he does that thing with his tongue against his cheek that tells you he’s really pissed off.

“Shut up,” he growls, one hand on the front of your dress as he tears the buttons open, exposing your bra in one movement. “I’ll fucking show you what ‘Daddy’ is.”

Another rip and your bra falls open, exposing your breasts to him as he harshly bites and marks you, enough to replace the fading marks from last time. While doing this he also grinds into you, letting you feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“I’m gonna fuck you right up against this wall, with all our friends just outside,” Jeongguk breathes into your neck, taking one hand off your ass to push your dress up. “Gonna rip your panties off so you’ll have to go home with no underwear like the whore you are.”

“Do it, if it makes you feel more like a man,” you urge him on, and that bastard really does rip your underwear, tucking it into his pocket for later like the pervert he is.

He ignores your jibes at him to push your body weight against the wall with his own, one hand supporting you as he slides two fingers against your core to find out how wet you are. They come away soaking, and it boosts his confidence further as he licks his fingers.

“Could anyone but a man make you this wet? Even without touching you?” He smirks, using one of his thighs of steel to support you better as he starts to stroke your clit with his thumb, plunging his fingers into your tight cunt to stretch you out.

“Still so fucking tight for me, creaming all over my fingers like a dirty girl,” his words are getting filthier and filthier the more you egg him on, and you are indeed coming all over his fingers embarrassingly quick. You bite into his shoulder to conceal your moans, and he hisses a few curses under his breath.

“You’ll be calling me Daddy by the time I’m through with you,” Jeongguk casts you a dark look as he struggles with the zipper on his jeans with one hand.

You throw your head back with a laugh. “Go ahead, baby boy.”

The nickname only infuriates him more, and he spanks your clit once, making you dig your fingernails into his arms. Already overstimulated from the first orgasm, Jeongguk doesn’t let up as he continues to rub your clit until you weaken in his arms, only then does he feel like he’s got the upper hand once more.

You have to say that you’re impressed with his strength so far and you help him out by unbuckling his belt, tossing it to the side and lowering the zipper on his jeans. He pushes it, along with his underwear, down to his knees, and while he’s doing that you take the opportunity to push his shirt up, exposing his rock hard abs that make you want to grind against them.

“Like what you see?” Jeongguk is smirking, he knows all his hours at the gym pays off well.

“I’ve seen better,” you say with a sniff, but you’re lying and the both of you know that from the way you can’t keep your hands off his chest and abs.

Jeongguk pushes his underwear off, and his cock slaps against his belly, the head an angry red and fully erect. At the first sight of it, you’re tongue tied. While some men are blessed in girth and some in length but not both, he seems to have the best of both worlds, and his entire length spans almost three quarters of your forearm.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” He presses a suckling kiss against your collarbone, pushing his sticky cock against your inner thighs.

He’s left with a satisfied smirk when you really do have nothing to say, instead reaching down to stroke him. The feeling of your small hand on his cock makes him swear under his breath, sweat dripping off his forehead as he thrusts forward into your grasp involuntarily.

“Have protection?” You remember at the last minute, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him from thrusting into you bare.

“I got a vasectomy,” Jeongguk answers, and you nearly choke on your saliva.

“Wha- whe- I-“

“I knew it! You want to have my babies,” Jeongguk snickers at your reaction, but not for long when you grip him tighter and he groans. “I’m kidding. Don’t worry, I’m as fertile as a bull in the china shop.”

“That’s not how the saying goes- you know what, just shut up and tell me if you have any condoms. You’re a lot more attractive when you aren’t talking.”

“In my blazer pocket,” he answers, and you reach for it, finding a foil packet and tearing it open, rolling it over his cock.

You note how the packet says extra-large, and in your mind, you can already imagine his cocky little self walking up to the pharmacy and fucking asking for the extra larges even though there is stock on the shelf.

Jeon Jeongguk is just that kind of cocky little bastard.

“Big dicks aren’t everything, Jeon,” you say at last, guiding him towards your centre. “Not if you cum after the first three strokes.”

“I’ll fucking show you what stamina is,” Jeongguk growls as he surges forward into that delicious, warm heat, your pussy tightening around him despite having been stretched out earlier. You cry out against his shoulder as he fucks into you, having mercy enough to give you shallow thrusts at first before building up to sheath his whole length into you.

“Haven’t cum yet? I’m surprised,” you mock him, tightening your core around him and feeling his steady rhythm falter.

“Fuck you,” he grits his teeth, using the power in his thighs to fuck up into you.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, but you’re gonna cum too soon aren’t you,” you coo at him, petting his cheek and babying him, all of which you know by now he absolutely hates. “Cute little Jungkookie’s all grown up.”

“Don’t fucking call me cute when I’m pounding my cock inside you,” Jeongguk leans forward to bite your lower lip in a harsh, punishing kiss, effectively shutting you up as he pistons his cock in and out at an unforgiveable pace.

Since you came once already, you thought your second orgasm would be way far off, but you’re proven wrong especially when Jeongguk buries his cock deep, limiting his thrusts so that he’s just grinding his cock against you, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit just right. He then shifts so that his arms slide under both your thighs, opening you up even more for him as he fucks you against the wall with his incredible strength, and you feel yourself tightening around him again.

When he smirks against your neck you realized you must have called out his name when you came. But in this position you can’t do much other than wrap your arms around his neck as he gives you the pounding of your life.

“Ready to call me daddy yet?” Jeongguk pants against your neck, leaving his cock buried so deep that he can feel your cervix.

“No fucking way,” you refuse to relent.

“Then how ‘bout you make me a daddy instead?” He proposes, pulling out suddenly to the tip and slamming back in, making you whine his name again. “That’s right baby girl, I saw all your envious looks at all the couples out there.”

“Wha-? I…”

“Don’t fucking deny it. You’d look so much better swollen and pregnant than all of those women out there. You know you want to, especially when I started teasing you about getting too old. You want a baby, you want mybaby fucked into you.”

You don’t know what kind of roleplay this is, but all you know is that you get even wetter around his cock, and all you want is for him to fuck you against this wall until you forget your own name and you can’t walk tomorrow.

“Fuck… keep going. Tell- tell me more,” you pant against his neck for more as Jeongguk starts fucking his cock into your pussy once more, every thrust ending so deep that it taps your womb.

“Gonna fuck a baby into you at our friend’s baby shower,” Jeongguk grips your thighs hard. “You want that? Hm? Then next it will be our turn to have a baby shower. Though I think we’ll have it before our wedding, where everyone will see you round and swollen with my baby.”

“Wh-who fucking said I wanted to marry you-?” You can barely get your words out of your mouth as you dig your fingernails into his shoulders. There’s something about how primal his thrusts feel when he talks about fucking a baby into you, and you want more.

“I can give you a baby right now and then you’ll have one more reason to marry a cocky little bastard like me,” Jeongguk smirks against your neck as he lets one of your legs drop to rub your clit, and you squeeze around him again, crying out into his neck.

Your thighs are quivering, cunt clenching around his still pounding cock as Jeongguk grunts. You feel his cock twitching, and even though all of this is make believe- the condom wrapper on the floor reassuring you… you wouldn’t exactly hate it if it were all real. Being with Jeon Jeongguk… doesn’t sound that bad after all.

Feeling him close to his orgasm, you wrap your arms around him tighter, legs around his waist as you feel his desperation soar.

“Give it to me. Your baby, I want it,” you whisper against his cheek, not knowing how much of it is just for the heat of the moment, and how much of it isn’t. All you know is you love his reaction to your words, the way his thrusts stutter in rhythm and he lets out a deep groan.

He moans your name in the most beautiful way as he spills his load, continuing to thrust to ride out his orgasm, his hips pinning you against the wall as his hands encircle your waist.

The both of you remain like that for a moment, his harsh breaths against your neck as you find yourself stroking his back and leaning your cheek against his broad shoulders. Gingerly, Jeongguk puts you down so that your feet are once more touching firm ground, and he slips out of you in the process.

It’s slightly awkward now that everything is over, and Jeongguk turns away, pulling the used condom off his softening cock. While his back is turned, you start to straighten your clothing, realizing that the bastard has really ripped all your underwear and even your dress too.

Cursing him loudly enough so that he hears it too, you stuff your now useless bra into your bag, trying the best you can to button your light blue lace midi dress back together again and failing miserably. You cross your arms as you glare at his broad back, until Jeongguk feels the weight of your glare and turns around.

He disposes of the used condom in the trash, and has the gall to check you out, particularly lingering on your half exposed chest.

“Quite a number you did on my arms… this’ll last for a while definitely-“

“You fucking ripped my dress! How the hell am I supposed to get out of here?”

Jeongguk can’t keep that stupid smile off his face as he shrugs out of his blazer, coming towards you and draping it across your shoulders so that it covers you adequately. Despite being pissed off at him, you can’t help but notice how much bigger he is- his shoulders stretch as he assures his blazer is securely on you and the concentration furrows his brow as he buttons it up.

“There. Like that. I think you look much better, to be honest.” He takes a step back, smirking in satisfaction before he turns you around with one arm around your shoulders. “Look. I am a gentleman. I’ll even walk you out so that we can call a cab together.”

“Are you crazy?” You shrug his arm off violently. “We can’t go out like this together! Everyone will know we just fucked!”

“Well, we just did…” Jeongguk has a stupid grin on his face as he states the obvious, and it makes you want to smack him.

“You stay in here for five minutes then come out. Look like you just came in here to piss or something,” you shove his chest in an attempt to get him to stay, trying to ignore how firm his pecs feel under your touch, and how he barely even moves.

Jeongguk has an amused smile on his face as he watches you arrange your hair, check your makeup for any smudges before gingerly stepping outside, all while oblivious to that fact that you wearing his blazer is the biggest telltale of all.

Truly, he’s never met a girl like you.

*

Jeon Jeongguk’s goal is to get you to stay for the bouquet toss just this one time.

More specifically, he wants to find out why you always leave before it happens. Personally, it’s his favourite part, aside from the free flow booze and food and cake. He particularly likes seeing the women’s faces when they spot him, and then see how desperate they are to catch the bouquet later on especially when he’s in the crowd.

But today he’s more interested in seeing one particular person’s face when the bouquet goes sailing through the air.

Jeongguk rubs his hands together in glee with a devious smile on his face, peeking around the corner to find his best friend Eun Woo and his bride at the center stage, taking pictures with guests.

“Bro! So glad you came!” Eun Woo greets him with a wide grin that reaches his eyes, spreading his arms wide to embrace Jeongguk.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jeongguk grins back, slapping his friend on the back a few times before pulling away. “You remembered my request, right?”

Eun Woo clasps Jeongguk’s hand cordially. “Of course man. Just point her out to me and we’re good to go.”

Jeongguk steps back to let Eun Woo go back to his bride and entertaining his guests, all the while keeping a close eye on the door. You hadn’t showed up for the wedding ceremony nor the dinner that followed, and Jeongguk knows from sources that you’d been invited to this wedding too. He fidgets anxiously, wondering when, or if, you’ll show up.

After what seems like forever, you slip in quietly, alone as always, wearing that same light blue midi dress that he had the pleasure of ripping off your body.

You weave through the crowd in order to get to the front, wanting to get it over and done as quickly as possible. When you catch a glimpse of Cha Eun Woo dressed to the nines, smiling and laughing with his bride, you feel a small little pang in your chest, considering that you had a crush on him once.

In fact, that was the main reason why you decided to only show up at the end. When you received the invitation, it wasn’t like you were shocked or anything because you knew the two of them had been dating for a while, but the same old blues just crept up on you, and you don’t think you can bring yourself to sit through another wedding and watch another couple find their happy ending, when all you wanted was to find it yourself.

So here you are, forcing a smile on your face as Eun Woo springs to his feet once he sees you, engulfing you into a hug for old times’ sake.

“I almost thought you weren’t coming,” he says with a pout, and your heart almost melts.

Eun Woo just has this way of speaking that makes anyone feel incredibly important to him. It’s the way his voice softens to an intimate tone and his eyes focus on you entirely. He holds you at an arm’s length to really look at you.

“Long time no see,” you laugh, extricating yourself from his embrace, all too aware of his bride standing beside him looking a little out of place. “Congratulations, brat. I’m so happy for you.”

Eun Woo grins, a heart-achingly handsome smile directed just at you, and damn if it doesn’t make you feel special even when you’re here attending his fucking wedding. Your moment of regret is interrupted by a slight shove to your back that puts some distance between you and Eun Woo, and you turn your head in annoyance to see who it could possibly be.

Jeon Jeongguk sure knows how to ruin a moment, for he steps in between you and Eun Woo, bro hugging him generally making a lot of noise. Before you can quickly slip back into the crowd, however, Jeongguk grabs your arm, tucking it into the crook of his elbow.

“Did you meet ______ yet?” Jeongguk says, winding an arm around your shoulders tight to stop you from escaping. Slippery little minx you are.

Eun Woo hesitates for a second, and some kind of unspoken communication goes on between the two men, and you roll your eyes, wanting to just leave now that you’ve shown your face.

“______?” He says your name with such surprise in his voice, and his eyes widen, as if seeing you for the first time, taking in Jeongguk’s arm around you. Then he coughs awkwardly and tries to play it off smoothly. “Dude, we go way back since uni, my partner in crime when it comes to project work,” Eun Woo shoots you a fond little grin, and you feel your heart flip.

Jeongguk catches this little interaction and frowns.  “Wait, you guys… know each other that well?”

“Yeah. We even-“ you cut yourself off, realizing that this isn’t the best time to bring it up.

“Oh, you can say it, Eun Woo told me and it’s all cool,” his bride grins, casually looping an arm around her husband. “I know you guys used to date for a while.”

You can feel Jeongguk’s grip tightening slightly around your shoulders. “Um… wow. Okay. That was… uh, unexpected.”

You shoot him a sharp glance, wondering why he’s being so weird and saying such weird things and trying to figure out if he’s trying to be funny and embarrass the both of you. But Jeon Jeongguk seems genuinely flustered, the tips of his ears growing red.

“Anyway, uh, congrats you two,” you clear your throat and give them a slightly subdued smile. “Wishing you guys happiness always.”

Eun Woo reaches out to grasp your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Thanks, ______. I really appreciate it. You guys, stay till the end of the event, ‘kay? We have something really special planned.”

The two of them are soon dragged away by another group of friends, leaving you and Jeon Jeongguk alone in the crowd of strangers.

“Okay, what was that?” Jeongguk demands, folding his arms across his chest.

You’re still staring somewhat wistfully as Eun Woo and his wife as they wrap their arms around each other. “What? It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? You were practically making love eyes towards him!” Jeongguk points out indignantly.

You roll your eyes and start to head for the refreshment table, figuring you should at least get something to eat and drink while here. “It’s all in the past. We used to date for a while, that’s it. Maybe there’s still some lingering feelings for him. Maybe I’m feeling a little bitter while attending my crush’s wedding. What’s it to you?”

Picking up a flute of champagne, you down it in one gulp, feeling much better once the alcohol hits your system.

Feeling the urge to outdo his best friend, Jeongguk steals a chocolate covered strawberry off your plate and pops it into his mouth, making sure his lips wrap around the strawberry. He sucks it for a moment, making eye contact with you to capture your attention before he bites it off, closing his eyes as the sweetness bursts on his tongue. Jeongguk has to make you forget about your long lost crush.

“Stop it!” You hiss at him, at the way he licks his chocolate covered fingers obscenely.

“What?” Jeongguk shoots back, eyes wide and innocent. “I’m not doing anything!”

It’s ironic, the way practically everyone here is dressed for a black tie event, and here Jeon Jeongguk is, bow tie and suit, licking chocolate off his fingers like a five year old. But strangely, rather than irritate you, it’s kind of… endearing.

You like how he’s not afraid to make a fool out of himself even at events where everyone seems to be doing their best to pretend they’re sophisticated adults. He makes boring, stuffy old events like this more fun, and you realise… you want him in your life.

“You’re an idiot,” you say without any real heat in your voice, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“I see you’re wearing the same dress,” Jeongguk comments with a glance down your body, and you fold your arms protectively.

“Yes, because washing machines are a thing,” you roll your eyes at him. “Sorry I don’t earn enough to debut with a spanking new dress every time one of our friends decide to get hitched.”

“God, you’re so defensive,” Jeongguk attempts to pry one of your arms loose. “I was just thinking that perhaps I didn’t do a good enough job of tearing off your body. How’d you even get it to be in one piece again?” Jeongguk watches the way red blooms across your cheeks. “So, am I still little brother energy?”

Judging from the way the cocky little bastard grins, he already knows the answer, but he just wants to hear you say it.

“No… but you’re far from daddy,” you add the last bit just to stop his ego from inflating so much that he can’t walk out the door later. Doing him a favour, really. You take your plate of cakes and pastries and find a seat somewhere in the ballroom, in a nice and secluded corner where no one will notice you stuffing your face.

Jeon Jeongguk follows you, grabbing more glasses of champagne along the way and handing them to you once you’re seated. “You said you had feelings for Eun Woo.”

“Yeah. Key word, had,” you clarify. “Past tense.”

“And me?” Jeongguk holds his breath in anticipation. “Do you… have feelings for me?”

You let the plate rest in your lap for a moment, considering how to best word your emotions. As much as you want to deny it and say he’s just an annoying little punk… it’s gone too far for you to do that. “I guess… yeah. I do. Don’t get me wrong though, you’re still annoying as fuck and you irritate the hell out of me sometimes, but I guess somewhere along the way… I stopped minding it so much and even started to miss it when you weren’t there to annoy me. It’s not just because we fucked or anything like that, but… having you beside me at all those weddings made me see how happy everyone around me was, only because… you kind of made me happy to begin with. Attending all those weddings by myself and seeing everyone get their happily ever after… I was kind of lonely, but now I’m not anymore.”

Embarrassed at your sudden show of emotions, you glance away, nearly spilling your glass in the process, but Jeongguk saves you by taking it away from you. An insatiable grin is on his face. “So… you’re saying I make you happy by annoying you?”

“And your dick is pretty nice too,” you grumble under your breath, in an attempt to distract him from how raw your emotions are feeling.

“I know,” Jeongguk steals a monster bite of your cake without asking. In the midst of his chews he sneaks a kiss on your cheek so that he leaves some cream behind. “I like annoying you too. I want to keep annoying you for the rest of my life.”

Just when you’re about to smack him for being so cheesy and disgusting, a voice comes over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our lovely bride and groom will now be preparing for the bouquet toss and the garter throw. If you would kindly gather, please.”

Jeongguk takes your plate and puts it aside before grabbing your hand securely in his, but there’s no need to, because you’re not going anywhere without him at your side. There was a time where you would have rather died than witness the bouquet toss, see the bundle of flowers being thrown into the air and hoping against hope that you’ll be lucky enough to catch it… but this time, with Jeon Jeongguk by your side, all you feel is warm and content, like you’ll be happy as long as he’s with you.

Jeongguk guides the both of you to a prime spot at the front, where you see Eun Woo’s bride seated in a chair, and Eun Woo on his knees before her. Realising you’re about to witness what’s called a garter toss, your eyes widen in shock when you see Eun Woo dive under his bride’s skirt. The crowd reacts with giggles and wolf whistles as Eun Woo seems to struggle a little, but a few minutes later he emerges, hair ruffled, but victorious with a lacy band between his teeth.

“We’re so gonna do that at our wedding,” Jeongguk murmurs under his breath with a squeeze of your hand.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself hmm? I never said I’d marry you,” you reply with a half-smile.

Eun Woo stands up, holding his wife’s garter high in one hand before he extends his other hand towards her, and together they turn their backs to face the crowd. You can see his wife’s beautiful bouquet of pastel peonies, tiger lilies and baby’s breath, held over her head.

The crowd is holding their breath with anticipation, and you can feel the people around you jostle slightly in their eagerness. You see Eun Woo lean down to whisper something to his wife, and she giggles, nodding in return before casting a glance backwards at the crowd behind her.

Eun Woo does the same, and his eyes lock onto yours before shifting slightly to beside you. Then he turns his back, and with a count of one, two and three, husband and wife toss their respective items high into the air.

For the first time, you see the bouquet sailing in the air towards you, and it’s as if everything is in slow motion. The crowd around you disappears, miraculously no one is pushing or shoving against you, and… could it be? The silk wrapped bouquet looks like it’s actually going to… this is impossible. The chances are so slim, there are so many people here…

And yet, your arms move of their own accord, the bouquet lands in your grasp, and you smell the sweetness of the flowers immediately as the sheer size of the entire silk wrapped bundle blocks your vision entirely.

Then, time unfreezes and sound filters back in. People around you are cheering and clapping, they’ve given you some space now. You start to shy at the attention, lowering the bouquet and half-panicking over what Jeon Jeongguk will think- will he take this as a sign that you’re a psycho who wants to marry him even though it’s this soon? What if he’s scared off by this?

But as you lower your bouquet, you realise that Jeon Jeongguk isn’t empty handed either, he’s holding a lacy garment in his hand, grinning from ear to ear with that annoying little smirk of his that tells you this went exactly as he planned.

Welcome to the lonely hearts club: table for two, please.

[sebbybooks]

Wreck My Daydream

Part Two

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

18+

Tagged🎄

@wayward-mikaelson

Cataglottism

(n.) kissing with tongue

I’m already wet and Sebastian barely even touched me.

I hardly gave myself a moment to be ashamed or even stir in the crass words I was using even if I had only thought them. Like a diary I suppose there was no need to lie to myself considering it was one hundred percent true. I, Nellie Lennox, was unabashedly met with unending desires that washed away my trepidations that led up to this moment.

In its place I felt this newfound sense of possibilities that I wasn’t actually making an ass out of myself with my sudden confession of feelings for Sebastian. In my defense I didn’t just wake up one morning after having some epiphany as to why I wanted to be with him. The thought of us together made itself at home in the back of my mind.

Almost like a what if. . .

However, I couldn’t help but be terrified of all the ways it could go wrong. What if I had made things weird between us forcing us apart? Life would be a bitter existence if Sebastian wasn’t around in some capacity. For the longest time I tried to find him in different relationships. It is a messed up philosophy, but it almost worked. Whenever things would get too serious it nearly terrified me. I was their someday and they were my maybe. I owed this last relationship that is still so freshly cut more than that.

I owed myself that.

On the unique and rare chance I somehow got lost in a very realistic maladaptive daydream, I’m pretty certain Sebastian wants this too. Just thinking about what he had told me seconds ago made my heartbeat drum to a dizzy rhythm. Imagining myself getting fucked to the beat of it was a completely different type of sensation.

Retraining my focus on the now I could see it in Sebastian’s face all the wheels going around in his head. Confusion? Uncertainty? Regret?

“You don’t get to do that.” I tell him. I felt like I was going to climb out of my own skin if he left me suspended in the silence for a second longer. Sebastian tipped his face closer to mine, our lips gingerly brushing against each other. Perhaps he was feeling ambivalent in regards of his feelings for me? After all this was sprung on him in the middle of the night.

Sebastian shook his head as if he was at war with himself. “I want to.” His voice was strained and dangerously low, like something was causing him utter misery being this close, yet not knowing exactly when to pull away.

“Then why don’t you.” I dared him.

I was growing impatient with this slow burn we had somehow started. I wanted to play with this fire. If I got burned in the end by his touch then so be it. At least I would forever be marked with a reminder of knowing that I at least went after something I wanted with no apology. I wanted to see how far he was willingly to go.

Sebastian removed his hand from the security of being wrapped around me. I feigned a disappointed sigh at the lack of contact. My entire body must have been on autopilot , because I didn’t recognize the position I was in. I practically sat in his lap with one leg wrapped around him and the other one mindlessly dangling over the bed. Of course the mind reader that Sebastian was naturally grabbed ahold of the side of my thigh and wrapped it around his back.

It wasn’t like I was naive to sex or never had my fair share of romantic conquest. Regardless of my experiences I still felt like a gigantic ball of nerves. The way he stared down at me with a heated look in his eyes as if he wanted to posses every inch of me. Hell, I felt like I could come undone from that alone.

The hand that was planted on my back slowly drifted downward trailing the curve of my backside gripping my ass through my thinly silk hunter green shorts that matched the top. Earlier I had berated myself for wearing scantly clad pajamas to bed. Now I am thanking my lucky stars I opted out of the option of wearing a red Christmas onesie that had polar bears wearing scarfs around their necks. They were ones my mother insisted the whole family wear.

If I had I probably would not have been able to feel his erection that was restrained in his sweatpants. Trying to situate myself closer I rocked into him slightly, massaging myself on him. My ears didn’t miss the subtle groan Sebastian let out from the feel of my weight pressing further into him.

His silence wasn’t lost on me and he still hadn’t answered my question so I did it again. I wanted him to say something. My nervousness abated at this point. I twined my arms around his neck, grinding myself against him again and again. All the while Sebastian watched my every movement with a hint of a star struck look in his eyes. The feeling was certainly mutual I was even shocking myself at my behavior.

“Nellie,” Sebastian finally says, voice husky. He usually only ever calls me by my nickname so I was more than sure that he was not fully himself.

“I’m a big girl Sebastian I can handle whatever you need to say.” I tell him, holding in my breath.

“Alright,” he said with uncertainty. “You and me, this, it’s not a good idea.” His tone was barely audible and even more so he sounded hurt. Everything in me froze.

“And why is that?” I asked him more confused than ever. Suddenly feeling absolutely self conscious as I over analyzed every intimate word I just shared with him. I was even more horrified by the fact that I was dry humping my best friend.

He let out a darkly laugh. “It’s pretty damn obvious Nells.” Sebastian says rather ominously.

“...It’s not actually.” For someone that wants nothing out of this, Sebastian was holding on to me like an anchor and I on the other hand just wanted to get away and sink.

Admittedly, I was losing this game of tug a war. There was only so much I was willing to endure even I had my limits. “You’re giving me whiplash Sebastian .” I tell him honestly, “ I’m not like those other girls you go for that are satisfied with you just dangling yourself in front of them like a piece of cake that I can’t have. I meant what I said when I told you I didn’t say it just to hear you say the same.” My voice could only rise so high in pitch.

I definitely didn’t want to wake up the upstairs guest that would love nothing more than to recap this conversation over breakfast. Then like an unexpected bolt of lighting startling you from a distance, Sebastian kissed me.

Sebastian

I am a selfish bastard.

My mind fell quiet when I looked at her. I wanted to swim in the serenity and peacefulness that was this smart, vibrant, sexy, and uniqueness this woman possessed. I only wondered even in the darkness could Nellie see my eyes as plainly as I can see hers. If so could she see the shame reflecting in them? I could feel the nagging weight of my conscience siting on both of my shoulders, arguing back and forth over what I should and shouldn’t do. It was kind of ironic that the devil in my ear insisted that I give in to the angel in my lap.

God knows I waited for her and that I would keep waiting if I had to in this lifetime or the next. It was always going to be Nellie for me. I wanted to tell her all of this, but the longer I held on to this slice of heaven I was given during this random hour. I also knew that this moment was fleeting. I basked in the way she looked at me, the way she held on to me like I was an object of virtue. I also got a sample of what it would be like to lose her the second she began to slip away on her own accord. So, I did what any poor fool would do in my position. I kissed her.

It wasn’t exactly suave or how I imagined it would go. My mouth sort of crushed against her unmoving lips in a rushed and unskilled manner. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing, I certainly could do a hell of a lot better than this. An yet, it was still like I predicted it would be, filled with pure unadulterated pleasure. Nellie’s lips were sweet and warm, exactly how I imagined forbidden fruit to taste like.

A perfect mixture of firm and softness that drove me wild. She flattened her hands on my bare chest as if to brace herself. Nellie pushed herself away, but her face was still so close to me. She didn’t speak and neither could I. I forced myself to look up at her and hoped that she could see I would do everything in my power to earn her forgiveness. That it was a mistake I will make right somehow.

“Nell,” I let out an exasperated breath. “ I have a need for you that goes deeper than just lust and I know that it will never truly be sated. The killer thing is I’m already at risk of losing you before I even had you.”

Nellie stared hazily up at me.“You already have me.” She whispered, our lips still grazing. Those four simple words set off a firework in me. This time when I kissed her our mouths came together like we needed to feed off of each other’s oxygen in order to survive. I’d suffer if I didn’t have it.

My mouth was greedy for hers, and I could imagine she felt the same. The moment I felt her lips slightly part open to let me in, less than a second our tongues slid together in a torrid and sensually slow pace. We kissed like a couple of eager teenagers. My heart threatened to leap from my chest when the tip of Nell’s tongue moved across my bottom lip. She tastes like gingerbread , mixed with some other divine flavor that I can only assume is Nellie. She arched herself closer into my chest and I could feel the points of her hardened nipples through her top. I seized the opportunity to press her body close because I needed more.

I wanted to feel the heat of her soft skin on mine. She returned her arms back around my neck tightly holding me in place as she angled her head kissing me back with the same ferocity. Deeply, and oh so thoroughly by the way she sucked on my tongue. I had a rough grip on her ass keeping Nellie steady as she straddled me. I was so damn hard for her. If my dick could get even harder it was bound to. Nellie did that thing again where she grinds down on my erection and I cursed at myself to not combust. I grabbed ahold of her hips guiding her to move faster, harder.

I kept telling myself to savor her, fucking take my time with this moment. I couldn’t just rip those tiny little shorts off and sink myself into her over and over until we’ve both had enough. But even then I would always need more of her. I wasn't a sentimental man, with Nellie I at least wanted to try. I wanted my first night with Nell to be a little less spontaneous than this. It wasn’t like I came prepared for festivities filled with endless fucks. Plus the added fact I couldn’t let things get too carried away especially since she still didn’t know what I have done.

Yeah, I am a very selfish bastard.

I didn’t want this to end. I wanted my mouth to explore every single part of Nellie. I wanted the taste of her to live on my tongue. I wanted to go as far as she and my consciousness would allow me.

“I need to touch you.” I panted, between every nip and kiss I left on the delicate area of skin under her jaw.

“You’re already touching me.” She says with a soft laugh, which was a melody to my ears. I was but at the same time I wasn’t. I needed to rid Nellie of any barrier that prevented me from branding her skin with my touch.

“This…off.” I tug gently on the bottom of her tank top before returning my hands to rest on her thighs, caressing them as I sucked on her neck for dear life. Going back and forth between grazing her neck with my teeth then licking over the area to soothe any imprint I’ve left.

Nellie crisscrossed her arms reaching for the hem of her top gracefully pulling it over her head. She purposely fell backwards onto the mattress aiming her shirt at my face. For as long as I’ve known Nell she was never one to be shy in her own skin.

“Imagine how unsexy that would have been if I hit my head on the headboard.”

“As long as you didn’t hurt yourself I would have just pretended that I didn’t see a thing.” I teased.

“Ah, to think they wonder where all of the good men have gone.” Nell scrunched up her nose pretending to be lost in critical thought.

I cock my head to the side. “Mm-hmm. Are you mocking me?”

“What if I am?”Her plump wet lips spread into a smile.

It was miracle I caught a word of what she said to me. I swallowed a groan as my eyes drift over the area of her body that was naked from the waist up. Nellie was clearly a stolen painting from the Louvre that I had no intention of returning. All I could do was stare.

With her legs still draped around me, my hands slide up the curve of her torso passing her ribs. I sensed that she was watching me, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off of her just yet. The pads of my fingers traced over to her breast and my mouth practically watered at the sight of them. She was ethereal.

“Don’t suddenly go mute on me Sebastian.” She let out a shaky breath.

I’ve heard her say my name a thousand times. Hearing her say it in this state created a feeling of warmth that filled my chest. I could only begin to imagine the different ways I wanted to hear her call out my name. My gift, my best friend, my Nellie. Those last words had a sting to them even as I thought them. Deep down I knew that was never going to be true.

I eased all the way down my tongue traveling around the dip of her navel. Creating a path up the center of her abdomen. I knew that Nell was extremely ticklish. The slightest form of contact would automatically turn her into a ninja. From the way she was pressing herself back into the mattress I knew she was trying her hardest not to flee. Of course I found it rather enticing so I made sure to spend extra time over the areas of her exposed skin I knew to be the most sensitive. Brushing the tip of my nose between her breast my mouth finally latched on to what I’ve been waiting for.

“So fucking beautiful.” I say as I graze my mouth over the stiff peak of her nipple. I was in awe over the ability that they simultaneously could feel hard yet felt extremely soft. I dragged the tip of my tongue around the bud of it in a languid movement before sucking it in deep. I loved listening to the sounds she made while I sucked and devoured as much as I could fit into my mouth. I wanted to hear a symphony of the noises that escaped from Nellie.

Going for one after the other not wanting to miss out on either. Nellie kept a limp hand pressed into my hair keeping me close as if I dared to stop.

Writhing underneath me Nellie gasped,“Touch me.”

Now she understood what I meant. My own body felt betrayed by my decision. I literally ached from pain and pleasure. Truthfully I wouldn’t opt for a better scenario than this. I would be more than gratified with giving Nellie an orgasm or two.

Still leaving featherlight kisses across her chest. With one hand I reach down and brushed along the dip of Nellie’s hip, then began to tug away at her shorts. To my surprise she was bare underneath. This was a new and uncharted territory we were crossing.

Tell me to stop, say that this is just the wrong time, tell me we would never work. Those words never escaped me, the sound of the goddamn doorbell intervened for her. My movements hesitated then shortly I picked up on inaudible chattering out in the hall. Nellie turned her head in the direction towards the door which I hoped like hell was locked. “Maybe we should go see what’s going on.” Her eyes widened.

“Or we could stay here and not shame the fact that I was two seconds away from wrapping your legs around my face while I tasted the slickness between your thighs. ” Nellie released a ragged breath and I meant every word.

To my dissatisfaction we were composed in under three minutes. I felt a strange sense of comfort and pride seeing that ever so often I’d catch Nellie looking in my direction smiling like she had some big secret she was bursting to tell. Which only made me feel like an even bigger asshole. The walk downstairs was surprisingly noisy. Someone had plugged the Christmas tree back up and there was a chilly wind breaking in as the front door came to an immediate shut.

Nellie’s parents were both moving around in a fast pace trying to find new spots to put a couple of suitcases. I had to swallow down a chuckle at the sight of their bold choice of pajamas. Nellie had already beaten me to the bottom of the staircase just as I rounded the corner of the spiral stairs.

“Cousin!” Vanessa squealed rushing over towards Nellie, who excitedly embraced her the same. They exchanged a few excitable words to each other that I tuned out. I was busy focusing on the six foot son of a bitch with a puppy dog expression on his face standing awkwardly behind them.

“Now you know Nells Bells you can’t have Christmas without good ole St. Nicholas can you?” She winked at a stone faced Nellie who just looked straight ahead at her ex boyfriend Nick. “I hope it’s okay I brought him over with me. I saw him at the airport dozed off in a chair.” Vanessa whispered as she leaned into Nell, like she just earned a gold star. Soon as Vanessa’s wild dark brown eyes caught ahold me I knew my bubble was about to pop.

“Something told me I was off the naughty list this year.” Vanessa bit at her glossed up lips and made a beeline towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She smelled like an overtly sweet perfume that tortured my sinuses. “Did you forget how to work a phone or what? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days. I miss you.” She cooed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nellie watching the two of us. This was my punishment.

[spiltscribbles]

Im so excited!!!! Here’s a little “It’s always been you. You and only you.” sprinkled in with Green-Eyed Epiphany

~Notes: OMFG bubby!!!! You are so beyond adorable! Thank you So SO much for the sweetness!! I really hope you like this XS and fingers crossed  this fits the promptXS <3 <3 <3

.-

Prompt Smash Game  |  Send Me A Prompt💜   |  A Reblog Is Like A Huge, Warm Hug!!!

.-

~R: my mom’s working the night shift at the clinic👀👀

~S: Kinky😏

~S: I can be there in 15

~R: make it 20 and get Chinese x

~S: sometimes I think ur j using me for the food

~R: and bring henny😈

.-

It’s seventeen minutes since Remus sent the last text when the front door of his modest ranch house begins to thump with a familiar wrapping that’s three quick knocks followed by two slower ones, and he has to wrestle down the eager grin from his face when he swings it open to find one of his closest friends standing at the threshold in that customary  weathered, leather jacket that he found two summers ago when Remus had taken him thrifting for the first time, and an impish sort of smirk that definitely would look ridiculous on anyone else, but only makes Sirius all the more maddeningly attractive. 

“What took so long?” Remus asks mildly, pulling him indoors by the sleeve and gesturing for him to set the goods on the kitchen counter once they cross the small foyer.

“You wound me, Lupin.” Sirius retorts, quick-silver eyes flashing before he pins him against the island and puts his hands on either side of his waistline with more gentleness than Remus would’ve expected before they began this whole sorted affair— Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word for it?

It’s not an affair, or tryst, or carrying on or whatever the fuck else Lily says when she’s teetering on the wrong edge of tipsy and thinks it’s her right to call Remus out on his bullshit— on his stupid, beyond obvious crush he’s been fostering for one of his closest friends since junior high.

It’s none of those things— It’s not nearly as dramatic.

It’s just— Just that yes, Remus has been harboring a tiny infatuation  for Sirius ever since that first day of the seventh grade  when he had moved to this tiny, coastal town after his parents divorce. But how could he have not? Sirius is hilarious, and a genius, and so gorgeous that sometimes it feels like his insides are twisting up whenever he glances over at him. And on that first day, he had just caught Remus’s eyes from across the library shelves before classes begun, and smiled in that uniquely electric way of his, and asked if Remus could put slime in a very specific locker, (Snape’s), for a very specific reason, (Because he kept following Lily around like a creep), on account to no one suspecting the new kid. And yeah— Remus was lost on him an embarrassing amount from then on. 

Sure, it can be regarded as kinda pathetic on Remus’s end— kindling this nest of emotions so close to the chest— but also it’s not as if he’s been lovestruck by his crush, like it’s some sort of waterlogged scarf he’s got dragging him down. His attraction towards Sirius is like a soft melody that’s swelling in the backdrop of all their interactions, nothing overwhelming— not a flood plane, not yet at least. It’s warm, and it’s familiar, and it’s persistent like a flutter of a humming bird’s wings.  And Remus doesn’t mind pining over someone as fantastical as Sirius Fucking Black.

Graciously, in some strike of incredible luck, Sirius never caught on to Remus’s silly feelings, not until that night when they were watching an old movie in Remus’s basement while James and Lily were celebrating an entire year together— save for all their sudden stops and just as speedy starts— and Peter was visiting his grandmother in Tampa Bay. It was the first time they had been alone together since Remus broke up with Caradoc for the final time, and Sirius just looked so fucking good in that casual, white v-neck and his skinny jeans that make him look like some echo of James Dean on his best day. And Remus isn’t sure who exactly moved forwards first, or how the fuck Meg Ryan wandering the Seattle streets was some sort of aphrodisiac, or why Sirius— who could have any guy he would ever want— was actually humoring him, but one second they’re lying down on the sofa— Remus caged between Sirius’s expanse and the cushions behind them— and the next he’s tasting PBR on Sirius’s lips, and has got a fist full of his dark hair, and is thrilling at the feeling of Sirius’s thigh between his legs. And yeah— it just happened like those sort of things are want to do, and by the end of it they were sticky and breathless and diffident in ways they never been around one another, in ways Remus reckons Sirius has never been around anyone.

But the next weekend, when Sirius’s latest sorta— but not really— boyfriend had canceled on their dinner plans, Sirius wandered over to Remus’s bedroom window and it was another tumbling of frenzied hands and loosen buckles and thrusting hips. And then it just became an easy release— a sort of poetry, an understanding in all but name.

And that’s fine. They don’t have to talk about it. Remus knows that Sirius isn’t the type to settle down with a partner, to go bowling for a date, or texting countless messages that amount to nothing at all at the end of the conversation, or putting up with another dude’s parents taking photos of them before leaving to prom or homecoming or whatever the fuck else. And Remus is sorta sick of the idea of love, of trying so hard only to end up heartbroken and eating a gallon of Chubby Bunny in his favorite sweats and cursing John Hughes for pretending Hollywood romances can happen to ordinary high schoolers. 

So yeah— This thing they’ve fallen into with each other is good. They’re friends— best friends— and they have fun and they’re apparently really fucking good in bed together, and Sirius never looks at Remus with pity when he spots him gazing at his profile absentmindedly, and he doesn’t mind when Remus traces invisible designs against his skin when they’re soaking in the after glow, and he never treats him  any different. Sirius still slings his arm around Remus’s shoulders when they walk down the halls, and he still buys him his favorite chocolates when he feels poorly, and he still faces Dorcas's disapproving wrath when he drags Remus out of the library to have a little mischief— whether it’s smoking a blunt in the abandoned skatepark in town or playing some stupid prank on those assholes in their year. 

For all intent and purposes, they still behave the same they’ve always acted around one another, but just with the miraculous addition of mind-blowing and dulcetly ductile sex.

This is good, this is fun, this is completely untethered from the bull shit of romance.

And if Remus mouths against the juncture of Sirius’s neck a little too intensely— trying to pry off the memory of the hickey Sirius had been sporting after spending the weekend with Gideon Prewett— Well no one has to be any the wiser, and by the sound of Sirius’s hitched breaths, he seems not to mind even slightly.

“Except my apology?” Remus asks, more coy than he ordinarily acts as he drops his arms around Sirius’s neck, and leans on the balls of his feet to whisper against his temple.

“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” Sirius retorts, labored as all get out, kneading his fingers into Remus’s ass that’s only covered by the thin layer of his plaid pajama bottoms. “You are going to have to do a lot more for me to forgive the lip.”

Remus laughs in a stammering sort of way as Sirius tugs him along, walking backwards to his room that he’s become incredibly intimate with since the first time they did this three months ago. 

“Sirius, the spring rolls— they’re gross if we have to heat them up again.”

“I’ll postmate us knew ones,” Sirius insists, covering Remus’s mouth with his own with fervor. “C’mon babe, do not tease me like this.”

Sirius must’ve caught his mistake, because he suddenly goes as red as Remus feels— The pet name was to close for comfort considering their strictly friends with benefits nature, but Remus is already half hard, and he really does not want to end this, so with a sly wink, he returns to nipping at Sirius’s jawline, rutting against him in a very unambiguous way. “Fine, if you really don’t think you’ll need the nourishment for your stamina?”

The words have their intended effect, and Sirius makes a small growl deep in his throat before practically tearing off Remus’s shirt, and dipping beneath the waistline of his pants, scooping him up and racing to the bed.

And they get lost in one another beneath the pale glow of Remus’s lamplight and the moon spilling through the window, relearning each others every patch of skin for minutes on end that wax and wane like the delta of ocean waves, unspooling into something tangible and tantalizing with every kiss punctuated with teeth that Sirius trails across Remus’s collarbone, and the way Remus palms greedy hands up and down Sirius’s back until he gets the hint and undresses.

“Well come on, you’re not an invalid, Lupin.” Sirius jeers and Remus chuckles as he follows suit until they’re both finally, blessedly nude. And with an easy assurance of them having done this more than a dozen times now, Remus crawls into his lap and kisses him straight on the mouth, preening how Sirius moans against him— canting up wantonly and grabbing at his hips with a sort of intensity that will probably leave bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers, and Remus absolutely adores the idea of that, feels something hot and needy and desperate unfurl in his gut as he presses their mouths more forcefully together, going buzzed when he gets to relish in the sensation of their tongues running against one another, and the taste of the ridges on the roof of Sirius’s mouth, and the slide of the soft skin of his inner cheek— gasping when Sirius pulls away abruptly, panting an almost reverent, “Mother of God, Remus,” and tackles him flat on his back before they commence, with the addition of both their hard,  leaking cocks thrusting against one another and Sirius’s hand in Remus’s hair pulling that bit more forcefully while his other one roams the dips and planes of his side— skirting against the divots of his stomach muscle before he wraps it around the pair of them and begins to pull in earnest, to the rhythm that Remus swears was strung from the heavens above.

“Oh— Oh, yeah— Sirius,” Remus breathes out in a haggard sort of way, words that he refuses to ever call a mewl even if they’re stretched out and crackle with emotion.

“Yes—, just say that again,” Sirius practically demands, his mouth completely covering his ear in a wet, hot heat— his teeth scraping against the soft shell. “Remus, baby, just say my name, tell me you want it.”

And God, Remus is feeling so heady— like he’s floating and he couldn’t possibly come back down— that he probably would’ve listened to anything Sirius asked of him, especially if he does that thing again, when he squeezes the slick length of them with a tad more force than they usually play at. “Sirius, Sirius. Sirius, please, I’m close,” Remus shrills in an unsteady staccato— his normally smooth tenner going pitchy and pleading, and he can feel his toes curling, can feel the eminent release coming— What he does not expect is to feel something poking at his entrance, didn’t expect to be struck dumb by the sensation of the tip of Sirius’s large, dry finger poking right there, right against the fluttering hole, while he’s still pumping them in tandem, and the second it hooks inside Remus goes a startling sort of static , sees blasts of white blotching his vision and his head thrown back and his dick spirting out heavily against Sirius’s deliciously defined torso.

And he’s just breathing heavily now, during the come down, can barely make out anything  through the heavy weight around him, the one  cushioning his head— but he does graciously feel Sirius’s cock fucking into his own hand against Remus’s thigh and then idly the feeling of his come splattering him, but then after that he can just barely hear the distant padding of feed against floorboards, followed by a wet washcloth being dabbed against his skin. So when he finally forces himself to focus, he sees Sirius cleaning himself off, wrapping it into the pair of joggers Remus was wearing earlier and tosses it to the corner of the room. 

“Rude,” he scolds with no heat, shuffling closer to him when Sirius lies down besides him once more and circles an arm around his torso.

“THat’s what you get when you’re acting like a lazy fuck,” Sirius counters, smug as all get out while he threads a hand in Remus’s hair.

“Hmm, didn’t see that in the papers recently. Is it a new law?”

“Yeah, actually just past on the senate floor.”

“Interesting… Well considering that only one of us has a senator for a father, I really have to ask to see the power-point you shared with him to get this bill through the stalemate,” Remus’s head bounces against Sirius’s chest from the force of his laughter at the barb.

“Oh, stuff it, Lupin.”

Hiding his smile into Sirius’s skin, Remus does as told, and they both just lie there, as if everything’s gone suspended just for the pair of them, just so Remus can count out the beats of Sirius’s heart pulsing against his sternum, and can feel the way their legs tie into one another, and can feel Sirius mouthing against his temple, blowing his curls with every exhale. 

And Remus thinks that he’d do anything to remember this exact moment for every single day from here on out.

But then the quiet is abruptly and permanently punctured by the sound of his phone chirping, and he has to breathe in deeply before separating from the warmth of Sirius, and fishes down for the device that’s still crammed into the side of his bed from where he had hidden it after that initial text.

“Is Dearborn still on your ass to try again?” Sirius asks, a bit stilted.

Remus wonders if he’s just imagining the tension twisted in the question, but reasons that Sirius’s never been Caradoc’s biggest fan, so he just shrugs it off— really doesn’t want to get into some stupid argument about his asshole of an ex when he’s still feeling so content. “Nah, ’s James. Still trying to force me to go to the homecoming dance with you guys.”

“Oh,” Sirius retorts, lips pinched while watching Remus redress. “You should go, Marls is pregaming and you know she always gets the good shit.”

Remus shakes his head while puttering over to find a new pair of sweats and a sweater. “Nah, just not feeling it this year— Erm, you’re taking Gid I assume.” He’s not sure why he asks it, supposes he’s always a glutton for some pain and shitty feelings to inspire his playlists habit, but also maybe it’s him trying to sober himself. Trying to remember that despite this— despite everything they just did and  how easy it’s always been for them to fall into step with one another— Remus isn’t good enough to be seen with Sirius in the light of day. He’s probably not handsome enough or cool enough or something else that makes Sirius absolutely revolted from the thought. Probably that he’s beyond bookish, and looks painfully virginal and isn’t nearly as sly or snarky as his other conquests.

Truly, Remus should just be thankful that Sirius wants this at all, he shouldn’t be so crazed over the why nots of the situation— it’ll only kill him trying to be something he never could actually affect with any credence.

Schooling his features to something passably indifferent, Remus pivots to face him again, is startled when he finds Sirius still naked and staring at him with a burning sort of intensity in his storm cloud eyes. 

“He hasn’t said anything, but I guess he’s assuming as much,” he finally says, running a hand through his overgrown fringe, that familiar twitch of the corner of his mouth grabbing Remus’s attention. The one that tells him Sirius is actually irritated about something he’s not letting himself say out loud. 

“Erm, good? Gid’s a decent guy.” Remus mutters, head ducked once it gets to a point that he can’t stand Sirius looking at him like that— Not after how blissed out and ferocious he had been groping every inch of Remus only moments ago. “You guys are nice together.”

And it’s like the breath before the worst of storms when his words collapse between them, making the pregnant silence go suddenly suffocating.

“Right,” Sirius intones once Remus levels their gazes, hurriedly standing and collecting his own clothes, fracturing the moment completely. “Right. Whatever, yeah. I’ll go to the fucking dance with fucking Gideon Prewett. That’s good.”

“Sir—“

“No, it’s fine. You can just stay home, and mourn over that douchebag Dearborn some more, even though you ending it with that dick was the best decision you could’ve made, Remus, and I’m not even saying it just because I’m petty. He is a prick, and you need to finally get a clue how much better you deserve, damn it!”

Remus’s head feels like it’s swimming. Why is Sirius so angry all of a sudden? Does he not like Gideon? Why can’t he just cut it off like so many times before? And why the hell is he petty over Caradoc? The entire situation feels like someone’s just handed him a wedge of Swiss cheese and told him to knit it back together. 

“What is up your ass?” He decides is an appropriate enough question for his floundering, and shutters back only slightly at how fuming Sirius looks when he rounds on him— clothes disheveled and fearsome glower heavy on his face. 

“Whatever Remus, if you can’t see that Dearborn is bad news—“

“I’m not pining for Dearborn,” Remus interjects, really doesn’t feel like listening to one of Sirius’s ridiculous diatribes about him, not now. Not when he’s still so bewildered by everything else. “Why would you think that?”

The fire in Sirius’s eyes vanishes as quickly as someone blowing on a candle, and it’s his turn to gawk, gaping at Remus, shoulders dragged down and eyes wide. “Wait— You’re not?”

“No…. I haven’t even thought about him for weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius looks contemplative for a moment, before the righteous anger that only he could ever wear with such conviction, melts over him once more. “All right, then what the fuck is this?”

Remus stiffens, feels his veins lace with ice, an his breath catch somewhere in his throat, really does not think he’s ready for this conversation. “This?” 

“Yes, Remus, this!” Sirius demands, sounding harsh in comparison to the barely croak Remus had spoken with. “Listen I don’t care if you want me to wait some more, if you need to lick your wounds or whatever. But why are you like pushing me on other people? Why do you want me not to be around? why do you  want me to go out with other dudes?”

Remus lies back on the chest of drawers now, feels beyond dazed. “What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?”

Sirius clenches his teeth right then, the hinge of his jaw going taught 

before he skulks closer, not letting Remus drop his gaze. “Is it me? Is it that you just can’t see me that way? Are you just stringing me along or something? Because I really didn’t think that was your style, but if it’s that, then Remus—“

“Stringing you along?” Remus asks in a voice barely above a whisper, just needs to feel his lips forming the absolutely risible words, even if it makes it so something dark passes across Sirius’s beauteous features.

“Remus, I swear to God! Stop repeating everything I’m fucking saying!”

“Then start making  some damn sense!” Remus snaps, suddenly heated as he straightens and pins him with a proper scowl. “What in holy hell are you going on about?”

“God! Do I have to spell it out!” Sirius barks, cutting the final step dividing them and grabbing for Remus’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “I know you just wanted to fuck around with someone after Dearborn showed his extreme dickitude, and listen, I was so fucking ecstatic that you wanted me for it. But I can’t do this in-between shit anymore! I’m sorry, but I can’t! And I get if this is annoying, but I’ve been crazy for you for so long. And I just can’t keep myself at an arms length anymore, not now that we’ve really had each other, not after you let me actually touch and taste and fuck you and— Damn it, this isn’t coming out the way I wanted, all right! Damn it, maybe Evans was right and I should’ve made queue cards like some dumb ass— But then James pointed out how unromantic that was, and Marlene said—“

Gently, Remus puts his shaking fingers against Sirius’s lips, effectively killing off anything else he’s about to say. And slowly, everything is beginning to slot into place, and he’s so spiteful over how they’ve been such idiots this entire time— swears to put salt into Lily’s coffee next time he sees her. 

“I didn’t know you actually were into me Sirius.”

Stunned, Sirius’s dark brows hike up to his hairline. “How the hell didn’t you know?” He demands against Remus’s fingers, thunderous and insulted looking.

“Because you never fucking said as much!” Remus defends himself, feels a mangled sort of laughter squirming out. “God, we’re idiots.”

“We’re?” Sirius asks, hesitant and red faced before Remus moves his hand to peck softly against his mouth. 

“I’ve been half in love with you for years you absolute ass-wipe, it’s always been you! You and always you.” Remus tells him breathily, still fighting down the last remnants of his actual, god forsaken giggle— like he’s thirteen again and getting buzzed off his mom’s peach wine coolers. “I only never said anything because I never thought I’d have a chance with someone like you— Someone so— so— Someone so amazing.”

The smile Sirius favors him with right then is something absolutely incandescent, and his eyes shimmer with a very distinct sort of joy that Remus wonders if anyone besides him has ever witnessed. “Then you’re definitely the biggest idiot between us, Lupin.” Sirius declares, knocking their foreheads together, and lacing his hand into Remus’s own before squeezing meaningfully.

“Fuck off,” Remus snorts, presses forwards for another languorous kiss, not feeling in danger of being swallowed whole any more— finally letting himself drown and knowing that Sirius will be there to pull him back up no matter what. 

“Oh, I could get used to this,” Sirius smirks, snakes his arms around Remus’s waste that bit tighter.

“Hmm, there is the problem that I usually don’t put out until at least the third or fourth date,” Remus says mildly.

“Pff, ‘s fine, Lupin,” Sirius insists, grinning beatifically. “I like you being a hussy for me!— Oof, careful with the merchandize, you were speaking some real exaltations about that part of my anatomy not too long ago.”

Moving his knee from the point at hand, Remus sticks out his tongue at him. “See if you ever get any ever again, Sirius Black.”

When Sirius laughs, it sounds like the strike of lightening against unmarked land, and the honey cloaked side of a knife’s edge, and like everything splendid Remus has ever known. And he thinks that yes, he could get used to this right back.

.-

[alexlwrites]

Liability

Summary: The one where your best friend of years and love of your life is getting married and wants you to be the maid of honor. Luckily for you, the best man is not exactly happy either.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Tags: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst

A/n: had to repost cause someone said they couldn't find the last post for some reason.

Part 4: All I can be is sorry

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi <3 )

(<<<Part three)

“What are you doing here?” was the first thing you said and despite the many hours your friend had spent there and his spare key, the words still sounded like an accusation.

Jungkook was silent under you, holding still like he was trying to disappear, but Taehyung noticed him. “What are you doing here?” he said, voice far from welcoming.

The younger boy walked in, stepping into your living room and placing you gently on the couch “Ran into Y/N” he answered quietly “she hurt her ankle and I helped her, that’s all.”

“I didn’t know you were close.”

Jungkook waited for you to deny it, but instead you repeated your first question “What are you doing here?”

“You said you needed to talk” Taehyung answered, voice confused as if it was obvious.

“Yeah, hours ago!” you could feel the flames of anger rising within you, filled by years of frustration and the worst few weeks of your life “You can’t just show up here out of nowhere this late.”

“What are you talking about?” Taehyung sounded more and more confused, voice rising just like yours “We used to show up like this all the time”

“Not anymore! I’m not gonna show up unnanounced at your fucking house and go ‘boo’ at your fiance, so you shouldn’t do the same here!”

There was a moment of pause, a stretch of silence as Taehyung took in what you said and for a second you thought you saw a light recognition in his eyes, but Jungkook distracted you before you could look into it “I should go. I hope you feel better soon, Y/N” he turned to you and something in face made you believe he was talking about something beyond your injure.

“Thank you so much for your help, Jungkook” you smiled at him, trying to ignore Taehyung’s burning look “I’d walk you to the door, but…”

He grinned slightly and waved you away “I got it, don’t worry” when the door closed behind him, you realized neither Jungkook nor Taehyung had said goodbye to each other.

You turned your look back to your friend, noticing how for the first time how out of place he looked in your home, in your line of sight.

“Where is all your stuff?” he asked again in a quieter, more polite manner.

This was it, you thought, but the answers left your mouth much more easily than you initially believed they would “I’m moving.”

Taehyung nodded, having probably already deduced that. “Getting a bigger place?” he guessed, walking around the room trying to look casual “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

You watched him, his steps and shifting eyes, overthinking his movements as he gave you nothing but a blank face “Bigger country.”

That made him turn and you felt panic bubble inside you, clawing the walls of your body and begging to leave whatever way it could, in screams, tears or digging nails into skin. That was the confrontation you avoided until it loomed over you like a guillotine.

“What do you mean?” he sounded strained, like he was holding back, fighting against the same panic you did, slightly closer to winning than you.

“I got a promotion. A really great offer to relocate to their English branch.” show no weakness, you told yourself, you are not asking for permission.

Taehyung did not like that.

“And what?” he threw his hands in the air, like your answer wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy him “You’re just gonna leave everything behind, just like that? What about your family?”

“My parents know and they’ve already made plans to visit. They are very excited. This is huge for me, Taehyung.”

“What about your friends?”

You scoffed “Who, Yoongi? He was the one who told me to take the job…”

“What about me, Y/N?”

Weeks ago you would have a five thousand word answer to that question. Weeks ago you asked that question before every choice you made. Weeks ago you loved him much more than you did yourself.

But now you just loved him so much it hurt and loving yourself wasn’t nearly as painful.

“You don’t need me here.”

He shook his head angrily “You can’t seriously believe that’s true.”

You shrugged, but that wasn’t enough for him again “Is this about Haewon? About the wedding?”

Back was the panic and it begged you to let it react, to take control over your body so it could pump adrenaline into it and force you to ignore any physical or emotional pain and run away. “What do you mean?” you asked, voice sounding so quiet under the thunderous beat of your heart.

Taehyung turned his back to you, hunched like he was hiding something “Nothing, never mind.”

But you knew better. Something in you was attuned to him, something that grew over the years, trained to pick apart and recognize lies, half-truths and omissions, like when he said a scratch didn’t hurt as kids or when he told you he loved you as adults.

That something brought you to the epiphany you spent years avoiding. “You know.” you said.

He didn’t move, still hunched in silence, and that was enough of an answer. “You know” you repeated, but now it sounded like an accusation just like the first words you directed at him that night, like you were placing blame “Oh my God, you know.”

He finally looked at you, all worried eyes and twisted fingers picking at each other and you wished you could have done something to make him feel better but you could barely breathe just like you could barely stand up, limbs and heart on fire.

“Y/N…” he started, but you didn’t let him finish. You had flames in the back of your throat forcing out all the words stuck there, pushing the questions you held back for so long they became part of the fabric of you.

“How long have you know?” you asked and he flinched at every word, but this time you didn’t stop them from coming “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

Nothing in his guilty expression made you feel sorry for him, not his teary eyes, not his next words “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You really think I would leave?” you asked and God, you wish you could stand up, wish you could push him back “You really think so little of me that you think I’d just throw our friendship in the garbage if you rejected?”

Taehyung winced as you got louder, shrinking until he looked much smaller than usual “I though things would become too awkward between the two of us.”

“Taehyung did you really think I expected anything but rejection?” tears were leaving you as your frustration rose “Did you really think years of you parading girlfriends in front of me gave me hope? Lead me on? How much of an idiot do you think I am?”

He shook his head, getting close to you and kneeling on the floor by your legs, faces leveled with each other “I just could never bring myself to let you down. I t-tried, you know, seeing you that way, but…”

“Please, stop talking!” you placed your hands on your ears and shut your eyes, hoping you could hide your humiliation “I don’t want to hear all the ways you tried to force yourself to love me!”

He took your hand between his, forcing your arms down “I do love you!”

“No, you don’t! Cause if you did, you would’ve said something! You wouldn’t have let me suffer in silence, you would’ve talked to me and allowed me to move the fuck on from you.”

“I’m sorry.” he sighed and although his apologies sounded sincere they meant nothing for you “I was selfish and I didn’t want you to move on from me. I still don’t want you to move away from me. I feel so-”

"No, you don't get to be sorry, you don't get to be sad or to be hurt, you don't get anything cause you got me for years.” you took your hands away, ignoring how he taken back he looked at yout outburst “For years you got me by your side watching you fall in love with different people; got me by your side at parties just for you to leave with someone else; got me by your side as your fucking bride got to choose her wedding dress and i got nothing. I didn't get to feel a thing, didn’t get to feel sorry for myself because I didn't feel like I had the right to keep you by my side. You don't get to feel shit now." the last part came out as a whisper as the energy left your body and left you empty.

You both sat in silence for a while as neither dared to say anything after that. You shut your eyes to avoid looking into his and feeling any sympathy.

Finally, you heard him stand up “Maybe I should leave” he said and he sounded almost as bad as you felt.

“No, not maybe. You should leave.”

You heard his steps as he walked, counting silently in your head to see how many it would take for him to walk out of your life.

He stopped halfway.

“You don’t have to come to the wedding.”

You scoffed “I know I don’t.”

“But I’d really love it if you did.”

“Well, you know what, for the first time I don’t really care about what you’d love, Taehyung.”

---

Jungkook sat in his car for a long time after he left you, flexing and relaxing his hand like he always did when he was nervous or stressed. From his window he could see the entrance to your building and he watched for a while, curious to see how long it would take for Taehyung to leave. When he didn’t, Jungkook drove away.

As the lights and cars passed by, he wondered if he should’ve stayed longer. If he should’ve stayed there until his hyung left, his presence sparing you of any fights or arguments.

Jungkook thought you deserved a little peace.

He remembered a time where you didn’t look so fragile and exhausted. He stored away those memories like a precious little thing, all those stolen looks he got from across Haewon’s living room kept like a treasure, because he didn’t know when he would get to see you like that again.

Jealousy and resentment settled inside of him as he drove, thinking of Taehyung’s interaction with you. What would it be like, he thought, to be so secure of his place in your life that he could just walk into your apartment and make himself at home?

Jungkook still felt like it was a bit audacious for him to show up like that and he couldn’t deny how happy he felt when it looked like you felt that too.

When he got home, Jungkook allowed himself to lie on his bed, taking in the smell of your perfume that had rubbed off on his shirt. He allowed himself to relive his night with you, happy to have a few memories to save, finally some that were his own and not borrowed glimpses. He counted on his fingers the time you laughed and said his name, the moments he had to avoid blushing like a high schooler in love.

And then he stowed them all away and reminded himself of your empty apartment and way too full heart and how your life had no place for him at the moment.

[whileyourebythesea]

since it’s the first anniversary of folklore, i decided to make a post dedicated to all the lyrics i will never emotionally recover from

the 1:

- if you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow

- you know the greatest loves of all time are over now

- i persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

cardigan:

- when you are young, they assume you know know nothing, but i knew you

- when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite

- a friend to all is a friend to none

- you drew stars around my scars, but now i’m bleedin’

- marked me like a bloodstain

- i knew you tried to change the ending, peter losing wendy

- leavin’ like a father, running like water

tlgad:

- fifty years is a long time holiday house sat quietly on that beach, free of woman with madness, their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me

- there goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen, i had a marvelous time ruining everything

exile:

- it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it, holdin’ all this love out here in the hall

- you’re not my homeland anymore, so what am i defending now?

- you were my town, now i’m in exile, seein’ you out

- second, third, and hundredth chances, balancin’ on breaking branches, those eyes add insult to injury

- i’m not your problem anymore, so who am i offending now?

mtr:

- even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me? cause i loved you, i swear i loved you til my dying day

- and if i’m dead to you, why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed, look at how my tears ricochet

- you know i didn’t want to have to haunt you, but what a ghostly scene

- and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home

- and you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones

- and when you can’t sleep at night, you hear my stolen lullabies

- you had to kill me but it killed you just the same

mirrorball:

- when i break, it’s in a million pieces

- i’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me

- and i’m still a believer, but i don’t know why, i’ve never been a natural, all i do is try, try, try

- i’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me

seven:

- and though i can’t recall your face, i still got love for you

- your braids make a pattern, love you to the moon and to saturn

- and i’ve been meaning to tell you, i think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why

- and i think you should come live with me and we can be pirates, then you want have to cry, or hide in the closet

- passed down like folk songs, our love lasts so long

august:

- i remember thinking i had you

- wanting was enough, for me, it was enough, to live for the hope of it all, cancel plans just in case you’d call

- so much for summer love and saying “us”, cause you weren’t mine to lose

this is me trying:

- i had the shiniest wheels now their rusting

- i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back

- pulled the car off the road to the lookout, could’ve followed my fears all the way down

- i just wanted you to know that this is me trying

- they told me all of my cages were mental, so i got wasted like all my potential

- and my words shoot to kill when i’m mad, i have a lot of regrets about that

- it’s hard to be at a party when i feel like an open wound

illicit affairs:

- look at this godforsaken mess that you made me, you showed me colors you know i can’t see with anyone else

- look at this idiotic fool that you made me, you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else, and you know damn well, for you, i would ruin myself, a million little times

invisible string:

- chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons, one single thread of gold tied me to you

- hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

mad woman:

- do you see my face in the neighbor’s lawn? does she smile? or does she mouth, “fuck you, forever”?

- and you’ll poke that bear til her claws come out, and you find something to wrap your noose around

- and women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you, it’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together

epiphany:

- something med school did not cover, someone’s daughter, someone’s mother

- holds your hand through plastic now, “doc, i think she’s crashing out”, and some things you just can’t speak about

peace:

- i never had the courage of my convictions as long as danger is near, and it’s just around the corner, darling, cause it lives in me, no, i could never give you peace

- all these people think love’s for show, but i would die for you in secret

- and you know that i’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child

- i’d give you my sunshine, give you my best but the rain is always gonna come, if you’re standing with me

hoax:

- stood on the cliffside screaming, “give me a reason”

- i am ash from your fire

- you knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart, but what you did is just as dark

- my only one, my kingdom come undone, my broken drum, you have beaten my heart

the lakes:

- i’ve come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze tell me what are my words worth

- i’m setting off, but not without my muse, no, not without you

[fallen-gravity]

Safety in Numbers

A surprise gift fic for @artsymeeshee, because the art she recently posted of the Stan Twins cuddling warmed my heart and apparently inspired me to write..uh...almost five thousands words.

Don’t you dare tag this as a ship.

Summary:  Every great thing that ever happens to you is usually followed by something much, much worse.

You save the world from the apocalypse, you're convinced that you've lost everything and everyone you've ever loved.

You gain your memories back, you have nightmares so vivid that they fuck with your sense of fantasy versus reality.

It's a lose-lose, if you ask Stan.

AO3

Stan awakens to an alarm clock he doesn’t remember setting. Groaning, he sits up, eyes not quite open yet, and his back makes an ugly popping sound he knows he’s going to feel as soon as his body is fully awake. He blinks his eyes open slowly, and takes a few moments to re-familiarize himself with his twin brother’s old study room. He turns, to check the time and stop that infernal beeping sound, but his neck is so stiff that it makes him want to blow chunks. That’s what he gets for sleeping on a couch, he supposes, but he’s certainly slept on worse, and even if Ford did have a bed somewhere in the mess of a shack he chose to call home, Stan certainly didn’t deserve it, because people who are probably responsible for the death of their family don’t deserve nice things.

Grunting, he swings his legs off the couch, and stands so he doesn’t have to bend his neck in any more weird directions just to turn the alarm off. Its obnoxiously bright red letters blink 5:31am, and Stan scrubs a hand down his face as he punches the clock’s OFF button with the other. 

That’s right. The only reason he set the damn alarm in the first place is because a stubborn customer who couldn’t speak a lick of English refused to leave the gift shop until she found the perfect gift for her little kiddo back home despite the Shack having closed nearly half an hour prior. It’s the only time in his life he’s ever been grateful for the year he was trapped in Colombia, because he’s sure if he wasn’t able to heckle with her in Spanish her into leaving with one of everything, he has a feeling she’d still be wandering back and forth across the shop. Stan laughs to himself at the thought, and makes a mental note to make that sort of thing an attraction someday if he ever gets a customer as stubborn as she is again.

But no, that’s not what matters right now. He bends over to pick up a hairbrush that’d been carelessly tossed to the floor the night prior and runs it through his soft brown hair that he promises he’s going to get cut as soon as he has the time and money, and as soon as his hair manageable enough to brush through it without snagging on any tough knots, he carelessly tosses the brush over his shoulder and heads out of the room, navigating himself around the place with a flashlight. He’s aware that it’d make things much easier to just turn the lights on, but keeping the gift shop lights on all weekend is already burning a hole in his wallet, and he’s not sure he could afford the electricity bill if he left the lights in the study room on by mistake for even ten extra minutes.

When he reaches the staircase leading to the basement, he flicks the flashlight off and sets it down on the counter by the cash register. It’s much easier to navigate down the winding steps with both of his hands free in case he falls and needs to catch himself, and the faint blue hum of the portal is enough of a light source to show him the way to the basement anyway. He sits down at the desk, adjusts the framed photo of himself and Ford at boxing practice in high school, and pulls Journal 1 out from the hidden shelf in front of the monitor. He’d spent all of last week desperately looking for 2 and 3, but the harsh winter snowfall had cut his search short and he didn’t want to waste any more time when he could just try to get the damned thing working without them.

“C’mon, Poindexter, y’gotta give me something to work with,” he mumbles, opening the desk drawer and pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. “I spent weeks memorizing all of your fancy shmancy ciphers. That’s more than I ever studied in high school. You can’t ramble on for two whole pages about how to crack them and then switch to this…” he squints at the squiggles scattered across the portal’s blueprints. “...Cooky alien language, or whatever. This is real life we’re talkin’ here. This is your life we’re talkin’ here. It’d be a lot easier if you didn’t write this thing in Klingon, or whatever” 

Stan knows, at the back of his mind, that talking to the journal like it’s Ford himself isn’t going to get him anywhere, but in a weird kind of way, it makes him feel less alone. Helps a guy out from feeling too lonely, y’know? 

He chuckles to himself at his own joke, taking comfort in the fact that if Ford were here he’d probably be rambling off about how Klingon is one of thousands of different intergalactic languages and how he obviously wrote it in Hqjolvk, thank you very much, and Stan can’t help but roll his eyes fondly as he flips through his notepad. He’s tried everything, he’s tried translating them to whichever letter in the English alphabet they just happen to look closest to, he’s tried throwing sentences in gibberish into three different ciphers at once to see if he could get anything even relatively close to whatever it is, and even when he “bought” a book at the store on ancient hieroglyphics and ancient symbolism the closest thing he got was just a bunch of dumb numbers.  And even then, translating all of those dumb numbers back to English from a1z26 just hit him against another dumb wall. 

Frustrated, he throws the pad of paper against the desk and kicks off from its edge, sending his swivel chair flying backwards across the room. When the chair finally stops rolling, his gaze fixes on the portal through the window in front of the desk he’d just been sitting at, and it’s really only now that he’s looking at it from this distance, from this angle, that he notices….the same weird squiggles from the journal carved all over the circular ring in the center of the portal. 

But...if the weird squiggles in the journal came from the portal, and translating those numbers from the Egyptian book through a1z26 just gave him gibberish...could...could it be that easy? Could it be-?

“Coordinates!” Stan yells, jumping to his feet, and tears build in his eyes at the epiphany. “Sweet Moses, they’re coordinates! How could it’ve been so obvious?” he cries, and nearly trips over himself in excitement as he scrambles back over to the monitor,  and his hands are shaking as he flips through his notepad. Once he finds the page he’s looking for, he forces his hands steady as he enters the number into the keypad. 

The tiny, logical voice in the very back of his mind is screaming at him that it’s never going to work, he only has a third of what he needs, he really shouldn’t get his hopes up, but the slamming of his heart against his chest drowns that sound out as he frantically enters and re-enters the numbers when he’s sure he accidentally entered the wrong ones (damn his chubby fingers), and when he’s finally, finally certain he’s gotten them all entered correctly, he presses the dark red SEND button, takes a few steps backwards, and waits. 

For what couldn’t be longer than two minutes but feels like six hours, there’s nothing. Stan’s about to sigh, call it a good stopping point for the day and kick himself for getting his hopes up too high, but then a flash of blue lightning sparks from the portal and strikes the ground.

“HA!” Stan exclaims, pumping his fists in the air. “I knew it! I knew it! Nothing can stop Stan Pines!” 

He sprints into the portal room, pausing only briefly to grab the toolbox on his way in. Two more bolts of lightning strike against the ground with a loud pop as he enters, and the grin spread across Stan’s face rivals them in brightness. Kneeling down in front of the lever, Stan opens his toolbox and pulls out his lucky red screwdriver that’s gotten him out of his fair share of car trunks, and goes to work on fixing up loose bolts and that awful crunching sound the lever kept making the last time he tried turning it on. 

Three bolts emerge from the portal, and Stan is too ecstatic to notice their uncomfortably close proximity to his head. He stands, once he’s absolutely certain he’s got the lever all fixed, and puts everything he has into shoving the lever from its off position to the on position. 

He can hear the gears turning in the machine, and his heart is pounding so hard against his chest it makes his ears ring. He’s tearing up again, but he doesn’t care, just as long as he gets to punch Ford in the shoulder and tell him off to never scare him like that again when he emerges in the next couple of minutes. The circular ring in the center of the portal begins to spin, slowly, and those weird symbols carved along it start to glow blue. 

Stan nearly drops to his knees, but no, he can’t let Ford see him at rock bottom, and maybe that’s a little selfish, considering all of the places Ford’s probably been the past two years, but the last thing he needs Ford to see is how much he’s been killing himself working to get him back. The ring spins faster, and faster, and where there was once a hole in the center of the portal that leads only to the back wall of the room, there’s now a blindingly bright flash of blue light, and Stan is knocked to the ground by the kickback. 

He goes to stand again, but the sound of shattering glass turns his attention elsewhere. He looks behind him, and the lightbulbs in the other room are exploding like it’s nobody’s business. He’s lucky his hearing was heightened from the ten years on the street, because he’s just quick enough to hear the cracking of the bulb right above his head that he’s able to dodge out of the way of the shattered glass as it rains down towards him. He jumps to his feet, brushing his clothes off, but he’s horrified to see that the portal’s ring is beginning to slow to a stop with no twin brother in sight.

“No!” he cries, and sprints back into the other room to reenter the coordinates into the monitor. But it’s just his luck, because the monitor’s glass is shattered to pieces as well, and there’s a thin line of black smoke rising from it. “No, no no no! I was so close!” he shouts, and sprints back into the portal room. He switches the lever from on to off and back to on again, but nothing changes. 

When the ring comes to a complete stop, the bright blue light fades away, an ugly kind of rage boils in the pit of Stan’s stomach. “This is all your fault, you dumb machine!” he yells, and launches at the portal like it was a thug trying to rob him of his wallet, and starts punching it like there’s no tomorrow, like if he gave it enough left hooks it’ll obey him and spit Stanford right out to his side. 

He’s about to go in for another punch when he hears the sound of the machine’s gears turning again. He grins, rubbing his hands together, and steps backwards to watch the process in its completion. Four bolts spark from the portal this time, but rather than strike the ground, they lunge for him, and Stan screams in agony as they jolt through his whole body. He takes it as a sign that he’s probably better off watching the process from the desk in the other room, but when he tries to turn heel and run, five bolts of lightning reach out and snake around his leg before he can take another step further, and he collapses to the ground. Gritting his teeth to avoid letting out a choked cry of pain, Stan tries to inch himself towards the lever for support to stand up, but it’s as if the damned lightning  has the power to read his thoughts, because it shocks the lever with such a thick bolt of lightning that it fries the thing black.

The charge from the lightning gives the lever just the right amount of static charge it needs to reactivate properly, and Stan doesn’t notice the hum of the portal’s gears getting louder and louder until he finds himself floating off the ground. “W-whoa, hey! Hey! Hold on a minute!” Stan scrambles around at nothing in particular, hoping his feet or arms will snag on something and prevent him from getting pulled in. “Let’s talk this over! We can work together!” He must be losing his damn mind if he thinks bargaining with the portal like it’s sentient is going to do anything, but it’s the only option he’s got left. “I just want my brother back! You want to stay on, yeah? You don’t like getting turned on and off at random, right? I’ll-I’ll keep you on! As long as it takes for my brother to find his way home, I’ll keep you turned on! I promise!”

The machine, of course, does not respond, and the higher Stan gets off the ground the blurrier his vision gets. Damn fear of heights. He flaps his arms around as if he could fly, but nothing seems to work. He starts kicking, as well, to see if swimming towards the ground could work any better, but he still doesn’t budge. 

But that does give him the idea of kicking off of the portal itself, since it’s the only solid thing left, save for the ceiling, and Stan curls himself up into a ball to try and get himself to flip over. It works, thankfully, but when he turns his glance back towards the portal his heart drops to his stomach. Curling himself up had helped his body change directions, yes, but it also changed his course entirely. Rather than being sucked towards the edge of the portal’s entrance, like he’d been when he was hovering above the lever, he’s now heading right for the center of the portal with nowhere to kick off of. 

“N-No! No!” He shouts frantically, kicking his leg away from the cold blue substance the portal emitted. When he spares another glance backwards, his feet are already sucked inside, and the rest of him is quickly following. “No! Somebody help! Somebody!” he shouts, his own words painfully echoing those of Ford’s when he’d been in the same situation.

Ford,

If the portal manages to stay active after he gets sucked in, Ford’s gonna be able to find his way home, but he’ll be all alone, left to wonder what could’ve happened to him. Vaguely, Stan remembers Ford had been saying something about shutting it down for good, and his panicked flailing at the thought that he may be the one never coming again only makes his descent into the portal quicken. “Stanford!” he shouts, in the odds that his brother can hear his cries from the other side of the portal. “Stanford, do something! Stanford!” 

The blue substance within the portal is thick and flavorless as his head is sucked in. He closes his mouth, because he doesn’t want to risk suffocating on whatever the hell this stuff is made of, and closes his eyes for impact for the same horrors that swallowed up his brother just two years prior, and…

…

…

…

…

…

When he forces his eyes open again, he’s lying on a bed. An actual, decently sized bed with fluffy blankets and at least three pillows supporting his head and neck. He’s not sure he’s slept on one of those in….what, thirteen years, give or take, if he’s not including the bug-infested hotels? 

All of his burns from the lightning strikes have seemingly vanished into thin air, along with that gnawing hunger that never seemed to leave his stomach even when he had the time to eat more than a single meal a day, and though the air feels cool, it doesn’t feel humid and stuffy like Ford’s old lab had felt moments ago. 

The rest of his aches are gone, too, he realizes as he sits up, replaced now by a dull pain in his hips and knees that he supposes he could credit to getting sucked into a portal and falling thirty feet to the ground to...uh, wherever he is now. 

Is this where Ford’s been stuck all this time? It’s no wonder he never tried to find his way back on his own, because all things considered, this place is actually pretty comfortable. Maybe he wound up on a friendly alien planet, and some locals rushed him to the hospital to get him fixed up. But there’s no calamity outside his door like there usually is in most hospitals back on Earth, and there’s no weird tubes attached to either of his arms and not a sight of ace bandages anywhere on his body. And...is he…swaying back and forth? 

Stan glances down at his hands, and the rest of his body still wrapped in a thick comforter. No, it’s not him, he realizes quickly, it’s the room that’s swaying back and forth. If he squints hard enough, he can make out the foot of his bed gently rocking back and forth. Scratching at his head, he goes to stand up and investigate his surroundings, until he notices a round window next to where he’d just been laying his head, just outside of his current line of sight. He lies back down, and his breath nearly catches in his throat at the sight. 

It’s the biggest cluster of stars he’s ever seen his entire life, and if he looks close enough, he can see streaks of what he can only assume must be the galaxy itself. It certainly looks like the Earth’s skies, and when he looks again he notices the stars are reflecting off of… some kind of body of water? 

Ah, so he’s on a boat. That explains the swaying. There’s a twinge of warm nostalgia in chest at the realization, of the days two scrappy little boys from New Jersey would spend their afternoons working on a sailboat of their own, musing dreamily about the day they’d finally sail away from the dumb town. 

But...no. That couldn’t possibly be right. He got kicked out at seventeen, and Ford is god-knows-where in the universe. This must be some sort of sick joke, or an optical illusion that plays on his greatest dreams, or something. He turns away from the window, covering that half of his face with the blanket, and fully intends to fall asleep so he can bug the boat’s captain in the morning about where the hell he is and how the hell he wound up here in the first place. Just as he’s about to close his eyes, though, he notices a bulky, bright pink book sitting at his bedside table next to the lamp.

Well, he’s got nothing to lose, right? Maybe this thing’ll have some answers. He flicks the lamp on and sits up. The book is called MABEL’S SCRAPBOOK, and the title written in glitter pen in a child’s handwriting. 

He snorts in laughter. Maybe the book belongs to the captain’s daughter, and she left it in here by mistake. Still, it could help to learn more about the family keeping him captive, and it’s not like she’ll know he ever read it, right? He chuckles to himself at the thought, but as soon as he grabs for the book to place it on his lap, the feel and smell of the dried glue and paint on the cover makes him feel dizzy, and his head’s suddenly swirling with so many thoughts that he feels like he’s drowning.

Grunkle Stan, it’s me! It’s me Grunkle Stan!

There has to be something we can do! I know my grunkle’s in there!

This is our first day in Gravity Falls, and this is when you let me take the grappling hook from the gift shop! Dipper thought I’d never use it, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Zing!

Over and over, all at once, the voice of two….wonderful, incredible rascal little nuisance kids keep yelling at him in his head, and he slams the book back down against his nightstand. 

Damn memory relapses. Ford warned him they could happen, since McGucket had experienced a few of them himself before Stan and Ford left Gravity Falls, but Ford never said anything about the nightmares. Yeah, yeah, he could see it as a good thing, extra proof that his mind’s intact and they don’t need to worry that it’ll ever be gone for good, but nothing sucks more than nightmares that are so based in reality that they fuck with your sense of what’s real and what isn’t. 

Stan rubs his eyes, and stands up. He figures it’d be a good idea to step out on deck and get some fresh air. He has no idea what time it is, but maybe if he goes and stares at the stars long enough he’ll eventually feel tired enough to crawl back into bed. He flicks his lamp light back off, and he’s maybe three steps out of his bedroom door before he notices that the light in Ford’s bedroom next to his is still on. 

Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. He wants to be mad at Ford for staying up this late, and any other night he would tell him off and guilt him into sleeping by lying about how his light and excessive scribbling is what woke him up, but tonight he’s actually relieved by his brother’s dangerous sleeping habits, because talking out loud about his relapses and distinguishing real memories from fake ones always seems to widen the gap between his next relapse, and it certainly doesn’t help that tonight’s nightmare was about Ford’s disappearance. He creaks the door open slowly, to avoid activating Ford’s flight-or-magnet-gun-in-your-face response, and his mouth closes just as quickly as he’d opened it to speak. Ford’s desk lamp is on, yes, but his nerdy brother is not, in fact, hunched over with a thousand stacks of paper covering his face like he usually is this time of night.

Oh no. The lamp, it seems, was left on by mistake, because Ford’s curled up in his bed, fast asleep with his face half-buried in the pillow and his glasses tucked away in the drawer of his nightstand that he must’ve forgotten to close.  Rolling his eyes, Stan sneaks into the room as quietly as he can and flicks the light off so he doesn’t have to replace the lightbulb when it subsequently dies out in the morning. 

He turns heel, and he’s set on going back to his original plan of staring up at the sky until he feels tired again, but as he turns to close Ford’s door he gets another close look at his brother’s sleeping form and his chest warms with nostalgia at the sight as another memory, one from his childhood, resurfaces itself tonight. 

When they were kids, Pa was...never the comforting kind of parent. And yeah, while that was pretty obvious in that it was always Ma who helped patch up their skinned knees and splinters from the boardwalk and the occasional bee sting, there were times he’d be...more subtle about it, if that’s even the right word to describe him. If either of them came poking their heads in their parents’ bedroom after a nightmare, asking if they could crawl in bed and sleep with them for the night, Pa would always brush them off and send them back to their own room, giving them some excuse about the shop opening early tomorrow and how he can’t afford to lose any sleep in case someone tries to come in and rob them.

From a young age, Stan and his brother learned that it’d be easier just to stop asking Pa at all, and instead they’d resort to climbing into each other’s bed instead. They shared a bunk bed up until they were about fourteen, and they had this unspoken system going where if the other poked them awake or tried to crawl under their blanket in the middle of the night, they’d have to comply and let them in without asking why because it usually meant they were having bad dreams. Ford learned very early on never to hesitate for Stan, because he knew that if Stan was willing to climb to the top bunk despite his fear of heights that his nightmares must’ve been bad. 

Stan pauses, and wonders if Ford still remembers those times as well as he does. He hesitates, his grip still tight around the doorknob, until he recalls that it had been Ford who had asked him to accompany him to the arctic, and Ford who kept their childhood photo tucked away in the pocket of his trench coat.  

Well, here goes nothing.

Just as quietly as he’d been before, he tiptoes over to Ford’s bedside, and he’s thankful to find that there was still enough room for him to crawl under the covers without squishing Ford uncomfortably against the wall. Slowly, as not to jostle the blankets too much to wake his brother, he flips a corner of the blanket up, crawls underneath, and as soon as his head hits the extra pillow he’s out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Ford had to complain about anything from his thirty year trip around the multiverse, besides, well...all of it, he’d have to credit the worst of it to his heightened hearing. 

Ages ago, when it’d just been two weeks since he was sucked into the portal, he taught himself to sleep with his eyes open, and he taught his ears to pick up on the tiniest of movements, even the wind blowing the leaves off a tree branch. He couldn’t afford capture, and if that meant he had to sacrifice sleep to assure it wouldn’t happen, then so be it.

He’d lost the habit of sleeping with his eyes open after all the time he spent with Jheselbraum, thank god, but he could never quite get over the habit of listening. Every time something creaked in the Shack, every time Stan or one of the kids awoke in the middle of the night in search of the bathroom, it’d wake him up in a jolt, and it’d always take him longer than necessary to fall back asleep.

The nights on the Stan O’ War II are usually the quietest and most peaceful nights Ford’s ever experienced since his childhood. Though he and Stan always spend their days tracking and hunting monsters, they’re always able to find quiet little seaport towns to dock their boat when they need a place to rest for the night where nobody makes a peep until sunrise. 

That is...until tonight. He’d been awake just a few minutes prior, mapping out the coordinates for the next monster they needed to track down and how long it would take for them to find it, but he finally got to a point where he had been so tired that his handwriting was starting to give up on him and he decided it was probably for the best that he just go to sleep.  Standing to stretch, he places his glasses in the drawer of his nightstand and didn’t bother with the lamp light because he could just replace the bulb in the morning if need be, and practically collapsed face first onto his bed and fell asleep. 

He heard mumbling coming from the thin wall to his brother’s room, and since their departure from Gravity Falls he’s become so used to Stan’s constant presence that it no longer bolts him awake. In a way it’s almost comforting, knowing he’s never alone on the vast sea. He shifts, when he hears his brother’s slippers lightly slapping against the deck, but dismisses that just as quickly.  

He can feel himself dozing back off to real sleep when he hears his own lamp click off and his bedroom door closing. Ah, Stan was probably coming in to check on him but left when he saw that he was already asleep. That’s fine; he did that a lot the week before they left for their trip. He’s used to it. 

What he’s not used to is the blanket getting ripped from his shoulders, and the bed making a dull creaking sound of...something  sitting on it. Baffled, he pops his eye open, ready to reach for his weapon in case some sea creature managed to slip on board and into his bed, but his heart rate eases when he makes out the familiar shape of his brother fast asleep in the other half of his bed.

The sight of it makes Ford want to laugh. 

He can’t believe Stan remembers. 

Closing his eyes, Ford shifts his position ever so slightly, like it’s a maneuver he’s been practicing for ages, and scooches himself closer to Stan without shaking the bed. He snakes an arm around Stanley’s shoulder, whose whole body seems to release itself of tension at the gesture. Unconsciously, Stan shifts himself closer to Ford as well, and snakes his own arm around Ford’s chest, like he, too, had been practicing the maneuver since they were separated all those years ago.

[madyxtothemax]

The Pit Stop - Part One with @MyArrowBends

Atticus: 

-After a few days, the roads and sights began to blur together. Each truck stop was the same. The coffee all tasted the same and the bathrooms were all equally disgusting. I had enjoyed the solitude at first, but was now beginning to get a little stir crazy, and despite having bought a thicker foam for the bed, it still wasn’t the greatest sleep I’d ever had. 

As I crossed into California, I found myself craving human interaction, and more important than that, I had decided one way or another I would be sleeping in an actual bed tonight. As I gassed up at another same looking, shitty coffee making gas station, I didn’t bother checking google for any nearby hotels, figuring I’d stop when I grew tired and see what was close at that point. 

The hours passed and the sun was inching down toward the horizon with a speed that my van couldn’t seem to match. Dusk had settled and on the horizon I could see a cluster of lights that belonged to a city. I wasn’t sure which one it was, it didn’t matter. I had stopped paying attention to the names at this point since I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I would know when I was ready to stop and until I felt that feeling, I’d keep driving west. 

As the city lights grew closer, that same feeling of from earlier in the day returned. I was ready to find a motel for the night, maybe even somewhere I could grab a drink and a greasy burger. The potential for brief human interaction had a grin pulling the corners of my lips up. 

Still, I avoided searching something out on my phone, wanting to see what I could find on my own. Exiting off the freeway, and making my way toward the city, my eyes searched the buildings as I passed them by. Disappointingly, nothing much seemed to be open...at least nothing that grabbed my attention or sparked any interest. I wanted to find something local, I wasn’t interested in any kind of franchise. Those places were not geared toward any kind of interaction, speed and efficiency was their purpose. 

Finally after a few turns bringing me deeper into the city, I spotted a neon sign. The bright OPEN flashing in the door was the only invitation I needed. Admittedly, I wasn’t paying proper attention because I was still needing to keep an eye on the road, but as I pulled my van over to the sidewalk and looked up at the sign to fully read it, I couldn’t stop my laughter as it filled the quiet around me. 

A tattoo shop. 

I was not a collector of skin art, even though I liked it, I had never really felt a desire or pull to permanently mark my body with any sort of image. But I could see people inside, and I could go in and look around. I could get that human interaction I was craving even if I had zero intentions of getting a tattoo. Yeah. I could do that. 

Twisting the key in the ignition to turn off the engine, I unbuckled my seatbelt and made my way toward the door, noting the time on the door before opening it. I paused to check the time on my phone...they weren’t too far from closing. Perfect. Just enough time to have myself a casual conversation with someone about something I’d never follow through on before finding myself some food and a bed to sleep on.-

Madyx:

<I’d woken with it, the unshakable intuition alerting me that something was on the way. Something for me to attend to. Something significant. Someone to benefit from my unique abilities. Something to shake up the doldrums of a monotonous wave of months. 

As the hours in the day had passed like any other with a few window shoppers, bookings and not much more, whatever I had been anticipating hadn’t materialized. My intuition wasn’t normally so off, in fact I momentarily wondered if I’d pissed off the wrong people and lost my privileges. But, nah, I couldn’t shake it, even as the hours ticked down to less than fifteen minutes before the neon went dark. 

Having just finished with the people who’d shown up to book a session with Jordan, I was relegated to the idea I’d served as a glorified personal assistant for the day. Hell, I hadn’t even done a single piercing, let alone expressed anything in ink. At least Jordan would be pleased with what I’d lined up for her; a lot of people looking to lose their memories and oh-so-many willing to accept whatever consequences came with those choices.

I had my back turned as the group of three left, the bell chiming their exit. Oddly, the shop didn’t feel empty; I wasn’t alone after all. 

Turning, I was unsurprised to see a guy had wandered in just as the others had left. First impression was strong: he looked road weary, like he’d been places, but he wasn’t weighted by fatigue - nope. He wore whatever travels he’d been on with an earnestness. He wasn’t unkempt, but it looked like he hadn’t had a shave in a few days, and there was nothing that could have been done to conceal that he was damn gorgeous. I’d need to see more skin to know if there was any ink hidden under the clothes, and there were no visible piercings… visible being the operative word… 

Right.

I detoured my thoughts from veering in the direction of the gutter and noted the feeling that surfaced during the day had morphed into something more tangible. 

Well then.

I walked his way, which conveniently enough, was in the direction of the sign that was about to go dark. He, whoever he was, already had an unspoken invitation to stay as long as he liked.> 

Hey man, anything I can help you with? 

Atticus: 

-As I stood at the door, hand gripping the handle while sliding my phone into my back pocket, I looked up in time to see three people headed my way. I swung the door open and held it for them, offering an easy smile as they passed and spoke with an excitement I suddenly realized I wanted to feel. Seeing it on others left me no choice but to notice that I was heavily lacking that type of emotion in my own life. Sure, I had bought my van and felt the excitement and when I hit the road, it was there. But it was surface level excitement. 

I wanted to feel the rush of doing something impactful in my life. I still wanted to have some kind of human contact, and while my opinion and lack of desire to ink my skin hadn’t changed in the thirty seconds it took for me to hold a door open and walk inside the shop, I was definitely more open to suggestions. 

The guy who was working had his back to me. That was fine, he was busy and I had all the time in the world to wait to be noticed. Rather than doing something obnoxious like clearing my throat, I turned and began to look at the flash on the walls. Each page was neatly framed and hung with obvious care. Not a single one was off kilter. It made me smile. Anyone who paid this much attention to detail truly cared about what they did. I was envious of their passion.

I didn’t even have artwork that had hung on the walls in my office back in New York. Maybe if I had, my attitude toward being stuck behind a desk all day would have improved. Likely not. 

As I scanned a page filled with anchors, ships and pinup girls, a voice was directed at me. I had been so lost in my head, I forgot my entire reason for stepping into a shop I had no business being in. Turning my attention on the guy, I paused at his question. Shit. Instant attraction. I couldn’t remember the last time that had ever happened. My dick twitched as if to say, SURPRISE I still work! I felt completely disarmed. A fraud. An imposter. I couldn’t help the laugh that was two parts guilt and one part eagerness. 

“...anything I can help you with…”

Was there anything he could help me with? ...yes there certainly was, but I really didn’t want to admit that or what my initial reaction to him had been. My eyes searched his face first and then his gaze as it remained on me. His eyes were warm and welcoming the way my beloved hoodie felt each time I put it on. 

I was taking too long to answer but he didn’t seem to mind considering I was one of those assholes who showed up 15 minutes before closing. Remembering my entire reason for coming in here, to have a conversation with someone, I lifted my hand to the frame on the wall I had been looking at and grinned lazily at him, one side slightly higher than the other as I answered his question with one of my own.- Do you know who drew these? 

Madyx:

<The closer I got, the better my last call was looking. He appeared to be admiring what he saw on the wall which was a lift to my confidence after a day of nada. I was starting to pick up on the energy he was throwing off, and it was coming through strong. He was rife with a quiet excitement, like he was flirting with epiphanies and on the edge of taking chances. I was feeling it on a vibration much higher than my norm. Instant clarity. I relaxed into myself after his arrival helped me shake that unrequited anticipation I’d battled all day.  

When his eyes flicked off the art on the wall to me, I was ill prepared. His steel-blue irises were rimmed in navy, and subtly backlit; his gaze flecked with mischief. The cut of his jaw was a visual temptation outfitted with an infuriatingly attractive amount of scruff. His laugh broke me out of my preoccupation. It was telling, but only thanks to my extra sensory skills. 

His grin though… that was what slayed me where I stood. Crooked and slow, even stretched his lips were full and fetching.  Literally, I couldn’t have hand-picked the features of my non-type type more perfectly. He was exactly what I liked in a guy, at least physically. 

The lift of his hand to indicate the frame on the wall brought up my stare. A confident grin preceded my answer.>  

That would be me. But those are some of my more generic samples. I’ve got a book you can check if you’re in the market. Unless you’ve already got something specific in mind? 

<My eyes raked shamelessly up and down his body, taking stock of the canvas, before heading home to his eyes. I didn’t have to wonder if the charge I was feeling between us was legit. I knew it. If he had come for some ink and a fuck, I’d be happy to indulge his pleasure, even if it wasn’t in store for me… there’s no way I wouldn’t enjoy it.> 

Atticus: 

-The weight of this guy’s stare left me feeling some kind of way. At first, I thought I might be getting one of those he’s into you vibes, but then he answered my question and doubt began to creep back in. Maybe he was one of those people who were far too perceptive and he could smell the scent of wannabe all over me. 

No, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t interested in getting a tattoo, which was how I felt before I opened the door. I just wanted to have a conversation. Seemed the only way for me to do that without him getting annoyed that I was wasting his time so close to the end of the day was to keep looking at his work. I could do that, wanted to, actually. 

I shook my head, answering as honestly and non-committal as possible as his gaze hit me with a pointed once over. All right. I knew that look. I had given it out a time or two myself. I felt more confident as I found my voice again.- 

No. I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m not exactly the type to just fill my skin with ink. -I paused and considered how my words sounded then quickly added to it so as not to insult the guy who clearly had no problem filling his own skin with ink which I suddenly wanted to check out every bit of.- I mean, not without research, that is. I’d love to see your book. 

-As he guided me to where a few different books sat on top of the glass countertop, I noticed each one had a different name on the spine. The one he gave me said Madyx. I grinned at him again and flipped open the cover. There were pages of photos of tattoos done on people. Some pages had drawings, too, and I took my time looking at each one. The silence between us was comfortable and easy. When my eyes landed on a particularly colourful image that took up someone’s entire back I paused to study it.- Wow. This one must have taken quite a while. Your work is incredible, Madyx. 

-I chanced a glance his way as I said his name so he knew I wasn’t just blowing smoke up his ass, before looking back down and flipping another page. I was beginning to feel like I was leading him on knowing I wasn’t going to be in town long enough to commit any kind of time like that, even if I did want ink. Which in the three minutes since I last asked myself, still hadn’t changed. I couldn’t pull the trigger on something that permanent. Plus, a tattoo that large would have taken more than one session, I knew that much. As I shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out how to let him know I was sorry to have wasted his time, the light caught something below the glass counter. It was a showcase of sorts filled with what I assumed was body jewelry. My stomach lurched and adrenaline surged through my veins. I’d always been interested in getting a piercing, maybe...it was far less permanent than ink and wouldn’t take even a fraction of time.- 

Do you only do tattoos? -Sliding the book to the side a little, I checked out the display of hardware with more than the curious interest I had previously given to his artwork.- 

Madyx:

<Gorgeous seemed to be stalling. I sensed a reluctance I couldn’t quite define. I was starting to think it was definitely his first time, or maybe he was just feeling out the idea. BULLSEYE. He admitted as much by answering that he wasn’t the type to fill his skin with ink, but I wasn’t offended, nope. His eyes seemed to reflexively land on my own collection of pieces, and I wanted to invite him to gawk with those blues all he wanted. 

I didn’t care if he didn’t want any work only that it might end up in him leaving sooner rather than later. I was not down with that. I almost missed when he caught his self-perceived fuck up, but was nearly punch-drunk when he took me up on the offer to check out my book. Normally I wouldn’t waste someone’s time if they weren’t actually intent on letting me scratch my artistic itch, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave and, duh, same page. 

I handed off the book and he seemed to be truly checking it out. There was an excitement for me, one I hadn’t quite tasted. It was a thousand flavors, custom made...meant for me. Yeah, this was hitting way below the epidermis, into the bone, and below the belt, too. When he stopped on the page he did, my gut twisted in the best way, he just so happened to land on the favorite piece I’d ever laid down in ink. It had been inspired by Klimt’s “The Kiss” per the patron’s request, but with several liberties worked into the artistic elements. Instead of an obscure male and female, it was clearly two males. It had morphed from a symbolist piece to something more sci-fi and steampunk.  There were three dimensional aspects and an inordinate amount of intricate details, like any provoking piece, it begged look after look. In total it had taken 36 hours in six sessions. I would have got lost thinking about it if something else hadn’t caught my attention - my name. The intention in his tone was unmistakable. Now we were getting somewhere.

I didn’t even care that we didn’t discuss that tatt he’d stopped on, it was logged into the distant past when his attention shifted to the display of body jewelry. I walked to the opposite side of the counter, light shining up from the backlit case, we were closer to face to face and hell-to-the-yes; I saw the change in his posture. We were REALLY getting somewhere. 

I handle the piercings, too. <clearing the space of the books for the full view> But before we get to that, we need to level the playing field. Got a name or should I just call you gorgeous? 

Atticus:

-Generally speaking, I was not always very quick to pick up the cues when someone was flirting with me. It usually took a couple of are they or aren’t they moments before I caught on and then properly joined in on the exchange of the flirting game. Tonight it only took me two of those moments. First when I caught sight of him looking me over and then again, just now when he called me gorgeous. 

My grin at Madyx was instant and interested as I answered, holding out my hand to him for a shake, as proper dudes do.- Atticus. 

-When his hand slid into mine, I gave it a solid squeeze, and chanced a light brush of my thumb over the back of his before releasing it. His hand was warm and slightly rough on the palm, not at all unpleasant, the kind of hand that knew how to do hard work and wasn’t afraid of it. Not at all like my paper-pushing, then couch lazing hands. The most work mine had been doing lately had been flicking a signal indicator for left and right. 

As I returned my attention back to the display of body jewelry, I briefly thought about the other places I might enjoy the rough grip of his hands and damn near groaned. My dick was more than on board and before I could pitch any kind of tents of embarrassment, I considered piercing the damn thing just to get it to go back down. As far as ideas one might think about to initiate a cooling down effect on their body, this one should have worked for bringing my semi back to completely flaccid. Should have. 

It didn’t. 

The more I imagined Madyx jamming a needle through my most sensitive flesh, the more my pulse quickened and the more I discovered that I liked the idea. Fuck. Guess my body had decided for me. I now only needed to man up and tell the guy what I wanted. Vocalization time. If I couldn’t ask for the damn piercing, I did not deserve to have his hands on me, and that, judging by the sinking pit my stomach had just become was not at all what I wanted. 

Given how everything else I had done since rolling into this town has been on impulse decision making, I let my mouth run without much consultation with my brain, and hoped for the best.-

I’d like to be handled. -Welp. That was a wide open innuendo of his own words that couldn’t be taken back now. Guess I wasn’t going with my usual subtle approach, then again, nothing about this encounter was close to my usual.- A piercing, maybe two? Do you have time tonight? I noticed the sign said you were closing right away. I can always come back tomorrow if you need to close up and get out of here... 

-I wouldn’t keep him if he had somewhere else to be, but I really didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, I was too afraid of losing my nerve or even worse, waking up having decided I suddenly wanted an entire back piece devoted to body piercings. I shuddered at that particular thought before shaking my head, waiting to see if he was game for some over time before I even broached the topic of where I wanted him to pierce me.-     

Madyx:

<There was the grin again, but this one drew me in like it was baited with something addictive. I wanted a taste. I also wanted to hear him say my name again, that was until he told me his. 

 Atticus. 

As if I wasn’t already in deep shit with the grin, he had to go and share a name with one of my favorite literary characters. I wanted to roll it around in my brain on a loop, then say it out loud so I could see how it would feel in the slide off my tongue.  I swallowed thickly and dropped my hand into the one he offered for a shake, setting off a chain reaction I had in no way expected. 

Our hands fit like they belonged to each other, his warmth matched mine but his skin was smoother, more pliant. My eyes hit his just as I felt the subtle stroke of his thumb on mine. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and an electrifying buzz scaled my spine, then split and radiated north, east, south and west. My heart started to race in an erratic beat against my rib cage. When heat balled in my gut and prickled along the underside of my dick, it finally registered what was going on. Pleasure had always been my gift, but I had only played delivery boy and spectator so I hadn’t immediately recognized my receptivity. And it was specifically something about him…. I could feel his desire commingling with mine, the energy and tension between us behaving like a magnet...SNAP. 

Shit. For the first time in my life I was on the other side of the glass I’d always looked through. He was human, it shouldn’t be possible, but his singular, innocent touch had been undeniably thrill inducing. My mind and body were both fully engaged. If it wasn’t for the loss of his hand and his next words, I probably would have stood there in silence like a mooning asshat…. Lost in his eyes and all that.

But, HELLO, he wanted to be handled. I crossed my arms casually over my chest and couldn’t suppress the sideways smirk that came on quick. I’d handle him all he wanted, and with curiosity layering on top of the attraction to him, I wasn’t going to be shy. 

I kept getting hit with solid signals from him, they were unlike anything I’d ever felt, and somehow I knew he was also outside of his norm, but completely natural.  My attention perked when he brought up piercings and something about coming back tomorrow. 

Time to perish that thought. 

Shaking my head, I dropped my hands in a wide sprawl on the display case, leaning towards him.> 

I’ve got the time and my place is just upstairs. So what do you want, Atticus? <The question was meant to be overt and open ended. And if I loved learning his name… saying it packed a thousand times the punch.>  And for the record, I’d love to handle you. <It was shameless and I was not at all sorry.>

Atticus:

-He lived upstairs...I laughed at the immediate thoughts that came to mind then shook my head slowly, speaking quickly before he could get any kind of insulted.- 

Seems for the moment we are neighbours, Madyx. -The hand that had just held his, because of course I would now be differentiating my hands by whether or not they had touched him, lifted and I thumbed over my shoulder to my van parked out front. As his eyes moved to where I had indicated, I stared at the way his lips curved up at the corners and my fingers twitched at my sides wanting nothing more than to touch him again. 

Since it was generally frowned upon to yank a guy I’d just met over the counter and kiss him without giving him any kind of forewarning or chance to stop me, I cleared my throat and attempted to redirect my wayward thoughts back to what we had been talking about. He’d asked me a question and the proper thing to do was answer it. What did I want? 

I knew what I wanted… HIM. But that wasn’t what he’d been asking no matter HOW suggestive his voice had sounded to my ears.

In my early twenties I had looked into piercings, researched all the types and varieties a guy could get as a means of using the knowledge to impress this one chick I had liked when I overheard her talking about how hot guys who had them were. It even worked, up to a point. Turned out, simply knowing about piercings was much different than actually having them, and when she discovered I didn’t actually have any, her interest in me wavered and she quickly moved on. At that point, I didn’t see the need to get anything done since I had started out wanting to impress her, my intentions had been shallow, and lacked the intent to follow through. But now...now, my intentions were less fueled with wanting to impress someone I was attracted to and more about self-discovery. 

Tonight, the idea of getting a piercing made me feel more alive than I had in years. It was the right reason to pull the trigger on this. The gut churning excitement was the same I felt when I had called the number on the FOR SALE sign that had been hanging on the window the day I decided to buy my van. I was immediately grateful to the chick of my early twenties for having inspired me to do all that research, even if her rejection had been a blow to my fragile, immature ego. 

Was I being impulsive now? Absolutely. But I already knew I wouldn’t regret this which was why without any uncertainty colouring my voice, my gaze found Madyx’s and I grinned confidently as I told him exactly what I wanted.-

I’d like the first two rungs of Jacob’s Ladder. 

-I knew what I was asking for, and I hoped like hell the nickname for frenum piercings hadn’t changed in the years since I had done all that research. If it had, I fully expected him to laugh in my face and tell me to get my wannabe ass the hell out. I held my breath, and counted the thuds of my pulse as they wooshed in my ears feeling less and less confident in my answer as the seconds passed by that it took him to speak.- 

Madyx:

<There were several impulsive words trying to fly off my tongue, but I was biding my time. I glanced past him when he indicated he was my neighbor, noting the tell tale silhouette of his VW bus. Currently nomadic, likely sleeping on a less than comfy mattress in the name of experience.  The mentality someone must possess to live on impulse was a turn on, and it worked in my favor. Without knowing it, he was feeding me information and arming my artillery with all kinds of weapons to extend the night…because without explanation, I just wanted more with him. More time. More touch. MORE. 

Atticus was setting off signals like flares in a moonless night, the attraction was undeniably mutual. I knew it, but did he? He would, I wasn’t letting him out of my company without shooting my shot. . My sensory grid was lighting up in a bright spectrum of greens, this was something fae only experienced in the rarest of circumstances. I knew what it meant but couldn’t delve into all that mythology on the spot. 

Fuck that. I was just going to go with it. 

And then he said it. What he wanted. 

I knew there was more by the way his eyes flicked over my lips and the unequivocal energy that told me he was using restraint. 

My brows shot up in reaction. My grin stretched a little wider. My dick bucked in my jeans clearly in support of this development. I toed the line of professionalism in my day to day operations, but this was beyond that. I couldn’t stop thinking about getting his cock out of his pants. With a casual swipe of my tongue between my lips, I opened the case, pulling out the options so we could get down to business. I knew he wasn’t going to run. I’d bet on it.>

You have piercings I can’t see? Or do I get first honors? 

<fingering a few of the barbells to draw his eyes down, even though I loved the heat of them on me> Are you thinking the same size for each? Or a descending size?  Grooved balls? <I smirked, couldn’t help it>  Smooth? 

We’ll get to gauge when I see what we’re working with, Atticus. 

<I loved his name too fucking much and still wanted to say it a thousand different ways just to know how it felt on my tongue, lips and in every incarnation. And yeah, I wanted him to know I had his dick on my mind, front and center. With every tick of the second hand, the tension was on the rise, and I was thriving in anticipation of reaching the breaking point.>

Atticus:

-Just as my lungs were beginning to burn for fresh oxygen, he spoke, and I exhaled slowly, controlling myself from letting out a sigh of relief so as not to let on how unsure of myself I had been feeling. There was no laughter or smirking from him that told me I had used an outdated slang. Excellent. I was starting to feel less and less like a poser with each follow up question he asked. He was very clearly taking my request seriously though I was not blind to the less than subtle moments of flirtation he was allowing to slip out with each exchange between us. And I was about to let him see my dick. I almost laughed. I held it in. Barely. 

It was my turn to speak. Right, he needed answers. I could give those. With a grin and a rub of my hands together I chuckled as I got the first question squared away.- No. I don’t have any other piercings. You’re my first, Mad. 

-My eyes dropped down to the tray of hardware he removed from the display case, ears working overtime to hear each of his rapid fire queries that I was delayed in noticing I had already shortened his name from Madyx to Mad. Both suited him, but if he was about to get face up in my junk without it being sexual I figured it was all right for me to shorten his name without expressed permission, that was how nicknames were supposed to happen anyway.- 

Size. I hadn’t really considered that when I went and got overzealous with my request for two piercings. -Laughing low, my eyes moved between the various sizes of barbells he was showing me before making up my mind with ease.- 

I want them to be the same. As far as accessories go, I’m a bit of a minimalist and the idea of gradually increasing seems a bit pompous if not arrogant to me. I can only imagine the size needed at the base if I went and got the great idea to complete the ladder. FUCK. -A shudder of regret for future me shot down my spine then ricocheted straight into the tip of my dick. All previous arousal swifty vacated my body and in a hurry. Decision made.- Yeah. definitely the same size. And smooth. 

I also know enough from my research ages ago to know I won’t be looking to stretch out the gauge, either. No matter how fast these particular piercings tend to heal, I don’t want my dick to become a branch of a Christmas tree, sagging under the weight of a too heavy ornament. God, can you even imagine?! -The mental images that began to fill my mind had me laughing again.- Otherwise, any other decisions needing made, I will heed to your expert opinion. 

Madyx:

<I caught his exhale and something about it felt like he was relieved, as if he’d just confessed a long held desire for the first time, and maybe I wasn’t so off the mark as he answered that I was his first. I didn’t have time for a smart ass remark about popping his cherry because of what he said right after. 

Mad. He called me Mad. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, as if a hand had ghosted upwards, calling it to attention. The sensation carried up into my scalp, and even to the tips of my ears. How was it that something so damn simple was so affecting with him? It wasn’t the first time since he walked in my shop, and the longer he stayed, the more I was convinced there was more of it in store.

I took him in as he weighed his options out loud, none of his choices surprising me. I figured he’d want something understated,  but I didn’t want to assume out loud and then have him reveal his elaborate plans for a rainbow ladder with alternating barbells down the back of his cock. That would have been a grave mistake! 

I laughed my ass off when he referenced a Christmas tree sagging under the weight of a heavy ornament from sizing up the gauges, unable to stop myself.>

If the piercings look like too heavy ornaments and your dick a limp tree after piercings, then someone doesn’t know shit about shit when it comes to proper technique. 

You’re in good hands, Atticus. I promise you that. <I flicked my eyes up to hopefully catch his, and thankfully I didn’t miss my target.> First, proper frenum piercings need to hit at the right depth to avoid that unfortunate look. Second, and counterintuitively, because of the skin, we’ll want to use a heavier gauge. With a lighter weight, during the healing process, it would push towards the surface, also resulting in the wrong appearance and a damn inconvenient dangling effect that could lead to unfortunate zipping incidents. 

<Laughing, it was a feat to drop my eyes from his as I started selecting options to suit his taste>

You’ll want to consider width dependent on your head. Sight unseen, I think this brushed steel goes with your vibe. 

You also have options when it comes to the size of the balls. <smirking, I laid a few out> You don’t have to decide standing here, we’ll bring them over to my station and you can see what looks right to you. 

You ready? Need a beer? Something stronger?  <My mouth on your cock to ease any nerves? I kept that last one on lockdown, lifting a brow, as I anxiously waited for his reply>

Atticus:

-My previously lost arousal was swiftly returning, and reaching tenting trouble territory when Madyx promised I’d be in good hands. Wouldn’t I just love to be in his hands. I stared at them while he sorted through the barbells, selecting some he thought would work. Long fingers, nimble and sure in their movements. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now was not the time to learn I had a kink for hands, I’d never felt that way before, maybe they were just his hands I was lusting after, particularly when paired with this whole conversation that felt heavy with an undercurrent of attraction. I couldn’t deny it was flowing in both directions. He was making it pretty obvious, where I would have normally brushed it off as him being friendly in the beginning, I’d have to be blind to not see it now. I was damn sure seeing it. 

Things were about to get very awkward if I didn’t get control over my body. I was a magnet drawn to a piece of metal, desperate to move closer, to obtain that satisfying click when the connection was finally made. 

What was my life right now? 

How could, of all the places I decided to stop on a whim have this guy right here, and have this kind of mutual attraction happen so effortlessly. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that way toward someone and have them return it. Years, for sure. Many years. My eye was not exactly particular, it checked out chicks and dudes equally, but it took a lot to make me want a second glance.  

Then he had to go and talk about ball sizing while smirking at me. I was starting to suspect he was playing with me. Cat toying with a mouse. Taunting my dick with his innuendo, coaxing it to come out of hiding and play his game. Did I want to? DUH. There was no denying how much I wanted to do just that. 

But how does one go from piercing consultation to...Hey, you give me a boner, wanna hook up? Yeah…..no. He was hot, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was hit on all the time. Likely every day. I was certain of it. I didn’t want to be just some lame customer who was looking for an after hours special with the good looking tattoo shop guy. 

Could I be any more of a cliche. I prided myself on being nothing of the sort...well I kind of was with my current on trend living in a van and travelling lifestyle. The only points working in my favour there was that I hadn’t documented a single moment of it outside of the memories in my mind. I wasn’t the next Van Guy with the Instagram worthy morning shots overlooking the ocean while holding a cup of coffee and casually displaying my abs for more likes. A thirst trap, I was not. I had higher standards than that. 

Questions were being sent my way. Was I ready? What a loaded thing to ask, I laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as choked off to him as it did to my ears.- Yes. I’m ready. I’m good on the beer, for now. I think. 

-I laughed again, this time it felt a little looser passing over my lips and I looked down at the tray of jewelry once more then looked back up at him, eyes finding his. Before I could stop myself, words tumbled out without much control over the content or how they’d be received, now was not the time to have shame or embarrassment, I needed to know if the situation in my jeans could be salvaged.- I once read that when getting dick tattoos, you had to be hard the whole time. Is the same true for piercings? 

Madyx:

<The energy smacking me around was nothing I’d ever come across. Fuck. It was inexplicably intense, like we were plugged into each other and exchanging a charge. I was still mind-blown by what he was putting out. His subconscious and deep-seated pleasures were stimulating mine, as if they were dependent on one another. When I caught moments of him looking at me, my body reacted and my heart was thumping, driven by the physical and not so physical. I shut-up the internal analysis as much as I could and focused on what was in front of me. 

Atticus was definitely anticipating, his excitement laced with nervousness inciting my extra fae receptors into overdrive. He covered pretty well, but his flustered laugh made me want to drop my jeans on the spot. I was stoked he’d declined the drink, especially since he’d slipped with the “for now.” Bingo. That was enough to confirm he wasn’t looking to bolt after I got up and personal with his cock. 

The jewelry out, I let my attention land squarely back on him while he entertained what I’d displayed. It gave me a chance to scope the strong, lithe line of his back, and the sharp cut of his scruffed jaw. Hell, with every fresh recognition of his attributes, his hotness was intensifying right along with my craving for a thorough taste. While I had this fuck-me revelation, he was quiet, probably thinking about the dual-punctures I was about to put through his cock.  I knew something was coming but the smirk that happened when he asked his question could not be helped.>

I’d like to see someone keep it hard through an entire inking. It only needs to be up for the stencil portion of the tattoo, after that there are creative ways to stretch a dick for the shading. As for you… <pursing my lips then rubbing them together> I’ll get the job done either way, as long as I can pinch the skin, I can pierce it. Generally, there’s more to work with when it’s not at attention. Chew on that and follow me.

 <My smirk widened just before I broke eye contact and grabbed the tray of jewelry.  Cocking my head in the direction of my station and the chair that would have him slightly reclined when he planted ass in it. I set the tray down and waited for him to get situated while I snapped on my gloves. When I turned around,shit, my eyes went straight south where it was hard to miss what was happening behind his zipper and before I could blow it, my eyes shot back to his. I couldn’t seem to stop doing that. I also couldn’t repress the urge to set him at ease and give him something to grab onto during this prelude to a pierce. 

Playing it cool, casual, intent on finessing my approach, I took a seat on my stool, which kept us at eye level with one another. I knew he wanted this in my bones, but I was feeling the nerves from the risk of it. I stepped over the edge and took the cliff dive, the words passing over my lips as I felt a rush from the free fall.> How about you don’t leave after we’re done with business. <It was a question, but the way it came out sounded more like a statement. Unintentional. Organic. Assured. I dropped my eyes to his cock before they raked back up his body...to his suckable throat...his full lips...and back home to his grey-blue eyes.>

Atticus: 

-“Chew on that and follow me.” Shit. He knew. He had to. There was no way he couldn’t tell I was already sporting wood. When he turned his back to me and headed to his station, I tried to chill myself the fuck out. Naturally my eyes landed on his ass and the fire that was in my veins ignited to an inferno and I knew there would be no way to get the blood to vacate my cock. This was going to be embarrassing for at least one of us in a couple of moments. 

Did it matter though? I was just passing through town, at least that had been the plan when I entered the shop. I came in here looking for a conversation with another person and now I was about to leave with some metal accessories. I shook my head as I took a seat on the chair he wanted me in and took a few deeper breaths trying to slow the thundering of my heart. 

I wasn’t shy about my body, never had been, but damn if I wasn’t worried about how he’d react when he took notice that I was more than eager to have his hands on me. Could I explain it away with a joke about being a masochist? Maybe, but it wasn’t true, not by the definition of the word. 

As I spent precious time fretting in my mind he had turned around from setting down the tray and...YEP. I watched as Mad got himself an eyeful and like the professional I already figured he was, his gaze moved right past my crotch and straight up to my face. 

He didn’t laugh. Or smile or even make a comment. The flirting that had been so natural halted. I didn’t know what to do with that. I was suddenly feeling overheated in my hoodie while worry about insulting him began to cycle through my mind, of course that was when things started to chill out for me in trouser tent town. I reconsidered the whole masochist angle again just to try and break the silence but shook my head to myself. It wouldn’t matter in a day or two or a week. I’d carry on with my drive and he’d have a story to tell his coworkers tomorrow. I was fine being a laughable story. 

Before I could find something casual to say, he sucker punched me with that line of staying after he was done and I briefly wondered if he was trying to throw me a bone because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t think so. The tension between us had been palpable from the start. I nodded at his non-question.- Yeah. I’d like that. Though we both know you already know that I would. 

-I laughed low as his eyes did another sweep and the previously cooling jets fired right back up again. Jesus. When did I become a thirteen year old boy seeing his first dirty magazine. I reached up behind my neck as I sat forward in the chair and pulled my hoodie off over my head, draping it on the arm of my chair, leaving me in my well worn white tee that was underneath. 

There was no point in trying to hide shit, the elephant in the room had been noticed, spoken about and well acknowledged, not to mention Mad was about to shake hands with the trunk. I blew out a breath, feeling all embarrassment sliding away as easily as I had taken off my hoodie, and grinned at him.- Let’s get to you shoving some needles through my family jewels so we can have that beer you mentioned.

[howlermemes]

                                       𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭                                                l  y  r  i  c    s  t  a  r  t  e  r  s

✽  long post ahead bc i have no self control ! ✽  change pronouns / punctuation as needed . ✽  some lyrics are explicit. ✽  some themes are slightly darker. ✽  alteratively, send    ♫ 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎    to have a lyric automatically generated & said to your muse instead .

[ track 01 ]   the 1 ❛ I'm doing good! I'm on some new shit. ❜ ❛ I thought I saw you at the bus stop. ❜ ❛ I hit the ground running each night. ❜ ❛ You know, the greatest films of all time were never made. ❜ ❛ If you wanted me, you really should have showed. ❜ ❛ If you never bleed, you're never gonna grow. ❜ ❛ It's alright now. ❜ ❛ We were something, don't you think so? ❜ ❛ If my wishes came true, it would have been you. ❜ ❛ In my defense — I have none for never leaving well enough alone. ❜ ❛ It would have been fun if you would have been the one. ❜ ❛ I had this dream you're doing cool shit, having adventures on your own. ❜ ❛ We never painted by the numbers, baby. ❜ ❛ We were making it count. ❜ ❛ You know the greatest loves of all time are over now. ❜ ❛ I guess you never know. ❜ ❛ It's another day of waking up alone. ❜ ❛ If one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ❜ ❛ It would have been sweet if it could've been me. ❜ ❛ In my defense, I have none for digging up the grave another time. ❜

[ track 02 ]   cardigan ❛ When you are young, they assume you know nothing. ❜ ❛ Baby, kiss it better. ❜ ❛ I was your favorite. ❜ ❛ A friend to all is a friend to none. ❜ ❛ Chase two girls, lose the one. ❜ ❛ To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed. ❜ ❛ You drew stars around my scars and now I'm bleeding. ❜ ❛ I knew you tried to change the ending. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs. ❜ ❛ I knew everything when I was young. ❜ ❛ I knew I'd curse you for the longest time. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standing in my front porch light. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd come back to me. ❜

[ track 03 ]   the last great american dynasty ❛ How did a middle-class divorcee do it? ❜ ❛ The wedding was a charming, if a little gauche. ❜ ❛ There's only so far new money goes. ❜ ❛ Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud. ❜ ❛ It must have been her fault his heart gave out. ❜ ❛ There goes the last great American dynasty. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if she never showed up, what could have been. ❜ ❛ There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen. ❜ ❛ They say she was seen on occasion, pacing the rocks, staring out the sea. ❜ ❛ In a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green. ❜ ❛ Fifty years is a long time. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time ruining everything. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time. ❜

[ track 04 ]   exile ❛ I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body. ❜ ❛ I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. ❜ ❛ You're not my homeland anymore. ❜ ❛ What am I defending now? ❜ ❛ You were my town. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy, like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ You'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ Those eyes add insult to injury. ❜ ❛ I'm not your problem anymore. ❜ ❛ Who am I offending now? ❜ ❛ You were my crown. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I'm leaving out the side door. ❜ ❛ There is no amount of crying I can do for you. ❜ ❛ All this time, we always walked a very thin line. ❜ ❛ You didn't even hear me out. ❜ ❛ You never gave a warning sign. ❜ ❛ I gave so many signs. ❜ ❛ All this time, I never learned to read your mind. ❜ ❛ I couldn't turn things around. ❜ ❛ You never turned things around. ❜ ❛ You didn't even see the signs. ❜

[ track 05 ]   my tears ricochet ❛ If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too. ❜ ❛ Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe — all the hell you gave me? ❜ ❛ I loved you, I swear I loved you, until my dying day. ❜ ❛ I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. ❜ ❛ You're the hero flying around, saving face. ❜ ❛ If I'm dead to you, why were you at the wake? ❜ ❛ Look at how my tears ricochet. ❜ ❛ We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. ❜ ❛ You know I didn't want to have to haunt you. ❜ ❛ What a ghostly scene. ❜ ❛ You used to tell me I was brave. ❜ ❛ I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home. ❜ ❛ You can aim for my heart — go for blood. ❜ ❛ You would still miss me in your bones. ❜ ❛ I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky. ❜ ❛ You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. ❜ ❛ You turned into your worst fears. ❜ ❛ You're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years. ❜

[ track 06 ]   mirrorball ❛ I'll show you every version of yourself tonight. ❜ ❛ When I break, it's a million pieces. ❜ ❛ Hush. ❜ ❛ You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes, spinning in my highest heels, love — shining just for you. ❜ ❛ I know they said the end is near. ❜ ❛ I can change everything about me to fit in. ❜ ❛ You're not like the regulars. ❜ ❛ I'm still on that tightrope. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me. ❜ ❛ I'm still a believer, but I don't know why. ❜ ❛ I've never been a natural. ❜ ❛ All I do is try, try, try. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me. ❜

[ track 07 ]   seven ❛ Please picture me in the trees. ❜ ❛ I hit my peak at seven, feet in the swing over the creek. ❜ ❛ I was too scared to jump in, but I was high in the sky. ❜ ❛ Are there still beautiful things? ❜ ❛ Cross your heart. ❜ ❛ Though I can't recall your face, I still got love for you. ❜ ❛ Love you to the moon and to Saturn. ❜ ❛ The love lasts so long. ❜ ❛ I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. ❜ ❛ Your dad is always mad. ❜ ❛ I think you should come live with me. ❜ ❛ We can be pirates! ❜ ❛ You won't have to cry or hide in the closet. ❜ ❛ Our love will be passed on. ❜ ❛ I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted. ❜ ❛ Pack your dolls and a sweater. ❜

[ track 08 ]   august ❛ Salt air and the rust on your door — I never needed anything more. ❜ ❛ I can see us lost in the memory. ❜ ❛ August slipped away into a moment in time, because it was never mine. ❜ ❛ I was see us twisted in bedsheets. ❜ ❛ August sipped away like a bottle of wine, because you were never mine. ❜ ❛ Will you call me when you're back at school? ❜ ❛ I remember thinking I had you. ❜ ❛ It was never mine. ❜ ❛ You were never mine. ❜ ❛ For me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all. ❜ ❛ I canceled plans just in case you'd call. ❜ ❛ Meet me behind the mall. ❜ ❛ So much for summer love and saying "us". ❜ ❛ You weren't mine to lose. ❜ ❛ Do you remember? ❜ ❛ Remember when I pulled up and said "Get in the car." ❛ I was living for the hope of it all. ❜

[ track 09 ]   this is me trying ❛ I've been having a hard time adjusting. ❜ ❛ I didn't know if you'd care if I came back. ❜ ❛ I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ Maybe I don't quite know what to say. ❜ ❛ I'm here in your doorway. ❜ ❛ I just wanted you to know this is me trying. ❜ ❛ I got wasted like all my potential. ❜ ❛ My words shoot to kill when I'm mad. I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. ❜ ❛ I ended up here, pouring my heart out to a stranger. ❜ ❛ I didn't pour the whiskey. ❜ ❛ At least I'm trying. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. ❜ ❛ You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town. ❜

[ track 10 ]   illicit affairs ❛ Make sure nobody sees you leave. ❜ ❛ Tell your friends you're out for a run. ❜ ❛ You'll be flushed when you return. ❜ ❛ Take the road less traveled by. ❜ ❛ Tell yourself you can always stop. ❜ ❛ What started in beautiful rooms, ends with meeting in parking lots. ❜ ❛ That's the thing about illicit affairs — and clandestine meetings and longing stares. ❜ ❛ It's born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times. ❜ ❛ You leave no trace behind. ❜ ❛ Take the words for what they are — a dwindling mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times. ❜ ❛ They show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie. A million little times. ❜ ❛ Don't call me "kid". ❜ ❛ Don't call me "baby". ❜ ❛ Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. ❜ ❛ You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else. ❜ ❛ Look at this idiotic fool that you made me. ❜ ❛ You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. ❜ ❛ You know damn well, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times. ❜

[ track 11 ]   invisible string ❛ I used to think I would meet somebody there. ❜ ❛ Teal was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the yogurt shop. ❜ ❛ Time, curious time. ❜ ❛ Were there clues I didn't see? ❜ ❛ Isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? ❜ ❛ You ate at my favorite spot for dinner. ❜ ❛ She said I looked like an American singer. ❜ ❛ Time, mystical time — cutting me open, then healing me fine. ❜ ❛ Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. ❜ ❛ One single thread of gold tied me to you. ❜ ❛ Gold was the color of the leaves when you around Centennial Park. ❜ ❛ Hell was the journey, but it brought me to heaven. ❜ ❛ Time, wondrous time, gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies. ❜ ❛ It's cool, baby, with me. ❜

[ track 12 ]   mad woman ❛ What did you think I'd say to that? ❜ ❛ Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? ❜ ❛ They strike to kill, and you know I will. ❜ ❛ What do you sing on your drive home? ❜ ❛ Do you see my face in the neighbors lawn? ❜ ❛ Fuck you forever. ❜ ❛ Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy. ❜ ❛ When you say I seem angry, I get more angry. ❜ ❛ There's nothing like a mad woman. ❜ ❛ What a shame she went mad. ❜ ❛ No one likes a mad woman. You made her like that. ❜ ❛ You'll poke that bear 'till her claws come out and you find something to wrap your noose around. ❜ ❛ I breathe flames each time I talk. ❜ ❛ They say "Move On," but you know I won't. ❜ ❛ Women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you. ❜ ❛ It's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together. ❜ ❛ I'm taking my time. ❜ ❛ You took everything from me. ❜ ❛ She should be mad, should be scathing like me. ❜

[ track 13 ]   epiphany ❛ I think he's bleeding out. ❜ ❛ Some things you just can't speak about. ❜ ❛ With you, I serve. With you, I fall down. ❜ ❛ I think she's crashing out. ❜ ❛ Only twenty minutes to sleep. ❛ You dream of some epiphany — just one single glimpse of relief. ❜

[ track 14 ]   betty ❛ I won't make assumptions. ❜ ❛ I think it's because of me. ❜ ❛ One time, I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house. ❜ ❛ It's like I couldn't breathe. ❜ ❛ You heard the rumors. ❜ ❛ You can't believe a word she says most times. But this time, it was true. ❜ ❛ The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you. ❜ ❛ If I just showed up at your party, would you have me? ❜ ❛ Would you want me? ❜ ❛ Would you tell me to go fuck myself? ❜ ❛ In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was a just a summer thing? ❜ ❛ I'm only seventeen. I don't know anything. ❜ ❛ I don't know anything, but I know I miss you. ❜ ❛ I know where it all went wrong. ❜ ❛ I was nowhere to be found. ❜ ❛ I hate crowds. You know that. ❜ ❛ I saw you dance with him. ❜ ❛ I was walking home on broken cobblestones, just thinking of you. ❛ She pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. ❜ ❛ Get in. Let's drive. ❜ ❛ I dreamt of you all summer long. ❜ ❛ I planned it out for weeks now. ❜ ❛ It's finally sinking in. ❜ ❛ Right now is the last time. ❜ ❛ I can dream about what happens when you can see my face again. ❜ ❛ The only thing I wanna do is make it up to you. ❜ ❛ Will you have me? ❜ ❛ Will you love me? ❜ ❛ Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? ❜ ❛ If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? ❜ ❛ I don't know anything. ❜

[ track 15 ]   peace ❛ Our coming-of-age has come and gone. ❜ ❛ I never had the courage of my convictions, as long as danger is near. ❜ ❛ It's just around the corner, darlin. ❜ ❛ I could never give you peace. ❜ ❛ I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm. ❜ ❛ All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret. ❜ ❛ The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me. ❜ ❛ Would it be enough if I could never give you peace? ❜ ❛ Your integrity makes me seem small. ❜ ❛ I talk shit with my friends. It's like I'm wasting your honor. ❜ ❛ Is it enough? ❜ ❛ I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best. ❜ ❛ The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. ❜

[ track 16 ]   hoax ❛ This has broken me down. ❜ ❛ This has frozen my ground. ❜ ❛ Give me a reason. ❜ ❛ Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in. ❜ ❛ Don't want no other shade of blue, but you. ❜ ❛ No other sadness in the world would do. ❜ ❛ I am ash from your fire. ❜ ❛ You know I left a part of me back in New York. ❜ ❛ You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for? ❜ ❛ You knew it still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score? ❜ ❛ It still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ What you did was just as dark. ❜ ❛ Darling, this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart. ❜

[captcas]

illicit affairs

illicit affairs by capthamm

They’ve talked about it at nauseum, but it doesn’t make it any easier. The set-ups and glares from their friends at the constant “not interested”s. The fake first dates and the constant sneaking around… she wouldn’t trade a second of it.

part two of capthamm’s captain swan’s folklore read on ao3 / read the ao3 series / read invisible string

Hoping for any reprieve from the cold, Emma pulls down the ends of her ¾ length sleeves and tucks her fists into her elbows. Bouncing lightly on her toes she curses him under her breath, “Killian, where the fuck are you?” She turns to her left mid-pace and slams into something solid.

The overwhelmingly familiar scent of saltwater and vanilla body wash overcomes her.

Before she can think, two rough hands are grabbing her cheeks and she’s melting into a kiss that feels more like home with every second. All traces of the cold she was so desperate to rid herself of are forgotten, heat sinking to her bones.

When they come up for air Emma speaks first, “You’re late.”

She knows he probably has a good reason, but sometimes their situation makes her act childish.

Killian as chuckles softly, the warmth of his breath tickling her lips where she can still feel the remnants of his kiss. “I know, love. I’m sorry. Liam he–”

She cuts him off with a kiss, “I don’t care. How long do we have?”

His shoulders sag beneath her hands and she knows she isn’t going to like the answer. “Not long, darling.” He steps back, only a few inches, but enough for the chill to return ever so slightly. He brushes the hair out of her eyes and she can see the pain in his.

She hates this too.

They’ve talked about it at nauseum, but it doesn’t make it any easier. The set-ups and glares from their friends at the constant “not interested”s. The fake first dates and the constant sneaking around… she wouldn’t trade a second of it.

Liam had a strict no fraternizing among employee policies. He hired Emma on one condition– Killian was not allowed to fall in love with her. Liam made one fatal error in his offer that day– he didn’t account for the fact that Killian was already in love with Emma.

A loophole KJ points out to Emma every chance he gets.

A secret loophole they spend every single day in.

Their loophole.

Emma met Killian by pure coincidence. Ruby begged her to go to some charity gala and Emma went because she’s pretty sure she owed her one. Killian hating stuffy events as much as she did had them spending most of their night in the same corner… together. Everything after that felt like fate.

She had recently quit her bail bonds job (a skip kicked out one of her teeth and she did not get paid enough for dental surgery) and Killian’s brother was opening a new boat rental company. They needed an office manager and Emma talked up her stapling and faxing skills.

“Do people still use fax machines, Swan?”

“No but I still know how to use one… just in case.”

“Fair enough. For the record, if it were up to me, love, you’d start tomorrow.”

But it wasn’t up to Killian. Liam was guarded (protective) and didn’t like the idea of letting Emma into their small operation. It took four months of her sticking around before Liam even entertained the idea– Killian and her falling into a best friendship as though they’d known each other their whole lives.

Emma didn’t learn about Liam’s one condition until over a year after Killian called her telling her that she got the job.

He asked if she wanted to grab drinks after work and one shot led to another. Soon they were spilling their darkest secrets, both of them blushing when they admitted growing feelings for one another, and Liam’s ultimatum sort of slipped out.

Emma found the loophole.

Now here they are next to a dumpster in the middle of November hoping Liam doesn’t have some huge change of character and actually take the garbage out for once in his life. They’ve never discussed what happens if– when– they get caught.

Emma moved her way up to an event manager and Killian is officially a partner– Liam touting that Killian has to fight for what he wants despite every single one of their clients and friends knowing Killian would be there in no time. They’re both killing it professionally and a lot of that thanks goes to Liam, but their schedules are completely opposite one another.

They don’t have to be, but complaining about it would mean telling Liam about the loophole.

Their loophole.

Them.

And they just aren’t ready to do that… right?

He kisses her one more time, “I’ll come over tonight, love.” Emma nods before pulling herself tight to his chest, letting go only when she feels his Apple Watch buzz against her hip signaling his impending meeting.

She isn’t sure when the official shift happened, but she’ll never forget the first moment she laid eyes on Killian. Something in her gut told her to walk towards him and sit in the empty chair beside him. (Maybe there never really was a shift.) She’s let her gut lead them the rest of the way to where they are now.

Her gut tells her they should come clean.

She doesn’t want to listen this time. As much as sneaking around gets old, Emma’s always held her cards close to her chest. The fear that opening up their relationship to the rest of the world will ruin it is so tangible that it drives Emma to keep up their charade.

Just a bit longer.

Killian has insinuated that he’s following her lead– even offering to march into Liam’s office and confess it all on multiple occasions– but Emma’s not ready.

She’s not ready to risk losing him.

Emma heads up a few minutes after Killian and catches his eye as she enters the small office. He smiles softly and the ache for more is palpable.

She’s not going to lose him.

This moment, one of a million stolen glances between the two of them, isn’t unlike any other, but it brings her an epiphany all the same. Somewhere in the routine of secrecy, Emma grew comfortable, but suddenly it feels like 1,000 needles are pricking every inch of her skin. The comfort vanished and with it came a wave of realization, no matter what Liam says, Killian isn’t going anywhere.

Her feet move before her brain can tell her it's a bad idea. Killian is talking to Liam about the upcoming rental schedule when Emma walks into their shared office, “The Larson’s are taking out the Roger on Tues– Emma, what’re you–” She interrupts him with a kiss for the second time today.

Emma can tell he’s stunned at first but it doesn’t take long for him to smile and kiss back. She probably kisses him longer than appropriate due to the actual fear of what Liam is going to do– technically any kiss is inappropriate but that’s not really the point.

Killian breaks from the kiss first.

“Finally.”

The voice is British, but it isn’t the one she'd recognize in a crowd of thousands.

Killian breaks first again, “Pardon?”

“Bloody took you two long enough! I’ve lost enough money on Ruby’s blasted pools.” Liam points a rolled up piece of paper, previously tucked beneath his armpit, “Just keep it PG at work. I don’t need some HR nightmare.”

Emma is still stunned when Killian speaks again, “Brother…”

Liam looks up, and Emma could swear his eyes are slightly glossy, “Killian, who am I to keep you two apart? Company policies shouldn’t come between what could be a real second chance at love for you both. It’s been painfully obvious you two are into each other. I’m just glad you’re finally acting on it so I don’t have to watch you make eyes from across the office all day.”

Emma flinches at Liam’s casual mention of their pasts, but soon her hand is in Killian’s and she’s reminded her demons can’t hurt her anymore. She beat them, she’s stronger than them, and she shares them now.

It’s then that she finds her voice, “Thank you.”

Liam nods (the only sort of affirmation she’s ever received from the older of the Jones brothers), “Don’t mention it. Just tell Ruby it happened yesterday, then at least she won’t win.” Emma nods in response, and can’t help but glance up at Killian– every trace of pain in his eyes has been replaced with what Emma can only describe as love.

She’s sure her eyes are mirroring his perfectly.

As it turns out, glances are even better not stolen and lunch breaks are much more enjoyable spent far away from dumpsters and cold parking lots.

[hongism]

finding beauty in your darkest places - chapter 9

➻ Pairing: reader x ???

➻ Genre: Psychiatric Clinic!au, Angst, Fluff

➻ Word Count: 5894

➻ Warnings: strong language; deals with mental and emotional illnesses and disorders as a heavy theme of the story, future graphic depictions of disorders - please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable

➻ Rating: PG-13/PG-15

➻ Summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there. aka Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn’t work out according to his plan.

➻ a/n: so i know this has been a loNG ass time coming but here’s chapter 9!!! i hope you all enjoy it, i don’t have much of a preface to this so let’s just jump into it!

8 | 9

...

Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places Chapter Nine: Control

​

"W-What?" Jungkook asks, still in too much shock to think straight or say anything else. You laugh at the expression on his face and release his shirt. Jungkook falls back to the floor unceremoniously, hitting the tile with a small thud, and watches as you stand up straight.

 "Y/N, come on! You can't push him around without warning, the poor kid. You knocked him down too." Seokjin chastises you for your actions, and Jungkook looks back to see the man close behind him. You stick out your tongue in response as you squat down beside Jungkook to be more at eye level with him.

 "I'm certain that I know exactly where Taehyung's bear is." You grin again, the smile unable to be contained, and Jungkook notes that. He notes how the smile reaches your eyes, the usually dull film over them gone and replaced by a shining new resolve. Is it… is it because of the bear?

"Where is it then?" He asks, propping himself up with his hands.

 "It's obvious. I can't believe we didn't look there sooner. I should've known." You stand up straight once more, the smile never leaving your lips as you look down at Jungkook. "Come on, follow me." Jungkook does as asked and hastily gets to his feet. You are already on your way across the room, not waiting to see if Jungkook will follow you or not, and he looks back at Seokjin. The older man merely shrugs.

 "I'll see you later, Jungkook." He waves at the younger before heading in the opposite direction and leaving Jungkook to chase after you.

 "H-Hey, where are we headed?" He asks as he falls into step with you.

 "Oh? The library of course."

 "Why—why would it be there though?"

 "Early on – when Mingyu was still new to the clinic – he would hide things on top of the bookcases in the library because he was always so much taller than most other people. It was rather easy for him to keep things there instead of risking having the nurses find them in his room. Since he never spent time reading, people never assumed that he would keep things there. Namjoon caught him in there once putting things on the top of the shelves and told me about it, so we used to keep an eye on things in there. We never… well, we haven't done that recently because we assumed Mingyu had outgrown his childish shenanigans. But anyway, I should've known that he would've put it there. Makes so much sense looking back on it now."

 "How do you—how did you confirm that it was Mingyu who took it?"

 "There's no need to confirm anything, it was already obvious. Having known Mingyu for so many years now, I guess I could say it's an inevitable outcome." You shrug, slowing your pace a little.

 "You seem very happy about it," Jungkook comments. He realizes a moment later when your expression flattens and turns deadpan that it was the wrong thing to say.

 "Of course I'm happy about it. Taehyung will stop being upset with me once I give him the bear back. Things will go back to normal, and Hoseok will come back to the clinic soon as well. Everything will be fine again. Normal and fixed, at least for the time being."

 Jungkook panics. The black water swirls around his ankles again, he feels its presence looming, feels it biting at his skin, the cold of it sending chills through his whole body. It swells around him, filling his vision until all he can see are your eyes. Your dark eyes filled with hope. Hope that is about to be dashed and crushed and swept away because of his actions. He can't say anything in response, he can't agree with you or offer any encouraging words. He knows things are about to crash and burn. It's about to turn sour, and Jungkook isn't quite sure of what will happen when it all crumbles, but he knows it won't be good for anyone.

 The two of you reach the library as Jungkook's black water reaches his waist. Namjoon sits inside, in the same position he was in the first day Jungkook came to the clinic. Although it was not all too long ago, Jungkook notes that it feels like forever since that day.

 "Oh hi Namjoon," you greet, the small smile returning to your lips. Jungkook hates it. He despises it, realizing that he would rather you be hopeless than see your hopes be crushed by his actions. Selfish. Selfish. "Jungkook, give me a hand and help me reach the shelf, yea?"

 "What are you two doing?" Namjoon asks and snaps the book in his hands shut. You barely spare him a glance as you usher Jungkook towards one of the shelves near the wall.

 "I had an epiphany last night and realized something," you explain.

 "She came to visit Yoongi while I was gone yesterday." Seokjin's words are still fresh in his mind, and they still sting a bit too much for Jungkook's liking. He doesn't bring it up to either you or Namjoon, although it continues to linger in his mind as he watches you glance around the bookcases.

 "Hey, are you gonna help me up, Jungkookie? I think I see something up there." You point to one of the shelves, and Jungkook follows your line of sight to the top of the shelf.

 "Why do you need up there?" Namjoon asks. He sets his book to the side and watches you turn back to look at him.

 "I'm certain that Mingyu put the bear up there. Do you remember what he used to do with the smuggled cigarettes and alcohol?"

 "Yea yea, I remember that. I'll get it for you." He gets up and moves towards where you're standing by the shelves, nudging you aside with his elbow.

 "No, you aren't tall enough to reach the top either," you complain, elbowing him in the side as well.

 "Oh shush, Y/N, I'm gonna help you up." Namjoon catches your elbow before you can hit him again and tugs you closer, then hoists you up by the waist. Jungkook can't do anything except stand back and watch the scene, feeling strangely out of place. "Hey, don't kick me."

 "I didn't mean to!"

 "Sure you didn't."

 "Oh fuck off, Joon. You know I would've kicked a lot harder if I meant it."

 The scene is oddly domestic, something out of place in the clinic, something Jungkook isn't used to seeing or witnessing, and certainly not something he is used to seeing from you and Namjoon. Namjoon laughs at your response and lifts you up a bit higher. You pad around on the top of the shelf, swiping something from the top. It falls to the ground in a cloud of dust. Jungkook blinks down at it, eyes wide.

 Sure enough, there lies a stuffed bear, greyed by dust, and his lips part in shock at the sight of it. Something much smaller lies next to it, also dark with dirt and dust, but Jungkook can't make out what it is from the distance he's at. 

 "Y/N…" He starts, not sure what to say. Namjoon lowers you to the floor again then bends over. He misses the bear completely; instead, reaching for the plastic bag and lifting it. He wipes the dust away with his thumb.

 "Fuck," he mutters under his breath.

 "Wha-at is it?" Jungkook inquires, leaning over to look closer.

 "A bag of pills." You lean over as well. One hand rests on Namjoon's shoulder, the other lingers at your hip, and a sigh escapes your lips as you look down at the bag. "Why is it here though, Joon? Who's is it?"

 "I don't know. I rarely see anyone come in here, but obviously, it belongs to either Yesung or Mingyu. Don't know why they would keep it here of all places though."

 "It doesn't look like the pills either of them take."

 "Did they… did they take the pills from someone else for some reason?" Jungkook asks. You look his way, head tilting to the side as you mull over his words. 

 "Has anyone discussed leaving soon, Jungkookie?"

 "Um, yea actually. Jimin mentioned that Mi-Miyeon? Yea, Miyeon could be on her way out." You shake your head at his words. 

 "That can't be right," you say as you shift your gaze to Namjoon. "Miyeon doesn't take any pills, does she?"

 "No, she's strictly in the ED division as far as I know. No reason for her to take pills in the first place. Besides, these are narcotics. Among all the patients, I'm the only one who is assigned to take them. No way in hell I'd give those pills to anyone, let alone Mingyu or Yesung."

 "So…?" Jungkook trails off, waiting for Namjoon to follow up on his comment.

 "So they must be getting the pills from a staff member."

 "Why on earth would they need them though?" You ask. Your grip tightens on Namjoon's shoulder, and he glances down at you with a darkening expression. "And why the hell would they keep them here?" Your tone increases in fervor. Namjoon shakes his head, not saying anything for a moment. He continues with a quiet voice.

 "They're up to something, I know it but… honestly, we cannot worry about that right now. If someone were to find us with the pills, we would get in serious trouble. That may be exactly what Mingyu and Yesung want. So please, Y/N, please just forget about it for now. It's not important. We should just leave them here for the time being." A frown comes across your lips.

 "Mingyu and Yesung have never done anything drastic, Joon. You don't think – do you think they might try something?"

 "I'm sure Yesung isn't the one behind it if they are. He just does whatever Mingyu says because that's what is easiest for him. Y/N, please try to trust me on this. I'll try my best to figure this out so you don't need to worry about it." Namjoon brings a hand up, resting it atop yours, and he squeezes gently. You blink back at him.

 "I already trust you, Joon. You don't need to ask that."

 "I know but…” Namjoon trails off, not finishing his train of thought as a sad gleam overtakes his features. He looks away and shifts his gaze to the floor instead. "Take the bear to Taehyung. He's been waiting long enough, hasn't he?"

 "You're right," you murmur before retracting your hand from Namjoon's shoulder. Bending down, you lift the bear into your grasp and give a few measly swipes at the dust.

 "Jungkook, could you hang back for a minute? I'd like to chat."

 You glance between Namjoon and Jungkook, eyes narrowed and skeptical. Jungkook bites at his lower lip. Your stare is lingering, increasing his discomfort and the anxiety bubbling in his gut. A moment later, you turn away though and do not question Namjoon's request.

 "I'll see you both at dinner then." You slip out of the library without further comment. The moment you're out of sight, Namjoon grabs hold of Jungkook's arm and tugs him further into the room.

 "Things are getting worse between Y/N and Taehyung. And by worse, I mean quite a lot worse. Y/N thinks it's all because of the bear because Taehyung hasn't said anything." 

 "I know that. Seokjin mentioned it earlier."

 "Well, yes, that's fantastic, Jungkook. It's a big problem. If she gives him the bear, it is not going to fix anything. She will continue to think that she did something wrong because of what you did. To make matters worse, Hoseok is coming back to the clinic tonight."

 "Wh-What?"

 "He's scheduled to come back around mealtime, which means he will most likely be there during dinner. Y/N still doesn't know about the pills or him trying to overdose," Namjoon explains in a hushed tone. Jungkook merely shakes his head as he looks back at the man. 

 "I don't – I don't know what you want me to do. I don't understand what you want me to do, Namjoon. You already told her to take the bear to Taehyung. What am I supposed to do?" Namjoon laughs at Jungkook's coming, a breathy sound that lilts through the air for a moment. He quiets down even further with his next words.

 "She's not doing that though. She's in the hallway trying to listen in on our conversation. I know her all too well. But, Jungkook, she can't sit at Hoseok's table tonight. She really can't. I don't even think she should see him in the first place."

 "No…" Jungkook mutters. He leans away from Namjoon, eyes crossing the older man's face. "No. She needs to see him, and she needs to give the bear to Taehyung. It will make her happy, Namjoon. She needs that."

 "At what cost, Jungkook? For what? A sliver of happiness? I refuse to risk her sanity and wellbeing for a brief moment of happiness."

 "Yoongi would. He'd want her to be happy and do whatever it takes to make her happy." Jungkook pulls his arm away from Namjoon, but the man only grips him harder and keeps him rooted to the spot.

 "I'm not Yoongi, Jungkook! I have lost more than one person because I just wanted them to be happy. It fucking backfired so I refuse to risk that for Y/N as well. She is all I have left."

 "Things change. It doesn't mean it will be the same for Y/N."

 Namjoon's arm falls limply by his side. He looks down at the floor, and Jungkook can't see the expression that rests on his face but he isn't sure that he really wants to out of fear of what he might see. 

 "I can't risk that, Jungkook," he whispers, voice so quiet that Jungkook has to lean in to hear him better. "She's the only one I have left. Everyone else has abandoned me. I don't have anyone else in my life, not even outside the clinic. I was dropped here when I was 16. My family never came back to check on me or talk to me or anything. She is all I have left. I can't lose her no matter what."

 "Then are you going to keep her here forever? Just because you're being selfish? How long has she been here because you refused to let her go?" Jungkook steps away from Namjoon, nearly tripping over his own feet. Namjoon… how long have you forced her to stay? Namjoon doesn't answer his questions, and Jungkook continues to glare at him with fury in his eyes. "I refuse to help you keep her miserable. That's not what she deserves, that's not what anyone deserves. If it makes her happy, then I'll do that. That's how you know someone truly cares about your wellbeing." 

 Jungkook turns on his heel, leaving the library without further comment and anger boiling in his gut. As soon as he turns the corner outside the door, he spots you. You're standing a couple feet away from the door, leaning against the wall with the stuffed bear hanging loosely in your grasp. Just as Namjoon said you would be.

 "Take the bear to Taehyung," you say. You make no comment on whether you overheard his conversation with Namjoon or not, but Jungkook certainly does not want to press the matter. "Just leave it on his bed or tell him that you were the one who found it, I don't care."

 "Why don't you want to do it yourself?" Jungkook says, head tilting to the side as he asks the question. "You deserve to give it to him."

 "I really don't," you answer with a small shake of your head. "At the end of the day, I don't deserve anything, so it doesn't really matter."

 "That's not true," Jungkook protests. He frowns back at you, your face stoic in comparison to his. "Taehyung would be more than thrilled if you gave the bear back to him." As soon as he concludes his sentence, you chuck the stuffed bear at him without warning. It bounces off Jungkook's chest and hits the floor with a soft thud. "Don't... don't do this, Y/N."

 "What am I doing wrong? Tell me why I can't do this. It's my life. I deserve to make these decisions for myself, don't I?"

 "You're trying to throw away your relationship with Taehyung," Jungkook bites out between gritted teeth. 

 "That's not true."

 "You are pushing him away to save yourself."

 "You're lying." You push away from the wall. Spit leaves your mouth as you hiss your words at him, pure vehemence in your tone. You begin to walk down the hall, and Jungkook rushes to pick up the bear from the floor and chase after you. "Stop fucking following me." 

 Jungkook persists still, hot on your heels as you move. "I'm not following you," he says under his breath. 

 "Fuck off, Jungkook. I won't say it again."

 "Is it because of what Namjoon said? Did you listen to our conversation?"

 "No, I actually didn't. I heard about ten percent of your fucking conversation and decided I didn't want to hear the rest. God, I could really use some cigarettes right about now." You bring a hand to your head, rubbing at the skin there as though it'll alleviate any of the pain Jungkook knows you must be in. "Before you make a smartass comment, I know it's bad for me and it won't help in the long run. I need that fucking temporary relief now."

 "I know you do," Jungkook mutters. You opt not to acknowledge him or his words, continuing to march through the clinic with Jungkook following you like a lost dog. It isn't until the two of you reach the hall of bedrooms that you decide to speak to Jungkook again.

 "I am still here for no other reason than that I am a bad person. I cannot get better. That is all. Don't sling accusations at anyone except for me." You slip into a room without even checking to see if it belongs to you. Jungkook blinks at the floor where you just stood. If he knew what to say, he might say it but he falls short. Yet again. I don't… I can't help. I don't know how to help. I caused this and yet – and yet I can't even try to fix things.

 A sigh leaves Jungkook's lips. He turns away from the door and moves for his own, carrying the stuffed bear still. Stepping into his room, the chill is what hits him first. It's a cool draft from the AC, and Jungkook shivers under it, subconsciously bringing the bear closer to his chest. It's pointless really because Jungkook sets it down on Taehyung's pillow a moment later. It's only when he puts it down that he realizes you didn't step into your own room in the hallway. Rather you stopped at the room just before yours – Yoongi's. Jungkook hesitates just before sitting on his bed. The conversation he shared with Seokjin earlier in the day returns to mind, the older man's words coming to the forefront of his memory. 

 "They care about each other – Y/N and Yoongi that is – but it's always seemed as though they have a really twisted way of showing it."

 It makes much more sense now. The differences in your relationship with Yoongi and your relationship with Namjoon. How any time something goes wrong you run to Yoongi rather than Namjoon, you search for Yoongi for comfort when Jungkook imagines Namjoon is a better option. How you and Yoongi cannot seem to hold a conversation without arguing. You mentioned that you had a different kind of trust with Yoongi, and now that Jungkook has an insight into Namjoon's feelings and mind, he sees why Namjoon chooses not to ask personal questions of you. Perhaps Namjoon is scared of what he might hear or he's worried that you'll say that you are doing better.

 Had someone asked Jungkook whether he thought Yoongi actually cared for you on the first day in the clinic, Jungkook would have said he didn't without any hesitation. Now, however, Jungkook sees that Yoongi is the only one who truly cares about your well-being.

 "I know it won't help, and it's certainly not good for her in any way. I'm just doing what I can though. If that's the only thing I can do for her, then so be it. It would've been a bad idea no doubt. I can't say no to her though."

 Jungkook can't figure where the line is. Caring about someone so much that you would be willing to do things that could hurt them in the long run versus refusing to give them momentary happiness because you know it could hurt them in the long run. He doesn't know which is better. Is it better to risk hurting someone or prevent them from small happiness? 

 "I didn't need to know why. I don't need to know every little detail about what's going on in her life, to be honest. The things I do for her are enough, and I do them because I care about her. That's that."

 He can't say no to you. Maybe that's the secret behind it all. Just not be able to say no, yet Jungkook thinks that would be an issue in the long run regardless. I wonder... does Y/N think the same about Yoongi? Does she want the same things he does? Jungkook clenches his palms around the fabric of his sweats, knuckles turning white from the pressure. She claims to know, she says she knows that it's bad for her. And yet Yoongi would still drop everything to give them to her.

 Jungkook turns on his heel. It's not any of his business really. It doesn't involve him or matter in the slightest. In the long run, what is it going to do for him?

 Selfish. Selfish. Why? Who are you? Why does it matter?

 Jungkook shakes his head. The voice intrudes, pushing through logic and replacing it with emotion.

 Think. Think. Jungkook. Think. Don't you know? Can't you figure it out? Stupid. Useless. Fucking idiot. Think. You're so useless. 

 Jungkook stumbles and nearly trips over his own feet. Grabbing for the wall, he steadies himself long enough to scoot towards the door.

 Quit fighting. Are you fucking stupid? Just let it happen. Let me in. 

 Jungkook slams his head against the wall. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone. Fuck off. I don't need you right now. Jungkook hits his head a bit harder. The pressure helps alleviate some of the pressure for only a few moments before the voices are rushing back in, rushing to disturb Jungkook's peace of mind yet again. He slides the door open. I need you to leave me alone. Go away. Go.

 Slipping back into the hallway, Jungkook slaps the side of his head with the flat of his hand as though that will help the voices leave. They are only relatively quiet when he's in the presence of other people, talking, chatting, listening, just doing anything other than being alone with his own head. He isn't wholly sure where he's walking to, but his feet take him past your room, Yoongi's room, and the one beside his. He stops before one of the white sliding doors and without thinking twice knocks on it.

 It slides open with little effort seconds later, and the girl behind it blinks up at Jungkook with confusion gleaming in her brown eyes. 

 "Uh… hello?"

 Jungkook stares down at her, an equal amount of confusion on his own features no doubt. Why… am I here?

 "Oh, are you here to see Hyewon?" The girl asks, head tilting to the side as she looks back at Jungkook. "It's Jungkook, right?"

 "U-Um, yea, yea I'm Jungkook. Is – uh, is Hyewon available right now?" Jungkook asks in response, a similar tilt to his chin. 

 "She is, yes," she answers. Jungkook can't quite place her name but knows that he's seen her sitting alongside Mingyu and Yesung with Hyewon before. "But… you aren't supposed to go into other patient's bedrooms without permission or accompaniment by a nurse?"

 "It's fine, Hanuel." Hyewon steps into Jungkook's line of sight, her platinum blonde hair tied up behind her head in a high bun. Jungkook glances away from the girl in front of him – Hanuel – in favor of looking at Hyewon. "He already got permission from a nurse."

 "O-Oh, I'm sorry for assuming." Hanuel shifts and steps out of Jungkook's path.

 "Can you give a few minutes to talk one on one, Hanuel? It won't be long I promise."

 Hanuel nods in response, her hair bouncing along with the motion, and slides past Jungkook to step into the hallway. Jungkook takes her place in the room, eyes still on Hanuel. The door slides shut behind him, the brightness from the hall dissipates and leaves Jungkook and Hyewon in a dark room.

 "You can turn on the lights if you wish. Hanuel needs it to be dark in here, but if you'd rather turn them on, that's fine." Hyewon motions over Jungkook's shoulder towards the light switch. He just shakes his head in response, fingers coming back to toy at the material of his sweatpants as the black waters of anxiety lap at his ankles. "Why are you here, Jungkook?"

 "Wh-Why did you cover for me and lie to Hanuel?"

 "Oh? Did you not ask a nurse for permission?" Jungkook denies it with another shake of his head. "Then whatever you want to talk about must be important. I don't mind. It's not like you're breaking any big rules."

 "Oh… yea."

 "Why are you here, Jungkook?" Hyewon repeats. She doesn't move, still glued to the same spot on the carpet as before, and Jungkook doesn't move either. 

 "I-I don't kn-know. I guess, I guess I just need a distraction?"

 "What do you mean?"

 "I want to – I don't know. I want to just get my mind off things for a bit. I'm sick of thinking so damn hard. I just want to stop for a bit."

 A laugh breaks through the lingering tension in the room. Jungkook peers at Hyewon as though she's grown a second head, the laugh out of place in the hush of their exchanged words. She clutches at her stomach as she laughs, the crisp sound echoes in the small room, and she slides down to sit on the carpet a moment later.

 "Well then… how may I assist you, Mr. Jeon?" Hyewon motions towards the space in front of her, the invitation clear. Jungkook moves forward with hesitant steps and falls into a similar sitting position across from her. 

 "I don't know. You can talk about anything, I guess."

 "I doubt you really want to hear my life story, Jungkook."

 He shrugs. "Try me."

 "Hm, if I tell you a bit about myself, then I expect the same in return." Hyewon points at Jungkook with her index finger, a narrow to her eyes that Jungkook winces at. "Oh chill, Jungkook. It's not an attack, it's just a fair exchange."

 "Okay, y-yea. That's fine, I guess."

 Hyewon pauses at Jungkook's stutter and hesitance. The narrow of her eyes increases. "Is something wrong with you?"

 "What? What – Why would you think that?" Jungkook blanches at her question, panic arising quickly in his gut, the black water swirling up to his hips, and his breath starts to leave him a bit quicker.

 "Well, don't take this the wrong way but you seem… relaxed? Confident? Maybe not confident, but just weirdly out of character. No offense but you normally act like a blubbering mess and can barely speak without stuttering at every word. Not to mention how you freeze up whenever someone asks something personal of you."

 "I'm just listening to your earlier advice," Jungkook says. It's a quickly uttered white lie but a good cover nonetheless. 

 "My advice? What do you mean?"

 "A-About Yoongi, Y/N and Namjoon. Uh, I know – I know what kind of people they are now." Hyewon's eyes go wide, and her lips part at bit at Jungkook's words.

 "Really? That didn't take much effort on my part. So, do you remember what really happened the night of Hoseok's episode now?"

 The question catches Jungkook off-guard. He leans back, spine straightened and rigid, and blinks at Hyewon with no words coming out of his open mouth. I know what happened. 

 "You're doing a shitty job at distracting me," Jungkook hisses. Hyewon answers with a laugh, another clear and crisp sound that tears through the room. She throws her head back while laughing.

 "Sorry about that." Hyewon clears her throat, tucking a strand of hair that's fallen from her bun behind her ear. "I could tell you a bit about my story. If that would help in any way?"

 "Sure, yeah, that sounds… fine."

 "Ha, don't sound so enthusiastic. Well, I guess I can start with my childhood? As a child, there was this – this sort of terrible accident in my life. I don't want to go too in-depth on it, and frankly, I don't remember all too much about it. But I know I lost some people who were very important to me. My struggles started there, I guess, but the remaining people in my life tried to brush it off as a normal reaction to tragedy. For a while, I believed them and wanted to brush it off the same way they did, so I tried shutting it out of my mind.

 "Well as I got older, I tried taking away the pain with other things. Drinking all sorts of things, every drug in existence, sex – anything to try and block it out for even five minutes. After a debacle, I was stuck in here because they thought it was the obvious solution. I mean, what else could they do?" Hyewon pauses, looking up at the ceiling and focusing on something up there. Jungkook peers at her as a cynical smile crosses her lips. "It's funny, you know. It's funny how only when you start doing things for yourself and trying to help yourself, people think something is wrong with you. Taking care of yourself is equal to being crazy. They never believe you when you say something is wrong with you. It's only when you take control. When they disapprove of what you're doing with your life and how you're behaving, they take control. They make the rules. They lock you away because they don't understand.

 "I was happy. I was enjoying myself, I was doing what I wanted. Free from pain and misery and the horrors I had to survive. Every damn day I asked myself, "Why did I survive and not them?". I didn't have control until I took control for myself. It wasn't until I did that I finally started living. And yet they told me that I didn't deserve to live. Sure, I would've ended up dead at some point from all the alcohol and drugs I was taking. At least… at least I was feeling something other than pain. At least I was living. They don't care about that one bit. They don't care about the pain you're in. All they care about is what image it presents. How it looks to people on the outside. The lack of control."

 "Control…" Jungkook mutters to himself. The words strike a chord, bite deep at his skin, resonate so much in him that it physically hurts. His chest tightens, heart clenching at the walls around it, and he blinks at Hyewon with narrowed eyes. A mirror, but not. Same story, different telling. Same life, different paths taken. All leading to the same place...

 "It stressed me out, to be honest," Hyewon says, voice falling to a broken whisper. Her chin dips to her chest. "Thinking about how no matter what you do, it's never enough for them. But at some point, you have to realize that… it's not about doing it for them. You don't owe them anything. It's about what you owe to yourself. The things you do for yourself are enough, and that's the truth of it. So, how about you, Jungkook? What were your juicy methods of taking the pain away? And how did they land you here?"

 "I…" Jungkook trails off. He swallows roughly around the lump in his throat, the black waters of anxiety quickly rushing to lap at his feet in the moment of weakness. A mirror. A mirror. She's a mirror. Vulnerable. Trust. I can’t trust her. No, I can. I can trust her. "I just would work out and control what I ate. I needed control. Had to have some sort of control in my life. Those were the only things I knew how to control. Just work out until I couldn't even feel my body anymore. Control what I ate until – until I was perfect. It was just easiest to do."

 Hyewon laughs. "Why did you never try alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, or sex? That would've taken care of the problem in an instant."

 "I wasn't interested."

 "In what?"

 "I never wanted to do something bad for me or that I would regret eventually. I've never been interested in alcohol or cigarettes, drugs are off the table. I never wanted to put more drugs in my body than I'm forced to already. Didn't want to add to the growing list of issues I have with my condition. As for sex, I've never been in a relationship, so I didn't even consider it."

 "I have never regretted a single thing I did. Besides, you don't have to be in a relationship to have sex." Hyewon smiles at him, and the expression sends a surge of embarrassment through his system.

 "I-I know that. I know. I know but I would rather it be something meaningful and worth something. Not something to take the pain away."

 "Don't knock it until you try it, Jungkook," Hyewon scoffs. A knock interrupts Hyewon's train of thought. The door slides open, Hanuel steps back in, and Jungkook leans away from the girl across from him. 

 "I'm sorry. The lights outside were bothering me."

 "It's fine, it's fine. I was just leaving." Jungkook gets up, moving back from the carpet. "Th-Thank you, Hyewon. For talking with me."

 "No problem, Jungkook. Drop by any time you need me."

 "I'll keep that in mind." Jungkook turns away from Hyewon and heads for the door where Hanuel stands. He steps past her, moves into the hallway, and walks back to his room with heavy feet. He barely has time to think about his conversation with Hyewon, everything is moving quickly again. He has enough time to make it to his door and find it wide open. Again, he finds an unexpected sight. Again, he finds Taehyung sitting on the edge of his bed, something in his hands. Except this time it isn't Jungkook's journal. It's a small stuffed bear covered in dark dust.

...

a/n: okay first of all, so so sorry for such a delay in updates for my series!!! i’ve been doing requests for such a long time that i completely lost track of time! i hope you all like this chapter, please let me know what you think of it 🥺👉👈

tag list: @succulentjinkook​ @mxrzan​

consider sending me a ko-fi!!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[bearseungmin]

CONTENT CREATOR YEAR IN REVIEW

tagged by: @hanflix :’))) my love, rue!!! i love you so much!

tagging: @binniesthighs @milkym00n @dreamyhan @mochinnie @hanjizung @seungmoomin (if you’ve done this before please feel free to ignore this! :) ily) + anyone who sees this that hasn’t gotten to do it yet! tag me!!! i want to read into your world please this is fun to do i promise

NOTE: most of my works are nsfw. under 18 please do not interact with them.

1. first creation of 2020 and most recent creation of 2020 first creation: runaway, a lovely fluff + sci-fi! au about alien hyunjin running from his lab and finding solace inside of your bedroom. most recent creation: ironically another hyunjin drabble (he’s my kryptonite)! free with ads is a smut request by a lovely anon about hyunjin wanting to have fun during a movie night with skz! hard warnings btw, beware.

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020 the ricochet effect, although it’s not out yet! it’s an ot8 series, part per member/’choose your own’ vibe, and it’s already got me in my feels. the entire series is meant to have the message of “love does include sex, in a healthy way. you can experiment without being called names, learn from mistakes, and even (just maybe) find someone that you can share a little more time with. all while learning about yourself, and how to love yourself!” or at least i hope it comes across that way. :) it’s witty and has bits of actual advice i want to pass over to smut readers, all while still being fiction. i hope it turns out well.

3. a creation you’re really proud of imminent! it’s a long fic about wolfman! changbin. It’s completely based off the movie “the wolfman” from 2010 that i love substantially, (mainly because it starred benicio del toro, who i’m constantly inspired by) and sort of follows the lore of the film without being exactly like the film. i wrote it in two short sittings, and i’m completely proud of myself for coming up with a huge spin to the plot within like an hour before writing it. it’s also one of the only works of my own that i can read without cringing too lmaoo.

4. a creation that took you forever the ricochet effect, again! i currently have 4 out of 8 written, but it feels like it’ll be the year 3000 by the time i finish it, and i will not be living under water. i’ll be screaming at my wifi for going in and out and deleting what i’m writing. rip.

5. a creation from 2020 that received the most notes could listen to you read the dictionary is the highest of my notes right now! which, who doesn’t have a very specific felix’s voice kink? this was my first request on this blog, so i’ll cherish this drabble for a long time.

6. a creation you think deserved more notes before i swapped over to this blog from bearseokie i was doing a 1k drabble game/halloween drabble game, which brought two of my favorite drabbles to light! epitaph is a warlock! au smut that is centered around the idea that minho can make you see a few minutes into the future, and also bring you back to the now moment! vampire is a vampy! au (obviously) smut where you’ve come to love your human seungmin, and all he wants to do is join you in the life of immortality to make you feel less alone. bonus: for my harry potter/hogwarts! au lovers, stars is considerably underrated and is very cute! jisung is a ravenclaw, reader is a slytherin. could i make it any more obvious?

7. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it i’m still a baby stay, so stray kids! i have a tendency to listen to a group’s music for months on end before i even get into the members and knowing their history. but when i got into skz holy shit you’d think i had an epiphany, these dudes are insanely talented and i am so sorry i slept on getting to know them. i’m just going to link my entire m.list since that’s what stanning them has brought out! masterlist!

8. a creation you made that breaks your heart words to me, definitely. the idea of being around soulmate! chan is enough to make anyone weak, but the lights in each other’s eyes put together form a diamond to tell you both that you’re soulmates? i’m on the floor, i hardly even remember writing that bit but it’s in there and i’m going awooga right now.

9. a ‘simple’ creation you really love 11:47 took my brain cells and ran with them. fuckbuddy! hyunjin is always on my mind, but damn if me writing this out didn’t electrify those thoughts by a thousand.

10. a creation that was inspired by another one beat it to the door was inspired by daniel sloss’ comedy special “X” (it is highly mature content and possibly triggering content btw pls look into it before watching if you do!!!) inside one of his jokes he was speaking about how sex is bound to happen to everyone, and can be under any circumstance. while listing things you could have sex during or between, he joked “order a pizza, see if you can beat it to the door.” and my brain went: chan. so welcome to how my brain works!

11. a favorite creation by someone else i love all of the recs under my tag #during.dawn.bookshelf, but oh do i know how many works i have yet to read and i know will shake me to my core. i honestly cannot choose any specific works off the top of my head, so instead i am just going to link my skz writer recs lists so you can see all the people i adore + who inspire me every (and i mean Every) day! skz writer recs: list one, list two, list three

12. some of your favorite content creators from this year where do i even start, okay: @hanflix​ - can make you cry and be horny at the same time? wtf rue. i came here for fun and now you’re making me Feel Emotions Through Your Writing That I Have Yet To Feel In Real Life Mom Pick Me Up Rue Is Too Talented. read rue’s works or you will regret it. @mikoto-ica-fics​ - i would be lying my sweet ass off if i said mica isn’t the explicit reason i made this blog. her works will literally (Literally) send you into another dimension and make you fall in love with skz all over again. @nightshade-minho​ - mika mika mika let me announce that i love mika, mika’s writing (so much that you make me genuinely excited to write), and mika’s aesthetically pleasing blog. the best “let me dip my toe into the water (aka mlist) and see what happens oh no i’m in it now and it’s 5 a.m how did i get here.” you’ll ever experience. @binniesthighs​ - if you’ve ever asked the question: where can i get some good fucking food (skz fluff & smut) around here? see ro! @dreamyhan​ - why is hazel everywhere, and how did i not find her sooner? how is hazel so talented? i ask these questions on a regular basis. @mochinnie​ - you’ll never be bored if you know isa’s @. everything she does is so neat, pretty, aesthetic, astounding, talented, beautiful, amazing, etc of what lady gaga says in that one meme which fits isa way too well. there are SO MANY skz writers i could go on about like this, so please please please check out the skz writers recs list above!!! i’m still adding to it as time goes on :) if you weren’t specifically mentioned here, just know i will find your blog and i will fall in love with you. this is a threat.

[akitokihojo]

Delicate - Chapter 4

"And who might you be looking for?" Sango questioned suggestively, the smirk on her face implying she'd noticed the several glances Kagome had spared up and down the halls. She'd thought she'd been nonchalant about it, but apparently not. 

The question was, of course, rhetorical. Even if it wasn't, she treated it as such. Her best friend would know better than anyone who her eyes constantly searched for considering how habitual it had become. This time, it was a conscious search. She hadn't seen or heard from Inuyasha since Friday night, and her worry was nagging at her. All she wanted was to see that he'd recovered, to see that little smile he'd usually give in passing, and the stress would be satiated. Until then, she played it all off with a spirited shake of her head as she normally would. The last thing she wanted was for her concern to be notable. Out of respect for Inuyasha, Sango was completely unaware of what had occurred that night.

"So, what are you gonna do when you see him?" Her friend asked, walking along at her side.

"Do?"

"Yes, do. You guys have something going here, and it's cute, but you gotta amp it up a little. If not for your sake, then mine. I am living vicariously through you, Kagome! The well is dry!" Sango exclaimed, gesturing to herself overzealously as they stopped several feet before their classroom. "He made a big move last week by scaling your house like freaking Spiderman just to get to your window! People don't do that for fun, alright? This isn't parkour. And, I can assure you he didn't do that for a pin. Ball's in your court, my main gal, and you gotta reciprocate to let him know you're interested."

Kagome was a little taken aback by Sango's passion, the fervor in her brown eyes alight. "Did you have coffee this morning?"

"Yes, what's your point?"

"I can see why your dad doesn't like you drinking it."

"Focus." She grabbed the sides of Kagome's arms to make sure the emphasis was as dramatic as necessary to get her attention, and it took all of Kagome's effort not to sputter out a laugh. "Do you like him?"

"You already know the answer to that!"

"Then do something about it."

"What, exactly, am I supposed to do? Swoon before him so he'll catch me before I hit the ground? He'll just call me an idiot and tell me to get my shit together." As much as she knew that was true, she still found the whole situation humorous, especially the thought of the hypothetical scenario.

"Okay, so you'll just have to make it impossible for him to stop thinking about you. Oh, yes, I've got it!" Sango said, her face beaming as the epiphany hit. She dropped her hold on Kagome, rubbing her hands together in preparation of a scheme. "You know that flirty look you do? Where you have those sultry eyes, and you do that little, crooked grin, and then you look them up and down real quick? Do that! You'll mess him up for the rest of the day!"

"Excuse me, what look!?" Kagome felt the heat rush to her cheeks, her mouth hanging agape.

"Oh, don't play dumb. I've seen you stunt guys. One time, you did it so well, even I felt weak in the knees. I've got no taco cravings, girl, but you fucked me up."

"Sango!"

"Hear me out! The objective, from a woman's standpoint, is to wreck the guy they favor until he just can't take it anymore. I promise you, you do the look and he won't be able to forget it, and then he'll be knocking on your window again in no time. Wreck hi - oh, wreck him." She slyly gestured to Kagome's left, fading her motivational speech off in a low murmur to seem casual.

Subconsciously following Sango's nod, Kagome turned, her dark eyes landing on the half demon as he made his way through the hall in the direction of his own class two doors down. His golden stare met her own, but there was no luminescence behind it. It was dull and lackluster, like he didn't actually see her; she was just part of the crowd. In an attempt to attain his normal reaction toward her, she smiled warmly, never breaking the contact their eyes held. But, he did. He regarded her with such obvious disdain that it jostled her to the core, her grin immediately falling. 

As Inuyasha made his way passed and beyond, Kagome's head shifted to follow him, waiting for any sign that he didn't mean it. She was sure it had to have been unintentional. There was no logical explanation for it. Inuyasha was snarky, temperamental, but to her, he wasn't cold. Not even when she frustrated him. He just wasn't. Inuyasha never turned around, though. He said hello to a person in passing and then disappeared into his class.

"What was that all about?" Sango gently inquired. Kagome could only shake her head in answer, signifying that she didn't know. She was racking her brain, trying to figure out what she could have possibly done to deserve it. Maybe he felt embarrassed for oversharing and wanted space. It was easy to understand, especially considering he wasn't much one for opening up. He might have regretted doing so. Humility makes people respond poorly; it was common.

Seeding deeply, Kagome felt a dark shadow of doubt crawl over. That look, the carelessness in his gaze, sent her a message. One she couldn’t decode on the spot. One that brought her to second-guess her initial suspicion. Maybe, for the moment, in the moment, the answer to this wasn’t what was important. She’d respect his chosen time to himself. He’d eventually come around. This was Inuyasha.

By the third day, her stomach was physically aching. It was like he adamantly refused to look at her, and if he did, she was just like any other irrelevant person. She'd given into the temptation and texted him the night before to see if he was alright. That was it. She didn't pry, she didn't bring up Friday or anything he'd told her, or even the way he'd been treating her. Just a simple text saying, "Is everything okay?" It went ignored. The guy even turned his read receipts on to let her know he'd seen it about an hour later. They weren't on before. It was deliberate. She could read the petty memo he was sending perfectly clear.

It hurt. Kagome didn't understand, and her mind was already exhausted from the amount of overthinking that wrung and twisted and carved uncertainty into every corner. What had she done wrong? She had to have done something. That was the only plausible explanation. Even so, how could she apologize? It would be meaningless if she didn't know the causation behind it, and even more so since he refused to talk to her. If she sought him out, it would ring of desperation, and as the glances still held cold or disinterested, the sensations he sent her stabbing and crippling, the rejection was too dense and painful to allow herself anywhere near him. If she did, she would only be willingly subjecting herself to more.

She felt stupid. So, so stupid. There was a part of her that had actually begun to believe he liked her. Even just a little. Yet, here she was feeling disposable; like she hadn't left even an inkling of an indentation on him. Typically, so it goes, if a guy treats you this way it was best to say, "Fuck him," and blow him off just the same. Take a day to handle your feelings, pick yourself up, and move on like a big girl. So, why was her chest feeling so stiflingly congested? Why did it sting so much for him to treat her like nothing when no relationship had ever developed between the two of them? It wasn't just hope that ruined her lucidity, that was a fact she didn't have to convince herself of. Kagome, though a daydreamer, knew the hanyou was distant from the beginning. Despite it all, she thought there was progress. She thought he was growing more comfortable with her. She thought he was learning to trust her. And, the salt in the wound was she didn't even know where she'd gone wrong to mess it all up.

Whenever they'd pass each other, Sango made it a point to distract her. She would either hook her arm in the crook of Kagome's and guide her in a different direction, or abruptly start talking a little louder to effectively regain Kagome's attention. There were very few times she brought up Inuyasha's sudden Jack Frost attitude. It was killing her that her best friend looked so sad all the time and she didn't know what to say or do to help. She feared bringing him up, in general, would only make Kagome's eyes fall to the ground in visible disappointment as she attempted to smile through it. Because, this was Kagome, after all. As hurt as she was, she never tried to show it. By the end of the week, though, Sango was reaching her limit. Something more had to have happened; it didn't make sense that the guy would change his mind out of nowhere. As a spectator to it all, she felt Inuyasha was pretty obvious as his feelings developed for Kagome. The infamous grump of the campus was progressively becoming a big softy for one single person. She wasn't the only one who'd noticed. It wasn't the major gossip filling the halls by any means, but it was pretty clear to those paying attention. How does someone just turn all that off like a light switch? She could be wrong, but she didn't necessarily get player vibes from him either. Something just wasn’t clicking here, and a badgering prickle in the pit of her abdomen continued to annoy Sango to no ends.

Just after school, as they were making their way out, Sango gave Kagome a small tug to the side so that they were out of the way of everyone in the corridor. "Spill. It's been long enough and everything seems to be worse. Am I missing something here?"

"Just about as much as I am." Kagome shrugged. No name needed to be said for her to understand who and what Sango was referencing. They had a pre-spoken agreement that, even prior to all of this, they kept it all hush hush since his hearing was sensitive. The last thing she ever wanted was for him to be tipped off by catching his name from wherever he stood. Especially now. On top of that, no one else needed to know what was going on. "I honestly don't know what changed."

"So, that's it? He literally went from sneaking in through your window in the middle of the night to this? Did something else happen in between? Like, did he make an actual move on you; get a little handsy and take the rejection hard?"

"No. No." Kagome shook her head fervently in reassurance. "He came, he took the pin, he left. He wasn't even there for a full five minutes."

Sango released an airy scoff, completely dumbfounded. "Are you kidding me? That's really it? What a prick.”

"Well,” Kagome hesitated, sighing deeply. Despite the circumstances, she was still reluctant to share Inuyasha's personal information. It played a key role in the scenario, though. It had to. Because, Sango was right, no matter how much it didn't make sense now, it was even more illogical to think he'd go from minor flirting - if that's what they could call it - straight to the cold shoulder. "Okay look, I didn't tell you this because it was kind of a sensitive topic, but I guess it doesn't really matter now. That next night, after Ayumi's thing went down the drain, I ran into him. He was really upset about something, so I made him walk with me a little to calm down and he opened up. That was our actual last encounter."

"You're gonna have to give me a little bit more to work with. What was wrong? Like, something between you two?"

"No, it was more about some family issues." Kagome answered, keeping it bland.

"Okay," Sango nodded, picking up on the hint. "He vented, and then what?"

"I hugged him. Then, I went home."

"Did you maybe say anything that could have possibly insulted him, or made him feel uncomfortable for talking about it all? I mean, from what you've told me, he comes off as fairly guarded. I feel like it'd be easy to tip the scale."

"I didn't say a word." Kagome admitted. "He asked me not to before he even started. He told me everything, and I just - I hugged him. Do you think that was what did it? Maybe the hug made him feel patronized?" The question came out as uncertain as she felt about the idea. 

Sango’s face twisted slightly. “What? No. How? Did he, like, push you away?"

"Not immediately. He hugged me back first. And, even as he pushed me, it was really gentle; not in a back off sort of way, but more of a nudge. He told me I should get home since it was late, and it just felt like he was saying he'd calmed down and wanted some space."

"Wow. Yeah, that's gotta be it. I can't believe you tried to comfort him. What a bitch." Sango said with a straight expression, completely sarcastic in her statement.

"If that's not the reason, then I don't know what is." Kagome said, exasperation showing in her tone and flinging hands. "I've gone over it all so many times in my head -"

From down the hall, Sango noticed the familiar smile of Inuyasha's friend, her eyes instinctively traveling to the silver-haired boy walking next to him. Reacting swiftly, she cut off Kagome as smoothly as possible, her tone as friendly as any other conversation they'd had. "You're brother's clumsy, but he’s not dumb. I'm sure he won’t try to go up the stairs while he's home alone."

Though there was initial confusion, Kagome clued in at the suggestive shrug of Sango’s brows, only faltering to pick up the new topic for a moment. “Y-yeah. I - I know, you’re right. He’s just been erring on the bad side of natural selection recently.”

“You worry too much.” Sango giggled. 

Kagome watched Sango’s neck stiffen slightly, her eyes flickering over Kagome’s shoulder then towards the closest wall in disregard of the boy about the pass them. There was a slight brush as Inuyasha maneuvered through, his white shirt skimming the sleeve of Kagome’s black cardigan. He’d glanced at Sango but not at her, continuing down the hall.

“Now, that was just mean.” Kagome mumbled. “He did that on purpose.”

“Hey.” Miroku greeted, undetected as he’d stayed behind. His tone was careful as he approached, sympathy etched on his brow. “Sorry about him. He’s been acting pretty strange lately.”

“I don’t know if you two follow any sort of bro code, but can you tell me what I did to make him so mad?”

“I would if I knew. I will tell you something else though, and I’m pretty sure he’d sell my body parts to a meat market if he knew what I was about to say, but what the hell. Life’s about taking risks, right?” He shrugged, his forehead crinkling with how dramatically he’d risen his eyebrows. It was like he was trying to joke, but his apprehension held back the punchline. “Every so often, Inuyasha does this thing where he cuts people out. I really don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he’s doing here.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Just as it sounds. He just drops everything and pretends he never knew you. I don’t know why. If it makes you feel any better, I'll admit this time it seems a little different. He’s been more irritable in the last week than I’ve ever witnessed before, and that’s saying something. The guy is your typical Shoujo manga tsundere boy through and through, so attitude from him is like milk in your cereal; it’s a given. But, now he’s so crabby, it’s difficult to even get a basic response to a question from him. I can’t think of anything you could have possibly done to provoke this, Kagome. I’ve known him long enough to know this is internal. If I’m right, which I’m almost sure I am, he doesn’t like letting people get close to him, so I’ve seen this a couple times already. It’s like this routine of self-sabotage, but I’ll be damned if he ever listens to me.”

“If that’s the case, then why hasn’t he cut you out? What makes you so special?” Sango inquired, crossing her arms over her chest in defense. Miroku visibly tensed, a thick swallow bobbing his Adam’s apple. His Indigo eyes seemed to gloss over as he turned to look down the hall, suddenly seeming like an empty shell.

“Could you please not look at me directly?” He awkwardly spoke, voice wavering. “I might have a mental breakdown, and I feel I’ve been doing a really good job at holding an adult conversation.”

The girls eyed each other peculiarly before Sango turned away from him enough that he'd relax. "... Then why hasn't he cut you out? What makes you so special?" She asked again, more monotonously this time.

"Honestly, beats me. The only thing I can think of is he got used to me being around. I'm harmless. But, let's face it, you're not." Miroku suggested, aiming the comment at Kagome. She frowned, brows furrowing in response.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it hasn't been confirmed or anything, but it hasn't been directly denied in a while, either. Whenever I asked, he would just change the subject. Which, to me, translates that the guy was head over heels."

"Wait, wait, wait." Sango interjected, making the mistake of turning to the hanyou's friend. Noticing his immediate discomfort, she then swiveled on her heel to talk to Kagome while her hands spoke in Miroku's direction. "You're telling us that his legitimate response to having feelings for someone is to stop interacting with them!? Isn't that a bit, I don't know, counter productive?"

"Depends on the area he's trying to be productive in, if you think about it. He doesn't like letting people in. Feelings equals closeness."

Sango groaned, "You're contradicting yourself. He has no problem letting you in, yet he cuts everyone else out?”

"He doesn't let me in." Miroku countered smoothly. "I just figured him out. Keep in mind what I said; this time it's different. This time, even he's effected by the distancing."

Kagome ground her jaw, the pout on her face more of aggravation than anything. Things were making more sense, and she was appreciative of the insight, but that didn't mean she saw Inuyasha in any better lighting. In fact, everything was made worse. What a dick move. Just like that, he was done. Because of what? Fear? She could understand the theory, really she could, but it didn't make it right. She hadn’t actually done anything to deserve this. No one did, and he's done this to numerous people. His irritability per their separation didn't make her feel any better, either. Miroku was right. While thinking only of himself, Inuyasha was simultaneously voyaging down a self-destructive path. 

Truthfully, she didn't know how to feel. She was still sad, but it was transitioning into something else now. She pitied him, what he'd been through, his turbulent mindset that had him scared to let anyone near. Above all else, for her own sake, she felt angry. Angry that she wasn't even given a chance. Angry that she was treated like she was expendable by the person she’d come to value so much.

Fine. If that was his choice, then fine. There was no point in trying to change his mind, and quite frankly, he didn't deserve her persistency at this point. It would be a nuisance to the both of them.

Miroku gave a careful shrug, a minor cock of his head apologizing as much as words would, backing away and turning around to head out of the emptying hall. 

Finally, Sango was able to turn and fully look at him. This wasn't the first time she'd noticed just how broad his shoulders were, how toned his physique seemed, and how nicely his school uniform hugged him. She really enjoyed his smile most of all, and she'd enjoy it a little more if he didn't have a tendency to get super awkward around her - and only her. She tried to take it as flattery, but sometimes it made her overthink that something was wrong with her. They couldn't even have a proper conversation. Other times, it was pretty amusing to watch him instantaneously grow flustered. With the perspective he'd just handed them, though, Sango felt a sense of respect forming for him. He wasn't just a cute, fumbling weirdo. He was kind. It was like he wasn’t afraid to step up when it mattered. He didn't owe Kagome any sort of explanation, yet he willingly gave one without prompt. 

"Hey, Miroku?" Sango called. He glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes landing on her. "Thank you. I like your new haircut, by the way. Looks good on you."

His face flashed pink, lips parting slightly as if he were about to respond, but instead of words, the only thing he formulated was an inarticulate groan of some kind.

"You're gonna break him." Kagome stated.

"I know." Sango smiled proudly, the curve on her lips quickly falling away. She could sense that while Kagome feigned amused, the shift in her mood and in her lackluster expression was evident. She was justifiably upset and pulling a typical Kagome by trying to cover it up. Now that they knew the gist of what they were dealing with, Sango felt better equipped to help her handle it all. "So, do you want the straight-forward truth or gentle approach?"

"Both." Kagome sighed.

"You have every right to be upset right now. He hurt you. He's a jerk. But, if that's the way he wants to play, then he can do it alone - just like he wants. He'll realize his mistakes when he’s miserable. You gotta let it go, Kay. He's not worth this." Sango cocked her head sympathetically, rubbing the side of Kagome's arm. "So, you're gonna do what everyone does when they get their heart broken: You're gonna mope, you're gonna eat your weight in ice cream, and then you're gonna take the longest bubble bath of your life and wash him off of you."

"My heart's not broken." Kagome meagerly dismissed, a crooked smile on her face.

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"Because, we're talking about it." She shook her head, looking at the floor and smiling, as if it would shadow the emotion in her eyes. "It's like asking someone, 'What's wrong?' Even when they're completely fine, they'll still cry."

"Okay, here, I've got a plan! Yuka's birthday shindig is tomorrow." Sango wiggled her shoulders, a positive grin lighting her face. It hurt to see Kagome distraught, to hear the weakness in her voice as she fought back tears. A distraction was obviously necessary right now. "She's having it at that karaoke place on Tustin. I know you hate singing, but you can come and listen to me sing, which you know will be a good time. We'll get all nice and dolled up, look hot, feel good, laugh a little, it'll be fun. Plus, I think Hojo will be there." 

"So?" Kagome chuckled, catching her insinuating tone.

"First of all, the guy goes to an all-boy school now so let’s show him some compassion, alright? I'm pretty sure he's jonesing hard for the female specimen since the last time we saw him was months ago. He'll see you, he'll go all goo goo eyed like back in junior high, fall at your feet a little - I mean, if that's not great for the self esteem, I don't know what is." She shrugged. "I think it'll be good for you. Please say you'll go."

Kagome gestured for them to start walking out, her easy expression showing her lack of resolve. "Can I wallow on Sunday?"

"You may. I'll even join you, if you'd like. I could use some wallow time, myself." Sango replied, hooking her arm in Kagome's as she walked at her side.

"Why? What happened to you?"

"Miroku. Miroku happened to me."

—

Kagome and Sango giggled loudly as they made their way down the block, the street lights and storefronts lighting up the semi-populated area in the night. They'd gone to Yuka's birthday party, and she'd invited more people than anticipated, all of them squeezing into the karaoke room - some either having to stand or sit on laps. Sango, of course, sat on Kagome's. It was easy to tell that the blushing boy next to them really wanted to offer a seat, but the only way he could build up enough courage to do anything of the sort was by literally offering his seat over. He was so close at one point to patting on his lap in proposal to Kagome as she came back from the bathroom, Sango could see it written all over Hojo's face. It was amazing to see that even though they went to different schools, and he'd dated around, and Kagome clearly had no interest in him, the boy was still adorably smitten whenever they were around one another. He was more the gentleman type; not very bold, at all. So, watching him try to buck up the confidence necessary to blatantly hit on Kagome in front of everyone was interesting on its own, but Sango just couldn't let it get that far. She lurched forward and grabbed Kagome's hand, dragging her away and into her own lap before Hojo could mutter out a word.

"Be nice!" Kagome gently shoved her friend's arm, trying to swallow her laugh. "He's innocent!"

"I just don't get it! How does he still have it this bad for you? Do you think he's never gotten over the fact that you gave him his first kiss? That's gotta be it!"

"He was mine too, and I've gotten over it!”

“You were never under it. It was a dare.”

“Exactly. He probably doesn't actually have a crush on me, at all! I mean, think about it! It's most likely just harmless flirting."

"Kagome, have you not realized his name is an action among all the people that have ever gone to school with him? Have you never heard that!? Like, when someone is crazy about another but can't articulate that properly, they just fumble over themselves and try to tell them through hints or any other possible way besides outright saying it - like gifting bunion slippers - they're pulling a Hojo. He's got a reputation for a reason." Sango explained.

"Ah, so Miroku's a Hojo around you."

"You take that back!"

"You've got your very own Hojo." Kagome teased. 

"Friendship timeout! Thirty seconds!" Sango laughed.

“You’ve got a Hojo!”

"Oh, are we near The Square?" Sango asked, taking in their surroundings. Up ahead, the opening to the area was bright and bustling, orange lights strung from across store tops and posts decorating the environment and building the comfortable ambience for socializing. "I heard they have this really good coffee place! Let's get some!"

"Sango, it's past ten!" Kagome mentioned. "You're dad's gonna kill you if you come home wired."

"He won't be able to tell the difference between a caffeine buzz and the comedown from an outing." She dragged Kagome forward, attempting to scout out the place with her nose. Coffee beans guided her like the force, pulling her through the crowd and straight to the line that connected to the window for blessed java. "Want something?"

"No, thanks." She giggled, amused by Sango's addiction to the one thing her family forbid her to have.

"You're gonna leech off of mine, aren't you?"

"Just a sip." Kagome waited patiently next to her, her eyes drifting over the people hanging out and talking, eating food, drinking coffee, and generally seeming to be having a good time. It was a nice atmosphere, and ages seemed to vary from people her age to maybe early twenties. Feeling watched, she followed the sensation, spotting Inuyasha in a small group he was mingling with, golden eyes glued to her.

Even from the distance, she could determine his furrowed brows and straight-set lips showed he was unhappy, maybe even a little surprised to see her. The feeling was mutual, quite frankly. It’s like there were no safe zones. So, she returned the scowl, giving an exasperated roll of her eyes as she deliberately turned her back to him.

He'd caught her scent in the large-spread crowd, finding that lately he felt he'd be able to pinpoint it anywhere. He tried to ignore it, dismiss it as someone's annoyingly-similar perfume. It was no use. The aroma pulled his focus, bringing his attention to immediately land on the joyful girl. His stomach knotted uncomfortably, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, noticing how the lights from up above bounced off her skin to glow beautifully. Her hair was in successive waves, not how they usually fell; like, her black locks had been curled only for the strength of the spirals to fall away. Her makeup was nice, intended for a night out, eyes shadowed in blended browns that made the depth of her irises pop dangerously. Her getup was upsettingly appealing, a grey tank top loose on her torso while a tight, black skirt hugged the curves of her hips, topped off with flats and a red, plaid, unbuttoned long sleeve. What a cruel happenstance, salt sprinkling into the wound he'd carved on his own.

Of all places to come dressed like that. He'd told her it wasn't safe just a week ago, yet here she comes waltzing around like a human magnet for unwanted, male attention. Her stare was more brutal than her attire, coldly sneering at him like he'd done to her before. He didn't like it. It tasted acidic, her spite. His fingers began to flex at his side, even as he turned away to refocus on the conversation between Miroku and the other guy they stood with, agitation pressing him with her so near. He'd already noticed a couple of men check her out just as she and Sango appeared, topping the list of shit he wasn't liking at the moment. It was hard not to pay attention to it. It was hard to even pretend not to pay attention to it. The half demon peeked over, his jaw set and blood growing increasingly hotter, chest contracting on his inhale when he witnessed two guys talking to the two girls. Already. Jesus fucking christ, already! 

The guys were definitely older, and from their tones that he could just barely pick up over the multitude of conversations happening around, it wasn't a chat they were intending on keeping casual forever. One stepped a little closer, and just like that, Inuyasha was done.

Sango stirred her straw through her blended coffee while the guy closest to Kagome asked if the two of them would like to hang out with their group of friends. "We were just passing through, actually. Thanks, anyway.”

Kagome received the subtle head nod from Sango signifying it was time to go, the two of them flashing friendly smiles to the guys. Before they could make any further move, though, a hot-approaching person caught Kagome’s eye and she turned in time to see Inuyasha marching over, haughtily shoving himself between them and the two boys.

“Let’s go.” He all but growled, amber eyes burning through her.

“What?” The question was sharp on her tongue.

“Come on.” His voice was rough, deep, causing hesitance in her reaction, making Kagome have to force a response while she intentionally twisted her expression in defiance.

“No.”

“Now, Kagome.”

“Look, man, she doesn’t want to go with you.” One of the guys objected. 

Inuyasha steadily turned around to face the fucker, the hanyou standing a couple inches higher than him. The idiot was scrawny and human, easily no match for Inuyasha, his short-lived bravery fading away as the half demon stepped closer in a manner to size him up.

“Back the fuck off.” Inuyasha warned.

“We don’t want any trouble. You know her or something?”

Kagome held her breath, never once having seen this side of Inuyasha. He seemed menacing and large, and she swore she heard a threatening growl begin to rumble through his chest.

“Yeah. You?”

“We were kind of in the middle of getting to know them, so -“

“Well, that’s over.” He smiled condescendingly, spinning back to face Kagome. Without a second thought, Inuyasha crouched down, picking Kagome up and tossing her over his shoulder, carrying her off toward the back path they’d found each other on the week prior.

She hadn’t expected it in the least. One minute, Inuyasha was squared up with someone, the next she was being carried off in the world’s most awkward position, a yelp leaving her mouth as her feet left the ground. Kagome’s hands were braced on his mid back, trying to prop herself up so there wasn’t too much weight applied to her stomach against the bony part of his shoulder. His gait provided a little bounce that she swore was never there before, serving to jostle her slightly every few steps or so. Her hair had flung over her head, and with how she was positioned, it was difficult to push it all out of her sight, making it impossible to see the entirety of The Square’s reaction to the scene Inuyasha had just procured - which was probably for the best. No matter how much she told the half demon to put her down, or wriggled in his hold, he never did. Of course, her demands were cut off by multiple, frantic oh my god’s, and her movements were nothing more than baby kicks because she was terrified of being dropped. The guy probably didn’t even take her seriously.

Sango, in wild shock at Inuyasha’s barbaric attitude, hastily went to follow after her helpless friend, strong arms wrapping around her core to stop her mid stride. 

“Wait, wait, give him a chance.”

“Give him a - he literally stole Kagome!” She argued, pushing the arms away as she faced Miroku. 

“I know, he comes off horribly but I promise he means well!” He defended, the grimace deep on his face. “Just give them a few minutes to try and talk things through.”

“He means well…” Sango scorned, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Funny you say that, considering you literally told us yesterday that he ghosts people on the norm.”

“Valid point.” It was hard to argue against that. “You got me there. But, if he really wanted to ditch her, he would have never pulled a stunt like this. No matter the situation.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“You’re right! You’re absolutely right! All I’m asking for is a few minutes. His communication skills are questionable, but he might be coming around. Let’s not interrupt the possibility.”

Reluctantly, Sango huffed, giving in without another word. Miroku knew the guy better than anyone, and his conviction was heartfelt. It was almost impossible to believe that anything bad would happen with how he spoke. It was comforting. So, she’d trust him.

He watched her relax before him, though her arms stayed crossed, her brown eyes washing over him and around the area as she made no further move to follow their friends. All at once, it seemed as if a force had body slammed him, giving him no opportunity to inhale a breath as he took Sango in, his nerves going haywire like every fucking time before. She was gorgeous, mesmerizing, like no other woman he’d ever seen - in person. It was like he physically felt his expression fall into one of peril, his eyes wide as he tried to gather his bearings. She wore a dress, a wonderful, wonderful dress, that hugged her curves like he wanted to. The baby blue complimented her skin tone, her chocolate brown hair straight, and long, and flowing over her shoulders and the front of her body. He stared too long, uncontrollably so, and of course, she noticed, a frown marring her plush lips.

“What’s wrong?”

Oh god, how did he look right now? It took all the effort he had to aim for recovery, focusing on a single objective. It was like he was a young boy learning to flirt all over again, hopeless and awkward and desperate for love. A compliment. He had to compliment her. He had to compliment her.

“Y-you look - wow - um, that’s a - a dress that - no - you’re - you have pretty…” His stammering was worse than ever, tense and forced, his voice monotonous and robotic. He focused on her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her arms, her waist, her hips. “Thighs.”

Sango blinked, lips curling in distaste and confusion, completely taken aback. Was she supposed to thank him? The redness blistering the entirety of his face spoke volumes of how much he hated himself in that moment, his chest so still she wasn’t even sure he was breathing. Thighs. Of all things, he said her thighs were pretty. What was wrong with this guy?

“I could crush you.” She simply stated.

“Yeah. That’s hot.”

And with that, she took her leave, walking the path Inuyasha had carried Kagome away in.

Miroku was ready to cry. He was so close, so close, to an appropriate compliment and he blew it. The worst thing was, he still meant what he’d said. His body washed cold, and he felt empty, light, like he could drift away with the next breeze.

“Dude…” The two guys from before had remained, overhearing it all, equally mortified for him.

“I don’t know why!” Miroku wailed, begrudgingly following after Sango despite his humiliation. At this point, he was more inclined than ever to keep his distance from her.

Inuyasha placed Kagome on her feet, the girl grunting and stumbling backward from his unforgiving lack of gentleness. He caught her arms, stilling her, her hands quickly smacking him away and swinging around to pull her clothes down, desperately trying to ignore the underwear that had ridden up. “Jesus, Inuyasha, you had your hand on my ass that entire time!”

“Yeah, well if you weren’t wearing the world’s shortest skirt, I wouldn’t have had to pin it down to keep it from rising any higher!” The hanyou rebutted.

“You wouldn’t have had to keep it from rising if you didn’t go all ape man and chuck me over your shoulder!”

“If you didn’t say, ‘no,’ I wouldn’t have had to!”

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to not want to talk, but it’s perfectly fine the other way around!? You’ve been ignoring me for a week, Inuyasha, so why the sudden urgency!?”

He shook his head, a crooked grin pushing his cheeks, chuckling to taunt her. Nothing was humorous, he was just being a jerk. And, he was successfully infuriating her.

“No, in order to ignore you that would mean I’d have to care to a certain degree. I don’t. I see you around, I don’t care. I get a text from you, I just don’t care.”

Kagome rolled her eyes, slowly, antagonizingly. Yeah, sure. “Then, what’s so important? I mean, it must be important if you’re willing to break your silence.”

“Fuck it. If I say anything, you’ll just end up moping around for another week like you already have been.” He said, pulling the excuse right out of his ass. He had no good reason for snagging her. He had no good reason for anything. He just couldn’t stand the fucking sight of chummy pricks hitting on Kagome. He acted impulsively. Now, he was going to have to lie impulsively and end this so he could get a fucking grip over himself again. “Go home.”

“No! No! You don’t get to do that!” Kagome yelled, adrenaline heating her entire body and fueling her temper. “Why have you been such a dick to me lately!? Everything seemed fine before!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation!”

“The hell, you don’t! I’m on the receiving end of your crap! I have the right to know why!”

“God, you’re too much! Don’t you get it!? You’re too fucking much!” Inuyasha exclaimed, flailing his hands in exasperation. “I don’t even know how Sango deals with you all the time! You’re ridiculous! You’re so self-righteous, and you’re pushy as fuck! Once I realized you were getting a bit too close to me, I bowed out!”

“What do you mean, too close!?” It was hard to ignore the sting that was making home in her chest, carrying on further because it was too late to stop herself.

“What the hell does it sound like to you!? Think about it, Kagome! I swear, no one could possibly be that bad in school! It’s almost like you were purposely failing tests just to get me to come over!” His first mistake: eye contact while she took the hit. It was like some light faded from her rich irises. Still, like a train out of control, Inuyasha continued. “You give me your two cents as if your opinions are supposed to matter! You touch me, hug me! Geez, you like me and it's so fucking obvious!”

Hurt her pride, and she’ll leave. That was the plan. Whenever you throw out sensitive accusations like this, true or false as they may be, the natural reaction to the humility was to object, redirect the shame, and then walk away. He’d seen it so many fucking times, it was like clockwork.

The saliva she swallowed tasted bitter, a gelatinous denseness overfilling her stomach. He’d looked away, radiant eyes gazing at whatever he could except her. She hadn’t fully thought out a response. At this point, it was hard to form rational thoughts anymore, her voice coming from her lips of its own accord. Because, silence would only make him think he’d won. “I-I fail to see what’s wrong with that!”

Kagome had always compared the golden hues to that of embers, but as his eyes snapped back to her, the befuddlement, the surprise at her statement shifted the color to deepen, resembling the heat of an actual fire. Anger didn’t back up the change, as one would expect. In fact, she could physically feel his rage temporarily subside in the wake of this.

“I mean, really! What’s wrong with that!? So I liked you, big deal! Sorry it was inconvenient, but I never once tried for anything more, or ever expected you to reciprocate, so don’t act like I was next-level clingy and desperate for your attention! Because, I wasn’t and you know it! Why do you look so surprised right now, Inuyasha? Where’s your vicious reply? I mean, with the look you’re giving me, it’s almost like you had no idea I really did have feelings for you, which would only discredit your argument and -“ Her jaw dropped a little at her own realization. “You didn't, did you? What, were you just throwing out bullshit to try and make me look bad? To embarrass me!? What - what is that, a defense mechanism of yours?”

“Oh, fuck this.” Inuyasha blurted, the words tight in his throat. He turned around, beginning to walk away, the lining of his stomach burning while his chest twinged painfully. His fingers trembled, and he clenched them into fists, his breathing erratic. Mistake number two: allowing his nerves to get the better of him at her admittance. He didn’t know. She called him on everything, but he was so thrown by the reality that she really did care for him. “You’ve got it all wrong, but think whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I do! You’re not this mysterious book no one’s ever been able to open, you know!? I’m sure you wish you were, but you’re a bit too expressive for your own good! What’s this really about, Inuyasha!?”

“Shut up!” He barked, aiming it over his shoulder.

“Are you afraid of something!?”

He kept walking, the sigh he let out rigid and flaming, especially as he noticed Sango and Miroku watching from afar. He heard Kagome’s vexing laugh from behind, and it was like he'd walked full force into a wall, enclosed in a space with the bitch and having no other choice but to turn around and accept her challenge. 

“That’s it. I can’t believe I didn’t figure this out sooner.” Kagome said, astounded.

“What the fuck are you going on about!?” His face was red, furious, marching back over to her to continue on like he’d never tried to leave.

“It wasn’t just that I was getting close to you! You were getting close to me too, and it freaked you out!”

“Nothing scares me!”

“Bullshit! I scare you! You’re just not willing to admit it! It’s easier for you to blame me and play the big shot! You felt something for me, and that something wasn’t going away, and it terrified you! Because opening yourself up to someone means opening yourself up to someone potentially leaving! Right? But you, being who you are, always walk around with a pack of matches in one hand and a container of gasoline in the other just so you can burn your side of the bridge before the other person has the chance to burn theirs!”

“God, Kagome, shut up! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“Considering how upset you are, I think I’m pretty freaking close!”

“Why can’t you just let it go!?”

“I will when you own up! I’m right, aren’t I!? You’re the only one hurting you, Inuyasha!”

“If that’s the case, then why the fuck do you care so much!?”

“Why would you question that!?” Kagome flailed her arms, dumbstruck, her voice breaking from the unbridled emotion burning her throat. “If someone is willing to care, even after all of this, shouldn’t that be something you’re grateful for!? God, you think the entire world is out to get you, you’re willing to hand out blame like lottery tickets! Believe it or not, not everything will turn out as bad as you think it will! You just refuse to give anything or anyone a fucking chance! You’re so busy preventing anything from happening that you literally prevent anything from happening!”

They stood just inches apart, staring at each other with fury and outright condemnation. Their chests rose and fell heavily, hot breath filling the small space between them. His scowl uncreased, his features softening as it seemed he steadily regained control of himself. Inuyasha leaned closer, his eyes glossed over, causing Kagome’s breathing to sputter and hitch in her chest. His voice was low, gruff. Venomous. 

“You’re a waste of time.”

Everything inside her went cold. She wasn’t angry anymore, a dull blade silencing her temper. It was like she suddenly felt unsteady, the sensation starting calm and growing to a wobble, making Kagome feel as if she were swaying no matter how still her feet actually were. The argument wasn’t the waste of time, it was her. She was the waste of time. And, he wanted her to taste the poison in his sentiment. The only thing he could have said that would have been more painful than this was that he hated her. She could only guess that was next on his tongue. Brown eyes drifted to his chest and the black shirt that covered it, down to his stomach that seemed to blur with the sting of tears she was trying to fight off, down to his dark jeans as her face contorted slightly before she resumed control, then to the tiny spaces of the cement that separated their shoes.

Mistake number three: hurting her so badly, he'd hurt himself.

He lost control. He lost sight of the purpose of everything. The words just came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean them. Everything he’d said to her up until this point was mean and distasteful, but this was unmatched. He crossed a line; immediately, he knew it. Kagome didn’t deserve this. She was good. Kagome was good. And, she was right about everything. Inuyasha could hear his blood pumping in his ears, feel his heart thumping aggressively. The quiver in her chin halted his breathing, and the salt he suddenly smelled tasted like his acrid punishment. Frozen, he just listened to her unsteady breathing as her composure visibly wavered, dragging him lower and lower. He shouldn’t have said it, but it was too late. There was nothing he could do now.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Kagome whispered, her voice not cooperating. There was nothing in her that could convincer her to look directly at him. If she did, she’d fold. She began to back away, creating distance, her body shaky and light. The damage was done. She wished she'd never pushed him for answers. Sometimes it was better to be ignorant. It was hard to swallow that someone, Inuyasha, thought so little of her. All she wanted now was to go home. She just wanted to go home, get away from him, stay away from him for good.

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