#but they also attack yachts and that is funny

[wildsidejazz]

Sagwan's and other seafolk's view of life makes so much more sense when you remember orcas terrorize the oceans, smacking seals in the air with such force that when they land their skin tears and the only ones who can do a thing about them are humpback whales.

[aesterblaster]

Bad Dogs Can Learn New Tricks

Which Blue Lock Characters Have Gone To Therapy, In My Humble Opinion. (+ Who Desperately Needs To But Hasn't + Who Might In The Future)

Warnings: Some spoilers for way past the U-20 Arc, also not an extensive list of characters, honestly kind of funny. I wasn't trying to be TOO serious

Songs: Falling Behind / Laufey , The Main Character / Will Wood , Nothing's New / Rio Romeo

Has Gone To Therapy And Loves Their Therapist Gang

-Anri, There is no way she is able to have that much patience and take that much shit from corporate without having a therapist. I think she uses like 1/5th of her paycheck on books about improving your life and stuff like that LMAO. Her therapist is also a woman so it helps her to have someone who understands her frustrations with not really getting credit despite being one of the founders of Blue Lock. Also sometimes she gets worried she's unethical towards the boys so that weighs on her.

-Kenyu, Look it's still in progress ok? He was just starting before he came to Blue Lock. Once he realized he was going to lose his vision he started working with a professional and found it really helpful. In fact they were the one who encouraged him to go after Blue Lock in the first place. One of the reasons he was so quick to say sorry to Isagi is because he has those #coping skills.

-Gagumaru, After having a run in with a bear in the woods he kept having nightmares and his parents made him go to therapy. Well it was kindddd of therapy..it was a hippie who's a family friend. That doesn't mean he doesn't know grounding techniques. He even taught Naruhaya how to calm down from a panic attack once. But yeah, he doesn't really tell people that he went to therapy

-Snuffy, After his best friend's death he went to therapy ASAP. The type to only call his therapist once every 5 months and still have a rock solid relationship with them. His therapist helped him break his womanizing habit and realize that he's enough all on his own. 100% did some soul searching and stepped away from the scene. He also combined the therapist with a personal trainer to really max out his healing process. 100/10 dude for it.

"I Have Gone To Therapy And It Didn't Work" Crew

-Chigiri, Similar to Kenyu, his parents thought he might need some mental health help after the trauma of thinking he'd never be an athlete again. But he was one of those cold shoulder my mom is forcing me to do this cases. He never actually worked through what he might do if this whole thing falls through. Also snarkiness 100, his therapist almost quit because he was so insulting to them. Chigiri just felt ashamed that his parents even thought he should go in the first place and convinced his sister to also beg them to stop taking him lmao.

-Isagi, Okay at some point his parents realize he takes faliure wayyy too hard and tried to get him in therapy. When he talked to the therapist though the dude was like "Yeah, he's just competitive. Nothing wrong here." Alas, he's been masking for so long that he's incapable of revealing his issues to anyone who hasn't known him for 3 years or plays sports with him. Also, he convinced himself he doesn't need it and then idly imagines just going apeshit and killing his enemies to cope with stress...like bro...

-Noa, Why do you think he gets along with Isagi? All jokes aside, his PR people probably asked him to do it and he went and then secretly never went back. It honestly didn't work because he wasn't willing to give it a chance. And still isn't!!!! Would rather backflip off of a yacht than tell someone in a lounge chair about how growing up in intense poverty still haunts him sometimes, makes him question his worth and avoid conflict in day to day life. Sometimes he wonders if one day he'll wake up and find out it was all a dream....But nah he doesn't need therapy!

-Oliver, He was soooo close to actually getting his mental health in check but then his therapist retired. After that he got another really seasoned one and saw the amount of case files in his desk and just felt like a straight up burden. One of those "other people have it worse" and "it is what it is" guys. He's very open about his emotions and feelings so he just talks to his friends when he's really struggling. (Even though Sendou never says the right things-) Like yeah it's their job but why bug these nice people when sex?? Why talk about issues in sessions when he can get drunk or go train for 4 hours??? Riddle him that?

The "I Need Therapy And I Know It" Team

-Ness, He has so many fucking issues. Honestly, despite his devout worship of Kaiser he does realize that his behavior isn't quite healthy or normal. Dude tries to show you a funny video on his phone and all of his ads are for Betterhelp. Genuinely trying to figure out a diagnosis. Yes he has looked up all sorts of personality disorders and no he doesn't think he has any of them (He has at least two). But again, Ness is self aware enough to know that some help or someone to talk to who sees him as an actual human being would be nice.

-Niko, He cannonicaly describes himself as very very introverted and nerdy, also he hides his face. Tell me you were bullied in school or at least had an extremely traumatizing incident without telling me. Kind of never had anyone, just people who hung around because of his soccer skill or avoided him like the plague. He is that guy who will rant about "society" online for hours and fantasize about moving to a different country thinking he'd get better treatment there. Cripplingly lonely and self conscious at the end of the day, in all honesty. Also he genuinely wants a therapist but just can't afford one.

-Hiori, Obviously his parents are the ones who stop him. He tries to go and his mom realizes where he's making her drive him and swerves off. Even when he gets his license, you just know they're tracking everywhere he goes. He doesn't have enough privacy to really get better like that, Hiori has to wait until he moves out. Still genuinely fucked up by the fact that Gagumaru has gotten therapy and he hasn't. Just listens to emo music and plays video games and pretends that that fixes everything. He's totally releasing a top-selling book about his horrible childhood after Blue Lock.

-Bachira, Is he outgoing and silly? Yes. Does he need better coping skills? Also yes. Men will tell you the most horrible and traumatizing childhood memories about getting jumped and then laugh it off, and it's him, Bachira is men. He ties to brush off his trauma with humor but it never really works. He knows that he genuinely needs to talk to someone other than Isagi or his mom about the Monster and how it was by his side for so long. But also never goes through with getting professional help, just thinks about it sometimes.

The "What's Therapy? Fuck You!" Group

-Kaiser, Oh god, don't even suggest it to him. I headcannon that mental illness kind of runs in his family. He's watched family members be taken away for being too out there and openly mentally ill so he has a reason to not trust doctors. Just associates therapy and things like it with abusive institutions. If he told a therapist all of his issues, he'd probably be sent to a psyche ward. Just the threat of being sent there single handedly kept him from killing himself or talking about his feelings when he was younger. He will continue to just be slightly abusive to the people around him thank you very much.

-Ego, Bro's got the government banning him from soccer and you think he's thinking of therapy? When Anri tells him he needs it offhand, he's like, revenge is my therapy. Insane as fuck but thinks that it's a good thing. He is not willing to talk about his issues to anyone, but especially not someone who will write it all down. Genuinely ruined a few relationships in his past because the main people he attracts are the "I Can Fix Him" people and it just never works. Suprisingly unself aware for how much he analyzes others.

-Barou, His main issue is just shame and failed gifted kid syndrome. But as soon as he's back up he's convinced he doesn't need help. Barou suffers from really high highs and really low lows but he also has the mental fortitude to handle it. He is a well adjusted and kind enough person outside of the soccer field so he never considers that he needs therapy. When he feels bad about himself he hits the gym but he's never really opened up to anyone and he sure isn't going to start once he gets more famous. Especially when he's seen as one of the best right now, can't risk his reputation.

-Rin, He's would rather gut himself with a sword than admit that his mental illness doesn't make him a cool loner wolf and just a lonely person who hasn't healed his inner child. Kind of just wants someone to baby him and tell him everything's going to be alright but in the mean time his barriers are up 24/7. He disdains therapy, thinks that he'd just be seen as a pay check and he kind of isn't wrong. Rin would rather pay money for expensive cleats than spend it for someone to suggest him breathing exercises. He also had a traumacore phase, but he'd rather not talk about it.

[angelicsjn]

how are the six yanderes with a friendly s/o? Like no matter the gender, they're js very friendly. I can only imagine niko's reaction 😭😭 ANYWAYS I LOVE UR WORKS KEEP IT UP!! <33

Thank you so much, angel!

YOUR SIX YANDERES.

— ROMAN CORNELIUS JAMES BEAUREGARD.

This honestly makes Roman happy.

He finds it hard to connect to people on a personal scale, so he would initially be very interested in you based on how you treat others - no matter who they are.

Plus, while in a relationship it only aids him and his image. How can he be a mean and tough person if his partner is the epitome of kindness?

The journalists are obsessed with you and your drace, how you bright up every photo and the fans can't help but love you.

But Roman doesn't get jealous easy, he's secure in himself and your relationship.

Befriend his teammate, have dinners with the other wags, go to parties in Monaco with him and drink champagne on yachts with his closest friends!

Everybody knows better than to cross Roman Beauregard and his shiniest trophy.

— LATEN REED.

He's very kind himself! So he loves it. Two sunshines are better than one.

At times he would prefer you to be more standoffish, he doesn't like that nasty twinge he feels in his chest when you laugh at one of his teammates jokes a little too hard, but it still makes him happy that his friends and family like you.

Anyway, nobody will threaten your relationship; they're a dumb person if they do because well... Have you seen the size of him?

In general, he adores your kindness and appreciates the positivity you give him after a bad day, but sometimes he suffers a sad case of jealousy.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

Oh boy...

He HATES it. It annoys him. So. Fucking. Much.

Why are you smiling at that stranger?

Why do you laugh at their jokes? They aren't even funny.

Stop complimenting the colour of that persons T-shirt. Compliment him!

He goes borderline insane and blames you for almost causing him a bullying scandal online due to his jealous rage.

He will water it down, take all of that kindness and keep it for himself.

He's selfish, in every way possible.

— KAIDAN ALEXANDER WOLFE.

He doesn't really notice it at first since he's around very 'happy' people all of the time.

He just believes that you're being nice to look good, to make friends. Maybe you're lying.

Even better - you're saying it subliminally to him...

He wore red yesterday, obviously you're complimenting the girls red coat as a hint. Duh!

But he also takes notes. Whatever you like in a person, he will become.

Just for you, darling!

— HAYDEN WEST.

It makes his life a whole lot easier as regards to communication with him.

If you speak first, show openess and kindness, he feels more confident because you can carry the initial conversations until his nerves have settled.

He does feel jealousy at times, especially if you show more interest in someone else; someone better than him; someone more desirable than him.

Hayden isn't mean, it's not who he is. Much like you he prefers kindness but being kind doesn't get the girl, not usually, so seeing you bond with others so freely makes him feel under attack.

what if you find better?

— JOSHUA WHITE.

He loves it.

He loves your kind nature, your giving self. He loves how you attract so much energy and spread so much love.

You truly are an angel sent down to love, to love the earth and its people.

To love him.

It reminds him that there is good on earth and that God believes he is worthy of such a gem.

[sainz-leclerc]

hey can i resquest one with pierre gasly with a mix of both nsfw and swf list. From the swf list nr 3, 10, 13 and 34. From nsfw nr 5, 14, 21 and 45.

Of course you can 💕😚

Srry for keeping it a bit short but I’m currently working on a Pierre fic and I’m putting all my smutty material for Pierre into it ;)

Also , I won’t be doing 21. cause I already did the prompt for him :) check it out

Prompts ( nswf and swf list ) : 3. “Look how perfectly you fit in my arms” 10. “Absolutely no” “pleaseeee” “nu-uh , so not happening” 34. “You don’t know the difference between left and right ?” “…” “how ?” / 5. “God the things I would do to you if we weren’t in public” 14. “Straddle me. Right fucking now” and 45. “Who do you belong to huh ?”

Spending the whole day with Pierre on his yacht was a dream . You spent the whole day swimming , tanning and overall just enjoying each other’s presence .

With Pierre’s busy schedule , the two of you learned to cherish every moment you had with each other .

You were currently basking away in the sun when the french man came over to you , pulling you into his lap , hugging you close .

“Pierre” you giggled while your boyfriend was tickling your face with kisses “you’re ruining my tan”

“But ma chérie , look how perfectly you fit in my arms” Pierre made his point by giving your hips a little squeeze .

Smiling , you turned around in his hands so you were face to face . Kissing him , you murmured “I’m bored”

Pulling back from you , the AlphaTauri driver was met with a playful pout “what do you want to do mon amour ?”

Thinking for a second you came up with the perfect idea .

“I want to go on a ride with your jet ski” you smiled up at him

He thought for a second before nodding “yeah we could definitely do that , let me ju-”

“But I want to drive” you cut him off .

Pierre looked at you dumbstruck for a second before letting out a loud belly laugh .

“What so funny ?” You fake pouted.

“You ? In control of the jet ski ? Absolutely no” the french man teased you , a smirk laying comfortably on his lips .

Maybe a bit of whining will brake him “pleaseee”

“Nu-uh , so not happening” he shook his head , standing up with you hanging from him like a koala.

Making his way to where the jet ski was , just as he was about to get on it and tell you to hop up behind him , Pierre looked at your pouty face .

Safe to say , he cracked “ Okay fine , you can drive today”

Excitement took over your face as you attacked the driver with sweet kisses, making him erupt in a smile.

After putting on your safety vests , you got onto the jet ski , Pierre right behind .

He took ahold of your hands and placed them over the control handles .

“Okay so right is for speed , left is for descending break . If you need an immediate break , just pull this orange cord and the jet ski will stop”

You didn’t say anything for a second which worried Pierre. “Everything okay ma chérie ?”

“Um , maybe now is not the best time to tell you this but i have no idea which is left and which is right” you cringed at him .

The french man behind you processed for a second before “ you don’t know the difference between left and right ?”

“…”

“how ?” Pierre asked in disbelief .

Let’s just say , that afternoon sure was eventful.

~

After some practice , and Pierre finally explaining to you which is right and which is left , you finally got the hang of it and had a lot of fun .

Right now you were walking down the seaside on a beautiful beach .

You were dressed in flowy summer dress , bare foot with your hair messy from the earlier ocean water while Pierre was wearing some swimming trunks and a casual button down .

Pierre was walking a few steps behind you , wanting to admire his beautiful girlfriend .

Seeing a beautiful seashell in front of you , you bent down to pick it up , not thinking much of it .

Unbeknownst to you , just as you bent , your whole ass was on display for Pierre . Your little bikini bottoms covering up right what he wanted most .

That’s when his dick took over.

Straightening back up , you felt Pierre press himself against you , pressing soft kisses to your neck .

Thinking he was just in a cuddly mood , you pressed yourself into him . It’s when you felt his hard on , you realized his sudden clinginess was not so innocent .

Feeling your bum so close to his cock , he groaned “ Merde ma chérie , the things I would do to you if we weren’t in public”

Giggling , you quickly scanned the area .

“The beach is almost empty Pierre”

That’s all it took him to take you into his arms bridal style and start marching you up into a secured corner.

Luckily for him , there was small cave somewhere near the entry of the beach , inside a perfect rock for him to sit on just waiting for the two of you .

Dropping you to your feet , he started sucking hickeys into your skin . You moaned , loving the feeling of his lips against your skin .

“Who do you belong to huh ?”

“You Pierre , only you”

The AlphaTauri driver almost cummed in his pants at the sound of his name on your lips .

He quickly sat down on the rock , waiting for you to join him on his lap . When you didn’t Pierre started fuming . “Straddle me. Right fucking now”

And with that he pulled you into his lap , bringing you back into a bruising kiss.

[zahri-melitor]

Newish Comics:

Birds of Prey #7: things that make me happy this issue: Barbara is back, she's in Dinah's ear, she's choosing to work from her computers rather than go out in the field herself (but still went to speak to Mari in person! This is a great balance!). The story is immediately digging into Sin's new connection to the Green. Barda and Cass together remains immaculate.

The lineup of Barbara-Dinah-Barda-Cass-Mari-Maps is FAR more my speed than the last one.

Blue Beetle #7: what is really fun about this was depicting time travel via art style, and picking out art styles that DO look like those books. Like, for instance Jaime's third stop is CLEARLY during Blue Beetle #1-25 (2006) because it has the correct weird deformed-people quirks. This storyline feels completely written as a tribute to Keith Giffen himself, given the characters and the periods Jaime visits, and it's sweet.

Shazam! #9: And it's a random appearance of Jack Ryder being as annoying as the Creeper generally is! I did snort at him tricking Billy into transforming, but compared to the rest of Waid's run it just feels like a fill as their changeover dates didn't line up. Excited to have Josie Campbell next month.

The Bat-Man: First Knight #1: Opened this out of curiosity. This is mostly having fun being a period piece with Golden Age of Hollywood aesthetics and intact late 30s politics. It's a Monster Men retelling, which is funny, as it makes the THIRD Monster Men story I've read in a week (it's not explicit on panel yet that it is one...but it's totally one).

The Warlord #42: this week in Skartaris Shamballah is being attacked by the Therans. Travis fights them, first with his sword Hellfire and then with a laser rifle Shakira acquires from...somewhere. Don't ask too many questions of the cat lady who wears a spiked collar at all times.

Shakira then decides to disappear off on her own adventures after handing over the laser rifle, as cat. Possibly because she finally clued into the fact Travis and Tara are A Thing.

Travis then fights his way to the gates of Shamballah to support Tara...only to find she has been captured by the Therans!

(the fine bondage tradition of this comic continues)

This is pretty dull, but fortunately for me, Jennifer Morgan's yacht failed to return to the real world and she's just been swept ashore in a life raft!

now admittedly everything about this panel looks sus as fuck, but I hear great things will eventually result from it. Also the fact that everything Jen wears here is pink remains hilarious to me.

To catch up on: I need to sit down and get up to date with Batman but I'm still taking a break from Joker. Third issue of Power Pack Into the Storm is on my desk and I haven't opened it yet.

[mellonyhater]

I've always liked to play with fire~

Fact 1: The very concept of this art came from the line "stand back and watch the castle fall" from Poor Man's Poison - Pressure Cracks. I drew and didn't want to stop. I also made myself a whole explosive playlist for drawing hahaha

Fact 2: I drew art for my laptop screensaver, otherwise the standard one is already wildly infuriating.

Fact 3: The pose reference is from the Attack on Titan anime. Just half a year ago, there was one not funny trend in TikTok with that moment, I suddenly remembered it and decided that it would be a brilliant idea to take it.

Here are a couple more songs for you:

× Princess Chelsea - The Cigarette Duet

× Poor Man's Poison - Feed the machine

× Mother Mother - Wrecking Ball

× Set It Off - Killer In The Mirror

[reinabeestudio]

That Obyn post got more love than I expected, so I’ve decided to share all information I got related to him. But that’d make it a short post, so I’m sharing my other favorite Heroes as well (Quincy, Benji and Captain Churchill)💌

I wrote down everything I could find, but I might have missed stuff or got something wrong. And don’t take these too seriously, this is something I did for myself. Nothing is set in stone!

Obyn

The spirits he uses to attack return to him.

“Nature’s spirits will never be diminished, only transformed.”

Ocean Obyn is called Ocyn apparently (idk bro)

Bigger than dart monkeys!

Much older than he looks (old as the forests)

Likes taking long walks along the beach during Summer.

Second most cuddly

Goes hiking a lot

Very fuzzy

His pet (the spirit wolf cub) is called Fluffy

Likes mint ice cream

Raised by wolves??? (a mess at the dinner table)

Likes philodendrons

Favorite color is green

Likes to make fresh salads that he brings to eat at his friends’ places

Tends to supervise Gwen's visits to the forests

MIGHT do knitting and macrame (not sure of this one tho)

Quincy

Tells a lot of puns.

Has a crush on Gwen! Think she’s very cool (Might be one-sided…)

Implied he already confessed (again, one-sided??)

Practises with his bow in his free time.

Or hang out with the other heroes!

Fourth most cuddly

Biggest crybaby

Needs a hug… (yes this is vital canon information)

Still hunting for that DDT (Cyber Quincy lore ig)

Has the biggest wardrobe

Loves a good photoshoot and likes to practice by striking poses lol

Gets real sad when somethings gets past his bow (F in the chat)

Tried to teach Pat how to use his bow but it was a too small.

Surprisingly buff! (Due to the draw force of his bow)

Does his own haircut

Sometimes like to use darts

All the dart monkeys like him!

Cries the most out of all the heroes

Eats banana porridge for breakfast

Favorite color is orange

Hosted a party on New Year’s Eve (everyone came!)

Apparently the best athlete (he’s very talented)

Thinks crossbows are lazy (lmao)

Benjamin

Shaves his eyebrow to look cool.

Big PC gamer, loves MOBAs

Wears formal clothes because likes to feel fancy

Likes to work out

Might not have went to school???

Has his own mixtape as a DJ

LOVES karaoke

Makes synthwave music, also listens to dubstep

Favorite type of sushi is California Roll

Favorite color is silver

Seems to like anime?? (apparently he watched Sword Art Online)

The Biggest Narcissit™

Hides in his room with the AC up in Summer

Might secretly listen to Mariah Carey (All I Want For Christmas is- )

Has many computers/mobile devices at his disposal

Sixth most cuddly

Yells BENJAMMIN IS IN THE HOUSE when he’s home (based)

Likes shawarma

Has a private yacht

Did helpdesk at some point!

Funnels his anger through memes (LMAO)

Captain Churchill

‘Passionate devotee of the surfboard, first monkey to ride the River Severn’s 5ft tidal bore. He even designed his own board!’

That is to say, he enjoys surfing

Bonds over old military movies with Striker Jones

Really likes driving his tank around lol

The best at chess

Uses all limbs + tail to operate his tank!

Likes black coffee with tons of sugar (sweet as him)

Third most cuddly

Wields the power of comradery (?)

Likes to play World of Tanks (lol)

Friends with Admiral Brickell! Trained together

Enjoys manga and anime (favorite anime: Fullmetal Alchemist)

Favorite color is green

Has a huge underground bunker full of tanks. Or so he says!

Tank has a secret banana stash (and who knows what else)

Third shortest, barely taller than Etienne (confirmed as a MANLET)

Sometimes plays cards with Striker Jones and Brickell

Great poker face!

Lives fairly close to Admiral Brickell and Striker Jones, tends to carpool to the army base with the latter

When he doesn’t feel like talking, he’ll slowly slide into his tank and shut the lid... funny to watch if you aren’t the one trying to talk to him.

His tank got many modifications!

Seat height adjustment, flexible antenna, a built in goggle finder (usually points to his head), and full transformation upgrades

He made the sand sculpture in Resort

[triviareads]

Who are your favorite dilfs in romance books?

Tremont from M is for Marquess by Grace Callaway: He's a widower with a son Thea saves from getting kidnapped by his governess; Tremont's also been obsessed with Thea since he met her but is *too afraid* to act on his feelings because he's *depraved* and Thea's *so innocent*. Spoiler alert: she isn't and she isn't going to let her poorish health and asthma stop her from being with this man; there's a light M/s dynamic, and it's also very reminiscent of Win and Kev from Seduce Me At Sunrise by Lisa Kleypas.

Max from My Dirty Duke by Joanna Shupe: Max is Violet’s ne'er-do-well dad’s equally slutty friend; He’s 41 and has a teenage son and she’s 18 and he’s been frantically avoiding her since the start of her season until she corners him by pretending to be his paramour. She’s also very into photography and ye olde nudes are taken (front AND back).

Haddon from Wicked Again by Kathleen Ayers: Haddon is 40 and has a teenage daughter and Marissa is 49 with three(?) grown sons. He seduces her at a house party (in the beginning of the book!) and wants more but Marissa is busy enacting revenge plots against the family that killed her husband. He attempts to get close again by asking her to help him with his daughter's debut, but ultimately what does the trick is him dicking her down multiple times while telling her "we're MORE than a fling".

Sinclair from Rules for a Proper Governess by Jennifer Ashley: Sinclair McBride aka BASHER MCBRIDE is a BLOND widowed barrister who hires the gal who tries to pickpocket him as his children's governess because she has a way with them. Bertie is super fascinated with him and actually kinda stalks him (which is how she gets the job lol) and there's this really funny part where she's suuuuper jealous of his widowed lady friend and freaks out on him, only for it to end with him SUCKING THREE OF HER FINGERS IN HER MOUTH. Insanely hot, v unexpected.

Simon from The Secret She Kept in Bollywood by Tara Pammi: Suuuuch a dilf, I mean really, who else could successfully calm a random woman having a panic attack on the floor, and then tenderly make love to her like 10 seconds later in such a smooth transition? Simon is also the adoptive father of Anya's biological daughter who she had as a teenager and gave up, not that either of them know that when they hook up.

Enzo from Mafia Madman by Mila Finelli: okay but for all his insanity and propensity to lock Gia up in his yacht cage, Enzo is actually a good dad who's really cut up about having to be separated from his kids for their own safety; there's this really interesting bit where he's telling Gia about teaching his daughter how to ride a two-wheeler and Gia's sadly thinking about how her dad never taught her :( and that's a peak dilf/dad/daddy moment for me.

Here are some that are specifically ex's dad (so totally dilfs) books:

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Uninvited

If you thought the infamous mutant killer bunny film NIGHT OF THE LEPUS (1972) was really really scary, then Greydon Clark’s mutant killer cat film UNINVITED (1987, Shudder, Tubi) is the fancy feast for you. Of course, if you laughed your posterior off at the former, you may need medical attention after viewing the latter. Scientific experiments have left a tiger striped tabby with the ability to shoot a bad puppet out of its mouth that immediately grows to medium dog size and kills or lethally infects anybody it doesn’t like. Talk about your meow mess! An early scene in which it takes out two men after they beat and rob someone who had fed it suggests the movie that might have been. I think a killer kitty taking out miscreants would be a great concept, and I’d be happy to write it up once the WGA strike is over. And I shall call it “Pussy Revenge.” Meanwhile, in this film it’s picked up by a college girl (Shari Shattuck, clearly playing a legacy admission) on spring break who brings it on board a yacht whose corrupt owner (Alex Cord) wants to shag her. She also brings along some frisky friends to replace the crew Cord has driven off, and they all set sail for the Cayman Islands, where Cord has stashed his ill-gotten gains. The cat has other ideas. Even without the ludicrous puppet, the sight of people trying to chase down the kitty is hilarious. The attacks are so unconvincing, you may never stop laughing. Cord and fellow criminals George Kennedy and Clu Gulager don’t act as if this were a stinker hardly anybody would see. They actually deliver performances that are worth watching, and Gulager is very funny as the team’s nebbish hit man. The women, however, are hopeless, but then, I don’t think they were cast for their acting abilities.

[theliterateape]

An Open Letter About Ethics from Brett Kavanaugh

by Joe Janes

Hey, America!

It’s Supreme Court Justice and Catholic middle school girls basketball team coach Brett Kavanaugh. Go, Blessed Sacrament! Win one for old Coach K. And God. And for all the fetuses who hope to some day be able to grow up and play Christian basketball.

There’s been a lot of news dribbling out of the left lately about my good friend Clarence Thomas and his so-called ethics violations. First of all, let me say that Clarence is one of the best men I have ever worked side-by-side with. Or side-by-side-by-side if you consider his patriotic wife Ginny, which I do. They are the John and Yoko of the Supreme Court.

My colleague is being persecuted just because he happens to have a rich friend. Well, if that’s a crime, lock me up! I have lots of rich friends. People can’t help it if they are wealthy. Many of them are born that way. Should I judge them based on the size of their wallet? If I did that, all my friends would be poor and that’s no fun.

The liberal media has also had their panties in a bunch over Harlan Crow, Clarence’s billionaire buddy, being a history buff. I love history. If I fall asleep on the couch watching a History Channel documentary about the Third Reich, does that make me a Nazi lover? To be clear, that answer is nein. My hand was in my pants because that’s comfortable. There was nothing funny going on. It’s how I sleep.

Look, I’ve met Harlan. He’s a good guy. True American. I went with Clarence once to one of his weekend visits to Harlan’s Texas bunker. Yes, we flew down on Crow’s private jet, but you have to understand that’s just how billionaires are. It’s no different than if your aunt picked you up in her VW to take you to lunch. To us, it was nice to conveniently fly in comfort, but to Crow that was nothing but a little thing someone who likes you does. His private jet and luxury yacht are his versions of an aunt’s VW. We shouldn’t oppress him for being loaded. He’s just a regular guy. We had a fun weekend. We sat in his jacuzzi and drank PBR out of Hitler’s boot. We were just a couple of good old boys enjoying a beer naked and wet. If you hate that, you hate America. Simple as that.

Just because Harlan’s opinions often line up with Clarence’s judgements doesn’t mean he’s influencing the court. If just means Clarence knows how to pick like-minded rich friends. Like we all do. So, please stop these senseless attacks on us justices. We’re just trying to do our jobs while also trying to have a debt-free social life.

God Bless America!

Justice Brett “Coach K.” Kavanaugh

[joheunsaram]

glitter and disquiet (jjk) - final

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

Summary- Poised to inherit Korea’s largest gaming company in a few months, the world looks at Jeon Jungkook as a symbol of envy. Why wouldn’t they? He has everything, riches, power, and according to the rumour mill, endless women. Little do they know that his father’s company is on the verge of downfall, he barely has respect of his employees, and regardless of the rumours, he’s just a virgin saving himself for true love.

word count -  17.6k

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader

rating- R

genre- angst, smut, fluff, chaebol!au

warnings- virgin!Jungkook, mentions of cheating, divorce, open relationships, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, car accident, hospitals, alcoholism, depression, vanilla smut including unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), lots and lots of crying and misunderstandings, Jungkook a lowkey asshole in this, Jungkooks also a big Dawson’s Creek fanboy (see his boat lol)

a.n- And we’re finally at the end of this story! It took a while but there were a lot of strings to tie in this story. I hope you enjoy the ending and that I did justice to this version of our overly-romantic jk.

A big warm thank you to @oftenderweapons @hobiandsprite  for beta reading this and helping me plan it out! ily guys you keep me sane and happy 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

-

It’s a funny thing, trust. We give it away so easily, almost on the daily. We trust that drivers racing past us on a highway are capable enough not to crash into us. We trust that the high school student making our coffee wouldn’t tamper with it. We trust the coworkers we are paired with for a big project not to sabotage our efforts for a promotion. But most of all, we trust strangers we have only spent mere months with not to break our hearts.

You trusted Jungkook, laying naked in bed in a random room on that yacht, with a giddy smile on your face. You stared at the opulent ceiling, decorated with ornate designs carved into the pale oak. It was beautiful — a criss-cross of vines that overlapped each other, but regardless of the intricacies it was an odd optical illusion of sorts, leaving you a little uneasy. The vines seemed as if they were moving, the slight rocking of the river making it vividly overwhelming. 

Taking a deep breath you averted your gaze, burrowing into the sheets, suddenly cold. Perhaps it was sea sickness, but suddenly you felt a little anxious. You laid there for a while, waiting for Jungkook to return but when half an hour passed and his phone kept going to voicemail, you decided to change back into your dress. 

You bit your lip as you texted him while fixing your hair in the mirror attached to one of the walls near the door. As the minutes ticked by without a response, you felt worry settle in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook wasn’t someone who would abandon you like that, without a word — especially after the intimate moment you had just shared. 

Walking into the hallway, you decided to go look for your boyfriend. It felt odd thinking about him as your boyfriend. In fact, it felt odd thinking about Jungkook as anything other than the cold playboy from your class that you loved to bicker with. You couldn’t help the giddy smile on your face as a montage of your month together played in your head. They way he had gone from the reserved quiet man to the doting one who never shut up about the latest game he was playing. 

The party was still in full swing when you reached the deck, and when after a few rounds around the dance floor and bar you still hadn’t seen Jungkook, you felt your worry return. You didn’t even see his friends, and you couldn’t help the chill that climbed up your spine at the realization. Something had to be wrong.

Before you could dwell too much on worst case scenarios you heard your name being called. 

Hoseok stood behind you when you turned, face pale, hair dishevelled from running his fingers through it as he spoke in flurried words that were hard to understand. He seemed panicked, fidgeting with his tie as he loosened it in an attempt to breathe more easily.

“Hoseok, calm down. What’s wrong?” you asked, bracing your hands on his shoulders and breathing deeply, encouraging him to mimic your movements.

“Candy was in an accident. Jungkook too. Hospital. Let’s go.” His words were still rapid, but the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name you felt your heart drop, your ears ringing with static. 

You followed Hoseok to the water taxis, the two of you almost sprinting and thanking your luck that there was one already waiting. It was a quick drive to the hospital, with Hoseok breaking almost every single traffic law to arrive faster while you sat, willing your heart to slow down. He couldn’t leave you. Not after a month. Not after just asking you to be his girlfriend.

You tried not to tear up, but Hoseok was mute from the moment he started driving, jaw set and a hand playing with his ear for comfort. He never elaborated on either person’s condition, and all you could think of was how fleeting everything seemed. You thought of Jungkook on top of you, leaning on his forearm as he nuzzled your nose with his, his eyes shining brightly, cheeks blushed as he asked you to be his girlfriend. Of his stupid wink as he told you to stay naked that you rolled your eyes at. The more the scene looped in your head, the harder the lump in your throat became, heart pounding. Don’t be negative. He’s fine. He’s going to be absolutely fine.

You repeated the mantra, forcing your eyes to remain dry, as Hoseok and you raced through the doors of the hospital. The same one where you had kept Jungkook company as he stayed with his mother. You held back the tears, all through Hoseok’s questioning of the head nurse on duty. Held them back while she informed the two of you of how they had been t-boned on the highway into the city, how Candy was rushed into surgery, and how Jungkook was still getting his MRIs done. You even held them back when the nurse directed you to a private waiting room, an empty room with a few tables and couches, snacks and a large television. A television that was displaying a news report about the accident. 

Candy and Jungkook’s photographs covered the screen, the reporter informing the audience of how their condition was unknown. When the scene changed to show the wreckage, it was the last straw. A loud sob escaped your throat as you watched a black Mercedes almost flattened from the side, glass glittering on the asphalt as the truck that had hit them looked almost unscathed in comparison.

You clutched your mouth as the television became blurry behind your tears. Next to you, you could hear Hoseok’s breath catch as he scrambled for the remote to turn off the gore. The silence was deafening, only broken by your anguished cries. 

You didn’t realize you were kneeling till Hoseok joined you on the floor, pulling your body into his in a tight embrace. The rocking of your bodies seemed almost automatic, and amidst the panic you wondered why humans rocked themselves for comfort. It was soothing, burying your face in Hoseok’s chest as you tried to convince each other that the people you had given your hearts to were going to be safe. 

It might have been minutes or hours, you didn’t know, all you knew was that your tears had run dry, their existence now painted onto Hoseok’s shirt and your puffy eyes. Walking to the table with snacks, you made two coffees, handing one to Hoseok who still had tears running down his face. He took it, making no effort to take a sip as his fingers drummed on the table.

“I think it’s my fault,” Hoseok said quietly after a moment, his face hallowed in realization as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t say that,” you chastised, holding his hand. He squeezed back, explaining that he had been calling and messaging Candy nonstop, that she probably got distracted. He seemed to be talking himself into another panic, but you held both of his hands trying to distract him from his overthinking.

“They are going to be okay, Hoseok,” you said, voice more stable and determined than you anticipated. “Repeat after me, they are going to be okay.”

You waited for him to clear his throat before he repeated your mantra, voice waterlogged. He followed your instructions a few times, before prying his hands from yours and running them through his hair in frustration.

“I love her, Y/N. I don’t know what I’m going to do… if…” He trailed off, face scrunched in an effort to control his sobs.

“They are going to be okay,” you repeated, no other words bringing you comfort in the moment. Hoseok was practically a stranger, but you wanted to help him. You let him bury his head in your neck, returning the favour, as the two of you sat at the table, waiting for some news - any news.

Much more put together than you were earlier, you comforted Hoseok with optimistic words, even though your chest was aching with uncertainty. When the door opened you both jumped, hoping for a nurse with an update, but it was only Seokjin and Yoongi, walking in with equally worried expressions. Expressions that turned cold once they landed on you.

“No. What the fuck is she doing here?” Yoongi sneered, almost stomping over to where you were sitting, eyes boring into a confused Hoseok. When Hoseok didn’t reply in the thirty seconds Yoongi had patience for, he turned to you, his gaze making you feel the smallest you had ever felt.

“Get. Out.” He gritted. You didn’t understand where this malice was coming from, all you wanted was to wait for news about Jungkook. Regardless of how intimidating Yoongi was, you were not leaving without seeing your boyfriend.

“No,” you replied, matching his icy tone. You stood up, crossing your arms in defiance as you continued to stare down the man in front of you. Although you were sure on the outside you seemed collected, calm even, inside you were terrified. You were scared for Jungkook, and you were scared of the powerful men in the room who seemed to suddenly have it out for you. 

Unlike Jungkook and his friends that celebrated birthdays on anchored yachts in the middle of the Han river, you had never even seen a yacht until that day. You didn’t grow up in fancy private schools, with luxury at your beck and call. You supported yourself through terrible part time jobs, from working in a convenience store to a disgusting factory just to scrape by until your hobby somehow paid off and you could pursue the graduate degree you wanted. You were older than everyone in your class, often looked down upon for being a ‘mature’ student, but you were proud. You were proud that your life had given you the strength to survive on your own two feet and to stand up to Yoongi at that moment. 

Walking away from the man towering over you, you sat on the other end of the room, claiming your right to be there for your boyfriend. Yoongi just laughed at that; a harsh, almost manic cackle, before leaving to call security. 

You still held your ground when two burly men arrived to escort you out, but despite your protests and pleas for at least an update on Jungkook’s condition, Yoongi won. He smirked at you as you left, while Seokjin and Hoseok stood back awkwardly, not meeting your eyes. It took everything in you not to break down, but you were not going to give them the satisfaction.

Your head hurt, heart even more so, when you finally reached the entrance of the hospital. You couldn’t believe the treatment Jungkook’s best friends had given you — a bitterness carving into your chest. Your only way of knowing if he was okay was through social media and the news.

You didn’t sleep that night, the inescapable image of the totalled Mercedes invading your thoughts, leaving your limbs heavy and your mind a wreck, till you had no choice but to return to the hospital.

----------

It was pretty fitting the way the rain fell upon the large windows, the droplets leaving trails that refracted the lights of passing cars into glimmers of rainbows before disappearing into nothing. Jungkook’s pinky twitched in his cast, and he finally understood why everyone made fun of him for his stupid theories. He rolled his eyes at his past self — he had been so naive. Soulmates weren’t real. They only appeared in myths and movies because they were fictional. 

The past eighteen hours had taught Jungkook that he was no longer that boy believing in fairytales and true love. In fact the past month had been nothing but a glaring reminder of how fictional love really was. From his parents to his closest friends, everyone was broken because they decided to chase it. Love wasn’t attainable, it was lore spun by people to fall into the comfort of another; to stave off loneliness. Love was a trap.

Well, Jungkook was no longer going to fall for it. Fuck love. All it did was put him in a state of complacency where he had not only left himself vulnerable, but his father’s legacy as well. He chuckled bitterly at the thought. He truly was a cliche of those noir films — the gullible victim of corporate espionage. 

He tapped at the glass, trying to see if it would affect the raindrops. It didn’t, much like how his anger and disdain for you did nothing to erase the way he still felt about you. He buried the feeling. It was useless to him now, after all.

The beep of Candy’s heart monitor rang through the empty ICU room and he made it his focus. When she had initially been brought back after her surgery, the room had been full of relief, but now it was eerily quiet, no one having the strength to talk anymore. It was oddly reminiscent of when his mother was laying in the same bed, and he loathed how, despite hating you, he missed how you calmed him, erasing his worst thoughts. He missed you. 

He could see the sun starting to rise over the skyscrapers that surrounded the hospital, the morning sun bleary behind the dark clouds that hid it from view, painting the landscape grey. He sniffled, twin tear tracks painting his cheeks as visions of you danced behind his eyelids. Jungkook felt weak. What did it say about him, when out of the two women he’d ever loved, one was fighting for her life after saving his, and the other had made him believe she was doing the same, only to destroy everything he believed in?

With an unnecessary excuse to the room, he left, hoping a cup of coffee would clear his thoughts. Of course his stupid card didn’t work in the vending machine. God, he felt like shit.

He adjusted his neck brace, walking towards the cafeteria, but the whiplash from the accident was nothing compared to the one he felt when he saw you in the main lobby, hands crossed in your lap as you stared seemingly at nothing. You were still wearing the same dress you wore to his birthday, and he had an instant urge to run down the two flights of stairs into your arms, to hold you tight. It was like a reflex, overwhelming but natural, and he was almost at the staircase before his mind caught up with him. He shook his head, ignoring the sudden shooting pain, and changed directions.

The sun was shining brightly through the large windows when he reached the cafeteria. The coffee was bitter, and when he contemplated texting you back, he came across the group chat where all his friends were talking of your betrayal. 

He locked his phone, and decided to wait in the cafeteria till Candy woke up.

----------

You sat in the lobby of the hospital for three days, hoping that someone would give you an update, but Jungkook was pretty much a celebrity and no one had an ounce of sympathy for you. Perhaps you were being excessive, but with all your messages and his phone always going to voicemail, you were hoping someone would let you know if he was at least alive. The news had forgotten the story in light of a celebrity dating scandal. The only reason you knew he was still there was because of the familiar faces that you would spy walking in during visiting hours and rushing to the elevator leading to the private wings.

One of those familiar faces was Jimin, the only one who noticed you sitting there. The frown on his face deepened when he reached you. Despite his cold posture, ramrod straight with a hand in his pocket, his face showed confusion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he feared people questioning him if he were any louder.

“What do you think, Jimin?” You matched his tone, standing up, wanting to be as indifferent as he was, but your resolve lasted mere seconds before you were greedy for answers. “Is he okay?”

Jimin sighed, his face softening, before he placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s fine, Y/N. Just a broken wrist and a little whiplash. He’s going to be okay.” He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

Although Jimin’s words were meant to be reassuring, they only confused you further. If Jungkook was okay, why were you left in the dark? Why hadn’t he reached out? As if on instinct, you reached for your phone, brows furrowed as you tried to see if you had somehow missed his messages. Before you could express your confusion, Jimin sensed it, demeanour changing instantly as he crossed his arms.

“He’s not going to message you,” he said plainly.

“What? But why?” you asked softly, your heart feeling as if it had lodged itself in your throat.

“You seriously think he’s going to want to be with someone who was using him?” Jimin sneered with an eye roll, and suddenly your mind cleared. You searched your name and Saga Games, devastated to find the press release. When you looked up from your phone, Jimin was walking away. 

“Wait! That’s not true!” 

You ran after him, desperately wanting to explain yourself, only to get ignored as the elevator doors closed in your face.

----------

“Next time you almost kill yourself, please don’t profess your love for me.” Jungkook said sarcastically as Candy giggled over her jello cup. Blankets were pooled around her waist, hiding the large cast on her leg from view. Her face was bright, as always, despite the large bruises on her face, and Jungkook thought she looked as beautiful as ever. He wondered why he had stopped loving her. It had been almost ten years since his little crush started, and he didn’t understand himself. How could he yell at his father for giving up on love, when he himself gave up on his first love?

“I did that to save you, you ungrateful brat,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes, and Jungkook couldn’t help but be endeared, his nose scrunching as he smiled widely. After roaming the halls of the hospital for days and sneaking glances at you, always sitting in the same spot, he had felt a heavy weight on his chest. It seemed that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t face you. He wanted to confront you, but he was a coward. Wasn’t he always?

When Candy had finally awoken, he felt lighter, the relief easing his heartbreak a little. She had spent so long away from him, even when she had returned to Seoul, that finally having her back in his life felt like a ray of sunlight breaking through the dark expanse of a forest. Perhaps that’s why her little giggles and jokes were making him confused. 

She was barely even looking at him, her attention mostly on her phone as she continued listing things that she had done for him over their decade long friendship, and Jungkook felt stupid for letting her go. Why did he have to get over her and fall for you instead? If he could fall out of love with her, he could also fall back in love, right? Sure, she may be in love with Hoseok, but he could convince her otherwise, right?

Without another thought, he leaned forward, calling her name instead of the usual ‘noona’, and when she looked up at him, annoyed at his lack of respect, he couldn’t help himself. With a deep breath in, he closed the distance, molding his lips to hers. They were soft, lingering with the vanilla of her lip balm, but all he could feel was how they weren’t yours. 

He had been dreaming of kissing Candy since he was fifteen. He expected it to feel like the movies, fireworks and pounding hearts, but all he felt was unease, a hollowness that only reminded him of how different this kiss was from the ones he had shared with you. With you he felt as if he was floating, like if he didn’t have your touch his heart would gallop out of his chest, but with Candy it felt clinical, like he was rehearsing lines for a play that would never open. 

Despite his overthinking, the kiss was short lived; a quick meeting of their lips, and when he pulled away he couldn’t help how misty his eyes got. Nothing felt right. Would it ever feel right again? Perhaps you really were his soulmate, and it would make sense if he wasn’t yours. His life had been too easy, it would make sense that he couldn’t get everything he wanted. Perhaps he was meant to live in isolation — an island inhabited. 

“Bunny… what?” Candy asked, shock written all over her face, and Jungkook felt even sadder. Had he also ruined his relationship with his best friend? Why were you doing this to him?

He apologized quickly, and when her face softened in what looked akin to pity, he couldn’t help the way his tears fell. He hadn’t cried since the night of the accident, and now he couldn’t stop. She cradled him in her arms, consoling him and it only made him sob harder. He didn’t even know why he was sad anymore. He was supposed to be mad at you, angry that you used him only to get intel on his company, but he had never felt more distraught in his entire life. 

“Why didn’t it feel good?” he asked, his voice meek, betraying his inexperience and Candy sighed, her fingers running through his hair.

“Because you don’t love me like that, bunny. Sometimes… sometimes people are better as friends, and that’s okay. We’re okay, you know that right?”

“I shouldn’t miss her right? I shouldn’t love her,” he said, looking at her with tear filled eyes, and she smiled softly.

“It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling,” she reassured softly.

“Love is fucking stupid,” he lamented, leaning his head against her shoulder.

“That it is,” she chuckled. “Stupid, but worth it.”

Although he stayed silent, the ache in his heart disagreed. Perhaps if he saw you again, perhaps if you were sitting in the lobby like you had all those days, it would clear up the agony in his veins and treat his symptoms of heartbreak without curing the cause.

With just that thought rattling through him, he left his best friend’s embrace without a word, almost sprinting towards the lobby. He had hoped you’d still be there, but seeing you sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, half asleep, made his hands clammy with nerves. 

You were dressed in an oversized hoodie, your frame almost swallowed by the black material, and with your feet folded under you, you looked almost tiny, timid unlike the animal your nickname had originated from. He had never seen you look so frail. He was the one supposed to be recovering from an accident, but all he could see was your hair carelessly tied in a bun, your eyes weighed down by dark rings around them.

He had told himself that he only had to see you once, just look at you and his anger would be back, but it was like he was on autopilot, and soon he was standing in front of you softly calling your name. 

You jumped off the chair, unable to stop yourself from engulfing him in your arms. When you looked up at him, tears were streaming down your face, and when you cupped Jungkook’s face between your hands, he felt his heartbeat stutter, his hands mirroring your actions as if all on their own.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, as if in awe.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook answered, resisting the overwhelming urge to kiss you. Why did you look so sad? Why couldn’t you be cold and heartless like he had portrayed you in his head these past few days?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, something that made Jungkook want to do it for you instead. He wanted to make sure you were okay regardless of the fact that you had broken him. Instead, he stepped away from you, the distance feeling like miles instead of inches. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Y/N,” Jungkook replied with a heavy sigh. He had to be rational about this, he couldn’t let his rose-coloured glasses warp his view of reality. Not again.

“Is this about Saga?” 

“It’s about you lying to me and using me, Y/N,” Jungkook said coldly, and you couldn’t help the way your chest ached at his words. You never meant to hide this from him, in fact, the offer had pretty much slipped your mind. However, before you could reply, Jungkook was continuing, his words flurried.

“You lied to me. You made me think what we had was special — that it was something that mattered. But it never mattered, did it?” He scoffed, chuckling bitterly, before putting his hands on your shoulder. “I don’t need you. I don’t want you. Please leave,” he sighed before starting to walk away.

“But Jungkook, if you let me explain, I can fix us,” you started, almost sprinting after him to keep up with his pace.

“There is no us,” he replied, tone harsh and final. and you couldn’t help the way it cut deep within you. “I kissed Candy, by the way,” he added nonchalantly, despite knowing he was just trying to hurt you as much as you hurt him.

“That’s okay,” you said weakly, head downturned. You didn’t care who he kissed, as long as he gave you a chance to explain. You missed the way he faltered in his steps before continuing walking, too focused on the icy goodbye he tossed your way before he disappeared up the staircase.

You knew he was hurting, that you had unintentionally broken his trust, but you needed him to understand. You needed him back, because that month with Jungkook had probably been the best month of your life. You were never one to give up, and so standing in the lobby of the hospital, you decided just that. 

You were going to win Jeon Jungkook back.

----------

Y/N: how’s my fav ta? Aaron: im great! how’s my fav ex? Y/N: oppa we dated for two months in high school. please get over me. Aaron: the utter disrespect smh. what you want? Aaron: and no im not changing your grade a 94 is good enough! Y/N: you know i deserved a 98 on that paper Aaron: yeaaaaaah right. your paper was pedantic and superfluous Y/N: jeez… i get it you’re a ta Y/N: but that’s not what i want Y/N: pair up me and jungkook for the next assignment Aaron: eww i dont wanna play matchmaker Y/N: come on pleaseeeee! Aaron: what do i get in return? Y/N: anything! Aaron: shout me out in your stream Y/N: that is the stupidest thing ive ever heard Aaron: do it Aaron: and you gotta say aaron is the best champcon player of all time Y/N: … Y/N: sure whatever ill lie for you Aaron: hell yeah Aaron: consider me bribed Aaron: and do remind jungkook this is how you bribe not with a wad of cash in a stupid handshake Y/N: i still cant believe he did that to yuna Aaron: shes straight up scarred dude lol

----------

Jungkook hated being discharged from the hospital. He had delayed his stay but after one week, he was essentially kicked out. It had been almost a month since he had been home, and although he should be happy that he was back, he despised the silence. It left him alone with his thoughts for too long. What was worse was that he could no longer disappear into work. Work used to help him drown out any silly thoughts, it was a reprieve from his overactive mind, but now working on the game reminded him of you. 

As he coded the prototype, all he could see was your handwriting; the way you curved your c’s, and the way your w’s always had a little circle between them. It was stupid, but he could spend hours looking at your cursive — it was just so you, the letters engraved into the paper from your determined strokes, yet looking soft as if you wrote them down as an afterthought.

He groaned, tipping his head back, catching the attention of Namjoon’s puppy who took it as a sign to come nuzzle his legs. He couldn’t help the little smile that came over his lips and he picked up Gureum, letting him cuddle into him. The only bright thing about the past month had been Namjoon. For so long his hyung had been in this black hole of self-destruction that when he had asked to move in with him, Jungkook couldn’t open up his home fast enough. 

When Namjoon moved in two weeks ago, it was a little heartbreaking. He could see the deep sadness rooted in the older man’s eyes and Jungkook felt helpless. He didn’t know how he could comfort his friend without breaking down himself, so the conversations remained surface-level. Jungkook tried to show him love by throwing away all alcohol in his house and making sure Namjoon ate and exercised. Once he adopted Gureum, Namjoon seemed a little lighter, but every week when he returned from therapy, he could see how burdened his soul was. 

Jungkook sometimes saw him crying when he thought he wasn’t looking, silently wiping his tears as he stared out into the city, but he didn’t know how to make it better. What did Jungkook know about the depth of love Namjoon held for Princess, when all he had done was swim in the kiddie pool, too afraid to dive in, held back by his ideals. Maybe if he had more experience, it wouldn’t have hurt as much when you betrayed him and left him reeling. Perhaps it would hurt less. Maybe he should start being more adventurous, stop guarding his virginity like some trophy to present to his future wife.

And so Jungkook decided to download Tinder, trying to wrap his mind around the concept of one night stands. Even if he was terrible, he would never have to see that person again so there shouldn’t be any harm to venturing out. He had just set up his profile and was starting to swipe, when he involuntarily started imagining you doing the same. He hated it. What would he do if he came across your profile?

The thought sent chills down his spine as he tossed the phone to the side, groaning loudly yet again, startling a sleeping Gureum. 

 “Hey JK, want some food? I ordered pizza,” Namjoon said, walking into Jungkook’s bedroom, chuckling at his younger friend sprawled on the chair. He picked up the puppy from his lap, cooing at him, before asking Jungkook to come to the living room.

The smell of pepperoni and hot cheese permeated the room, making Jungkook’s stomach grumble as he sat on the couch, ready to devour. Dinner was fairly quiet, both men talking about their days. Namjoon had seen his therapist today, and although usually he was pretty guarded about what he shared during his sessions, he was forthcoming today.

“Eunho and I are working on a strategy,” Namjoon said, a little carefully, and Jungkook sat up at attention, swallowing his last bite. He felt honoured that his hyung was sharing something so personal with him. “Recognizing my patterns, you know, doing things that are terrible for me, to help me avoid dealing with things head on.”

Jungkook nodded, even though he didn’t understand the pointed stare Namjoon was giving him. His friend just shook his head, taking another bite before speaking, “Are there things that you do that are terrible for you?”

Jungkook looked at him, big eyes blinking in response. Deciding it would be better to share than let the novel conversation die out, he contributed. “Oh yeah totally. I tend to work a lot.”

“Yeah. I’ve noticed,” Namjoon said with an amused smile. “You haven’t left your room other than for work all of last week. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh…” Jungkook said, realization dawning on him that Namjoon had just expertly got him to admit that he was avoiding something. With Namjoon’s recluse phase, Jungkook had almost forgotten how smart his friend was. Perhaps he could actually help him with his recent dilemma. 

“Well, hyung, now that you bring it up… Should I get laid?” Jungkook asked, a little hesitant and internally cringing at his own weird comment. Namjoon just chuckled, shaking his head.

“I mean… Do you want to get laid?” Namjoon asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe I can forget about Y/N if I sleep with someone else? Like, I should be free, y’know? I feel like I’m stuck and I don’t wanna love her anymore but I can’t help it!” Jungkook grew exceedingly frustrated as he spoke, Namjoon staring at him with raised eyebrows.

Namjoon sighed before speaking, “You know, Jungkook, you can sleep with everyone in the world and it wouldn’t make it hurt less. Trust me, I know.” 

He placed a hand on Jungkook’s knee, patting him slightly before standing up to clear the dishes while Jungkook contemplated his words. Namjoon was probably right. He had a few years of experience over him. But then again, shouldn’t Jungkook be free to make his own mistakes? To sleep around and find out for himself if it hurts less or not?

As Namjoon sat back down to play with the puppy, Jungkook unlocked his phone again. Swiping on Tinder seemed like a great way to forget about you all of a sudden.

----------

It turned out embarrassing yourself on stream by giving your TA a shout out wasn’t worth anything since Jungkook refused to correspond with you on anything other than emails — very well written, polite emails that were probably composed by his assistant. Jungkook was not only good at ghosting you over messages, but it seemed he had disappeared off the face of the planet. 

Citing his very publicized accident, he had taken a leave of absence from school, opting to finish the second half of his final semester from home, completing his assignments and only showing up for tests. The professors didn’t care much — he was almost at the top of your class — but you did. You hated that you were relegated from someone he wanted to see everyday to a mere email, a colleague. 

You were almost about to give up, forget all about the doe-eyed boy that brightened your life for a moment only to fade away like a momentary shooting star. You never expected to see him again, least of all here.

After over two months of dwelling over a one-day boyfriend, your friends had forced you to get out of your shell. Yugyeom’s party was supposed to be a reset, a way for you to let loose before letting go of Jungkook. A way to drink and maybe meet someone new to distract yourself. 

You had put in more effort than you usually would, breaking out your lace bustier and expensive jeans that you saved only for when you went to snobby clubs downtown. It was your get-laid outfit, highlighting your curves in a way that would make any straight man’s mouth water, and you were proud of the makeup that accompanied your all black outfit. You were feeling confident and, with the two shots you had downed in your apartment, you felt light. All of which came to a standstill the moment you walked in and saw Jungkook standing between a girl’s legs as she sat on the kitchen counter.

You hated how your heart dropped at the view. While he barely noticed you, the way his hands were gripping her hips and his lips caressed her jaw as he spoke would be forever etched in your mind. You had spent months trying to get in touch with him, crying over him, worrying over his health, but he seemed content in forgetting about you. You never thought a man would have reduced you to a shell of yourself, but Jeon Jungkook seemed to excel at everything — even breaking hearts.

Grabbing a bottle of tequila from the counter, you solidified your resolve to forget about the heartbreaker in the leather jacket, and focused on finding someone you could take home. If idealistic virgin Jungkook had no problem moving on from your short-lived romance, then why should you pay him any more mind? 

Fuck Jungkook, you thought as your eyes met those of the cute host from across the room. You were going to have fun. 

You took a big, burning sip straight from the bottle before making your way over to Yugyeom, missing the way Jungkook stared at your retreating figure.

----------

Jungkook really wanted to pay attention to his date. He really wanted to be the person Jimin had coached him to be while chatting to Jisoo over Tinder. It was going well so far. He was the epitome of the suave playboy that all the tabloids painted him as. He was calm and collected, not even batting an eyelash at how forward Jisoo got after the two of them had shared a few things. She was pulling at his shirt, kissing his neck, and Jungkook wasn’t scared of letting her down because he truly didn’t care if she thought he was good in bed or not. Why should he when he was never going to see her again?

But then he turned around.

And there you were giggling at some joke a guy was making, your arms around his neck as you sat in his lap. All he could do was watch the way his hands massaged your thigh and how you bit your lip in response, eyes half lidded. It was like watching a gruesome car crash, his stomach turning but his body frozen as you leaned into the dark haired man, pulling his lips to yours.

It was as if his legs moved on their own, marching him to where you sat. He didn’t know what came over him, he wasn’t usually one for confrontation, but suddenly he was pulling you up dragging you across the house, trying doors till he found one that was open. He hated that he was being this way, still pining for you when your actions had made it clear that he wasn’t anyone to you, but he blamed the tequila in his veins. Why else would his heart be leaping out of his chest at you scowling at him?

“What the fuck, Jeon?” you yelled, pulling your arm from his grip as he closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” he retorted, his voice thankfully not betraying how he was quaking inside.

“Why do you care?” you asked, and he could see how your fists were balled, your arms shaking slightly. He couldn’t help stepping closer to you, a hand gently placed on your elbow in an attempt to stop the quiver.

“Because,” he answered, a little petulant but he was stubborn and he didn’t even know why he had done what he did. Because I still love you like an idiot, a voice said at the back of his head, but he ignored it, opting to finish his sentence there. He had told you himself that he never wanted to see you again, but still he dragged you here. He hated himself, but looking at your fiery gaze and alcohol-reddened cheeks, he realized he could never hate you. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Because what?” you screamed in frustration, your hands pulling at your hair. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because,” he said, moving closer to you, his heart leaping at how you didn’t step back. He could see the tears lining your eyes, just on the edge of falling and with the music muffled through the door, he moved even closer. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was that for the first time in months he’d felt a semblance of an emotion, but his hands were cupping your face as he stared in your eyes. Your hands grasped his wrists, searing the skin, and he couldn’t hide the truth anymore.

“Because I don’t want to keep kissing people and pretending they’re you anymore,” he whispered, his lips meeting yours. 

You and him had shared kisses that felt like fireworks, explosions of wonders, but kissing you now was calming, almost serene; like he was finally home. Your lips slotted perfectly against his and it made him lose his breath. Behind the taste of liquor you’d been drinking was the familiar taste of your cherry lip tint, and the even more familiar taste of just simply you. He could never forget the perfect medley that was embedded in his head, the one he had been searching fruitlessly for a month with nameless Tinder dates. 

When you put your arms around him, he pulled you closer and it was as if nothing had changed. As if the two of you were still in his apartment kissing without reservations and it was always August 31st. But it wasn’t and as he refamiliarized himself with your mouth, his father’s voice from this morning rang inside his head, sobering him.

“Son, is this true?” 

Jungkook could see that one vein popping in his father’s forehead, the one he remembered from whenever he got a bad grade in high school or stayed out too late. He hadn’t seen it in a while but it took him back, his eyes widening in fear of a scolding.

“Is Y/N really the enemy? I thought she was on our side? What’s this about Saga?”

The enemy. He hadn’t thought of you like that but his father’s venom-filled words made sense. How else would he describe someone who strung him along, fed him lies, made him fall in love to take it all away for something as megre as monetary gain? 

It was when his father decided to scrap the game you helped him build, the one that he had been meticulously coding for months that he realized how much you took from him. His father benched him from his plans of a takeover till further notice, and Jungkook was left with nothing, no work to distract him any more. Just bitter pain.

“I can’t do this,” he breathed, pulling back, hating how his tongue came out to taste you on his lips one last time. “I can’t… I can’t be with the enemy.”

It was stupid, it was impulsive, but when the dazed look in your eyes turned into rage, Jungkook couldn’t stay in the room anymore. Turning around, he walked away. Out of the bedroom, out of the house, aimlessly roaming the street, trying to stop the way his lip wobbled.

It was what he was supposed to do, but he couldn’t help missing you all the same.

----------

The steam from the two cups of coffee flitted in the air, the smell invigorating after a sleepless night. The bleached white of the cups, tainted by a drop of the spilled beverage, matched the small table with its checkered red pattern. It was quiet except for the chatter of a few customers who rushed to grab their orders before leaving. The small cafe was almost empty because who else would be sitting and enjoying breakfast at 8am on a Tuesday?

Jungkook almost regretted agreeing to come meet you, but after how he had acted at the party, his guilt wouldn’t let him rest, forcing him to read and reread the text you had sent him. It was a little scary how he knew how you took your coffee in the morning, but hadn’t known that you were going to stab him in the back. He bit back the bitterness, however.

Hi. I would like to meet up face to face to finish off our project. You can send your assistant if you want, but after how you treated me on Saturday, I think I deserve a meeting, don’t you think so?

He read over your message again as he waited. He had contemplated sending Seungwon in his stead, but something about your tone made him rethink it. He didn’t appreciate being called out, although he was fully aware what an ass he had been, alcohol or not. The utter embarrassment he faced when he walked into his apartment to see Namjoon staring at him was enough for him to agree. He hadn’t disclosed to his friend why he was so torn up, but Namjoon was smart and didn’t need a memo to catch on. Jungkook shuddered imagining the scolding he would receive if the older man was made privy to the real reason he was so shaken up.

He took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the way the warm liquid soothed him, and then his pinkie twitched. He glared at the digit, his romanticized thoughts bothering him once again, but his reprieve was cut short by a gust of wind that cut his cheeks as the door opened. 

He couldn’t help but be a little endeared at your appearance, your figure swallowed under a large puffy coat, the fur trimmed hood atop your head and face almost hidden under the woolen scarf around your neck. He couldn’t help remembering how cold your hands always were. He wondered if your feet got cold too — if you would warm them up against his in bed. Not that he would allow himself to ever know for sure. 

Schooling his forlorn expression into a smile, he stood up, pulling the chair out for you, only to be stopped by you raising your hand towards him. 

“Don’t bother, this won’t take long,” you said, your tone colder than the snowy weather outside as you took off the hood to reveal your face, nose a bright red from the cold. Before he could say anything you were slamming a large stack of dog eared papers on the table. You handed him a few sheets of paper, the assignment topic written at the top in bolded letters. Corporate Espionage: The Grey Morality in a Digital World.

Ironic how the two of you were assigned the reason for your decoupling, as if fate was mocking you for your choices, mocking Jungkook. 

“I finished it. Feel free to edit it as you like when you submit it. I trust your judgement.”

I trust your judgement. Did you even realize how fucking stupid Jungkook felt hearing that? Maybe he should return the favour. Listen to Namjoon’s sage words and let you explain your side of the story. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as Jungkook thought.

“Listen Y/N, can you sit down? We can talk?”

“No,” you replied harshly, pushing another, heavier stack of papers towards him. He didn’t have time to look at much other than the heading. Transfer of IP Rights. “I had my lawyer draw these up. You don’t need to worry about me being the enemy anymore, Jeon. There it is. Signed and notarized. You can have all the stupid rights for your stupid game. I’m done.”

And with that bombshell, you turned away, walking back into the cold morning, and leaving Jungkook scrambling for his thoughts. As he sat down, defeated, he read the document. You had given him the copyright to everything, from your research to the random character sketches you doodled in the margins. Even mechanics that didn’t end up in the game. Everything. 

Jungkook’s chest felt heavy, his thoughts swirling like the bile in his stomach. Someone who was using him wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t give up their claim on their idea. He stared at the mug in front of him, one with the caramel macchiato you enjoyed now cold to the touch, and realized that his ego had taken away his chance at happiness.

The cafe filled with people as he sat frozen. People laughed around him, giggling at jokes as they sipped their coffees, carefree, going in and out, but all Jungkook felt was the chills from the cold air everytime the door opened.

----------

Driving always calmed you down. The feel of the steering wheel vibrating slightly under your grip as the world passed you by made you feel invincible. As if all the troubles in the world couldn’t touch you, fading away like scenery in the periphery. But no matter how many miles you drove on the snowy highway, leaving the cafe you walked out of just now miles behind, it didn’t settle the disquiet brewing in your head. 

You had imagined the scenario of giving Jungkook those papers multiple times in the weeks they were being drafted. At first it was visions of a teary reunion and forgiven miscommunications; however, after Saturday night, those happy moments morphed into seeing Jungkook eat his words. You imagined him just as he was at the cafe — speechless and shocked, but seeing it in real life didn’t give you the satisfaction you desired. 

His face was embedded in your head as you drove the sleek empty roads. His eyes wide and lips pulled in a frown that betrayed his hurt manifested on your pupils, but it didn’t make you feel smug like you thought you would be. It hurt you to hurt him, to throw his words back at you. No matter how many times he had abandoned you, leaving him behind felt like you were stabbing your own heart and tossing it on the ground. 

It was painful. It was unsatisfying. And it was what made you immediately block him on all platforms lest your heart decide to take another hit of the cocky man who stuttered nervously when he told you he was a virgin. 

You didn’t need him. You had to do this for your own protection. If he wanted to talk to you, he had your email. It didn’t seem like he was interested in contacting you any other way anyways.

----------

Over the last few weeks, Jungkook had poured over the detailed documents you had provided him countless times, reading them before bed like some sort of masochistic bedtime story. His father had approved the game after seeing it, handing over Jungkook’s rough prototype to the developers after a quick short meeting. He had praised him for managing to acquire such a comprehensive transfer of ownership for free, and proudly used it as an example of his leadership, and Jungkook accepted it. He accepted it because he was a coward, too scared to admit that the price was losing you.

When he showed Namjoon what you had done, he was scolded. Namjoon rarely ever got angry with him but to see his jaw ticking as he berated Jungkook’s choices would be forever imprinted in him. 

“You have to apologize, Jungkook,” Namjoon advised sternly after skimming the elaborate set of papers. The way his eyebrows knitted made Jungkook uneasy, on edge as if he was witnessing a ticking bomb. The guilt that had started swirling in his gut was flamed by the older man’s response. He had expected Namjoon to offer his life philosophies to him, maybe some insightful words, but this blunt demand didn’t help the way Jungkook’s heart kept splintering everytime he remembered your words.

I’m done.

“She said she was done hyung… It doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t—” Jungkook’s defeated tone didn’t help quell Namjoon’s exasperation, instead making him interrupt his excuses with a flurried tongue, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Of course it fucking matters! The game’s going to be worth what? Millions? So why would she give up her share? Who the fuck would give up millions just to clear a misunderstanding?”

“I don’t know…” He did know. He knew no one would do that. He knew that the only reason you had done so was because your hate for him surpassed anything you could tangibly gain. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him that maybe the reason you had signed everything over wasn’t because you hated him. Maybe it was for the opposite reason, but then your voice would smother that thought.

I’m done.

“Yes, you do. You can’t keep running away when things get hard. You say you love her? You want to be at her side? Then you need to earn it, put your pride aside and actually listen to her.”

It seemed that those were the last words Namjoon would impart on him as he left the room. He didn’t even leave him Gureum for comfort and Jungkook couldn’t help wondering if perhaps that signified how upset he was with his decisions. But sitting in his living room, courage had never felt as elusive.

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to comprehend the dry notes on the strategy some overpriced consultant had presented him in order to help Jaunty Games “cut the fat”, but no matter how hard he tried, the words blurred together and swirled, indecipherable. He groaned loudly as he tried to wrestle his focus away from you and back on to the page in front of him. It didn’t matter much since the only one to hear him would be himself as they echoed back through his empty office.

Defeated, he stood up, walking to the window and peering into the bustling streets. He watched the people below scatter to and from Samseong Station like little ants racing to their nests, feeling a little claustrophobic suddenly despite his extremely large, minimally decorated office. He unbuttoned his collar, the familiar rush of adrenaline shortening his breaths before he followed his usual routine. Staring at his hands, he counted his breaths, willing them to slow down and deepen. He flexed his hands to stop the shaking, his tattoos acting as an anchor as he felt himself start to calm down. 

Walking to his desk, he sat down, finally catching his bearings a little, and just in time too.

“Mr Jeon, I have the reports from the analysis department you asked for,” Seungwon announced as he breezed into the space after two quick knocks. Jungkook only hummed in response, not trusting his voice to not waver after such a close call with his demons. But Seungwon had practically raised Jungkook, and for him it was easy to recognize the signs - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the empty gaze, the overly controlled breathing, and the hands, clenching and unclenching.

He made his way around the desk, squatting in front of the younger man despite the way he averted his gaze, his cheeks flushed. He reached for the Newton’s Cradle on his desk, pulling the first metal sphere and watching carefully as Jungkook started concentrating on the movement and the sound emanating from the toy. 

Jungkook felt a wave of calm rush over him as he timed his breaths to the sounds, finally feeling fully in control of himself, even though he hated his helper.

“Jungkook, you’re okay,” Seungwon assured, repeating the phrase again and again, peppering it with praises for doing well. Jungkook couldn’t help softening at the attention from the former fatherly figure.

“I’m fine now. Thank you unc- Mr. Cha,” Jungkook quickly corrected himself. Although he had patched things up with his mother after the big reveal months ago, he still held a grudge against her boyfriend, his betrayal much larger in his mind. But he saw Seungwon’s face fall at the cold formal tone he had adopted as he started to walk away, and Jungkook realized that perhaps that was his biggest fault — shutting people out. Unlike Namjoon who did the same, Jungkook didn’t physically run away. He did it by building an impenetrable wall around himself. A wall embedded with sharp icicles and jagged razors, refusing to let anyone but a selected few cross, and easily tossing away those who wronged him. 

So for the first time he decided to change his patterns, not by letting the wall fall, but by opening a door. It was about time he heard Seungwon’s side of the story.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, a little too blunt, his thoughts still taking a moment to restart. Seungwon smiled warmly at him, making his way back towards the desk, taking a seat opposite the CEO in training.

“It wasn’t malicious, Jungkook. You know that right?” he explained, the wrinkles next to his eyes becoming prominent as he looked at him softly. Seungwon didn’t know where to begin but he didn’t want to lose the opportunity he was provided. “My whole life I thought I would end up alone. I was ready for it… to love from afar… to catch glimpses of moments that would never be mine. I never thought your mother would ever return the flame I held for her.”

“I had given up but fate had other plans. Sometimes love fades, and sometimes it perseveres. I have loved Kyungsoo for thirty years, but somehow after all that time she found her way to me,” he said, his voice softly carrying through the quiet of the room. His eyes met Jungkook’s widened ones before he continued. “We never planned it, you know? It just happened. And I’m so sorry I hurt you… I’m sorry, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook may be someone who held grudges, but he couldn’t help empathizing with the man. He could choose to paint him as a villain, waiting and watching for cracks in his parent’s relationship for thirty years, but despite all his efforts over the past few months, he was still a hopeless romantic at heart. He thought about you and wondered if he could do the same, agonizingly watch you from afar for decades. It must have felt like torture, each smile and exchange like little droplets landing on same spot on his forehead, an innocuous but unrelenting pain with no end in sight. 

His eyes watered without his consent, and before he knew it he was standing up and making his way to Seungwon, hugging him, the walls once again toppling to welcome him inside. He missed the way Seungwon teared up as well, grinning as he returned his embrace. Jungkook didn’t have many qualms about cancelling the rest of his afternoon to repair his relationship with Seungwon as he shared his love story, decades in the making.

It’s odd when we learn that our parents and parent figures are flawed, perhaps even more so than ourselves. It is a cognitive dissonance that shatters the reality we had relied on to be true. We idolize our caregivers, often putting them on a pedestal, never really seeing them as humans capable of making human mistakes. 

When Jungkook listened to the stories Seungwon shared, it was like watching his memories from a perspective he didn’t fathom before, going from first person to third. He remembered the times Seungwon would take care of him as a kid. He never felt like his father was absent from his life because he always had his beloved uncle Seungwon to battle him in Mario Kart and attend his baseball games, but as an adult he finally removed the rose-coloured lenses and realized that he wasn’t just absent from his life, he was absent from his mother’s too. A new, exponentially growing company demands all the attention of its leader, and he imagined how his mother felt being left alone all those years.

To Jungkook, Kyungsoo was warm, nurturing, and encouraging, but in Seungwon’s eyes she was resilient, strong, and brave — brave enough to step away from the seesaw of a relationship where the highs never felt enough and where the momentum needed to escape the lows required an immeasurable amount of effort. Jungkook liked that description of his mother. Liked hearing about how smart she was, and how capable of greatness she was from the man in love with her — the man who did nothing but appreciate her from afar. 

It led to a smile on his face. He had been bitter for so long that the purity of their connection warmed his heart, shedding light on the seed of hope planted there. Jungkook had thought he was naive for believing that love was everlasting, but hearing Seungwon’s words he thought his present self was even more naive. How could love be a lie when it was the only thing worth fighting for? Only thing worth watching for decades?

After three cups of coffee, Jungkook left the office with a strategy much better than any he had read all day — a strategy to ask for your forgiveness, even if he didn’t deserve it. Seungwon had somehow nonchalantly shared the most important piece of advice he had ever heard. Advice that chased away his cowardice and left only hope.

People make mistakes. People are flawed, but people are real. Whatever idea of you he had developed through his overthinking wasn’t worth not trying to fight for you. He could spend thirty years watching your life, or he could take his chances.

He grinned as his pinky twitched against the steering wheel.

—————

You steeled yourself with a deep breath, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You could feel the nerves shaking your legs, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were sitting, your knees would’ve surely buckled. Plastering a smile on your face, you squinted in the bright lights illuminating you, the din of the room becoming an afterthought. 

“So, Y/N, we know you started off as a streamer for ChampCon, how did you end up where you are now? Head of Strategy at Saga. That’s big! Did you always want to be creating games?”

You chuckled into the mic the way your public speaking classes had taught you to gauge the volume of the microphone. You were happy for the lights because they hid the audience. Speaking to a thousand people was daunting, but the setup of the panel had the feel of being in someone’s living room. The little plant on the round table was calming, even distracting the fact that it was actually a camera that was projecting the view on the large screen behind you.

“Thanks, Brianna. Honestly, this might sound a bit odd but I think I just stumbled onto this field. I started Twitch to learn how to play ChampCon. Before that I was very much a console only person,” you chuckled as the crowd laughed and jokingly booed. You waved your hands, trying to seem confident despite your nerves. “I know. I know! You’ve converted me! But yeah, once I started playing I kind of fell in love with the game and I just got obsessed with knowing all the mechanics, the artwork, how everything worked. For the first time, I was passionate about an industry. After years of searching, I think game development just found me. Like fate.”

You smiled amicably at the invisible crowd as the host asked other women on the panel about their journey. It felt odd sitting at a table of women who had launched their own games independently, or had competed in worldwide championships. By comparison, you had only created a Youtube channel where you sat in your room commenting on games someone else created. You hadn’t even started working at Saga yet!

However, you bit back your imposter syndrome, reminding yourself that you deserved to be there — that you were handpicked to share your views on gaming culture. The hour passed by in a blur and when the crowd applauded you could finally breathe. Your group was led off stage to a holding area, essentially a comfortable room in the back where lunch was served and the conference main stage played on a giant television.

If someone had told you even two months ago that you would be in Los Angeles at E3, one of the world’s largest gaming conventions, in a room full of amazing women from Jade Raymond to Geguri, you would’ve laughed in their face and asked them to take their medication. But here you were, not as a spectator or a mere attendee, but a speaker, starstruck by people knowing your name and your job. It felt as if you’d been thrust into a daydream, waiting to wake up any moment.

Settling onto one of the tables with some of the other speakers, you dug into the meal, conversation flowing seamlessly. Until your attention was diverted to the television when you heard your name. The whole table followed you, turning to pay attention to the screen, where no one other than Jeon Jungkook was speaking on stage.

Dressed in casual ripped jeans and a t-shirt with his company’s logo, he seemed to effortlessly command the large stage. He held the microphone easily as he gestured to the large screens behind him that were now displaying the game the two of you had worked to develop.

“Guys let me tell you, Y/N Y/L/N might seem like a casual streamer, but she is an absolute genius among us mere folks!” The crowd laughed roaringly at his joke and your face heated up. What was he doing? Why was he up there giving you credit? You gave him all the rights!

While Jungkook continued joking on stage, showing off the mobile game, and assuring people that it would be launched at the end of the year, you were barely paying attention. All you could see was the logos at the bottom of the name of the game. Rise of the Guardian, a JauntyxSaga collaboration.

You hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in three months, and it seemed that in that short amount of time Jungkook had not only managed to get the game developed, marketed and announced, but had also somehow managed to have his biggest rival come on board as a collaborator. It made you a little dizzy to think about how he had managed to take what was essentially doodles and scribbles and turned them into a real life video game. And although you heard him clearly give you much more credit than you deserved, you kind of wished you had been a part of the process. Another smaller voice in your head reminded you that you wished you had been with him during the process.

Before you could dwell too much, your eyes fell on Jungkook, in the flesh, as he was ushered in after his presentation.

You’ve always hated the dramatics in the movies where the music would muffle and lights would dim to show the lead staring at their love interest, but in that moment it was exactly like that. As if time had decided to stand still so the two of you could have a moment to yourselves. So your eyes could roam his features and get reacquainted with the sharpness of his jaw, the softness of his big eyes, the little mole under his lip. 

He smiled at you, a little bashful, as he scratched the side of his cheek, picking at an invisible hair. When you didn’t make a move, he made himself a plate from the buffet before hesitating a little, eyeing the open chair next to you. 

The past three months were hard. It was stupid how much you missed him even though you had been apart longer than you had been together. You had blocked him on everything and that helped keep your sanity a little. Being away from him, you had forgotten the hold his cute buck toothed smile had on you and before long you were forgoing all the promises you made to yourself and motioning to the chair next to him. 

He eagerly jumped at the opportunity, making himself comfortable, his eyes crinkled in glee. 

“Hi,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours, taking your breath away a little. 

“Hi,” you replied with a smile.

The two of you didn’t exchange any other words, only stealing glances as you ate.

—————

There was a little speck on the pristine hotel elevator doors that was bothering Jungkook. He could see his entire reflection, from the too big trunks he had stolen from Namjoon to the towel he had draped over his shoulder, but right on his forehead there was a smudge. It seemed like a watermark, and it was a little jarring to look at so he decided to fiddle with his phone instead, checking the chaos that had ensued on Twitter after his announcement that afternoon.

There were at least three hashtags relating to the announcement trending, but only one caught his eye - JungkookxTiger??? - where users were speculating and quoting Jungkook’s earlier gushing over his ex. Perhaps he had been a little heavy handed with his grand gesture… perhaps that was why you didn’t really make an effort to talk to him at lunch. 

Jungkook shook his head as the elevator doors opened to the pool, trying to shake out the negative thoughts, reminding himself that reconciliation wasn’t his aim, just an apology. He wanted to redeem himself in your eyes, and three months of self-reflection and three appointments with Namjoon’s therapist had taught him to be open to the possibility of you never giving him another chance. He was okay with that, even if he knew he would always regret losing you. But if that’s what made you happy, he would gladly take the heartbreak.

He was lost in his thoughts when he reached the pool, dropping his towel on a chaise lounge, but all those thoughts froze when he reached the whirlpools at the end of the pool. He wanted to strip away the exhaustion of the day by relaxing in the steaming water. It seemed that you had the same idea.

“Umm… hi,” Jungkook floundered, not knowing if the awkwardness was in his head or not, but feeling an intense need to rectify it. “Sorry! I’m not following you I swear! I can leave if you want,” he added, kicking himself internally for being so nervous. The fact that you were sitting in the hot tub in a red bikini with your skin flushed from the heat didn’t help his nerves at all.

“It’s a public space, Jeon,” you waved, smiling a little as you leaned back and closed your eyes. Your smile did nothing to quell his racing pulse as he tentatively got in the pool and settled across from you.

“So JauntyxSaga, huh?” you commented casually, Jungkook’s gaze snapping from where it was fixated on his hands to your face. Your expression was neutral and it made him uneasy, wanting so badly to rewind time back to when the two of you easily laughed together.

“Um.. yeah. Is that okay?”

“You don’t need to ask me, Jeon. It’s your company,” you shrugged, and your nonchalance made him want to explain himself. He felt as if the window of opportunity to get into your good graces was quickly closing.

“Yeah. But are you okay with me saying it was your idea… I wanted to reach out to you, but I also kind of wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Consider me surprised,” you chuckled and he didn’t know if he should be relieved or worried, worrying his lip with his teeth.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked right? I just wanted to give you credit…”

“Why? Ideas don’t matter… execution does. I just came up with the concept, you made it happen.”

“Because you matter,” he muttered, apologizing when you responded with a sigh of his name. He didn’t know what to say, so he just sat there, stewing in his regrets.

“I’m going to go,” you said, and he watched you get out and wrap a towel around you, months of pep talks going down the drain as his throat closed around any words his brain could muster. However, it seemed that he didn’t need the courage, because before you left you turned around.

“Wanna get some coffee when we’re back in Seoul?”

“Yes,” Jungkook’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I’d like that… a lot.”

“Cool. I’ll text you sometime.”

You waved, turning away from him, and he couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.

----------

You didn’t know why you had asked Jungkook for coffee that night and why five days later you were fidgeting with the mug of black coffee in front of you in a small cafe near campus. Call it an impulse or longing, but as you waited for Jungkook to arrive, the nerves you felt in the pool were back, swirling in your belly and erupting into butterflies when you saw him walk through the door.

It wasn’t a reunion that songs would be written about — it was stilted, painfully awkward. But it was real. After chasing him down all that time, it was bizarre that after what seemed like a lifetime of radio silence, he was there. Right in front of you, sitting in a distractingly well-fitted suit.

Two people could have a lot in common, but when so much miscommunication had overshadowed those similarities, was it even possible to partake in a normal conversation? While you sipped your coffee, you wished you could erase the past, go back to when it was easy, when all he had to do was give you one of his brilliant smiles and you would return it with a kiss. 

“How’s work?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat before beginning, as if the question he had asked required much deliberation, and you wished he would just get to the point. That you could skip all the small talk, and move on to the apologies. A voice in your head reminded you of the way you felt when you sat on those plastic chairs in the hospital, the way it seemed your heart was being slowly carved out of your chest while he chose to ghost you. And just like that, you didn’t want to be there anymore despite it being your own idea.

“Haven’t started yet. I start after graduation next month,” you replied, the chill in your voice complementing your stormy thoughts.

“Oh, that makes sense.” He fidgeted with the mug. He moved it from one hand to the other, the liquid splashing but not yet spilling. It made you anxious. He bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed, eyes on the table, when he asked you the next question. “You excited to be done with school?”

“Sure. You?” Why was this so hard? Why was just conversing like humans so taxing? Perhaps it was inevitable. Maybe you had fallen into this weird whirlwind of a short-lived romance, one that wasn’t meant to last. Maybe it was for the best that things had fallen apart before they got too serious. But if they weren’t serious, why were you still agonizing over it months later? Why was it taking you longer to forget him than it took you to get over relationships that lasted years?

“Umm… yes. Yeah! Finally in the real world you know… Real people, real problems,” Jungkook said, his volume almost a little too low to be heard over the din of the cafe.

 He kept moving his mug. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. From the tattooed hand that would hold yours to the bare one that would caress your jaw when he kissed you. You couldn’t concentrate on whatever canned question he asked you, couldn’t even hear it, your eyes following the brilliant white dishware, like you were watching a tennis match. Till you couldn’t help yourself, your hand reaching out and stopping the mug, spilling the coffee. 

You didn’t even feel the few drops that landed on your fingers, still around the mug, but Jungkook was in a sudden frenzy, grabbing napkins and stopping the liquid from reaching the edge of the table. He tended to you next, taking your hand before you could pull it back and wiping it clean, examining it intensely for any injuries. 

You wanted to tell yourself it was uncomfortable — that him holding your hand once again made you want anything other than wanting to grasp it tighter. But you were never too good at lying to yourself, so you let him linger longer than your rationality would have allowed you. Let him gaze at you pleadingly, wordlessly asking for the same thing you wanted. Don’t let go, please.

“I miss you,” he murmured, a little anguished, his hand shaking in yours, his eyes on your fingers as they twitched subconsciously.

“I miss you, too,” you dared to reply despite the walls around your heart. His gaze snapped to yours at your words and you could read the battle within them. “But I don’t know if we can ever go back.”

“I… I don’t want to go back,” Jungkook said, suddenly determined, his hand confidently grasping yours tighter. “I want to be better. Make us better. Please?”

“Jungkook… I don’t know.”

“We can be friends again? That can work right?” His tone didn’t seem like he was begging, but you knew he was, his body stiff in anticipation. Could you survive giving him another chance?

“We were never really friends,” you remarked, a small smile stretching your lips, as you thought about the stupid arguments the two of you would have in class, almost a lifetime ago. “Frenemies at best.”

He smiled at that, relaxing a little at your joke, squeezing your fingers in his palm before letting go. 

The conversation after was still a little awkward, but you didn’t overthink it, refusing to settle the blush that decorated your cheekbones every time his knee brushed against yours. And when he asked you if you would like to grab dinner together, you agreed. Maybe you could’ve been better to him too. Maybe the two of you could be better to each other. 

After all, you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

----------

Jungkook kept glancing at you, despite telling himself to keep his eyes on the road. He couldn’t help it, not when the sun fading over the horizon bathed you in a glow that he wished he could memorize. Not when you softly sang to the radio, nodding your head to the mellow beat and smiling at the cheesy lyrics proclaiming love everlasting. Not when all he wanted to do was hold your hand again.

He hadn’t even dared to touch you after the day you got coffee, but after three decidedly less uncomfortable hangouts, he had finally asked you on a date. A date you had agreed to, despite all his demons reminding him that he was too unworthy to even ask.

The first hangout was dinner at a small diner where you told him about your parents and your childhood. He didn’t know much about your life. Somehow in the month the two of you had been together, it had been glazed over. But he was happy to hear about it, ecstatic to learn what shaped you. He always knew you were determined, headstrong, but hearing about how you were bullied as a child over thrifted clothes till you decided to take up Taekwondo to fight back, made him gain more insight into you. You were always a fighter, fighting for yourself, your beliefs, even him when he treated you worse than all those bullies.

On your second hangout, he told you about Candy — an unrequited love that he realized was never a love at all, not the way it should be. You cut him off when he started to apologize about kissing her, telling him that it was okay. He bit away his guilt, letting you distract him with a game of Mario Kart. He would try to apologize again today. He would try to apologize for everything today.

For your last hangout, the two of you went to an amusement park, and between the laughs and cotton candy he felt a lump in his throat. Your hair flew in the wind when you drove the bumper car towards him, glee lighting up your face, your giggles loud and carefree as your car collided with his. If he was a cartoon his eyes would have turned into hearts at that moment. He thought he loved you, but it seemed that every little moment he spent with you increased his feelings tenfold, like before he was only exploring the surface of Marianas Trench. He couldn’t wait to dive deeper, turn his lungs to dust if needed. It was the courage he needed to ask you on date.

“Our first date’s on a boat?” you asked, mirth lacing your skepticism, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled into the marina.

“I thought it’d be nice to talk somewhere new,” he replied, his voice not betraying the sudden anxiety that invaded his thoughts. Perhaps taking you on a boat to make amends was too on the nose. “I got you those sandwiches you like from Hongdae.”

The times Jungkook and you had met before this date were amazing, but they were still tinged with guilt. Fear that the delicate thread that held your moments together would perish at the lightest mention of the past was ingrained in you. You didn’t want to think about the Jungkook who you hurt and who hurt you, you just wanted to exist in this precarious bubble of friends that ignored the tension in the room for longer. Because even if it was uncomfortable at times, at least it was there. You didn’t know if you were brave enough to test whether it would pop once the two of you really talked. You weren’t brave enough to reflect on how you’d react if your days went back to being void of his presence.

But when Jungkook smiled, his upper lip disappearing to bare his teeth and his eyes squinting from how high his cheeks got, you found the courage to smile back, to step out of the car and onto a sailboat, sappily named SS True Love.

The boat seemed much lower than what Jungkook’s social status would predict, a simple navy blue hull with white trimmings. The hardwood deck only had room enough for a blanket at the bow, the rest taken up by the cockpit. As Jungkook set up the sails, you set up the late afternoon lunch, the wind caressing you once you had settled to watch Jungkook move around with ease.

It seemed that Thursday afternoon wasn’t a popular time for a boat ride, your boat the only one rippling the calm river. The Seoul skyline never looked better than it did from the deck of Jungkook’s sailboat, the scent of freshwater making the crowded city look almost serene. As the sun dipped closer to the horizon behind you, the city was already coming alive, the mismash of lights visible even if it wasn’t dark yet. It looked almost fragile, a line of silver icicles reaching to the skies and vibrating with fireflies, capturing the remaining rays of the sun.

Jungkook anchored in the middle of the river and settled next to you after turning on some music. The melodies carried on the wind, embellishing the silence between the two of you as you ate, soaking in the remaining sun as it set. That’s when you noticed the lines of fairy lights on the railing, their fluorescent glow warming you, melting the lead from your tongue.

“Do you want some more wine?” Jungkook asked, holding the bottle of red he had procured to go with the prosciutto sandwiches you adored, ones that were out of the way for him but he had bought anyways. Just because you mentioned once you liked them. Watching him pour the wine carefully in his glass, his hair falling into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter. You didn’t want to let him go. You wanted to hold on to him, to hold him so tight your muscles would quiver with fatigue.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Saga,” you blurted out, cursing yourself for your lack of finesse. Jungkook froze, his eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs as he stared at you open-mouthed. However, now that you had started, the word vomit continued, your hands flailing in front of you. 

“To be honest, I got interviewed before we even started talking and when it became official I was under an NDA and so I couldn’t tell you and to be honest I totally completely forgot about it. Wait, that sounds like an excuse! I didn’t forget forget, I just didn’t pay attention to it because I was scared about a big change and so my brain decided to not think about it and-”

“You didn’t have to tell me anything. I should’ve trusted you,” he interrupted, his fingers pulling at the thread poking from the rip on his jeans. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, barrelling at a speed unfathomable as he recalled how he made every wrong decision, from leaving you on his birthday to ghosting you to being a drunken asshole. But most of all he recalled the broken way you looked at him at the hospital when he spat venom into your wounds. He would’ve never talked to himself after that but you did, because much like your username, you were a tiger, fighting for what’s yours. He belonged to you after all, had since the first time you crashed into him, seamlessly falling into his arms as if he was made to catch you. 

His regret lined his eyes, cascading slowly to his jaw in a single stream that clogged his sinuses and cracked his voice as he spoke. “I should’ve trusted you. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

Like all the times you had mirrored his smiles, you mirrored his tears too. 

“I think I ruined us,” you sniffled, fingers wiping at his cheekbones, and the sparks your touch left powered his arms to cling around you and pull you to his chest. You could hear the hammering of his heart, your mind reintroduced to the scent you had almost forgotten, despite craving.

“No, I did,” he replied, adamant even through his whispers. “I was so mean to you. I’m so sorry, Tiger. I don’t deserve you.”

“You were a little mean,” you joked, pulling away from where you were buried in his chest and cupping his face in your hands, smiling at his bashful, melancholic whine. “But it’s okay. No one deserves anyone, we choose.”

“You shouldn’t choose me,” Jungkook lamented, his glassy eyes reflecting the light around you, even larger than usual as they stared into yours. His hands on your waist gripped you tighter, regardless. “No matter how much I want you to,” he added in a whisper, barely audible over the sounds of the water.

“But that’s why I do,” you replied simply, wiping his tears once again, only for more to appear as he hid from you, his face finding its home in the crook of your neck. You held him tight and Jungkook wished he never had to leave your embrace, to never know a world where your warmth didn’t surround him. He knew he was going to wear his heart on his sleeve this evening, but he never imagined that you would accept it, keep it safe next to yours and drown his senses with your comfort. 

He didn’t dare move from your arms as you stroked his hair and the two of you talked about your times apart. Till the pain you had caused each other didn’t feel as fresh anymore, till it faded into a throb that reminded you of your mistakes but didn’t hinder you. There was a certain poetry to being in your arms, and Jungkook wished he could immortalize it. It was the moment where his soul finally felt at ease, the dark sky of the evening a blanket tucking him into a dream that he thought he’d never achieve.

He left your arms to guide the boat back to the docks, but couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand as he drove you home. He never wanted to let go, afraid that he would wake up back in his empty room, cold and alone. That bitter fear manifested in a plea, overlapping with one of yours as he walked you to your apartment.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

“Come over?”

The two of you stared at each other before bursting into laughter, the tension dissolving in your combined joy, effervescent. When the laughter faded, the stare remained, his eyes looking into yours with the gentleness you had come to rediscover, like his pupils were melting with every photon bouncing off your skin. It erased your hesitation as you leaned up on your toes to place your lips on his for a quick fleeting second, before giggling.

Jungkook felt his entire body blush from the simple brush of your lips, and he wanted to cry again, his reservoir far from empty. His fingers touched his lips, almost in disbelief, but the tingles that radiated from them made him believe it was real. Your chuckles brought him out of his haze and before you even knew it was happening, he pulled you towards him with the hand still attached to yours, landing his lips on yours. 

He knew he was being a little too needy, his mouth a little too sloppy as it molded to yours, but when he gently laid his hand on your neck, he could feel your pulse galloping in time with his, and it made a whimper escape his lips. You captured it with yours, caressing it with your tongue, coaxing more of its friends to build a symphony you adored, till the grin on your face made kissing him difficult.

“You whimpered first,” you whispered, your nose scrunching at his groan, and you pinched his cheek before turning around to unlock the door. But Jungkook had gotten a taste of the paradise he thought he would never see again so his arms wrapped around your waist, his chest to your back and his nose buried in your hair. He inhaled the jasmine, his eyes closing in content, as you all but dragged him inside the apartment.

“It’s not fair,” he complained, shutting the door with his foot, his lips kissing anywhere he could reach, your cheek, your eyebrow, your jaw, your neck. “You’re a goddess and I’m helpless.”

Your giggles gave birth to the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach and turned to confetti in his chest, and soon he was turning you around, kissing your lips, tasting the cherry tint that adorned them. It was muscle memory, the way his tongue caressed yours, gentle and hungry in equal measure, the way his hands grabbed your thighs till your legs were around his waist, their warmth fanning the fire growing within him. He held you tight, grateful for his strength because in that moment he wanted nothing more than you wrapping yourself around him, your chest against his, your arms around his neck, locking his lips to yours.

He blindly followed your instructions to your bed, his lips never leaving your skin, even when they migrated to your neck, where they suckled. He knew he reached your bed when it hit his shin, the pain radiating from the bone a mere afterthought to how you looked lying in front of him, flushed and breathless.

He climbed on top of you, slotting himself between your legs and devouring your lips once again. “I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice just a vehicle for his heavy breaths. “I missed you so much.”

He kissed you again, but you held his face between your hands, stopping him momentarily. You wanted him, wanted him more than anything, but your heart needed a little more assurance, more than his searing kisses and the adoration dripping from his eyes.

“Promise me you won’t leave again,” you pleaded, words a little too weak for your liking, but it was the best you could with the way you felt, as if you were on the edge of floating away. 

The tears that Jungkook’s lust had hidden away returned as his lip quivered. He hated the little wobble in your voice, the desperation dripping from your words, but it was ‘again’ that echoed in his head, reminding him of the mistakes he had made. How he had broken your trust under the guise of revenge. Reminded him that he had screamed at his father for abandoning his love, for not fighting for it, when he had done the same based on a headline. He didn’t know if words would ever be able to convey his regret, to convey his gratitude for another chance with you.

He whined your name, as he fell next to you, landing on his back and covering his face in shame, mumbled apologies breaking your heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, refusing you to let you pull his hands away from his face. You didn’t want his regret, his sorrow, you had only wanted assurance, just a few words to push your insecurities back into the dark. Straddling his waist, you ran your hands up his shirt, till they were over his, and bent down to kiss them, pecking the skin again and again till you coaxed away the palms covering his features.

“No more crying, Kookie,” you cooed, the nickname foreign on your tongue but something you’d been resisting from calling him ever since he ate the horrendous cookies you had baked from him. You should’ve used it earlier because the way Jungkook’s face lit up made you warm. His eyes peered at you from behind his dewy lashes, and his mouth pulled in a shy pout that made you want to put him in your pocket.

“Kookie?” he sniffled.

“Can’t I have a cute name for my boyfriend?” You forgot your earlier fears, your mind fixated on how you had never felt affection like this for someone, wanting to challenge them and protect them, all at the same moment.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, awe lacing his words with wonder.

“Want to be my boyfriend, Kookie?” you giggled, pulling his hands fully away from his face, lacing your fingers with his as they landed next to his head.

“Yes please,” he said softly, his jaw tipping upwards, lips meeting yours halfway in a languid kiss that seemed to go on forever. His hands squeezed yours as you extended them above his head to lay your chest against his, deepening the kiss till it stole your breath and kept it hostage next to Jungkook’s.

When your lips parted, your forehead remained glued with his, as did your eyes, crossing as they memorized each speck in his irises, the rich dark chocolate melting into the ebony of his pupils. He nuzzled his nose against yours, stealing a few kisses.

He didn’t know if it was the lights in the room or the glow in the chest that made you look so ethereal, your hands warm in his as your hair cocooned the two of you in a moment he thought would never come. He never liked crying, especially in front of others, but it was like all his emotions were on the surface bubbling up till they had no choice but to escape as moisture from his lids. 

When you kissed him again it felt like the first time, when he lost the concept of time and space, his world shifting to a slate bursting in bright colours. The pink of the blush of his cheeks, the blue of the bed sheets below him, the orange of the specks behind his eyes, the red of the blood rushing through his veins at breakneck speed, the purple of his love bursting through his soul. An amalgam of shades that launched the little moans from his lips to yours and captured the sounds you reciprocated. He couldn’t hold it back anymore when your hands left his to cradle his face, to pull at his hair, to unbutton his shirt. 

“I love you,” he moaned when your kisses left his mouth on their journey to his jaw to his neck. “I love you so much, Y/N. Is that okay?”

You were taken aback by his timid confession, by the way his lip quivered with emotion, the way his glassy eyes looked at you with expectation. Whenever any man had uttered the same phrase to you in the past, it had been laced with confidence, with an expectation of gratitude, but Jungkook was pure — an innocent exclamation of love, spoken just because he couldn’t hold it anymore. It was brave — he was brave — and it made you the same, putting words to an emotion you were too afraid to even think about. 

“I love you too,” you whispered and Jungkook grinned wide before promptly breaking into a sob, holding you close and burying his nose in your chest as he sat up. You held his head, stroking this hair till his grip around your waist loosened a little and he looked at you. 

“Thank you,” he muttered against your skin, his tone painted with reverence, looking small despite being much larger than you, his arms clinging to you tighter. “I never thought I’d ever find you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thought I wouldn’t ever find anyone who’d love me back,” he giggled a little deliriously and you couldn’t help but kiss him, spilling your affection into him, and Jungkook thought he was the luckiest man to ever exist when you told him you loved him again and again.

With each kiss, you loosened one of his buttons till his shirt was hanging only on his arms and your lips were painting mosaics of roses on his collarbones, his chest. He could feel his breaths getting heavier, but his desire for you was stronger than his need to breathe, and so he was unzipping your dress and pulling it off your body, silently congratulating himself for figuring out that it zipped from the side. 

When he saw you sitting on him in just your panties, he felt like he was going short-circuit, like the two of you were in an abyss that housed only your bodies floating through infinity. He captured your lips again, harder than ever before, his hands grasping any and everywhere, till you were rolling your hips against him in time with how he rolled his tongue against yours. With every swivel of your hips he grew needier, needier for you to consume him, to carve him under your skin, till he was spinning you to the bed and hovering above you.

It felt like ecstasy in your veins to have Jungkook above you, but you were greedy for more. Your hands traced down his back, feeling each muscle as he shivered against you, nipping at your neck. When you reached his belt, you made quick work of undoing it, unbuttoning his pants, and cupping him over his underwear. He moaned against you before latching on to your nipple, his tongue flicking the bud as he suckled, eliciting loud moans of your own. 

Before long, you had him naked, your hands working the precum down his length so slowly Jungkook thought he would lose his mind. He told you as much as he moved lower down your body, removing your panties as well as your hand from his cock so he could lift your legs to his shoulders and devour you.

He had only tasted you once before, but he had been dreaming about it since — the musky scent clouding his senses and the sweet sour taste exploding on his taste buds. He thought he would cum just from the first lick but he held on, egged on by your mewls as your fingers gripped his hair and your hips rode his face. When he sucked on your clit, you yelled a chorus of his name and he got brave enough to slide a finger in, his eyes rolling back at the warmth.

You couldn’t help the way your legs shook next to his head, your brain unable to comprehend how amazing he felt, and when his one finger became two you were almost at the end of your control, your walls spasming as he increased his pace at your request. Unlike the first time, Jungkook was focused on your clit, and it was the quick flicking of his tongue that made you come undone with loud expletives and bursts of orange behind your eyes. When you pulled at his hair, he quickly got the cue, his lips moving to your thigh where he gently made the skin bloom with the edge of his teeth before travelling up your body till he was kissing you.

“Can I...?” he asked, his voice airy and eyes pleading, grinding against your thigh in a way that seemed entirely unintentional, and you couldn’t help the giddiness that exploded through you, making your heart blossom florals.

“Are you sure you want to?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Jungkook answered, determined, kissing your breath away before a softer “Please?” escaped his lips. You had no choice but to oblige because you too, like him, hadn’t been more sure of anything else in your life.

Guiding him to slowly fill you up, you held his hand as you enveloped him. He couldn’t help the cry of your name that bubbled from deep within his chest when he was fully within you. Nothing had ever felt so extraordinary, so indescribably perfect, as he buried his face in your neck, the soothing scent of your perfume, jasmine and lilies, calming him and making him feral all at once. He knew he was shaking, his senses lighting up with every slow caress you granted him, and when you finally gave him permission to move he let his instincts take over.

He always thought he’d be bad at this, that he would lose it the moment he entered you, but his desire to never let this moment end was stronger. Tasting the salt on your skin he moved his hips faster so he wouldn’t have to leave you for too long. You kissed the side of his head and whispered adorations, and it was nothing short of heavenly, like the cosmos had worked together to ensure that the two of you melded perfectly. This moment, this bed, was the singularity pulling him into you, leaving him helpless and happy to become a part of you, now and forever. He never wanted this to end.

“Cum for me, Kookie,” you whispered, your voice chocolate smooth and all too enticing as he lost himself, spilling inside you with a groan that reverberated through the room. He didn’t dare leave your comfort, collapsing on top of you, relishing the way your legs crossed behind his back and your free hand slowly soothed him by tracing warm patterns on his back.

“I love you,” he murmured yet again, wishing he was a poet that could arrange words in a way that was less generic, but when you said the same words back to him, he realized there was nothing else he’d rather hear.

----------

“Kookie! I cannot believe you want us to marathon this whole thing. It’s six seasons!” you exclaimed, turning your nose up at the teen show from the nineties currently playing its seventh episode on his obscenely large television. He grinned at you in that endearingly cute way that scrunched his nose as he walked in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn, plopping onto the couch next to you, his arm easily pulling you in to cuddle into him.

“Dawson’s Creek is the best show ever written,” he said cooly, popping a kernel in his mouth and cooing at your glare, before relenting, albeit with faux disappointment. “But I guess since it's our one month anniversary, I’ll let you pick.”

“I told you we’re not doing monthly anniversaries!” Your protest turned into giggles when he pouted at you, making you push his face away. He whined, grabbing your hand and kissing it, making you stupidly flustered. Even though Jungkook and you had been together for a bit, his romantic side always made you shy. 

Instead of teasing you like he usually would, he smiled, letting go of your hand to kiss your lips instead, once, twice, three times. He loved the way you whined cutely before grabbing the remote and moving to sit between his legs so he could perch his head on your shoulder the way he liked to.

Jungkook relaxed back on the couch, his arms tightening around you as you scrolled through Netflix, and somehow he had never felt more relaxed. He nuzzled into you with a grin, feeling warm and content, breathing in your scent. It was then that he felt his pinky twitch where his hand rested on your waist, and he couldn’t help his eyes as they zeroed on to your hand around the remote, watching as yours did the same. 

Jungkook had always believed in the old myths, and as he saw the subtle movement of your finger, he knew that his belief wasn’t in vain.

-

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

I hope you enjoyed the angst! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

taglist- @ressjeon, @joonights, @mwitsmejk, @daggerbeneathmygown, @moonchild1, @drumsofheaven, @thisartemisnevermisses, @kaepjjangiya, @bbydoejk, @emsuzz, @crewzie-chan, @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @agustdjoon, @codeinebelle, @hobiandsprite, @bbydoejk​, @kaepjjangiya​, @thisartemisnevermisses, @drumsofheaven, @moonchild1​, @daggersandicedcoffee, @mwitsmejk, @hisunshiine, @wearenot7withu, @btsrapline9​, @jalexad​

[keijisprettygirl]

➺ synopsis ;

𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 & 𝗽𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀. 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗲𝘀, 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱. 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗮 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗺, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗰 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀. 𝘀𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻?

Pogue! Kuroo Tetsurou x Kook! fem! reader

➪ 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑆: ongoing

➪ 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝑅𝐸: Outer Banks (OBX) AU, SMAU, AGED UP! angst, fluff, drama, summer break! forbidden love

➪ 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝐸𝑅𝐴𝐿 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺𝑆: profanity, judgemental and rude rich people, toxic relationships/friendships, rivalry between two social classes, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, suggestive themes but nothing too kinky! Kita is an asshole ):

➪ 𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇: open | now closed.

➪ 𝐴/𝑁: this does not follow the storyline of Outer Banks and it won’t matter if you haven’t seen the show! also, pretend Outer Banks is in japan and not in the US😭🙏🏼

( always read fun facts after every chapter )

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤?

A Kook is a person who lives in Figure 8, in the north side of the Outer Banks. They are typically well-off and have the most power on the island.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐏𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞?

A Pogue is a name given to a group of people that are from The Cut, the south side of the Outer Banks. The Cut is home to the working class, citizens who make livings bussing tables, washing yachts, and running charters.

Kooks ❣︎ Pogues

❥ Ch.1 | POGUES 4 LIFE.

❥ Ch.2 | im trying to make you my step daughter y/n.

❥ Ch.3 | fight me rat.

❥ Ch.4 | NO pogue on kook macking.

❥ Ch.5 | are you drunk?

❥ Ch.6 | she’s like a spitting cobra

❥ Ch.7 | stalk some milfs down at the peer.

❥ Ch.8 | fuck you. you absolute buffoon. you fucking cretin.

❥ Ch.9 | please don’t HEHE me rn.

❥ Ch.10 | what is funny about a cat in pain.

❥ Ch.11 | kuroo you suck shit bruh eat a toe.

❥ Ch.12 | i said i hate you, are you deaf.

❥ Ch.13 | okay simp.

❥ Ch.14 | shes deaf.

❥ Ch.15 | ok girl i see you *purrs*

❥ Ch.16 | finish your sentence you ugly bitch.

❥ Ch.17 | spit on me.

❥ Ch.18 | SUS ??????

❥ Ch.19 | reminder: slay them all.

❥ Ch.20 | lmao don’t be a little shit shoyo.

❥ Ch.21 | miss girl….

❥ Ch.22 | where you saw bae???

❥ Ch.23 | mr l/n…....?

❥ Ch.24 | im gonna fucking kill you sunarin.

❥ Ch.25 | you’re too annoying to listen to.

❥ Ch.26 | arent y’all inlove or something? tf?

❥ Ch.27 | HELP. I HSVE BEEN ATTACKED.

❥ Ch.28 | CHILE ANYWAYS.

❥ Ch.29 | yeh ong i swear on aran’s life.

❥ Ch.30 | WAIT WHY’D YOU REMOVE ARAN??

❥ Ch.31 | Cthulhu is a fictional cosmic entity!?

❥ Ch.32 | man shut up i swear u jinx this shit

❥ Ch.33 | …

❥ Ch.34 | …

❥ Ch.35 | …

— 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 ~

[matthewtkachuk]

how to be a heartbreaker: rule five - rafe cameron

Rafe Cameron’s privileged upbringing has let him get away with far too much, for far too long. Between his tormenting of the pogues, running his mouth without consequence, and arrogant attitude, it’s time someone knocked him down a peg. Breaking his bones didn’t work, but maybe you can break his heart.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use

word count: 4.8k

a/n: here she is the last rule. all i have to say is we’re sorry and we love yall so much, don’t cancel us on the dash. please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry, love you guys so much!!

“Is this last rule even necessary?” you rolled your eyes, listening to JJ blabber on and on. John B jumped in now and again to add extra information that JJ glossed over but for the most part, your blonde friend took the lead again.

Kie chimed in, “I don’t think that y/n of all people needs to be reminded not to fall.”

“Yeah, do i look stupid enough to fall for Rafe Cameron’s charms?” You said, giving JJ an inquisitive look. 

JJ smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders, “Look, I trust you but you John B thought it might be a good one to add.” 

“You never know what life could throw at you, kid,” John B chuckled, sipping on his bottle of beer, “to be on the safe side.” 

You stood from the couch, a grin on your face as your hands rested on your hips, you looked at each one of your friends in the eye. “I promise you all now, I will not fall in love with Rafe Cameron.” JJ smirked at your response to the worried looks, reaching out to do your handshake with him before he started to talk about the next rule.

“Rule five: when they call, don’t be the first to fall”

Weeks passed in a blur, punctuated with spending more and more time with Rafe - more movie dates in the back of his truck, spending time at the driving range as he jokingly accused you of embracing your inner kook, taking you for rides on his yacht (which you had to admit was much more impressive than the HMS Pogue), and eventually taking you to that fancy restaurant on the coast. It was also interspersed with less and less time spent with the Pogues, you were pulling away from them whether you realized it or not.

On a night when Pope finally convinced you to spend time with them all, you were perched on a broken lawn chair as your friends sat around the dying fire with you. 

As you sat there, nursing a can of warming PBR, your mind wandered to what a certain kook was doing. You thought about the way he made you laugh, how his body felt against yours, the slow way he claimed your body and your mouth, the look in his eyes after you had both finished, sweaty and spent, wrapped in each other’s arms. You thought about the soft way he played with your hair as you laid your head on his chest, the way it felt to fall asleep next to him, and the soft and quiet joy you felt waking up with his arm around your waist. Panic set in as you realized the implications of your feelings. Your.... feelings. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes widen as you began to comprehend the truth, stupid bet and stupider plan be damned, you were falling for public enemy number one, Rafe Cameron himself. Your mouth went dry and you began to have difficulties breathing. Suddenly a mess of blonde hair was in your face as JJ kneeled in front of you. Despite your earlier fight, you were still his best friend and when JJ noticed you about to slip into a panic attack, he reacted quickly. 

You vaguely recognized the words leaving his mouth as your name and, ‘are you okay?’ but the sight of him was distressing you more. How could you be falling in love with Rafe Cameron when you were already deeply in love with the boy in front of you? The two were bitter enemies, no love lost between them. The thought distressing you more and more you could only shake your head and weakly attempt to push his hands from their place on your knee, gasping out “Pope, I need Pope.”

JJ’s face fell, the realization that he’s no longer the one you turn to for comfort stings but he calls out for Pope, stepping back at letting his friend help you through it. He watched intently as Pope calmed you down, breathing with you and trying to get you to focus on his voice and your surroundings. JJ stumbled over a branch, watching you grip to Pope like a lifeline, and he realized then that he lost you. He hasn’t seen you in weeks, and if he did, it was for ten minutes maximum. He’d come by your house and it’d be empty, he’d wait in your bedroom and each time your bed looked as if it hadn’t been used in days. His messages went unanswered and it was getting hard to ignore the gossip of Rafe Cameron dating a pogue that fell off every middle aged woman’s tongue as he mowed their lawn. 

He took one last look at you before turning his back to his friends and stalking away from the chateau with only one mission evident in his blurry mind. He ignored the protests of Kie and John B, feeling his friend grip his wrist to stop him but he made a clear break to his bike, jumping on it and starting the engine, making a beeline to figure eight. 

An hour or two later you were making your way down the beach away from your friends. You had noticed JJ wasn’t there when you’d finally calmed down in Pope’s arms, but you just shrugged it off, assuming he’d found some blonde barbie touron and gone home with her. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the anticipation of seeing Rafe, he had messaged you earlier to meet him down by the lifeguard station. Despite your earlier freak out, you knew that your feelings for Rafe were genuine and you couldn’t wait to see him, to put all this behind you and start a real relationship with him, if he’d have you.

Spotting his tall figure sitting on the beach, you smiled to yourself and approached him quietly, covering his eyes with your hands and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. You felt him tense up, and your brows furrowed, Rafe had never acted so stiffly around you. Not since you’d started whatever was going on between you. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he spoke lowly, sounding as though his throat was raw as he pulled your hands off of him. 

“D-Do what?” you asked, stepping in front of him and grabbing his face in your hands. He leant into your touch for a moment, eyes closed before they slowly opened, revealing his red eyes. 

“Pretend,” he looked right into your eyes and deep into your soul as you felt your heart shatter. 

“Pretend? Rafe?” you don’t know why you were asking him, the realization had set in quickly that JJ wasn’t off with some touron, he was off ruining your happiness. Rafe stood up from the sand, his stature towering over you but he didn’t look as intimidating or as confident as he usually did, he looked heart broken. You had done it, you thought bitterly to yourself. You had perfected how to be a heartbreaker.

“Maybank told me everything, your stupid little plan, the stupid bet. All of it,” 

 “R-Rafe,” your voice broke, taking a step closer to him but he stumbled away from you, “It’s not what you think.”

Rafe scoffed drily, shaking his head, “You’re going to do that now? I know everything, y/n! You can’t fucking deny it! I trusted you with things, I-I opened up to you about everything… my mother,” he cried, ignoring the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t care how he looked in this moment, he couldn’t care less if someone was filming him to expose him at some big party; he fell in love with you and he was broken, he wanted you to know how you made him feel.

“Rafe, when I agreed to do this, I wasn’t thinking about the ending… I was just thinking about how to get back at you for all the shit you put us through.”

A loud, heavy sigh passed his lips and the anger furried behind the agony, “That’s the problem with you and your fuckin pogues,” Rafe snapped,  “You think you’re all innocent and I'm this awful monster you can pin the blame on. As if Maybank doesn’t start half, if not more of our fights, as if he’s never said something disgusting about my sister to me thinking he could get away with that. As if you didn’t pretend to fall in love with me just to see the look in my eyes when you tell me it was all a lie.” 

“Yes, okay, I admit it, I was pretending at the start,” you shouted at him, feeling all your emotions piling over the edge, “But I wasn’t pretending for the last few weeks. Rafe I-” You blinked back tears, sobs threatening to rip from your lips, “I fell in love with you too.”

“How do I know you aren’t pretending right now? I bet that would be real funny to you and your friends, convince me that you’re in love with me too just to make it hurt even more when you pull the rug out for real.” He shook his head in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe he had been so wrong about you. He thought that you cared for him, that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. When JJ had showed up at his house, Rafe hadn’t believed him at first, you couldn’t be that cruel. But the look on your face when he said ‘you don’t have to do that’ confirmed it all for him. Rafe thought the worst pain he would ever feel in his life was standing over his mother’s casket at her funeral, but this came close. 

“I'm not, Rafe, trust me… I’ve never felt this way about anyone and yes, I’ll forever regret how it started but-”

“You already won, you don’t have to pretend anymore,” he shook his head, interrupting you and turning to walk away.

“Rafe, stop!” you begged, grabbing onto his wrist, but he easily shook you off. 

“Congratulations, you got what you wanted, I fell in love with you,” Rafe muttered, disdain dripping from his tongue,  “I hope you and Maybank are really happy together, don’t ever speak to me again,” he snarled, giving you one last look before he walked away from you. 

“Rafe, please,” You begged, before you felt your knees give out, collapsing into the sand. The sobs you had barely been keeping at bay finally escaped your lips, the sound heart wrenching to anyone who was unfortunate to be near enough to hear them.

JJ must have been nearby, because he was on you in a second, “y/n?!” He was gripping your shoulders, attempting to pull you in for a hug, but you shoved him as hard as you could away from you, and frantically clawed at the sand to propel you backwards, away from him.

"This is all your fault!" You wanted to scream and shout at the top of your lungs, but you couldn't, your voice was a weak whimper. JJ watched you intently, his heart slowing at the sight of you, tears streaming down your face. He can count the amount of times he'd seen you cry on one hand, and it was a sight he wanted to erase from his mind completely.

"Y/n, i-" but he didn't know what to say. He knew what he'd done, he wasn't thinking about you when he said those words. He was solely focused on breaking Rafe's heart that he never considered yours.

“I know you couldn’t ever love someone like me, but that didn’t mean you had the right to stop everyone else from it. Am I that repulsive, that disgusting that you feel the need to ruin any chance I have at happiness?” You sobbed, head falling into your hands. You knew JJ would never love you the way you wanted, and you knew that he was always threatening boys to keep them away from you, but you never thought he would actually do this.

“Y/n, that’s- that’s not-” he was struggling to find the words to say to show you that wasn’t how he felt about you at all. 

"I-I'm done, JJ, I'm done chasing something that will never happen," You shook your head, voice hoarse from the screaming and the crying. The one man you wanted to wrap his arms around you and comfort you couldn’t even look at you anymore; the man you shared the softest of moments with in such a short span of time, the man that made you feel something, made you feel wanted and loved. 

“Y/n, we can work this out,” JJ pleaded, kneeling down in front of you but you shook your head, pushing him away again. “You’re my best friend and I love you, y/n.”

You choked out a strangled laugh, “Love? Fuck you JJ, you don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“That’s not true, I know I love you.” He pleaded again, stupidly reaching for you a third time. But this time his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to him and he crashed his lips against yours. You struggled against him, his grip strong and tight until you bit his lip. He let go of your wrists in shock and you took the opportunity to slap his cheek as hard as you could. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried at him, “You can’t just do that to me JJ. You know that I have been in love with you our whole lives, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to do this ever.” You finally managed to get up, tears falling from your face.

“Y/n, I-” he started again, realizing that he had well and truly fucked up this time, possibly ruining your friendship beyond repair.

“Congratulations, you broke Rafe Cameron’s heart… but you also broke mine.” You spit at him and walked into the night.

JJ sat there on his knees for a moment in shock, staring at his hands that had just held you. His lips were tingling with a kiss that he had craved since the first and last time when you were both fourteen. But it was all wrong. He had waited too long, thinking that you would always just be there in the wings, waiting for him to get his shit together and then you could be together. He had always just taken for granted his beautiful best friend, the one who he swore up and down he didn’t have feelings for, but deep down he always knew he did.

One minute, he’s wallowing in the consequence of his actions, the next, Pope is shoving him, telling him to ‘get up’.

“You idiot!” Pope shouted. JJ had never seen his best friend this mad before, and never at him. Not when JJ had pulled that gun on Topper, not when they had sunk that boat, not even when JJ had attacked you for sleeping with Rafe. But here Pope was, practically shaking with rage that was all directed at him. “When I said tell her how you feel, I didn’t mean destroy her relationship with Rafe and attack her with your face.”

“Yeah, but it was a relationship with Rafe. Cameron.” JJ enunciated the syllables of his enemies first and last name. 

“A relationship that you unconsciously set up, and no matter who it is with, y/n is our best friend! We should support it, but we’ll never get the chance now because y/n is a sobbing mess in the house adamant that Rafe wants nothing to do with her. Because of you!” 

“I- I didn’t want to hurt her,” JJ lamely replied, eyes downcast on the sand rather than look into the rightfully furious eyes of his best friend.

“And what did you think was going to happen when you exposed the plan to Rafe? Or when you tried to kiss y/n right after her heart was torn out of her chest, huh? What is wrong with you?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, man,” JJ ran his hands over his face, exhaling loudly. 

“Clearly,” Pope replied drily, shaking his head at the idiocy of his best friend, wondering if there was a way to fix this, or if JJ had ruined everything.

Only a few feet away, you lay curled up against Kie’s side as she stroked your hair and let you cry on her shoulder. “I love him, Kie, I love him and he wants nothing to do with me. And he’s right to want nothing to do with me. What do I do?”

“Right now, you sleep it off.” She said softly, not understanding your love for the boy who had only ever made your friends’ lives hell, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t support it, support you. You loved her for that.

“And then?” You whispered sleepily, the exhaustion of the last hour of your life seeping deep into your bones.

“I believe if two people are meant to be together, eventually they’ll find their way back.” 

Tag list:

htbah taglist (link to add yourself to the google form in the series masterlist!): 

@solllaris @drewswannabegirl @starrystarkey93 @httpstarkey @sweetlysilent @drewstarkey @dontjinx-it @ultranikilove @spencereidbasis @meaganjm @starlightstarkey @thortheestallion @jiaraendgame @idocarealot @tempestuousjj @pink-meringues @dpaccione @arianabrashierstuff @softstarkey @loveylangdon @xenagzb @teenwaywardasgardian @prejudic3 @nxsmss @canibeoneofthepogues @outerbanksbro @obx-direction-sos @nqbmf @digniteas @annedub @colorful-queen-of-the-roses @yesp0ny @loveniallandharryonedirection @fantasticpsychicfanfish @girls-breaking-hearts @beautyandthebleh @casper17 @mozz-are-lla @parkershoco @unfortunatekiwitrash @loverofmineluke @slutforjjmaybank @skiesofthesketchy @httpstarkey @sugarcoatedcalum @amorisxx @trinnwazheree @stargazingstarkey @obx-saltlife @juliarose21​ @hyperactive2411​ @mcarignan​ @feyrecauldron-blessed​ @sportygal55​ @popcrone818​ @wtfkie​ @raekenliar @letsgotothehop​ @walkingtothesun​ @outerbanksbro​ @summerkaulitz​​ @glux64​ @itslilithsstuff​ @softsunlightskies @kaitieskidmore1​ @mycowatemyhw​​ @poguepunk​​

rodeo rafe babies who said they were interested:

@royalmerchant​ @outerbankslut​ @honeyycheek​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @https-luna​ @butgilinsky​ @rae131415​

diverdcwn everything taglist:

@velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline​ @copper-boom​ @x-lulu​ @prejudic3​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @sunwardsss​ @rudyypankow​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @maybankfullkook​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @socialwriter​ @bluesiderudy​ @anxietyandtacos​ @diverrdown​ @stargazingstarkey​

[blankdblank]

Poke Pt 7 - Yacht Party

…

Whistling in the exit of your closet Eddie took in your own toga reminiscent style dress the bright white sheer layered skirt was slit up to the upper thigh and met the golden belt that separated the base from the lace top. With thick straps in white and a low dip in the cleavage almost to the belly button that flowed out to reveal the golden glittery heels you had chosen for the event. “Wow. You need a sign to remind gentlemen to pick their jaws up off the floor.”

“Funny,” you teased, folding a stretchy pair of shorts to cover the thigh holsters for a couple of your daggers for worst case scenario that also would help keep guys from peeking up your skirt if the wind blew the slit back too widely. “I’m sure no one will care about my dress as I death grip the wall.”

“I can skip the trip to prison if you need me there.”

“I’m ok. If I feel bad I am not above fainting or breaking into hysterics to have Tony himself fly me home. Or maybe Prince Thor, I think he can fly if he has his hammer.”

“You can beat this evening. I know you can.”

After a hug for him you said, “You’ll miss visiting hours.” And he chuckled hugging you back and kissed you on your cheek taking notice of the one side of your hair braided back so you could flip the rest over to your left side knowing the boat would drive it wild no matter what you tried to do with it.

The ride didn’t calm things and from the concrete pathway to the wooden docks your focus shifted in a means to calm yourself on the pelicans and gulls who watched your stroll beyond the guards at the entrance who took your invitation shared the lit pathway would guide you to the proper ship. At the base of the plank bridge to get onto the yacht you paused hearing the guests already aboard.

Mid stare at a gull hovering above the boat in a try to focus on anything but the fact you would be out on the open ocean for who knows how long you flinched to look at Sam in his step up to your side with an impressed whistle. “My sister would die of envy seeing this ship. She loves to sail.” His eyes landed on you asking, “Ever been on a boat like this?”

“I’ve been on ferries, but I haven’t been over the open ocean yet.”

“You’ll be okay. Stark’s probably built this thing himself. Bound to be unsinkable.”

“Well, there’s a history of unsinkable ships that beg to differ when it comes to that claim.”

He chuckled and said, “We’ll be just fine. Just in case,” he said showing his duffel bag at his side holding his metal wings, “Brought my wings, things go south The Falcon’s got you.” To yourself you grinned and followed him up into the monstrosity of a boat.

Surely one that would make your ancestors weep, not just for the luxurious ability to have food storage, running clean water and plumbing but for the fact that nothing of the earth other than the single fallen tree stump of an end table was here. The wood was fake same as the faux leather seats and imitation marble finish on the metal surfaces. Nothing of this boat showed the respect boat makers used to put into building sea faring vessels to keep from displeasing the Gods in crossing the tumultuous open ocean and you guessed that might be why they always bothered you.

With legs crossed you sat with eyes fixed on the open ocean in your second level seat unable to keep on your feet to mingle in the crowded floor below. “Thirsty?” the voice at your side brought the sudden place of Prince Loki there with two drinks in hand, one of which with a pacifier band around the stem of the fruity blended drink he offered to you. “The bartender insisted I offer you this one.”

Unable to help it you chuckled and accepted the drink, “It’s a virgin margarita. Thank you.”

“What would maidenhood have to do with drink offers?” he asked and you glanced away to keep from spitting your sip of the drink on him. “Is it repulsive? I shall demand a new drink to replace it.”

You shook your head and giggled in catching his eye to say, “Virgin, when related to drinks means alcohol free.” And his eyes narrowed, “It’s illegal for people under 21 years old to drink alcohol in this country. Others it ranges from 14 to 18 depending on their culture.”

“Why would they have such variation?”

“Because hardly any of the countries share the same faiths, histories, cultures or beliefs on how they should be governed. So just stubbornness and idiocy.”

“I had hoped the drink would aid in a welcome of my company, you seemed troubled when I arrived.”

Softly you chuckled and replied, “Quite humorously for my bloodline I have a fear of open ocean outside of wooden boats.” His eyes locked onto yours in a moment of shock, “There’s no earth in this boat. Vikings paid homage to the Gods for smooth sailing across the oceans. Might just be me.”

And he grinned your way stating, “Not only you. Those who can hear Yggdrasil have higher expectations when it comes to vessels. Your ancestors would be proud you wish to honor their traditions, the ocean is not a fair mistress, she is an insurmountable warrior, she demands respect.”

“How have your candles and soaps been?” You asked to change the subject, uncertain of what meaning his lingering stare into your eyes meant.

“Quite exquisite. Thank you again for your care in crafting the mixtures for us to our likings. Your customers have been favorable of temperament?”

“For the most part. Before the shoes Natasha and Steve bought me I got shunned a bit because of my clearly worn name brand shoes, but the new ones have helped to give me a bit of credit to my image. Used to be called an immigrant and now people are asking if I’m paying my dues in the entertainment or beauty world until I get my big break. When Stark came in I almost thought he would just order enough to use that as a means to force me to accept the money he offered.”

“What should it matter what shoes you wear when you are working?”

“The shop has an image to uphold for their most superficial of clientele.”

“Should they ever release you from employment alert my brother and myself and we shall raze the building to cinders.” That had you giggle around your next sip and he said, “You doubt my loyalty.”

“Not at all, Prince Loki. Merely I question how Stark would handle the discovery of who was behind the attack after he’s vetted you both as Heroes.”

“Not one person in my lifetime has been foolish enough to dub me a Hero. I am the God of Mischief and Deceit.”

His eyes lowered to the hand you offered him that his rose palm up to accept, “Fool, right here, pleasure to meet you.” To himself he chuckled and smiled in a glance away. “See, that smile,” he glanced back and chuckled again as you said, “Pure sunshine. You can’t convince me there’s evil in there no matter how many times you stab your brother.”

“I unleashed an army on New  York,”

“Oh who hasn’t unleashed havoc on New York. Havoc is the new pink pumps of the season, everybody has to have some. New York, Washington, California, your brother leveled a town in New  Mexico. Now you go and attack Rhode Island or someplace small like that then we can talk crossing into unthinkable territory, which is seven miles below evil. You have to earn evil.”

He smirked and at the notice he was still holding your hand he released it to take hold of his drink for a sip to break his stare only to look down at that hand resting on his knee when the boat began to pull away from the dock. “I murdered my birth father.” He blurted out as if to try and not lie to you or make you believe he was anything but evil as most from his planet thought.

“Did he raise you?”

“No.”

“Were you close or just a birthday card once a year type of situation?”

“He abandoned me at birth in a frozen tundra in the midst of a battle between the Jotuns and Asgardians and never acknowledged me as his child or that I even existed.”

You nodded and said, “Selfish quim had it coming then.” Throatily to your sip of your drink he chuckled and bubbled into a few moments of unforgiving laughter. “I’d pick Frigg as a mother any day over that bastard.”

“King Laufey of the Jotuns, or Frost Giants, as some nations dub them.”

“Odin’s half Frost Giant in the legends. They knew each other?”

“Odin,” his eyes fell on you, “Father is half Frost Giant in the legends?” You nodded and he said, “He never speaks of this if it is true.”

“Well he’s probably jealous.” You said and his brow twitched up, “If it was between me and you to be Jotun I’d stay mum simply because you have to be the peak example of Jotun prowess.”

“Asgardians tell bedtime stories of Jotuns to terrify their children and frighten them to behave or they will be eaten.” He said mournfully and looked out at the sea.

“I’d start biting people then.” You said and in the spread of his smile you said, “Always a monster till you’re necessary. How the universe works. The odd one, the new one, that one who doesn’t belong. Till they need you, till they’re scared. So much easier to be scared of the new than to trust it. Well I trust you,” you said and he caught your eye again, “And you can’t stop me. I’m stark raving mad with power and will cackle in their disbelieving faces for not trusting pure sunshine.” You said with a wide smile making him chuckle again.

“Are you certain there is no alcohol in that drink?” He teased.

“Just tons of sugar.” You said taking another giggle laced sip as he took a sip of his own drink. “I heard you’re over seventeen hundred years old? How does that line up to our age progression? If that isn’t too personal.”

“Roughly similar to your age I would presume. Young adulthood.”

You gasped and said, “And they gave you alcohol, someone get this man a pacifier.” You said teasingly turning your head to call it out making him chuckle and simply use his arm closest to you to prop himself up to scoot closer.

“Shh,” he whispered through a chuckle by your ear and you giggled again. “There is little substance on this planet able to inebriate myself and my brother.” He said with his eyes focused on yours when you turned your head slightly to catch his bright gaze and smile.

The ship took a wide turn and your joking mood waned and his hand covered yours at the returned grip of his knee to lace his fingers under your palm, and next to your ear he asked, “How would you like to play a game?” You caught his gaze and he grinned nodding his head at the crowd stating, “Say a name.” He watched your eyes dance over the women in toga influenced gowns surrounded by men in both togas and white and golden suits and you chose one from the back that with a flash of green in his eyes had the man start to dance absurdly awkward luring out your smile and giggle again.

Innocent fun, insignificant playful pranks that had Prince Thor search for his brother in the crowds until he spotted him at your side with his hand on yours. Loki would never have openly chosen such a public display with anyone he dared to imagine courtship until proper tasks of approval had been sought for and by the clear try to not let you have a break to focus on anything but his magic. And the game upon his knowing Thor was looking his way had the Prince conjuring fables and joking tales in front of the possibly distressed young Shieldmaiden he would never dream of damaging her honor. Something was bothering their young respected friend and his brother while Thor saw to his sea wary Mate was distracting his chosen companion for the evening in a far more acceptable use of his magic at this party.

Some food was sampled from the migrating attendees made from faceless drones that somehow had you more weirded out than the ship. One of which that had Peter hanging on his back while it held a bucket and led him to lie down on the couch beside the pair of you. The move had you inch closer to the Prince and had his gaze drop to the thigh pressed against his to something hard he felt tap the side of his leg. He felt himself unable to help but smirk at the clear hilt of a dagger poking out from underneath the shorts that blended into your skirt from afar in its same brilliant white shade. And in a low purr beside your ear as you handed over your empty glass to a drone to free a hand so you could check Peter’s temperature the Prince asked, “Please tell me that’s a dagger on your thigh.”

With a blush to the green mist that eased the hilt of two coiled snakes in bright silver into view widening his grin as he caught sight of the full design. And he could imagine the blade in his mind by the hint of metal beneath the hilt his mist hid away again as Pepper hurried over with some sea sickness medicine. “Where else would I keep it?” you whispered back widening his grin to the point he nipped at his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Pepper in her trot up to Peter’s side offered him a fizzing drink he accepted and took your help to prop himself up to sip on it, “Here you go Peter.” And her eyes rose to you asking, “Are you sea sick too? I haven’t seen you on the main floor since we took off.”

“I’ve got a thing with metal boats in open ocean,” her lips parted, “I’m good sitting. Body just prefers wood boats it seems. Prince Loki’s been distracting me.”

“Well if you need anything let us know.”

“Does he make a lot of these drones?”

Pepper sighed saying, “It’s a new thing. He said he’d make them faceless since I thought fake humanoid ones might bother me, but these aren’t any better, sadly.”

“Because he does know about all the evidence on making AI’s and how devastatingly bad that could go?”

“I remind him daily. Only, seems he forgets, daily. Progress,” she said shaking her head and rising to her feet to go check on another person muttering, “This party is the stuff of nightmares with these waves.”

In a glance at Loki you asked, “If Stark builds AI’s can I plead asylum on Asgard?”

He smirked asking, “AI?”

“Robots with free will. Always turns out that they want to destroy the human race. Borderline Ragnarok for our race.”

“Should there be any danger to this planet we will grant you asylum. I give you my word.”

“How important are potatoes on your planet? Because if they don’t grow there I will be smuggling some there. My ancestors didn’t get to enjoy them in the older generations, but I know they look down on me in envy. Even broke I eat like a King.” Making him chuckle again. “I’m serious, one of the best foods discovered on this planet is the potato.”

“Potatoes are amazing,” Peter sighed after finishing his drink and laying flat again. “I would bring lemons. My aunt gets this big smile when she sees lemons. I don’t get it, but it makes her happy. And I’d have to bring her too of course.”

Loki smiled saying, “We have six variations of potatoes and four lemon breeds. The pair of you and young Peter’s aunt would be amply pleased.”

“Could I have a sheep? My parents promised to get me a sheep when I was bigger. Or is it mainly city spaces without any room for cottages?”

“We have a mixture of both. A quaint cottage could be arranged, or a plot of garden and field to keep your sheep in should you prefer an apartment in the Palace. With ample workers to help train you in treatment and sheering of your sheep when necessary.”

In a giggle you replied, “I would need sheep lessons.” Making him chuckle as well.

At their sides save for a trip to the bathroom you remained until the boat docked again and Loki rose to gently help you up and lead both you and still unsteady Peter to the dock. The assigned car to drive you back however found him reluctantly in release of the hand his had been fixed in for hours now. “Thank you, for the asylum and the sheep,” you said in words that muffled in the ears of the Prince whose cheek you had left a peck upon. “Sleep well, Sunshine.” You said and in a lower to sit inside the car.

“Sleep well and safe on the earth, Shieldmaiden Pear.”

.

Vision. The newest Avenger had his face plastered across the internet and all you could think of was the promise the Asgardian Prince had made you and it just made your stomach turn. He was so polite and out of everybody he could have spent his time with he seemed to gravitate to your company. Even when a long train ride let you take a long stroll in Central Park that had you run into the Super Soldiers and Sam on a run. When the Zoo was mentioned the Princes seemed to appear in mid air and as if to counter Bucky’s time with your attention another animal would be pointed to and his questions would arise all aimed your direction.

End to end between your fingers your Mate button box was flipped to tap against the counter easing the slide of your fingers to the bottom to aid the lift and flip of the box to do it again. No matter why he was focusing on you there had to be a line and you couldn’t stop hiding from your fears of finding out who your Mate was by humoring the attentions of the Avengers. Onto the counter you settled the button box and gave the button a single tap that almost an hour away had Loki’s eyes twitch off his book confirming he was alone in his gifted apartment followed by an irritated grumble and nestle back into his spot to ignore the unhelpful poke of his Mate from this infuriating planet.

Several taps more in a notice of the muffin bag you had gotten from a café earlier that had you murmur, “Let’s meet for coffee at the Blue Bird Café. Nine AM.” Your fingers tapped before you could think it through just how many could understand Morse Code this day and age, you just had to try and see if anyone would turn up.

And just like you knew it deep down, no one did, at nine or ten when you had finished off pretending to write out something in your pocket journal after you’d finished your first cider and just wanted to go anywhere but there.

 *

Glaring as he made his way to the group lunch after a much needed breakfast alone Loki plopped into his seat and turned his gaze to Natasha at her asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Ten minutes my Mate poked me last night, ten minutes. All in some absurd pattern,” Loki repeated the pattern with the tip of his finger on the table and had her, Bucky and Bruce listening to the meanings of the taps.

Bucky however asked the question the others didn’t, “So did you meet your Mate for coffee?”

Loki glared at him, “I beg your pardon?”

Bruce, “That’s Morse Code. Old school. Must have been eager to meet you rarely hear of people using it these days outside of military or science families.”

Loki asked in a slightly panicked tone, “Where would I meet them?”

Bucky said, “Blue Bird Café, nine am.”

Loki didn’t have to look at the clock but said in his rush from the table, “It’s half past noon!”

He didn’t know where that was but he knew who to talk to to get into Stark’s system. Knowing fully he had links to cameras everywhere. “Red Man, I require your assistance.”

“I am Vision, Green Noble.” The Prince led the way to one of the public labs that linked to his system that Loki linked into the simple online page of the only Blue Bird Café in New York that was located in Queens.

“I need you to help me use Stark’s system to see who was in this café this morning.”

“Are we searching for a culprit in a crime you are aware of?” Vision asked in his hover beside the Prince.

“My Mate used Morse Code to send me a message I did not understand last night and I missed the meeting they tried to arrange. I wish to know who I have spurned to offer my apologies and win back their favor.”

“Oh, very admirable then.” He said lowering as he said, “I am under the understanding that a Mate is the strongest bond you might find in your lifetime. I anxiously await my eighteenth year to have earned my own chance to meet mine.” Raising his hand to link to the system that began to shift the screen windows to delve through the system to first link into the café’s security and the street cameras to watch every person from eight am onwards.

“Pluto,” Loki muttered in the sight of you wearing an anxious expression and a slightly less casual dress entering the café, ordering a drink and muffin with glances at the door to every entrance in a clearly sinking mood as Vision continued to run facial recognition through a database while the video played.

Vision said, “From the 47 customers 24 are legally married and another 17 have announced themselves as engaged on their social media accounts.”

“Pluto Pear, that woman. When did she leave exactly?” Visio read back the time stamp and he said, “I need a print out of this list, I’m going to start with her.”

Vision asked to the print of the page behind him, “Does the young lady hold a certain physical appeal for you to begin with her?”

“I know her. I would never wish for her to believe I have left her there alone. As if I had refused to meet her on the grounds of being my Mate.”

Vision said, “Ah. Then yes, begin with the young Miss Pear.” He said offering the printed sheet that Loki accepted and hurried with rushed thanks in his race out to go and the whole while his mind raced with a single repetition, it had to be you.

Truly for months now any excuse to cross paths was taken including a laughable amount of candles and soap with films, trips out between your shifts and group meals he always made certain to be chaperoned for everyone’s comfort and for your honor the Prince searched. You were the one to make him laugh and find some sense of ease on this planet with a person who seemed to genuinely care about his comfort and tried to keep him from growing too homesick or thoughts on his lineage to spoil his wishes to ever return. If you weren’t his Mate he never desired to meet the person who dared to poke him. He didn’t want to be forced onto anyone else, he had subconsciously chosen you for a while now and would continue to do so.

 *

Three knocks soon bled to five and before the sixth could land you had opened your front door to the wide eyed Prince who rapidly opened his fist to an awkward wave. “Miss Pear. Might I come in?”

“Sure,” you said letting him inside closing the door behind him in his awkward check of the single room apartment with a lingering gaze at the boat shaped bed he pointed to mid amused smirk. “My first year here there was a play they used that as a prop in and put it up cheap for sale after it closed. Really comfy.” You looked him over and asked, “You have to go on another mission? Only seen you twitchy like this when you had to leave town.”

“No,” he replied and moved closer offering the cider in his hand you hadn’t noticed. “I owe you a drink.”

In the narrow of your eyes you accepted the still warm cup saying, “Thank you. Don’t recall how, but thank you.”

“I don’t know Morse Code.”

Your lips parted to ask over the thunder of your heart in your ears, “Did you want me to teach you.”

“Not today, thank you.” He inhaled sharply and said, “I know you went to the Blue Bird Café this morning and I know that you didn’t meet the person you had hoped to.”

“I-,”

In a step closer he cut you off saying, “Because I don’t know Morse Code and it took me repeating the lengthy set of taps that kept me up last night to those amongst the team who do.”

“Oh,” you squeaked out in realization of what you guessed and halfway hoped he might be saying.

“So I came here to ask you to poke me again,” his eyes lowered to the finger that rose to tap him in the center of his chest that had him let out a breathy chuckle and scan his eyes over your face that was still devoid of anything readable but uncertainty and shock. “No, with your button, do you have it?”

“Oh, button,” sharply your head turned setting the drink down and gingerly he shadowed you in your circle of your bed to the near burrow under the fake fur blanket you had to do to grab the button that seemed to try and keep it hidden for itself. When you stood again you eased your fingers around the sides of the box with its mint colored button now a deep green that with a press of your thumb had him exhale shakily to the poke he felt.

He didn’t know what to do or say and yet all on its own it seemed his body acted to first cradle your cheek then lean in to press his lips to yours in a blind hope that however possible he could seal this bond to never break. Just as loudly as yours his heart thundered in his chest for the action his body had taken without permission.

And when your eyes met again his breath hitched hearing you whisper at the sight of the swirls of green mist that had filled the room with sparkling veins of gold to glimmer around the both of you. His skin now blue with raised ridges trailing across his skin in snowflake like unique markings to just him from his Jotun blood paired with his crimson eyes. “Was that supposed to happen or was it on accident.”

“The mist was unintentional.” He hummed back lowly and in his lean forward to brush his nose to yours his body melted forward at the toe top lift to kiss him again. With the close of your eyes covering his shift back after his notice of the color of his hand still on your cheek. An action and pose he lingered in to savor every second of it.

“Blue is a good color on you, Sunshine.” You said and his lips parted only for the growl of his stomach to make you grin and claim his hand and say, “Let’s feed you and that angry rhino you swallowed.”

Out of your slow cooker some jambalaya was served for the both of you to go with the cheesy mashed potatoes you topped with bacon bits he amusedly poked with his spoon as if it was possibly toxic. “I’m not going to poison you,” you giggled out.

“No, there is a topping like these pebbles on Asgard and it is merely awful.”

“Well this is tiny bits of bacon.”

“Bacon,” he said in an intrigued tone and took a bite he hummed around making you giggle to yourself.

“Midgard isn’t so bad, we’ve done amazing things with bacon.”

“That you have,” he said filling his spoon again with some of the jambalaya that while he chewed it his eyes scanned over your face in your downwards gaze, “Are you pleased?” he managed to ask when he swallowed lifting your eyes again to his.

“Could use more sausage. They’re so stingy on the weight per cent these days.”

“With me?” He asked in a near squeak afraid of the answer.

“As my Mate?” you asked and he nodded, “You are indescribable. You can do magic, I mean come on, I started magic when I was a kid and dreamed to have someone who would be so much more spectacularly talented than myself. Need I say, the essence of pure sunshine in your veins. You accept my Norse roots. Some people would just label me a witch on that alone. And you tolerate my weirdness, major plusses there.”

“I would assume, my title-,”

“Psh,” you said lifting his gaze from his bowls. “I would be honored to be bound to you if you ran a button stand.” You said triggering an awkward grin across his face at the compliment. “If anything the expectations of your possible requirement to take up after Odin on what I would only assume to be a possibly uncomfortable looking golden throne in that floating golden Palace would trouble me for the increase of scowls that would develop from the stress and drive that smile of yours away. Not to mention the heightened risk of stress on the heart from a job of that level.” After a moment of his amused grin your way you asked, “Do you really live forever?”

“Roughly 5071 years.”

“Well Bucky’s close to a century and he hasn’t seemed to age much, Steve was frozen for most of his. So I suppose logically, I can’t say how long I would be around.”

His brow inched up and he said, “I would find you. No matter where in Hel they settle you to spend your afterlife.”

You nodded and asked in a rather embarrassed tone, “No possible way I could get to Valhalla then?”

“You most certainly could well earn place there. Few Midgardians are welcomed, I did not mean to worry you or offer insult.”

You shook your head, “It’s just all different than how I was taught. You’re Frigga’s son, and Thor isn’t a redhead, no telling what else could be different. I mean did you at least give birth to a eight legged horse Odin rides around on?”

“Did I what?” he chuckled out with a widening smile.

“I mean who wouldn’t be able to learn to love a guy who gave birth to Hel, the Goddess of Death; Jörmungand, the serpent that surrounds the world; and Fenrir or Fenrisúlfr, the wolf; and Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse.”

“Thor did advise us the mortals had warped our tales, yet I had no imagination it could be that vastly different.” He paused and asked, “Hel, is she prominent in my life in the tales? I have never heard of a Goddess of that name.”

You said, “Those you had with the female giant Angerboda. You seem to love her in the tales. Though most of your tales I prefer include your other wife, Sigyn. You had a son with her, named Nari or Narfi.” His lips parted, “Odin uses your son’s intestines to chain you to a rock where snakes drip their venom on you and she sits beside you with a bowl to collect it. Though when she dumps it out and the venom drips on your face you thrash around causing the earth to quake. It’s quite the tale of devotion in Norse Mythology. There’s actually quite a tale for how you got married, she was betrothed to another and on the wedding day you kill him and take his shape and then reveal yourself after and she tells Odin she will honor the marriage. Sigyn’s basically known only for her devotion to you.”

“I have never wed, nor know of a Sigyn. I could never imagine my father able to bind anyone with the innards of their own child.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shook his head, “No, you have not upset me. Although I am curious to ponder on when the tales stretched so far from the truth. Perhaps an exceptionally harsh winter with little to distract from boredom.”

“Well that’s the thing about legends. Everyone who first heard or saw them happen is dead. Kind of like the phone tree game,” his brows furrowed a moment in confusion to the name, “One person in a circle whispers to another, it can be a word or funnier a phrase and gradually through the circle the words change. Sometimes for the worse. Known a few to end in fist fights when they made us do it in schools in some mock trial to stomp out bullying as a sort of way to display how gossip explodes like wild fire. Then again it could be a testament to hearing loss rather than weak attention spans on trading whispers.” As you eyed his grin after a glance away to fill your spoon you said, “Sorry, got away from me there.”

“You did not wander far. Often I find people who ramble show great promise of intellect. Brains that are rapid to focus on new topics are very welcome amongst our scientists.”

“It must be amazing, your home.”

“My people are brilliant compared to yours, however very gullible. Hence my prowess in mischief.”

“Well, if you assume to have all the answers why would you bother looking for more?” making him smirk proudly at your words. “They’ll learn, with enough shoves in the right direction, or enough books to hurl at them. Sometimes you need a bit of mischief to open some eyes.”

“Thor has been working up the nerve to request a trip for his Mate Jane Foster to Asgard. I imagine her introduction to our scientists would be less productive than to hear from one who has crafted a rainbow portal on her own with only supplies from Midgard. Even our best crafters alive today could not tap into that technology. When Thor broke the rainbow bridge that aids in the control of the Bifrost Mother had to travel to Hel to consult with one of our scientists we had lost a thousand years prior.”

“That must have been fun for you to experience.”

“I wasn’t there,” he whispered in a downward glance then cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath, “Perhaps I should share something else, other than my race with you.” When his eyes did rise he almost flinched seeing yours on his, “There’s a, being, a Titan.”

“Like in Greek Mythology?”

“I’m, not aware of their history.”

“Sorry, Titan?”

“Thanos. I fell from the bridge when Thor broke it. Through the open void of the universe I faded to, I don’t know where. There, Thanos found me. His henchman tortured me.”

“Loki,” you said reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm that had his hand turn over to wrap around the underside of yours welcoming the contact and sadness not pity in your gaze.

“I was gone, for so very long, time is, difficult in varied realms to compare.” He wet his lips and continued shakily, “I managed to escape, with a deal. He sent me with the scepter to bring him the tesseract. There are these stones, with different powers to control parts of the universe, he wants them all and has others to locate them for him. That was why, I opened that portal. Why I killed people. To let them know something bigger is out there, and that it’s coming.”

“Okay.”

“He wouldn’t have come on his own, but I lied to him. And my Father can’t protect this planet, or won’t. I won’t let him hurt you though. I swear. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

“That’s a tall order in this city. Plus even doors are a danger to me when I’m in a hurry.”

“I’m being serious, he has decimated civilizations before and enslaved millions he allowed to survive.” His eyes scanned yours finding an expression he couldn’t decipher and he asked, “What is that look for?”

“I have secrets, terrible things I should tell my Mate, for fair playing field since you’ve been so open with me. I do trust you, I just,”

“I understand.”

“It’s just been mine, for so long. Nearly my whole life now, and Eddie, he found me at and back again from my lowest point,” Loki nodded and bit the inside of his lip at the tear that rolled down your cheek all of a sudden. “He was the first person who cared since I got here, and I just had to tell someone. It was breaking me, and he got me help with his therapist, which has helped. I just, I don’t know why, but even with you being able to rain aliens down upon us, I’m scared to tell you everything.” Another tear down your cheek had him lean in closer to your side. “Because if you knew, what I am, you would hate me. I don’t know why Eddie hasn’t left yet. He should have left me by now.”

“He is not going to leave, and no matter what pain that lies in your past, I will not leave you. And I will wait until you welcome me into the fold. No matter how long it takes.”

The rest of the meal he remained at your side and moved with you to your couch to inch closer to cuddling through a film that allowed you both to a comfortable silence. Droops of your eyes however had him excise himself to allow you to rest. When you were on your feet however with sight of his back his body went rigid to the poke he felt that had him turn to see you with your button in hand say, “Double checking.”

Gently he claimed your free hand and raised it to his lips to kiss your knuckles on the hand he cradled after, “Get some rest. Tomorrow should Stark not interfere, hopefully I could arrange a lunch to make up for my misstep this morning.”

“Not your misstep. I shouldn’t have assumed anyone else would know Morse Code.”

“I will learn, there is no fault on your part. Only imagination.”

“You get some sleep too, Sunshine.” His grin widened, “Keep that stress on your heart down.”

“I shall try my hardest with Stark in the same tower.” He said stealing another press of his lips to your hand before he released it and led the way to the door you closed and locked behind your unbelievable Mate you secretly wished would have tried to kiss more than just your hand the second time.

Pt 8

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

[houseof-harry]

Omfg please do a concept where gray and his girl watch 365 days together and it leads to hot steamy sex lmfaooo idk if it's weird but g's all like "wanna fantasize about another man now huh love? Speak up baby. " 😌🤤❤️

Okay listen if you’ve spoken to me literally once ever you know how I feel about hairy italian men. I need one. I must have one. Also, spoiler alert for 365 Days.

Which is exactly what Massimo is. And going in Gray knows you’re probably going to love him because of how much you tell him that you love his beautiful, muscular, hairy ass italian body.

What he wasn’t expecting was for the girl to be tied to the bed while he got his cock sucked. And he was not expecting to see as much as he did. But what really got him?

Feeling you squirm between his legs on couch while you watched all this go down. It was hot, sure, but was his dick getting hard? Only a little.

You couldn’t sit still, though. And he wanted to see how long you’d make it through the rest of the movie before you caved.

And when the yacht scene, started, it was over. Watching her get her shit rocked by Massimo was literally making you wet. And at this point, Grayson was annoyed. Why dream about Massimo when you could have Grayson?

“Babe.”

“Hmm,” you hum, your eyes not leaving the screen.

His jaw clenches as he reaches for the remote to pause the movie.

“Hey,” you whine, squeezing his leg to try and prompt him to play it again.

“You hey,” he huffs.

Your brows furrow as you do your best to turn and look at him. “What?”

“Why are you literally get turned on by Massimo?”

You laugh, turning back to lean against his chest, cuddling further into the blanket. “Are you watching?”

“Of course, Y/N, that’s how I know you’re turned on by him.” You can hear the annoyance in his voice and a part of you feels bad, but you think it’s funny knowing how jealous he is right now.

“You literally jack off to porn, how is this any different?”

You can practically hear the gears of his head turn as he tries to justify his annoyances, and you know after a minute of silence he’s coming up with nothing.

You roll your eyes, letting your attention drift back to the screen, playing the movie.

Grayson is losing his fucking mind. He’s sitting here, his pretty girl between his legs while she gets turned on by another man. So, he does what he sees as the only option: sticks his hand in your pants.

“Grayson!” You grab his wrist as he grunts, his fingers just barely brushing over the front of your underwear from the position you’ve stopped him in. You turn to look at him like he has three heads as he refuses to remove his hand from where it lies against your front. Of course he could continue if he wanted, your grip nothing compared to his strength, but he would never actually do something you didn’t want.

“What?” He questions, acting as if all is normal. As if you’re not sat on the couch, in the living room where Ethan could come in at any time.

“Get your hand out of my fucking pants.”

“Do you actually want that or are you just scared of getting caught.” The smirk is wide across his face because he knows you too well. You’d never admit to thinking it’s hot as fuck for him to touch you where his brother, assistants or friends could walk in. But he notices how you might take it a little far making out in the kitchen before leading him to the bedroom, or how you made him pull over on the highway instead of waiting until getting home, or how you’ve wanted to fuck him at the private beach or on the balcony of houses you’ve stayed in. He just knows.

So when you turn back around, letting his wrist go as you lean back into him again, he’s got a victorious smile on his face as he continues to move his hand further down. He expected wetness when he stroked his middle finger along your covered slit, but he didn’t expect to feel as much as he did.

A shocked chuckle bubbles up from his chest as he continues to feel you, his mouth coming close to your ear so he can whisper. “Looks like I’m gonna have to rent a yacht just to fuck you on it now.”

You whine, because quite frankly you’d love for that to happen. You’re not usually one for the fancy things in life, neither was Grayson. But the thought of fucking him on the top of a boat in the middle of the ocean? Fuck.

He’d force you to stand, pulling your leggings and underwear down from his sitting position as fast as possible. You’d try and climb back onto him, but he’d hold your hips for a moment, leaning in to kiss the skin of your hips softly. You could feel his hot breath drag across your skin with his movements and it gave you chills in anticipation for what he had planned for you.

“So. Fucking. Beautiful.” He punctuated every word with a kiss, his lips nearing closer to your center every time.

Your cheeks blush as a hand comes to the back of his head, scratching his scalp. He knew you were never great at accepting compliments and that was your way of showing gratitude. It also, however, brought him back to Earth.

He leaned back, pulling you back onto him and, much to your dismay, into the same position you were sitting in before. He covered your lap with the blanket once more before both of his hands started to brush up and down your thighs.

“You’re gonna relax and watch this stupid movie, okay?” He mumbles against your ear.

You nod, doing your best to relax your back against him and let him work.

Fortunately for you, he’s feeling generous. Well, jealous. So his fingers are quick to find your center as your eyes stay locked on the screen, but your mind can only focus on his touch.

He drags his middle finger up your slit slowly, taking in all of your wetness again. He does this a few times to coat it before he starts to circle your entrance. You whine in anticipation, wanting to feel him already. You know you’re not gonna last long.

He keeps bumping his wrist into your thigh to try and make more room for his fingers, his other hand still resting on your thigh. He tightens his grip, moving your leg to the outside of his. “Move your other leg, baby.”

You oblige, letting your other leg fall on the outside of his and off the side of the couch. Now you were sat there, fully spread on the couch, his thick thighs preventing you from shutting your legs. You knew you were fucking in for it.

“Are you watching?” He mumbles and you nod. It’s not totally a lie, your eyes are definitely on the screen. But you can only think about the way the air feels cool on your wet pussy, and how he’s hovering over it again. “Take your eyes off the screen and I’ll stop.”

You nod again, not questioning him due to the authority in his voice. You’re not sure you’ve seen him be so...possessive. It was hot as fuck.

Soon he relieves you, bringing his finger back to your center and pushing it right in. You moan, one of your hands going to his forearm as he quickly feels your spongy walls, knowing exactly where to press to make you moan.

He continuously curls his finger before slowly pulling it out and pushing his ring finger back in with it. They rub the inside of your walls together and despite there being a blanket over your lap, you can hear how wet you are from his movements.

“That for me or Massimo?” He spits.

“You, Gray,” you breathe out, bliss already filling your whole body.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” you moan, your back arching off him as he relentlessly moves his fingers in your. Your free hand goes to his thigh under yours, your nails digging into the fabric of his sweats as you do what you can to keep yourself mentally there.

“Like when my fingers fuck your pussy baby? Or do you want Massimo to come and do it?” He pauses his fingers, waiting for your response.

“You Grayson, fuck. Only want you to. Need you to.”

That seems to temporarily satisfy him because he moves his fingers once again, relentlessly pressing deep and hard into you. You can feel the muscles of his arm flex with every movements, and you can quickly feel your orgasm building in your stomach.

He brings his hand from your thigh to spread your pussy lips farther apart, his middle finger stroking over your exposed clit. The intense feeling of his finger right on your clit makes you moan loudly, your head falling back on his shoulder as your eyes shut.

Almost as quickly as the pleasure began, he’s pausing once more.

“I said watch the fucking movie, Y/N.”

You whimper, lifting your head and opening your eyes to watch the scenes slowly unfold in front of you as you wait to feel his fingers move again.

He starts up slower than his previous pace and it makes you squirm under him. You were close to your orgasm, itching to feel the pleasure rush through you, but his new pace wouldn’t bring you there as fast as you wanted.

If he got your hint, he ignored it as he continued the slow building of your orgasm instead. Your walls were continuously clenching around his fingers as his finger continue its attacked on your clit, moving to around your entrance every so often to collect more wetness on his finger tip.

Soon your whole body was sweaty as whines rumbled from deep within your chest, the pleasure he was giving you almost too overwhelming. You managed to keep your eyes open and on the screen, despite wanting to turn and kiss him. Your chest was heaving and he could tell you were close.

“Gonna cum for me or Massimo?”

“You Gray. Always you,” you moan, your nails creating crescents on the skin of his forearm.

“Then let me feel it, baby.”

With that, he was back to the quick pace, his fingers curling at a rapid speed and the surprise of his actions are what push you over the edge. You’re a moaning mess, your whole body moving around as you try to escape his hands but you can’t. He continues relentlessly, feeling your juices drip down past his fingers to your other hole and probably the couch.

He milks you of everything you have, and only stops when you completely relax against his chest. He slowly slips his fingers out of you, relishing in the feeling of your wetness one last time. He teasingly rubs your clit once with his finger, watching you twitch and groan before moving that hand from you too. He throws the blanket off you, bringing his fingers to his lips to suck what he can from them.

“Mmm,” he hums, his fingers falling from his lips. “Think Massimo could make you make a mess on the couch like that?”

You shake your head, taking his arm and wrapping it around your middle to secure you. You felt weak and tired, like you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself on the couch if he didn’t hold you.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

[favefandomimagines]

Soul Surfer 7

AN: here we go!! chapter 7 for you beautiful people!

ALSO: you can now add yourself to the tag list!! if it’ll let me tag more people! tumblr is being difficult!

Violet saw it as a miracle that her mother decided to stay in some fancy hotel on Figure 8. She chalked it up to her mother having more money since she never had to pay child support. She couldn’t handle both JJ and her mom at the same time.

“Why is she still here? Isn’t it, I don’t know, illegal or something?” Violet said to her brother. “I don’t know, Vi. Why don’t you call up a lawyer and ask?” Nick sassed.

Violet shot Nick a glare as their father walked in, the conversation coming to an end. Rob looked at his children with a strange look, the two acting a bit suspicious.

“So dad, how many orders do we have today?” Violet asked. “Way more than I’d like, which is why I recruited some help.” Rob answered. “Who?” Violet asked. “JJ.” The man answered.

Nick attempted to stifle a laugh as he nearly choked on the orange juice he was drinking. “Dad, why?” Violet questioned. “Because you two need to work things out. You care about him, he cares about you. So try to fix it.” Rob explained.

Violet looked at him before he groaned. “He’ll be here in five.” Her dad said as he left the room.

The brunette rolled her eyes before stomping outside on to the porch. When she did, she saw her dad talking to the blonde teenager.

“You can do this, Vi. Just get through the day.” She told herself. Violet approached the two, instantly feeling JJ’s eyes on her.

Rob gave the two instructions on which orders needed to be done first and which ones could wait. For a couple of hours, the three completed orders, Violet and her dad talking about who made the women’s surfing world’s team.

JJ watched the girl as she talked, the tightness in his chest worsening the longer he watched and listened to her.

After a while, Violet went inside, leaving Rob and JJ alone. Rob may have been meddling in his daughter’s love life but JJ made her happy and that’s all he wanted for Violet.

“She hates me.” JJ said, breaking the silence. “She doesn’t hate you. You two just need to talk through things. With her mother in town, it’s just not a good time for her and she needs you and your friends.” Rob said.

JJ sighed as he continued to wax a finished board, when Violet came back outside.

“I uh, I have to go file that paperwork with Nick. I’ll be back in a couple hours. You two have fun.” Rob said.

Violet paused momentarily, mentally cursing her father for leaving her alone with JJ.

The pair sat in an awkward silence, something they haven’t experienced with each other before. Usually they had trouble not shutting up when they were together.

“So,” JJ started. Violet glared at him through her eyelashes, the look making his chest hurt.

“Violet, can we please talk? Civilly?” He asked. Violet set a bar of wax down and looked up at JJ waiting for him to continue.

“I’m so sorry. I fucked up and I know that and I hate that I hurt you because I never wanted to hurt you. And I don’t want to do that again.” He said.

The brunette was quiet for a moment and nine times out of ten, that wasn’t a good sign.

“I didn’t even tell Kie or Sarah about my mom. I told you because I trusted you. I could have easily lied to you but I trusted you and felt like you deserved to know. But then not only did you tell everyone while yelling at me, but you used it to hurt me when you were the one who attacked Rafe.” Violet started.

She could see JJ was about to make a rebuttal so she quickly cut him off.

“And I know you were trying to defend me and that you had good intentions but you completely turned that anger onto me and that’s not fair. I don’t know what it is that gets you so angry but-” Violet said. “It’s my dad.” He interrupted her.

“What?” Violet questioned. “My dad is the reason I get so mad.” He explained. JJ walked towards the girl and lifted his shirt, revealing three purple bruises on his abdomen.

Violet’s face fell at the sight, all anger quickly dissipating.

“When he drinks he gets mad and when he gets mad, he takes it out on me. That night when I saw Rafe, I got into a fight with my dad four hours before. Rafe was just the scapegoat I guess.” JJ said.

“JJ,” Violet started. He quickly put his shirt back down and stepped back a bit.

“I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to feel bad for me. I told you because I trust you, Vi.. And I hope you can trust me again.” He said.

Once again, Violet was quiet and JJ assumed the worst. That was until she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away.” She whispered. JJ held on to her tighter when he felt his shirt grow damp and felt Violet’s body shake slightly.

He broke the embrace and cupped her face in his hands. “Hey, don’t cry pretty girl.” He said softly, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the tears off her face.

“If I wasn’t so stubborn you wouldn't have to go back home and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” She said quietly. “You wouldn’t be Violet Elliot if you weren’t stubborn.” JJ told her. Violet looked down at her feet, still feeling guilty for what happened.

“Everything’s okay now, right.” JJ asked. “I don’t think anything will ever be okay with my mom in town.” Violet replied.

JJ looked down at the girl, wishing he could take her away from what was upsetting her.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asked. “What? We can’t, we have work.” Violet said. “We finished the whole list your dad gave us. We can take a break. You need a break. At least for a little while.” The blonde told her.

Violet looked from JJ to one of the finished surfboards. She looked back up at JJ before giving in.

“Okay fine. Where are we going?” She asked. JJ’s smile grew as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards his motorbike.

“We’re going on a boat ride. Just the two of us.” He answered. Violet furrowed her eyebrows but got on the back of the bike anyways.

__

They arrived at John B’s, JJ knowing where his best friend kept the spare keys to the HMS Pogue.

“Are you sure John B won’t mind us taking the boat?” Violet asked. JJ was pulling her excitedly towards the dock. He hadn’t been able to spend time with Violet alone in three weeks, maybe longer.

“He’s with Sarah on Ward’s fancy yacht. Trust me, he won’t care.” JJ replied.

The blonde boy helped Violet on to the boat and he wasted no time getting the boat going. He took them to the marsh, the Pogue’s usual hangout spot and tossed in the anchor.

Violet sat on the edge, her feet dangling over the side. JJ moved to sit closer to her, his eyes trained on her.

“I missed you.” The brunette spoke. “I probably shouldn’t have but I did. I’ve been here over a month and I already don’t know what a day without you is like.” She added. “I missed you too. You have no idea. I wanted nothing more than to climb up to your window when I needed you.” JJ replied.

The two looked at each other, both of them leaning closer. Violet wasn’t scared to kiss JJ, it was quite the opposite but the opportunity to push JJ in the water was presenting itself.

The brunette placed a hand on his bicep and pushed him over the side of the boat and into the water.

When JJ resurfaced, Violet was laughing so hard she nearly toppled over. “Oh you think you’re funny?” JJ asked, swimming towards her. “Oh I think I’m hilarious.” Violet replied.

JJ nodded his head before he grabbed Violet’s ankle, pulling her in the water with him. The girl resurfaced and instantly splashed JJ. “That was rude.” She commented. “Now you know how it feels.” JJ replied.

The two subconsciously swam closer to each other as they were treading water. “Hey, Vi?” JJ questioned. “What’s up?” She asked him.

The blonde boy brought a hand up and rested it on the side of her face as he looked at her.

“I really like you. And I’m not good with stuff like this. I don’t know how to act or what the right thing to say is. Before you, I didn’t want a relationship. Especially after seeing what happened with my parents. But, then I decided I do want that. With you.” JJ confessed.

The brunette looked at him for a moment before she quickly and deeply pressed her lips against his. JJ was shocked at first, not expecting Violet to make the first move but he soon quickly kissed her back. It was something the two had been waiting for for a while. And it was everything they thought it would be and more.

They pulled apart slowly, JJ waiting for Violet to say something back.

“I want that with you too, JJ. I’ve just been waiting for you to do something about it.” She said with a small laugh. “So you were waiting on me?” He asked. “Well, duh.” She replied.

He smiled down at her before he kissed her again. The two were soon interrupted by the distant sound of a phone ringing back on the boat. JJ groaned, not wanting to leave that moment and go back to the real world.

“That’s probably John B. Wondering who stole his boat.” Violet joked. JJ frowned before they both swam back to the boat. JJ got on first and pulled Violet on after him.

JJ’s phone was still ringing when they got on board and he answered it, quite annoyed.

“What?” He asked. “Dude, where’d you take the boat?” John B asked. “I’m with Violet.” JJ answered, putting the phone on speaker. Violet assumed John B did the same because she soon got a text from Sarah.

Sarah: what happened?!

Vi: we kissed

The two could hear Sarah scream on the other end of the line. JJ looked at Violet, knowing she was the cause of Sarah’s reaction. John B started rambling questions to JJ before Violet took the phone.

“Okay, by!” She said into the phone before quickly hanging up. “Why’d you do that?” JJ laughed. “Let’s not have John B ruin this moment.” She answered.

The blonde smiled as he pulled her into him. Of course they’ve hugged before but this time there was a different meaning behind it now.

“Do we have to go back?” Violet asked. “He’s gonna need his boat back eventually.” JJ answered. “But going back means facing my mother.” She said. “Do you think she’ll stay long?” JJ asked her. “God knows.” Violet muttered.

After a few more minutes, Violet and JJ decided to head back to John B’s. Hoping to use the ride back to talk about the new meaning of their relationship.

“JJ, can I ask you something?” Violet asked. “Of course you can.” He said. “What are we now?” She questioned. “You told me you wanted a relationship with me, I kissed you, now what?” She added.

JJ was quiet for a moment, and decided to take a leap of faith. “I want to be with you, Vi. I want us to be together.” He answered. “Really?” Violet asked. “Of course. Plus, I beat Rafe at something.” JJ said with a smirk.

Violet laughed and pushed him slightly at his words. “What? It’s true! I beat Rafe at something and I can’t wait to shove it in his face that I got the girl and he didn’t.” JJ commented.

“Boys are stupid.” Violet laughed. Once again, JJ smiled at her, feeling like he did when they hung out for the first time.

Just as they passed the docks that lined the coast of Figure 8, JJ noticed Violet’s mom was talking to Ward on the dock.

“Why is your mom talking to Ward Cameron?” JJ asked. Violet looked in that direction and saw what JJ was looking at. “I have no idea.” Violet sneered. “They’re both terrible people so it doesn’t surprise me that they herd together.” She added.

“Ward knows a lot of lawyers. Do you think she could be trying to get her rights back?” JJ asked. “She can’t even have contact with me until I’m 18 when I’m a legal adult. No lawyer will risk their reputation to cover for a woman who broke the law.” Violet explained. “God I hate that woman.” She muttered.

JJ gripped her hand tightly seeing the topic of her mother had a pattern of setting her off.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine.” He told her. “God, I hope you’re right. Everything’s finally going right, I don’t need my mother ruining it.” She replied.

JJ looked down at Violet, thinking of a way to make Violet happy. And the only way he could think of that’ll do that, is if her mother leaves the Outer Banks for good.

Tag list: @outerbxmalia @hockeyschmockey @allie-mcginn @prejudic3 @sexualparkour @k-k0129 @iamaunicorn4704 @milamaybank @jj-maybabe @diverrdown @sweetwatermelonsugar @alexa-playafricabytoto @aaleksmorozova @fandom-phaser @princessmugglecup @infinityspaceuniverse @teamnick @lulbabes @frankiebcanon @srirachabi @starxdame @holadrxrry @lopineapples @belledutchess @floridabornandraised @obbx-tings @x-lulu @hopelesswritingxd @prettyboyspence @junkiemuppettxx @shawnssongs @theloxersclub @99sxuxii @jeyramarie @miliefayy @rudths @y0ungandfuckingdumb @xealia @hotel-colson @bubblesam06 @outrbank @thebendslikebendover @wasted-on-5sos @booksandshish @drizzlethatfalls @runway-to-my-aid @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @xlittlemissydjx @strawberryblondies @haharudy @chickencrispers666 @simonsbluee @httpstarkey @kylable