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jiminrings · 2 years

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fifth wish

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 18k

glimpse: jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead?

alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.

[ angst, unrequited love (at first), emotional constipation, jk is Very Frustrating to be with, so much pining, the constant repetition of the notion that one must amount to something to be deserving of love, rlly wholesome fluff, mentions of blood n injuries, whole 360 redemption arc dw i am not evil ]

notes: i’m back :) this belongs to the take five universe (take five feat. yoongi, nine to five feat. jimin) n although it’s a completely different jungkook, it’s still on the same vein!! thank u for waiting for me <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

Jungkook reminds you that love is unfair.

He reminds you that love is unfair in the same way you remember that you don’t belong to his world. He’s the walking proof that it’s possible to have everything without suffering, and as much as it isn’t his fault that he was born to it, it irks you.

You don’t hate Jungkook, no. It’s much more complex than that, something to do with the bitterness in your mind and heart from doing everything only to barely equate to what Jungkook– people like Jungkook — get for doing nothing.

You don’t hate Jungkook, he’s tolerable. He’s loving to the people dear to him; stuck-up most of the time but won’t go out of his way just to be an asshole. He can hold conversations with you, sometimes steering outside the parameters of you being his bodyguard and him being your boss. He’s rude at times but he’s tolerable — it’s the best of what you could get from people like him.

What you hate about him is that he probably hasn’t had a bad day ever in his life.

You don’t know him to an intimate degree but you know, you know that Jungkook has not worked extremely hard for anything ever in his life. He hasn’t fought for anything because he didn’t have to.

Maybe it’s just a bad day for you today, accidentally scrolling past an article that detailed about your abrupt exit from the fighting scene. It makes your throat constrict when you skim through it for a second and register the exact words that have once crossed your mind before in a fit of insecurity; you were cowardly and cheap for leaving the octagon to become a glorified babysitter for Jeon Jungkook.

Perhaps it’s such a bad day for you today that even when you think about how your job as a bodyguard pays so much more than your occupation as a fighter, it does nothing. The lack of fatigue from guarding a nepotism baby outweighs your body more than the injuries you’ve gotten throughout your career.

Despite being stagnant in the water instead of flailing around, you have never been more afloat than now. You’re financially and physically stable more than ever and it’s because you protect, not fight.

Even if you hate him sometimes, you protect Jungkook with your whole life. You guard him like your life depended on it because for so long, it’s been ingrained in your head that it was either do or die. That if you don’t work hard enough, there won’t be food on the table. That if you don’t fight desperately and harshly enough, no one would be able to take care of the people you’ll leave in your wake.

You do your best when you follow Jungkook to bars and assess everyone in there in the process, prioritizing your regard for his safety more than his remarks of you being a cockblock. You adhere to instinct and hold him by the waist in crowded places, even if he grumbles that you’re spoiling his game.

You pour your all when you accompany Jungkook to a private fitting and wait for him outside of the dressing room, patiently anticipating what he’d look like in a suit meant to accept an award for being one of the most influential individuals in this generation. You don’t know exactly what constitutes to him being influential besides being himself, but perhaps his existence itself is what’s most outstanding about him.

You pour so much of yourself that when Jungkook steps out of the dressing room, you smile at him fondly, sincerely.

You give so much of yourself that protecting Jungkook has become synonymous to falling for him.

You think love is unfair because it’s biased. It’s cruel and it chooses because love is simply not for everyone. Love is not for the weak.

Love is unfair because it finds its way to you in the form of him. You are what makes love weak, and Jungkook is what makes it cruel.

Jungkook’s parents aren’t too bad.

They’re filthy rich to start off, but they do have the grasp of when and when not to let the smell of money block their sinuses. They’re even kinder and more self-aware (surprisingly) than their son and for as low as the bar can go when it comes to people in the one percent, they exceed your expectations and more.

Mr. and Mrs. Jeon listen to whatever you have to say. They give you and the staff gift baskets for no reason, each one different from the other and handpicked by themselves because even their personal assistants are surprised with their own. They’re attentive and have no qualms in giving paid leaves whenever someone’s involved in personal difficulties.

Mr. and Mrs. Jeon value your opinion too much that they’ve become casual to the point that they could have uncoded conversations in front of you, no matter how concerning the context could be.

“Jungkook badly needs an intervention.”

Mrs. Jeon says it casually like she’s just pointing out that the clouds look like sloths driving a pickup truck and whatnot (her husband calls them ‘my wife’s silly sloth thoughts’), shallow wrinkles present between her eyebrows.

“That boy seriously needs to get his act together,” she adds, sighing as she slouches further to the couch. Mrs. Jeon tuts, crossing her arms and turning her head to Mr. Jeon, you presume. “Our son really needs intervention, don’t you think? Right, Y/N?”

The thing with Mrs. Jeon is that she has a penchant of talking to herself, obvious to where Jungkook got it from. She still looks so dignified and obscenely rich to you as she’s sprawled messily on the couch and in her sweats with ice cream stains on it, but with the sudden mention of your name, you realize that you’re not so intimidated anymore.

You look back at Mr. Jeon (in matching pajamas) who’s just nodding at you to agree, because regardless or not if he baited you to agree with his wife, you would’ve coincided with the head of the house nonetheless.

Jungkook, in simple terms, has been out of control lately.

“Yes, Mrs. Jeon.”

It’s no surprise that Jungkook’s a little hard to reign in, but what shocks you the most is that his parents even gave him a fighting chance to prove to them that he’d do fine by himself without any security detail. Even before you came into the picture, Jungkook’s been complaining for years that he can’t move outside without being shadowed. And he was listened to, of course he was listened to, but the past week is testament to how he can’t do well by himself.

A week, just one week of Jungkook proving that he can fend for himself without bringing any unnecessary drama to himself and his family name.

Night after night for the whole week he ends up on the news. Last night it was him being recorded singing his lungs out on top of a table while being piss-drunk, found relatable by most people because it humanizes the Jeon Jungkook, but repulsive by everyone else. The night before that, it was him gate-crashing a wedding reception with a suit that trumps even the groom himself. He wasn’t drunk, no – he simply felt like it. He wanted to play evening golf despite hating the sport, heard that the place was booked by a couple who worked half a decade to secure the place for their future wedding, and decided point-blank to buy a suit and show up unannounced.

He was being harder to reign in, even harder to do so in the process because he’s such a public figure.

“He needs someone to repair his image,” Mrs. Jeon sighs with resignment, knowing that her son might take change from someone other than family for a change. “Someone strong enough to handle him, both publicly and privately.”

“Like a bodyguard, you mean?” Mr. Jeon chuckles, throwing his head back in laughter. “Dear, we already have Y/N for Jungkook.”

The two of them giggle at the realization that they just had a long-winded conversation in describing a bodyguard, to whom Jungkook already has in the form of you.

It was just like yesterday when you were the esteemed MMA fighter, barely realizing that it’s already been half a year since you left the octagon. Six months ago you were bruised and bloodied yet you were winning like you usually do, the night being every other high-stakes fight night except the only difference was that Jungkook was sitting in front row.

You were the talk of the night as much as he was because despite already winning the fight against your opponent, another fight broke out just minutes after. The fighter from the undercard match stuck around in the venue until your main event finished, then angrily charged at Jungkook because he apparently slept with said fighter’s girlfriend. (Read: Jungkook did sleep with the girl but in his defense, he didn’t know she had a boyfriend — much less a professional fighter for one!)

Before you knew it, you were already jumping the fence to cut your interview short and to get Jungkook away from the commotion, instead taking the hit for him yet before you could retaliate, the impromptu fight was already called off — the fighter who attacked you was suspended, and you became the subject of praise.

Do you know Jungkook from the news? Yes. He’s the one and only nepotism baby. Do you know Jeon Jungkook personally? No.

The clip of you jumping in to defend Jungkook has garnered so much attention that it became the talk even outside of the MMA scene, your following ridiculously growing overnight. Jungkook’s parents, from sheer and excessive gratitude and remorse, offered (more on insisted) to give you a monetary award privately, but also a job.

A job that would pay you more than professional fighting ever could, and a job that even extended to Seokjin, your handler who’d go with you until the ends of the world — who’s now the head of security for the whole detail of the Jeon family.

It’s a little complex; just a slightly funny, extremely-worrying turn of events from the past six months that flipped your life and pushed you where you are now. Not bruised and bloodied while wearing a uniform, listening to Mr. and Mrs. Jeon casually talk with you and in front of you.

“I mean a girlfriend, dummy. Maybe love could change Jungkook,” Mrs. Jeon shrugs, racking her head for any possible candidates.

“A fake girlfriend for the cameras? Or do you wanna actually marry him off to someone?” Mr. Jeon seems hesitant, making you realize that he cares more for his son than he lets out to be because he isn’t as affectionate as his wife.

“No, not that far of course,” she remedies instantly, sitting straight on the couch. “Just a fake girlfriend.”

“It should be someone we can trust though,” Mr. Jeon hums, literally looking up at the ceiling as if there’s a word bubble to physically show that he really is thinking, yet another quirk that Jungkook also has. “Someone unproblematic and lovable by the media too.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Mrs. Jeon agrees instantly. “Jungkook needs someone humble. Someone kind.”

“Jungkook needs someone stronger than him.”

You’ve been so engrossed in their conversation that you notice the moment the atmosphere changed, two heads turning to look in your direction with wide eyes.

“This is private, I’m sorry. Excuse-…” you blurt because you realize you’ve just been caught eavesdropping, their lightbulb moment yet to shine on you.

“No, no. It’s not private,” Mrs. Jeon placates you, a breathless chuckle leaving her. It makes sense — it makes absolute sense. A fake girlfriend for the cameras: someone already bearing aforementioned qualities standing just five feet away from them.

“Sit down, dearie,” they coo with the same wide, excited eyes, practically pulling you down to sit between the two of them. “Hear us out.”

It’s surprising to know that at the prospect of a perfect candidate for a fake girlfriend, Jungkook’s parents’ first choice is you.

Some of the parameters of the contract were already brainstormed on the spot, including the obvious non-disclosure nature of it, your even higher pay, and the duration of it only lasting for six months. Your personal information besides the bits that the public already knew of from your fighting career (and the bits you aren’t comfortable in sharing) would be safeguarded. The living situation didn’t need much clarifications, considering you already resided in Jungkook’s residence anyway, in the main house and right on the floor below his bedroom (instead of the employees’ quarters) given the nature of your job.

Dropping the honorifics isn’t that big of a shock either, you already talk shit about Jungkook to Seokjin anyway whenever he was especially difficult.

What’s more surprising is that you agreed.

In the same way that you don’t know what possessed you when you took a hit for Jungkook six months ago, you agreed. You’re still Jungkook’s bodyguard, technically, working two jobs at this point. You can’t decipher if it’s greed or genuine eagerness that compelled you to be this invested, but you let it happen anyway.

What’s most surprising is that Jungkook seemingly has no qualms with the whole thing.

In an effort to acquaint with him better, you knock on his door to call him down for dinner instead of texting him, his eyebrows raised when he sees you waiting for him outside his door. He just knew of the contract his morning and signed it at the same time, the fake dating contracting being agreed upon as quick as the idea of it was pitched.

“Are you gonna put me on a headlock when I run away from you or something?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, his irritation as transparent as his face now that it’s evident he was fresh from a shower, seemingly the reason why he took so long to answer and not because he hated you — you hope.

“No, it’s stated in the contract. Even if it wasn’t, I won’t use force on you, y’know?” you laugh, feeling lighter now that you know Jungkook isn’t in a prissy mood today. You’re amused until your eyes wander, sinking in that Jungkook’s wearing clothes that aren’t pajamas, his watch that he only wears outdoors adorning his wrist. Now that you think about it, Jungkook’s hair is glistening not because he took a shower, but because he’s spent minutes styling it with gel.

It takes two seconds for you to put things together, and it takes Jungkook three to realize that you already caught onto him.

You know he’s planning to make a run for it so you pull him back with your hands snug on his waist, Jungkook barely making it two steps away from you before being trapped. “Except for this though. This one’s in the contract.”

He groans and tries to wriggle free but to no avail, staying rooted with the grip you have around him. If he uses his brain just a second more and thinks of you as a girlfriend instead of a bodyguard, technically, you are hugging him from behind.

“Your parents personally told me to hold you back from partying.”

“What a filial bodyguard,” he sighs, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “You’re not exactly making your boyfriend happy at the moment.”

“Sorry,” you squeak, feeling Jungkook budge against you. “I’ll let you go if you promise not to make a run for it.”

“I’m not promising shit to you,” he huffs, giving up on making you let go of him and crossing his arms instead.

Maybe Jungkook does have qualms.

“Do you want to get out of the house?” you ask to test the waters, getting the sentiment that Jungkook’s tired of his own walls and going out is his way to keep himself sane.

“Bodyguard, girlfriend, and detective? Wow, look at you go,” he mutters, the warmth creeping up to his throat little by little because you don’t seem to notice that you’re still holding him.

“Dinner with me in a restaurant outside, or dinner by yourself at home?”

“A knife so I could stab myself in the pancreas.”

You sigh at your silly thought that Jungkook would even give you a decent response, about to apologize when he utilizes your split second of distraction to break away from you, only for you to tug him back to your embrace even tighter to the point your chest touches his back.

“You don’t have to hold me so tight,” Jungkook snickers, putting your hands away from his waist as he waves you away to get his dinner so he could eat it in his room, finally getting free. “Barely the first day and you’re already in love with me.”

( ♡ )

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

Wrong. Absolutely incorrect, wrong, and falsified. When you’re in Rome, do as what Jungkook does.

Jet lag, despite being in a private one without the stress of sharing the same cabin air as screaming toddlers and feet-on-the-armrest passengers, is still jet lag. However, if you are a nepo baby named Jeon Jungkook who acts as if your throat would close up if you do not wander as soon as you land after a 19-hour flight with two transfers, your bodyguard who’s also your (fake) girlfriend’s jet lag doesn’t mean shit.

You would be more inclined to look at your surroundings and let yourself get swayed into buying trinkets if only Jungkook doesn’t get antsy if he stands in one spot for more than two minutes. Your head’s pounding from the fatigue more than it would pound in a headlock, getting blisters even if your shoes have been worn-in already. Seokjin was back in the hotel, probably having the time of his life knowing that he didn’t have to escort the brat.

“What business do you have here? In Rome, of all places?” you ask curiously, knowing that he had no official matters to attend to.

“None of yours,” Jungkook quips playfully, finishing with a scoff and throwing a look behind his shoulder.

Oh. You look absolutely spent.

Jungkook relents when you completely stop behind him with a dead look in your gaze, no longer following him even if he tells you repeatedly that he’s going to walk without you. He would push through with it, if only he didn’t feel unsafe without you shadowing him. He beckons you over, sighing heavily to give you an answer that wasn’t snarky. “One of my exes is the daughter of this guy who owns this brand. There’s a show.”

“A little more specific, please?” you hum, regaining the energy to walk side by side with him. The streets are noisy tonight, lively and warm and cold at the same time but you will yourself to only focus on Jungkook, your (fake) boyfriend who’s only getting more ticked by the minute. In fact, you don’t even know where and why you’re walking, you’re just following Jungkook because it’s obvious that this isn’t his first time here. “You’re this excited over a show? Didn’t you say couture was another term for fugly?”

“I’m getting laid tonight with my heiress ex. Yay!” Jungkook finally bursts, sounding ultimately sarcastic with his delivery but by the way he screws his eyes shut and sighs, you know it’s only truth underneath it.

“Jungkook,” you mumble, steps faltering that even he notices your sudden shift of mood. “We’re supposed to be dating.”

You don’t say it with anger but you say it with resoluteness. If only you could hear yourself right now, you would hear just how upset you sound, physique devoid of your usual playfulness. You are upset, you just don’t know if you have the actual right to be.

“Fake dating,” Jungkook corrects, subduing his tone to match your somberness. “There’s nothing in the contract that says we have to do it for real, obviously.”

“But it also says there that we shouldn’t jeopardize our relationship in public even if it’s for the cameras,” you counter, sounding more sure of yourself because you’ve spent days analyzing the contract, knowing each in and out of it by heart.

“Well it’s not like I’m gonna fuck Sumi in a park bench outside,” he snorts, tucking his hands into the coat of his pocket with a hint of anger. Jungkook clenches his jaw as if you were the one who insulted him, pointing upwards right beside him. “We’re fucking here.”

You look up to see your hotel, realizing that the two of you just walked around the whole four blocks for him to do what he pleased. “Here? In the same hotel we’re already at?”

“In my room, duh. I’m not stupid enough to get another room under my name.”

“But Jungkook I’m in our room! I’m the supposed girlfriend!” you exclaim much louder than you intended to, earning his hand over your mask for you to pipe down. Neither of you are making any move to enter the hotel just yet, instead in the middle of the plaza where you feel like one of your veins is going to pop.

“Seokjin’s room is just right down the hall. Just stay with him for the night,” he says it like it’s the most obvious alternative and the plan from the start.

“But-“

“Sumi already knows about the whole ordeal! She keeps secrets, she’s safe, we’re safe. No one knows anything,” Jungkook rants, his eyes speaking for his giddiness despite being disguised underneath a cap and a mask.

You stare at Jungkook for a good minute. There’s no telling whether it was a minute or an hour but for the time you have Jungkook now, until he kicks you out of your shared suite to accommodate his ex, you try to think how the next six months of your life would go.

Jungkook feels bare and vulnerable underneath your gaze, his hand covering his nape as he clears his throat, remembering why he’s in the middle of the plaza. “Speaking of safe, I need to buy condoms.”

“Just get Seokjin to do that for you,” you quietly reply, certain that seeing your (fake) boyfriend buying condoms not meant for you right in front of your face is just gonna add more insult to the injury.

“Nah. Don’t want to disturb the guy.”

“But you want me to crash in his room suddenly?”

There’s a knot in your throat you don’t bother clearing, choosing to look away when Jungkook buffers in his movements from looking at you to marching to the convenience store. You feel small in your uniform, maybe even a little helpless. Your heart shouldn’t ache this much, it’s probably just all of the jet lag crashing down on you.

Jungkook returns to your side without a fuss, holding a plastic bag that you don’t even want to take a peek at. You don’t move until he does and well, Jungkook doesn’t even know how he’s gonna take the short walk to the hotel without all your usual chattering.

He walks tentatively, trying to take a peek at you from any reflective surface. You only walk behind him when he’s three steps in and in his haste to look at you again, he becomes instantly distracted, halting the both of you again erratically like he did with all the shops earlier.

“Wait, wait! Wishing well!” he almost shrieks, forgetting that you’re not in the fuzz to rush him in the first place. You jog behind him, his steps jittery because it’s been awhile since he’s seen the Trevi Fountain.

Jungkook dodges past the tourists (it’s his tenth time here, he feels like he’s a better tourist than everyone) and gets right in front of the fountain, digging for the spare change he had in his pocket. He clasps his hands together tightly, screwing his eyes shut as he mumbled under his breath, finally throwing his coin.

In this light, Jungkook looks the most human you’ve ever seen him. He looks the most relatable and tangible version of himself that you’ve ever seen; his hands clasped praying his wish upon a coin, trusting whatever it is to luck.

Wishing, when it comes from Jungkook and people like him, is trivial. Wishing, when it comes to people to the likes of you, is hopeless.

Maybe you’ve long stopped wishing when your birthdays didn’t even have cakes and candles to wish upon, or when your pockets had no change at all to begin with. Wishes didn’t get you where you are now — your pain did. You don’t know what Jungkook could ever wish for with everything in his grasp, and perhaps that’s what makes you curious the most.

“What’d you wish for?”

Jungkook smiles faintly, a strength behind it that you can’t discern.

“To break up with you.”

Seokjin likes having you around — that much you can tell because when you left the fighting scene, so did he.

He does love having you around but it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t question your presence, especially when he thought all this time that he’d get this deluxe room all to himself but here you are, starfished in the middle of his bed that he just sprayed his sleeping mist on.

“By the way, why are you here?” he finally addresses you thirty minutes after you knocked on his room, hugged him, took bites of his dinner, showered, and passed out on his bed.

“Jungkook’s fucking his ex in our room.”

Seokjin hums in acknowledgement, not exactly surprised. He repeats your words in his head but halfway into it he backtracks, titling his head in confusion. “Our?” he laughs, perplexed by how you worded it. “It’s a suite alright, but the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms.”

“It still counts. That’s our room,” you huff, your frown visible even if you’re still face down on his sheets. “My boyfriend’s dicking down his ex right now.”

“Don’t get too carried away, Y/N,” Seokjin sing-songs, knowing by now that your wording isn’t just a fluke. “You still have that crush on him?”

“I do, fuck!” you enunciate in a sudden burst of frustration, hammering your legs down on the bed that makes Seokjin laugh because it looks you’re doing a half-assed worm. “Something must be very wrong with me.”

Seokjin hasn’t seen you this unsure and vulnerable for a long time.

Your friend chuckles, oblivious to how he’s worried for you because you genuinely think you’re going to sleep in this position.

“Mhmm. You’re right,” he jokingly agrees, using his surreal strength as your coach to flip you so you wouldn’t suffocate, flicking your forehead afterwards. “Something must be very wrong with you.”

Jungkook’s perfume irks you.

It’s too floral and too sweet and clearly does not belong to him, making you hold your breath for the brief second that he walks past you. It doesn’t smell like him and what’s worse is that you can practically taste the proof of Sumi in your mouth, reminding you that Jungkook did kick you out of your shared suite two nights ago and it wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.

“Jungkook, your engagements are all up,” Mrs. Jeon exclaims, tilting her head every now and then at her phone.

“Aren’t they always?” he chuckles dryly, awkwardly pinching his ear out of habit because he felt that you were too quiet.

“Well I mean yes, but all for the wrong reasons as you can tell lately,” she counters, a slight bite to her tone before she gets distracted again by yet another positive comment about her son. “But lately it’s good,” Mrs. Jeon hums. “All great, really. People love now that Y/N’s in the picture.”

“I don’t care what people say about me,” he murmurs, conveniently defending himself as soon as your name was mentioned. His mother raises an eyebrow, the both of them knowing that it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

“Okay maybe I do care a little.”

“What did they say?” you pipe up shyly, Jungkook jolting in his seat and gaining the sense to move a little so you could take a peek at his mother’s screen. Mrs. Jeon becomes even more energetic at your participation because she did notice that you’re uncharacteristically stiff, huddling closer to Jungkook so he’s squished between the two of you.

“That you’re perfect together,” she lists, putting her phone farther so you could read. “Wow, I never knew that MMA champion Y/N Y/L/N would end up with Jeon Jungkook of all people, but if they break up, I will be lining up at her door.”

Jungkook scoffs under his breath, unknown to himself if he’s scoffing because he isn’t the only one at the center of attention, or because people think that he’s just that disposable to you.

“An odd match at first really, but I bet Jungkook fell in love first! If you had Y/N as your bodyguard, who wouldn’t?”

“Next,” Jungkook grumbles.

“I hope Y/N knocks out Jungkook into next week-“

“Okay, okay, I get it! These people want you to stomp on me so badly,” he frowns, sparing a glance at you who has an amused smile on your face. This isn’t the first conversation you’ve had since his night with Sumi, but it’s the first interaction you had where you aren’t irked when he’s looking at you.

“I won’t do that,” you assure him, politely fetching the device Mrs. Jeon hands you, Jungkook perching over your shoulder this time. He still smells like her and unlike himself but you’ve learned to tune it out, pushing yourself to be indifferent.

“They’re sweet about it,” you mumble to no one in particular. “Do we look sweet to them?”

“Somehow we look sweet,” Jungkook answers, unconsciously scooting over to invade your space more to the point that his head’s almost bumping yours. “They’re freaking out about your hand on my back. Isn’t that what all bodyguards do?”

“I’m not only your bodyguard though,” you remind, voice lowering towards the end but quickly put it up before you get upset again. “But yeah, a little over the top. They’re screaming about us bumping shoulders but you don’t even hold my hand.”

Mrs. Jeon gets her reaction out even before her son could defend himself, eyes widening. “You don’t even hold Y/N’s hand?” “Hold it! Try it right now.”

She snatches Jungkook’s hand quickly, beckoning you for yours and entangles them together like you’re preschoolers being forced to make up after a fight, the whole abruptness of the situation making you choke silently.

There’s an awkward bout of silence between the two of you (three if you count Mrs. Jeon but she’s trying her best not to breathe so she’d blend into the background) that you can’t grasp, only being broken as soon as Jungkook says the first thing in his mind.

“Your hands are rough, ew,” his eyebrows furrow, late to register the look in your face that is so heartbreaking, it makes you recoil. “Get a manicure or something.”

You tug your hand away roughly as if you’re physically burnt to the touch, balling both of them into a fist and keeping them at your sides as small as you could, away from sight. Jungkook’s right, they are rough. You don’t have to open them to know that there’s callouses and faint marks of cuts and bruises on them.

They’re hard and beaten from work, not needing to look down on them again to know that perhaps in Jungkook’s life, your hand is the roughest he’s held. They’re not like Sumi’s and most certainly not like the hands of the people in his life — manicured, flawless, and graceful.

“Jungkook,” his mother hisses to scold him, belatedly realizing that you’re back to being quiet again from the single comment that left his lips.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Mrs. Jeon apologizes, throwing a venomous look to her own son at the side. “Did Jungkook give you a hard time in Rome? Any incidents?” she asks with kind eyes, lips enveloped because she can’t move past Jungkook’s dumb comment about your hands. “You can tell me whether it’s from a girlfriend perspective or a bodyguard perspective.”

Jungkook looks at you, eyes slightly ashamed, waiting to see if you’d tell his mother about him. If you’d rat him out for kicking you out of your shared suite so he could get laid by his ex-girlfriend; if you’d tell her about how he brought you along to buy condoms for the exact occasion.

But the thing is, you don’t. Just as rough as your hands are, you answer quickly and as sincerely as you could, excusing yourself right after.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Jeon. Jungkook didn’t give me any worries.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook knows to himself that he’s insufferable.

And for some odd reason unknown to him, you still stay with him despite being insufferable.

He knows when a job is a job with the way his previous bodyguards would hold him with an iron grip to weave through crowds that weren’t big in the first place. He knows when a task is a task with how as soon as his schedule for the day is finished, there won’t be a single inquiry or care allotted for his wellbeing.

He knows when people care for him just because they do.

Nobody forced you to jump in to ultimately defend him from getting knocked out on live television. Nobody forced you to take his parents’ offer of working for him, and most importantly, nobody forced you to stay.

You were dutiful to say the least, but for odd reasons unknown to him, you’re passionate even for the things that seemingly are just passing things in your life.

He’s pretty sure you caught onto him zoning out and staring at the side of your face, feeling your inquiring gaze turn to him to see if he needed you or not.

“Oh,” Jungkook snaps out of it, redirecting to make it seem that he’s thinking of something else entirely. “You’re not dressed up?”

“Do you want me to?” you return the question, looking outside the limousine to see if you’re close to the venue and if you had time to change in case Jungkook wanted you to.

“Nah, do what you want. I don’t really care about it,” Jungkook says a half-truth, realizing that his “save” gave him even more reason to think about you. “I was just curious about what you looked like when you aren’t wearing that.”

There were only three uniform options available — one’s a black polo shirt with tactical pants for when it was a casual outing (but Jungkook’s outings were barely casual), the other’s a button-up with trousers for when media’s expected, and the last is what you and Seokjin were wearing now; a well-fitted suit for high-class events wherein you had to accompany Jungkook and need to escort him closely regardless of the audience.

“Why are you dressed like a bodyguard anyways? Aren’t we making an appearance together?”

You resist the urge to smile, an odd reversal of roles because it’s Jungkook who recognizes now that you’re his (fake) girlfriend and not only his bodyguard.

“I still need to show that I’m serious about my job.”

“When are you not ever serious about your job?” he questions seriously, brows furrowed because he genuinely can’t recall any instance where you didn’t put him first.

“Your safety’s still my number one priority,” you answer truthfully, hearing the emerging chatter now that you were getting close to the drop-off. Your eyes inconveniently follow one of Jungkook’s numerous exes who wears an elegant designer dress, one that you wish you could wear in your lifetime. You snap out of it soon enough. “My holster would be visible if I wear a dress.”

“That’s kinda hot,” he snorts, “Do you still want to dress up? Regardless if people cared about your holster showing?”

“Maybe,” you hum. “If I dressed up though, that means I’d walk beside you.”

It’s a nice vision to think of, something you don’t even know would come to actuality if the time comes.

“Do you want that? Me walking beside you?”

“You always walk beside me,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, a giggle leaving him heartily.

“Have you ever learned how to read between the lines?” you return the playful attitude, clearing your throat. “I mean, do you want me to walk beside you as your girlfriend in a pretty dress?”

“Honestly?” he repeats, fixing his suit. “No. I don’t think so.” (Read: even if the circumstances were different, I don’t think it’s worth having you around me.)

You’ve only ever walked beside Jungkook in your uniform, as a bodyguard. Not a girlfriend.

You’re too busy and you still haven’t gotten a manicure. They’re still riddled with callouses from sparring with Seokjin to keep both of your skills and physique in check.

All you know is how to fight and to protect. You know how to love, that much you know, but you don’t know if Jungkook knows how to accept love if it’s coming from you.

“Come on, having me as your girlfriend isn’t that bad, right?”

You ask thickly, head tilting as if it would help gauging the answer out of Jungkook better. You don’t have to adjust your head though; with the way he gives you a pitiful half-smile, you already know.

You wince inwardly, masking the lump in your throat as a laugh.

“It is?”

“A little,” Jungkook relents, finding the will in him to joke around with you. “Don’t get angry with me. Don’t headlock me like you did with Son at that 2019 fight.”

“You know that fight?” you answer with a chuckle, the random detail catching you off-guard.

“Duh. Everyone and their mother knows about that fight. A knockout on the second round? Jeez.”

Jungkook sounds the most attainable right now despite being worlds apart, the physical boundary between the two of you apparent. He sounds warm, just as domestic as a boyfriend in a car ride who knows random things about you.

“Having me as your girlfriend isn’t that bad if you know these things about me.”

“Your fights are public knowledge.”

“Then what’s so bad about me being your girlfriend?” you question, tucking your lips together to not let out any whimper in case he knocks you off-guard again.

“You’re too strong but you’re just so sensitive, if that makes sense. Too committed. You don’t have an off switch. You’re just so you,” Jungkook blurts out, careful of his words but at the same time frantic to say them outloud because he never thought you’d ask him this. “You just don’t know when to give up.”

It’s like Jungkook knows every insecurity you’ve ever had from the way he said it.

“Okay,” you meekly answer, the resignment in your voice lying underneath but the tiny bit of hope sinks it further. “If I wasn’t your bodyguard, would you still date me?”

“Fake date,” Jungkook corrects, chuckling because you always seem to forget the word that defines your status. “No. I don’t think I’d date you.”

Jungkook moves far on too quickly with his words that you’re unable to process the momentary heartbreak that comes along with his admission, blinking away the inevitable shock.

“How about me? If you weren’t my bodyguard, would you agree to fake date me?”

“Yeah,” you answer without a doubt, the careless shrug that tops it just cementing that there’s no thought needed. You answer just when the car nears to a stop, making Jungkook halt before the driver even hits the brakes. “I’d date you.”

The numbness starts from your hands, moving into autopilot as you meet Seokjin and the rest when Jungkook comes down. The impromptu intimate conversation should be the last thing in your mind — it shouldn’t matter to you when it doesn’t to Jungkook.

Everyone’s lively as you tail him until he gets to his assigned seat, stopping instantly when he sees the giant centerpiece of a fountain in the garden.

“Coins! Give me coins, please,” Jungkook urges you, either oblivious or uncaring to the sudden weight in your steps from his words.

“Don’t you have your wallet with you?”

“I do, but I don’t carry coins.”

You sigh in defeat, fishing out your wallet from your pocket where you keep some loose change.

In the same manner of his first wish, Jungkook screws his eyes shut and clenches his fists together, whispering to his hands before he gracefully throws the coin to the illuminated water.

“What was your wish?” you silently ask just like the first time, either oblivious or uncaring to how his answer would sting like it did in Rome.

“For my parents to dissolve this stupid contract with you.”

The party’s over and you take it upon yourself to voluntarily get out of your shared suite with Jungkook and crash in Seokjin’s room instead.

Seokjin can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at you, admitting to himself that he misses you especially with the knowledge that the two of you might have drifted a little since taking up your new jobs because of conflicting schedules.

The two of you no longer suffer together, already at a place in life where you don’t need to scramble in literally looking for a fight. He’s a mirror of you, if not more confrontational. He would’ve already asked you why you’re lingering around him more and less around Jungkook nowadays if only you didn’t look like a kicked puppy most of the time.

Seokjin shuts his mouth this time, letting you start the conversation this time around. It comes soon enough when the movie you were so engrossed in didn’t make sense in your mind anymore, a pressing question filling it instead.

“Do you regret being my handler?”

“Don’t ask me stupid questions,” Seokjin snaps instantly at the absurdity of you even asking him that, mumbling an apology later. “Of course not.”

He’s in disbelief with the way his eyebrows knit in the middle, a tension placed on his shoulders that even you can’t joke your way out of. He mutes the TV then and there, Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde no longer interesting him.

“Why did you follow me into this?” you ask in a small voice, wanting to sink to the floor because with the volume muted, Seokjin’s entire attention is on you.

“You liked the fighting scene. You loved coaching me,” you list down, going through all of your fond memories of practically growing up with him. “And now here we are. Bodyguards to a nepo baby.”

“We’re being paid higher here,” Seokjin shrugs carelessly, a giggle following his answer at the thought that he’s in the position to say that now. “I followed you here because we’re just as close as family,” he says it so easily that you have a hard time grasping it, an utter truth to it so he doesn’t stutter. “Where you go, I go.”

“Do you think I had a disgraceful exit?” you ask again, oblivious how your questions are snowballing more and more. “Saved Jungkook just one time out of instinct and I felt like that whole ordeal made more noise for me than my whole career did.”

Your voice trembles and you find it stupid why you’re suddenly getting emotional now, the weight of everything changing quickly in your life starting to hit. “Is it embarrassing? What I did and where I am now — is it embarrassing?”

“No. What you did and where you are now is just you,” he offers, sincerely. Even he doesn’t know why you jumped in to protect Jungkook either, but what he does know is that you would’ve done it for anyone else. “Do you wish you never left?”

“I don’t know either,” you sniffle, a cough leaving you pathetically and it makes you snuggle into Jin’s arm more. “I miss fighting now that I left it,” you admit. If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could imagine how much adrenaline you felt throughout your career.

“But my whole career of it, my whole life revolving around it,” you stress, admitting a truth that’s only been mere assumptions in your head for the longest time. “It’s been doing my head in even before Jungkook’s parents made me the offer.”

Seokjin listens — he always does. He does it in the way you want him to. You’ve confessed to him years ago that you think of him as a brother and that you wouldn’t fight if not for him, and he listened to you while wearing full gear during sparring because you didn’t want to be embarrassed. Months ago, you told him that you have a crush on Jungkook and you told him that through the bathroom door while he was showering so the water would drown your voice out. Some things are more stupid than the others but Seokjin does it and listens anyway — simply because you ask him to.

This time, Seokjin listens to you while he plays with your hair.

“I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about taking the offer, but I wasn’t fully sure either that I wanted to keep fighting. That’s why I accepted,” you murmur. “I said that I would leave fighting the moment it felt like a chore.”

“I remember you saying that,” he seconds, a brief chuckle leaving his lips. “How about Jungkook? Does he feel like a chore?”

“He doesn’t,” you admit whole-heartedly. “But he hates me, I think.”

“You still have that crush on him?”

“Still have the same, stupid, pathetic crush on Jungkook, unfortunately.”

You and Seokjin share a laugh, one that sounded like squeaking and choking at the same time when harmonized together. You’ve had a shit day and he’s already taken it upon himself to share the fatigue of it with you, unable to have it any other way.

Your happiness is cut short when there’s urgent knocks rapping on the door, too frantic that your heart would’ve leapt out of your ass if you didn’t hear the accompanying voice. “Jin! It’s me!”

Seokjin sighs in relief, clutching at his chest to hear that it’s only Jungkook. You sink to his sheets when he asks with his gaze if you want to be the one who answers the door, but he’s met with your head shaking no insistently.

“Did you see Y/N?” Jungkook asks as soon as Seokjin answers him, dripping wet after his bath and even in his bathrobe still. You told him you were just going to check out the snacks downstairs but an hour later after his bath (he managed to finish a documentary about cats), you still weren’t back.

“Why?” Seokjin feigns cluelessness, tilting his head at Jungkook’s nature of looking for you.

“She’s not in our suite. Is she there?” he sputters because he’s starting to think that maybe even Seokjin doesn’t know, meaning that nobody at all knows where you went.

Seokjin stands still for a minute, making Jungkook think that this is just a glitch in his brain and he’s still watching the documentary awhile ago where Seokjin’s the cat butler in this elite pet hotel.

“Uhm, no — wait, yeah,” Seokjin giggles breathlessly, snapping out of his trance. “She’s crashing here.”

“Oh,” Jungkook zones out. That explains it.

He’s unsure if you’ve ever gotten the snacks downstairs because if you did, you would’ve got some for him like you always did. He knows when a job is a job and he knows when people care for him — a bodyguard and a (fake) girlfriend like you wouldn’t have forgotten to get him snacks, right?

He tries to snap out of it too, trying not to think why you couldn’t have just told him that you didn’t want to sleep in the same suite; he didn’t even have anyone over. Jungkook swallows the disappointment, both for you and himself.

“Good. I thought she was kidnapped or something. Tell her to leave a note next time.“

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s soft.

He’s soft, maybe even despicable. Despite the hard-shelled and slightly bratty exterior, Jungkook’s more vulnerable than he paints himself out to be.

He’s soft in the sense that he would’ve taken a rose from a random woman’s hand in the street if not for you telling him that it’s 100% a scam, that he’d be hounded for money as soon as he accepts the flower. Jungkook was in shock at that when you explained the scheme to him, simply in the belief that love was just all around and people would randomly give out roses in the name of it.

Jungkook’s soft in the sense that when walking, he switches the two of you so he could be the one closest to the road instead of you. It’s warm and sweet for a second, until you remind him that you’re his bodyguard and you’re supposed to be there in the first place, and for him to never do that again.

He’s soft, from the way he scrolls through fundraisers to generously donate to and all the way down to silently and “accidentally” putting his snacks in your pockets when you aren’t looking.

Sometimes though, Jungkook’s definition of soft is weakness.

He’s weak to the point that Jungkook can’t even think straight because just a few words of flattery and he’s already weak in the knees. Jungkook’s weak as much as he’s emotional and irrational. He’s impulsive and ditzy and selfish, especially selfish with the way you’re prompted to intervene.

For the two minutes you’ve left his side, you come back to Jungkook kissing the daughter of his father’s rival, in a gala no less where literally everyone is watching. It’s stupid, beyond idiotic even for words that you drag Jungkook out into the garden where there’s no one watching, cutting his appearance in the function much earlier than intended.

Jungkook’s so weak. He’s laughable because it’s the one thing that’s unspoken yet beyond obvious — to never fraternize with rivals especially those of his parents’. It’s so, so stupid that you’re trembling with anger, just one stupid question away from speaking your mind.

“The fuck was that for?” he seethes, looking at you up and down with disgust in his face. Never did you use such great of a force on him, but for you to pry him by the arm in front of everyone embarrasses him to his core.

“Do you fucking know who you’re kissing?” you snap without missing a beat, just as irritated as he is but the difference is that he doesn’t have the right to be. “That’s Choi Haeri! Choi as in Choi Group Of Companies, your dad’s rival company!”

Jungkook scoffs, narrowing his eyes. He keeps dusting away the sleeve that you held onto as if you’ve contaminated it, rolling his eyes with disdain. “Okay? And I knew that, what the hell are you so pressed for?”

“I’m pressed because anybody could’ve seen you and you will be done for,” you grit, an accusing finger pointed at him. “You’re my boyfriend in public, Jungkook! Stop kissing other people!”

“You have a stick up your ass!” Jungkook spits, straying further and further away from reason. “No one in this room buys our act because they know I wouldn’t date you!”

Jungkook doesn’t immediately get a response back.

You only stand in front of him, unmoving and silent. The longer you look at him, the more his anger simmers and the more his regret seeps in. He doesn’t even know why he’s angry at you.

His throat tightens because this was the part where you say something equally as vulgar if not more demeaning, but it wasn’t happening. That part hasn’t even happened before. No, this was the part where you’re angry at him for good reason because you’re doing your job, and Jungkook responds to your reaction by telling you to go fuck yourself.

“I’m-…” he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence because you’re already interrupting him, pulling your phone out to dial the driver.

“We’re going home.”

“I don’t-…”

“That wasn’t a question,” you cut him off. “You’ve had enough to drink, you’re causing a scene, you’re endangering yourself. You’re leaving now.”

You pull Jungkook by the arm yet again with a force that’s not up for debate, trying to fight it with no avail until he lets himself be dragged along. It’s a long walk to where the pickup point is but you endure it, even when you’re still filled with so much anger and dismay.

He doesn’t make it better because as much as he lets himself be dragged along, he uses his other hand to fish out a coin from his pocket because he’s been carrying them lately, throwing it to the fountain that he sees on the way out. Jungkook proves yet again that he is weak, because he doesn’t even know why he does that.

You don’t even ask but Jungkook already explains with a sharp glint to his gaze, either to spite you or cowardly defend himself from your anger. But either way, the satisfaction after he explains his wish doesn’t ever come.

“For you to unclench.”

( ♡ )

It’s another trip outside the country when you find yourself in Seokjin’s room again.

“Confession time,” you hiccup, dehydrated after a full day of accompanying Jungkook with his shopping. “I don’t think it’s worth it liking Jungkook anymore.”

Even if you’ve said it out in the open, the concept itself sounds shaky. It’s either an impulsive lie or a hesitant truth, but either way, you know that you don’t like Jungkook as much as you did before.

“He told me to unclench.”

“You don’t seem like a butt clencher to me,” Seokjin furrows his brows, looking up from his phone now that you got his attention fully. “Stand up for me,” and you comply, turning around to indulge his playfulness. “Nope. Not a butt clencher at all.”

An attempt has been made to lighten up your mood and it’s working surprisingly, making you snort because somehow, Seokjin knows just how much you could take in the times you feel low.

You feel particularly clingy today, the proof of it being you trying to squeeze yourself in to the one-person chair that your friend’s occupying.

“This is fruitless,” you exasperatedly sigh, making Seokjin eagerly agree because the two of you are gonna break the chair until he realizes your minds are at two different places. “Liking rich, unattainable, disconnected-from-reality people is fruitless.”

“Hey, you’re rich. We’re also rich.”

“We got rich because we worked for it,” you correct him, acknowledging that although not Jeon family level of rich, you’ve come a long way. “Blood, sweat, tears, fractures, stitches-…“

“MRI scans. Don’t forget MRI scans.”

“Yes, thank you, MRI scans too. Jungkook’s old money and even though I’m slightly above average and closer to him, it means nothing!” you whine, finally giving up on fighting dominance for the chair and instead sitting on the carpet.

“Well is Jungkook’s social status the only thing stopping him from liking you back?” Seokjin inquires, the aforementioned surely one of the reasons but not the core of it.

“Oh no, far from it,” you snort, looking up at the pendant light above you and listing the numerous times you felt that you’re Jungkook’s actual girlfriend, and the other times you felt that you’re just a bodyguard that’s a thorn on his side. “I could also count the fact that Jungkook hates me to the core.”

“Does he feel like a job?” Seokjin hums, getting you to look at him. “Is it starting to feel like a chore being around him?”

Truth be told, you’ll rue the day that Jungkook feels like a chore to you. Whether it’s an impulsive lie or a hesitant truth, you believe Jungkook when he said that you just don’t know when to give up; both your greatest feature and flaw.

“A little.”

“Ah, that’s it then,” Seokjin somberly smiles, uttering the words he thinks you need. “You’re outgrowing him. You’ll forget that you even liked him soon enough.”

You don’t even know if you want to outgrow Jungkook.

“Spar?” you pipe in after a loaded silence to take the weight off of it, dying to have your mind somewhere else other than him.

“M’kay,” Seokjin agrees because he doesn’t have anything better to do either, standing up to fetch your gloves in his duffel.

“No, not in this room nor the gym,” you whine, a frown making its way to your lips. “In an actual ring, please? Don’t you have a buddy here that owns one?”

You look too soft, too fragile to even deny. It’s just a little thing to call around his friend in the area so Seokjin will do just that, as long as it means he can have the seemingly-permanent fatigue in your heart lighten.

“Okay, we can do that.”

Seokjin sees the way that you hang out with him more often, conveniently in the times that you’re upset with Jungkook. Each time you see him, the impromptu bonding ends with you begging him to train you.

The last time, it was you and him rewatching your old plays. Today, it’s sparring. Soon enough, you’ll ask more and more from Seokjin until it’s the actual fighting that you crave for.

It’s ironic that it was your fighting that landed you with Jungkook — and maybe, just maybe, it’s also the fighting that’ll take you away from him.

“There’s a pattern happening here though,” he calls you out for it, making you pause in your tracks. Seokjin sees right through you; on how you’re so frustrated with yourself as a product of being involved with Jungkook, that you’re slowly reverting back to the person you were before him. “Don’t think that I don’t see it.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s grandmother has a farm.

It’s massive, sprawling for hectares and even if the first few of the hundred are utilized for housing and hosting, it already tells you that Jungkook was ready for retirement the moment he was born.

You and Seokjin, along with the entirety of the staff, were invited by Mr. and Mrs. Jeon for a get-together. There’s no particular occasion but it already accounts catering and decoration into the details. There’s no grand gesture for it all, just the Jeon family and their employees in their bosses’ massive farm to celebrate togetherness for the sake of it.

None of you are in your uniforms, all free to dress. Everyone looks different to say the least, most of you seeing each other in your clothes of choice for the first time given your nature of work.

Jungkook’s eyes flit to you. He’s only seen you a couple of times in your pajamas, but this was different. A tank top that showed more skin compared to your uniforms (where practicality was the number one priority), and on top of it, a bright, bubbly cardigan that was the exact opposite of your black attires. It’s different. A lot more different than what he’s used to seeing. He doesn’t know how to explain it but you look more like yourself than he’s ever seen you, despite barely knowing you deeper in a superficial sense.

It’s been peaceful between you and Jungkook since his kiss with Haeri. You unclenched as per his wish, still fulfilling both of your jobs but without the strictness he was used to. You still cared, that much Jungkook knew and was grateful for, making a conscious effort to stop being irrational and pissing you off in the process.

It’s peaceful in the definition that there hasn’t been conflicts between the two of you, or there has been yet neither of you wanted to dwell on it in an effort to adjust for each other.

It’s peaceful but it was different; something changed between the two of you and Jungkook can’t discern what it is. He’s used his brain the most he ever did in his life yet he thinks understanding the shift in your dynamic doesn’t need logic — perhaps it’s heart.

Jungkook may be a little stupid, but he is stupidly committed when his mind’s set to it.

“Where’s the dirtbikes again, grandma? I wanna go to the creek,” he asks all of a sudden with a pitchy voice, praying inwardly that it’s not obvious that he planned a script for this to go about. It was a random thing to say, especially when you, his mom, and his grandmother were just talking about sheep in a secluded area.

For him to march all the way to where you are, asking about a dirtbike he most certainly knew where it was kept, makes his mother’s eyebrows raise.

“Just behind the stables, Kook. Also, you don’t know how to ride a bike,” his grandma answers, narrowing her eyes at her grandson who wants to ride all of a sudden.

It’s like he wanted you to hear (read: he wanted and needed you to), predicted by his mom who knows that not once has he ever shown interest in riding all the way to the creek by himself, much more on a dirtbike he can’t even operate.

“You don’t know how to ride a bike?” your eyes bulge, the question slipping past your lips in amusement. It’s too late for you to retract it, unintentionally making his mom and grandma laugh.

“Nope. Not at all. His parents tried teaching him, his grandpa and I took turns trying to teach him, his maids tried, everyone tried. Jungkook does not know how to ride a bike at all.”

“Okay, grandma. Thank you. I think everyone in the country has heard you now,” Jungkook mutters, knowing he signed himself up for a snide comment or two when he planned this, but he didn’t know he would feel this embarrassed.

His grandmother is all the more clueless but his mom quickly catches on, something at the back of her neck telling her that Jungkook needed you now.

“Y/N can take you there! Right, dearie? Seokjin told me you could drive anything,” Mrs. Jeon asks you sweetly, your eyes slightly widening at the sudden suggestion.

Jungkook’s mother looks at him with that look and he didn’t know how she caught on so quickly but he thanks her silently with the same gaze, trying to look indifferent for your impending answer.

“No problem, Mrs. Jeon,” you politely answer, wonder overtaking you because you don’t know what compelled you to agree. (Read: it’s because Jungkook indirectly asked you and if it’s him, you’d drop everything for him 7 out of 10 times.)

“You’re not on the clock,” Jungkook offers weakly, not having expected for you to agree in the first place. In fact, he didn’t even expect you to be civil with him at all since telling you that you have a stick up your ass — god, he really was the worst.

“I know,” you shrug, a gentle smile on your face. You lift your head for him to lift the way and he does, springing into action by walking beside you with his hands tucked in his pocket. “I just want to take you there.”

This is the first time you’ve ever been with Jungkook outside the context of work and he’s different. Not different in the physical sense because he still bears the visage and the aura of someone obscenely rich, definitely not that. He’s different in the sense that he’s more reserved; as if he’s walking with his feet for the first time and he has to take everything in around him in silence.

Additionally, this is the first time you don’t know which version of Jungkook you like the most now that you’ve seen him like this.

You like the prissy, talkative, slightly ditzy Jungkook of yesterday, one that apologized to you with words and talked your ear off with his own stories out of guilt. But now that you see him, you also like the quiet, subdued, and observant Jungkook of today, one that apologizes to you with his eyes and indirectly asks you to be alone with him.

You get on the dirtbike first, gathering your bearings before asking Jungkook to climb his seat.

He should be scared shitless right now because despite being an enthusiast for racing and vehicles in general, anything on two wheels feel like death traps to him. Jungkook should be scared and yet he isn’t, not when you’re in front of him; not when he’s so close to you that he can smell your hair and practically feel how soft your cardigan is.

“You can hold my waist,” you offer as you help him secure his helmet on, earning a playful scoff you haven’t heard in a while.

“Don’t want to.”

“I hope you fall off then.”

“What?” he asks with confusion in his tone but it later transitions into a shriek when you just up and rev, the playfulness of your response not really reaching his brain because he’s too busy holding onto your waist in a hurry.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me fall off on purpose,” he mutters as soon as he adjusts, taking his hands off your waist.

“I’m not doing shit,” you quip, threatening to increase the speed but it falls on deaf ears because once again, Jungkook got distracted by your change of attitude.

“Why are you being short with me?” he frowns in confusion, finally figuring out that hopefully it’s just the safety issue. “Will this make you less snappy with me?” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist again, gently bumping his helmet with yours intentionally.

You and Jungkook were complicated, but atleast when he wraps his arms around you and head bumps you with his helmet, things don’t feel as difficult.

“No comment?” Jungkook provokes harmlessly, making you nod hastily because you didn’t know that mere arms around your waist, Jungkook’s specifically, would make you want to light yourself up on a good note.

It stays like that for awhile. For the few minutes you have with Jungkook while the sun starts to set, you and Jungkook can act like you’ve always been this way; happy, warm, and committed.

“It’s right there. You could stop here,” Jungkook squeezes you by the sides, pointing to the creek he’s been talking about all this time.

“Hmm. Still pretty,” he comments to no one in particular besides the actual creek itself but it still makes you look up, taking off your helmet and turning off the engine. The creek doesn’t look anything special. Simply put, it’s just a creek. It’s strikingly mundane but for some reason, Jungkook speaks of it like it’s heaven on earth.

That’s the thing about Jungkook — through and through, you can’t read him and neither can he.

Jungkook digs into his pocket, throwing a coin to the shallow water that looks majestically clear. He closes his eyes and clasps his hands together, whispering to his entwined digits. “For you to stop following me around like a dog.”

The thing about Jungkook is that he’s a little empty; a little empty to not accurately predict when the perfect time is for a joke, a little empty to have never gauged the concept of being sensitive at all times for anyone’s sake that wasn’t his. A little empty that to make up for what he lacks, he’s extremely selfish.

“You don’t mean that,” you laugh humorlessly in disbelief, shaking your head because of course, as soon as you think Jungkook is completely fine the way he is, he goes ahead and make a wish that pushes you away.

“Do you really hate me that much? Be honest,” you add, the edge to your voice being something you find hard to control. “Because if you do hate me, then just say that.”

Jungkook blinks rapidly, proving to you that he’s slower than usual and is only now realizing that he’s said the wrong thing. Again.

“If you hate me, then don’t look for me when I’m not in our suite. If you hate me so much, stop walking behind me even if you’re with dozens of bodyguards in events,” you grit despite the lump in your throat. “Do you hate me so, so much that you can’t just say it to my face? Because I can say it to your face right now that I like you.”

And Jungkook freezes. He feels the dumbest he’s ever felt in his life.

“I like you but right now I fucking hate you,” you seethe, closing the gap between you and Jungkook to point at him. “I’m a dog? I follow you like a dog? Well guess what, I need to follow you like one because of this stupid-“

If it’s any proof that Jungkook can become even more empty, there’s barely any words from you that register in his head besides you liking him.

“You don’t hate me.”

Jungkook declares with certainty and it makes you quiver — because as much as you can’t read Jungkook, he can read you.

Your anger dissipates but there’s still tension in there, eyes locked with Jungkook in either a fit of stupidity or dumb courage.

“What do your lips taste like?”

Jungkook wonders out loud and there’s not one inch of a filter left in him, looking at you intensely to the point that he’s almost getting cross-eyed. You’re close, so close that Jungkook could inhale and you’d get attached to him. So he does it — he does what he’s an expert at and it’s to do without thinking; to act while empty.

Jungkook kisses you.

Jungkook kisses you as if he loves you, like it’s his first time hearing what it means and it’s his eager attempt to prove himself. He kisses you deeper with his hands holding you in place, as if you even thought about fleeing in his profession of love.

You and Jungkook were complicated, but atleast when he kisses you like he means it and tastes you so desperately that he wants to pass out, things don’t feel as difficult. Happy, warm, and committed.

But through and through, Jungkook is himself. It lasts like that for awhile until he comes to his senses, a little panicked that he really is kissing you, putting his hands on your shoulders to gently push you away.

You try to regain your breath and make sense of what happened while he walks away from you, sitting by the creek as he avoids your eyes.

You feel embarrassed, carrying way more shame than you ever felt is possible to bear. You don’t look at Jungkook either, preoccupying yourself by trying to focus on everything but him.

You get your phone out to call for Seokjin to accompany Jungkook instead when he chooses to go back because you don’t see yourself surviving the ride back with him, waiting for his reply so you can ride back alone with the excuse that you wanted to go to the bathroom.

The two of you neither look nor talk to each other but you could hear the sound of a light dip and splash. Jungkook’s empty, too selfish and too stupid, making his fifth wish in the creek with a mumble underneath his breath; oblivious to how you’re still within earshot.

“For us to never see each other again.”

( ♡ )

You know you have Seokjin — you just don’t know if you’ll still have him despite this.

He never liked riddles but the silence you give him already gave him his answers, your stay in his room tonight feeling different than every visit before.

“Seokjin?” you pipe from your corner of the room, sticking yourself to his chair you never even occupied. You occupy it now because maybe it’s the last time you’ll see it, a far too large bean bag that resembled a dog bed and didn’t fit the aesthetic of the room at all; maybe even miss it despite being the one item in his room that was misplaced and lacked attention.

“Hm?” he looks up from his phone he scrolled up and down for the past twenty minutes you’ve been here, far too tense to actually be absorbed in anything but what you’re about to stay.

“I get it,” you clear your throat, avoiding eye contact for the things that matter because it’s what you do best. “I’d get it if you want to stay.”

In your haste of listlessness for the past year, from your exit from the octagon to being a spontaneous bodyguard and then a contract girlfriend, you realize that Seokjin’s been with you through it all. That in your pursuit of what you think is best for you, you’ve been selfish not to think about what he wants to do separate from you.

“Less work, more pay. The environment’s not that toxic,” you chuckle, knowing that a few out-of-touch remarks here and there are lightyears away from the actual dirt you’d get thrown to your face in the fighting scene. “I just want to let you know, okay? I don’t want to leave you in the dark.”

Seokjin’s the most stable figure you’ve ever had in your life — you shouldn’t be selfish to drag him along if this is your new low. “I already have my letter of resignation. I’m handing it tomorrow.”

“I’m not trying anything with you by saying this,” you hurriedly explain, not wanting to make him think that this was a ploy to get his pity and do the opposite of what you’re saying. “Just wanted to say goodbye if this is the last time.”

Seokjin saw this coming.

The thing about you is that much like Jungkook, you’re oblivious to how there are people who would follow you to the ends of the earth to support you. You’re no old money baby, you don’t have millions of supporters ready to fight for you at your disposal.

But you have him. You’re so selfless, you don’t even know that Seokjin would be willing to orbit you until forever.

“Open the laptop.”

“What?”

Seokjin snorts humorlessly when you squint to his answer at you practically spilling your guts out, rolling off his bed to push the laptop at the desk beside you.

“Just open the laptop. You already know the password,” he waves you off, sitting at the carpet beside you. You’re not drunk yet you’ve sobered instantly, eyes already watering for reasons you don’t even know.

“Jin?”

“Open.”

The thing about Seokjin is that he knew when to protect you and knew when to let you take a hit, his compass never failing either of you since. He would literally carry you on his back when you fall but he’d throw you back into the ring when it comes to it, all to prove a point to you that nobody stands without crawling.

And this time, Seokjin knows to protect you.

You open his laptop and the first thing you see is a finished word file, one that was eerily similar to yours and even carried the same date.

“See? Already finished my letter too. Just need to print it,” he smiles like usual, skimming his resignation letter when he noticed your eyes darting around.

“But why?” you whisper. “Why are you leaving too?”

“There’s no point in staying,” Seokjin shrugs, the most honest truth he’s ever said. “Wherever there’s you, Y/N. I’ll follow.”

Through and through, you’ll have Seokjin no matter what. It’s an overwhelming feeling of warmth that fills you, patching up the massive gaps in your life you almost forget even existed.

It’s a burst of pride that fills Seokjin because he’s able to say that now, the realization that he had the opportunity to grow with his platonic soulmate and land somewhere and not just anywhere making him more emotional than necessary. “You’re family now.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so selfish,” you mumble over and over again when you embrace him, face buried to his chest. It’s a cry you’ve suppressed for so long that even you can’t believe the sounds that come out of you endlessly, weakly fisting his shirt to ground yourself.

You feel small; so, so incredibly small and pathetic. You’re perhaps the stupidest person you know because you’ve ran for so long only to stop disgracefully, suddenly being displaced. What you do with all your hurt is compress it into a tight box, stacking and stacking until you realize your pain’s never been compressed in the first place — you’ve just been building a puzzle out of it for the sake of calling yourself resilient.

“You’re not selfish,” Seokjin mutters, repeating it again and again until you hear him through your cries. “You’re the most selfless person I know. Besides myself of course,” he jokes, but it’s you who would know that he isn’t lying at all.

“Besides, I also want to leave too. I miss coaching. I miss the fighting,” he assures you, trying to get it through your head that there’s purpose to his intent. “The most action I get is pushing people out of the way when there’s crowds.”

“Jungkook and I kissed,” you admit as you’re still hugging him, not wanting to break away yet because that would mean you have to make eye contact. “When we were at the creek, he asked me what my lips tasted like so I kissed him-“

“TMI.”

Seokjin groans but still listens anyway.

“Then he just pushed me away. I-I don’t know why, when you drove him back and he saw me, he told me to pretend it never happened.”

“We went to the farm a week ago,” Seokjin reminds you the passage of time, shocking you for a moment because it meant that you’ve been moping for a week straight.

“Mhmm.”

“Have the two of you been talking?”

“No,” you chuckle genuinely this time, either out of doom or gratefulness, you can’t tell. “Not at all.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook feels every bit of the one-dimensional and empty person that he’s argued out to be. He’s royally fucked up so to speak, the guilt of pushing you away after being the one to kiss in you in the first place keeping him up at night.

It consumes him excruciatingly slow, as if fate wanted it that way because it’s preparing him for a pain that’s heavier than the one he has now.

Worst part is that he hasn’t apologized to you yet.

His urge to apologize is bigger than life itself but the problem was that he can’t think of one that you deserve, only a mindless string of words coming into mind because he’s said them to you numerous times before. He wants to show you just how sorry he is but he can’t either, too consumed by the possibility that nothing would ever suffice.

You haven’t been walking beside him lately and he can’t even blame you. For every appearance he does nowadays, you’ve asked another bodyguard to tag along to be his main one, with you remaining only in the sidelines to keep appearances yet maintain your distance away from him.

Jungkook feels uneasy.

He’s no stranger to your silence and distance yet this bout in time speaks for itself, something about your outright refusal to be even an arm’s reach away from him making him think that it’s a prelude to something far more painful.

He loathes himself for driving you away; for wanting you and always backing out at the last minute because you don’t deserve him — you deserve much better.

Jungkook cares, of course he fucking cares. He takes everything to heart and in that same vein, he wouldn’t know who nor what he is without his family name. With or without his affluence, he’s just painfully him. Jeon Jungkook who does not know who or what to be in life.

He’s stupid, he’s a hundred percent sure of that. Even if his latin honor in a degree he doesn’t even care about nor remember says otherwise, Jungkook thinks he still is. He’s listless and so devoid of what he cares for in life, he can’t even discern shit not unless it’s handed to him.

Until you.

Jungkook doesn’t think he’s built for love. He does not think that he’s built to care for anyone outside of himself and his family and the very few in his closest circle. He has a good life, so much of a good life that the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks that he’s not deserving of the love he’s readily handed with.

Love is for parents to their children and care is for children to their friends. Love and care are exclusive to only the people you know and would trade your lives for because you’re bound by the same and same circumstances you were predetermined for.

Love and care shouldn’t be easily handed out; it shouldn’t be as easy as you taking a hit in behalf of Jungkook because you wanted to protect him despite not knowing him at all.

If only things were different, Jungkook would’ve been decked on live television for a reason that even he understands. But things weren’t different — fate put you in the way, literally in the way.

Jungkook used to believe that love is for the weak. Love is for the weak because it’s based on a faulty premise of caring for others despite the presence and threats of fallacies.

In the middle of the mall he begged you to go with him without another bodyguard present, there lies a huge water fountain. He only stands from a distance yet he knows the familiar stance, seeing you throw a coin with the most dejected look in your face.

“What’s that for?” Jungkook asks, eyes desperately looking for yours.

“For all your wishes to come true.”

When you say it like that — when you put him above yourself again to wish for all his desires to come true, he realizes that he is what makes love weak.

Jungkook doesn’t even know if he’s deserving of your love.

( ♡ )

It wasn’t easy tendering Mr. and Mrs. Jeon your letter of resignation.

Mr. Jeon was in utter shock, not only losing an exemplary employee but also a dear friend he could consider as a daughter figure. You would indulge him in his rants about flowers and random facts, actually conversing with him instead of giving half-hearted hums and answers.

Mrs. Jeon was in denial, breathlessly chuckling as she rereads your letter again a few more times. She bestowed her trust and gratefulness for you the moment she saw you, and seeing you hand this in now, she can’t help but think it’s her fault for everything.

Truth be told, you didn’t even expect for the two of them to feel this way towards your resignation. You thought the default expression was for employers to be disappointed and acknowledge your letter, not so much hesitating in kicking you out after the two-week notice ends. But this was different — Mr. and Mrs. Jeon do care.

After a few tears and conversations, you’ve pleaded to them to not let Jungkook know about your resignation nor Seokjin’s. It wasn’t too much to ask for (you think) yet Mr. and Mrs. Jeon agree despite their uneasy smiles, now under the assumption that your resignation has everything to do with their son who caused you trouble and more.

Jungkook feels the same pain of unease, feeling like there’s been a shift of the way people move around him lately. He doesn’t see much of you nor Seokjin anywhere in the residence or even at his parents’.

For some reason, you’ve been coming home dead late into the night, not coming home at one instance until 2 in the morning. He knows because he keeps track, unconsciously having trained himself to know your footsteps from the time you’ve been with him.

It’s foreboding guilt that bites him first and loathing that chews him later on. He feels restless sitting by his door waiting for you to come home and at times when it’s just too late in the evening, Jungkook situates himself on the couch to watch the door open the second the lock turns.

“Where the hell have you been?”

The abrupt voice that questions you gives you the fright of your life, making you think it was about to trigger another nosebleed that’s just barely dried up. You freeze by the door, cussing and clutching at your heart and only realizing that it’s Jungkook-

Why would Jungkook wait for you to come home?

He’s cozy in his sweats but his physique is the furthest thing from it, the tension on his posture and the stress on his face clearly visible. It’s four in the morning, no reason for him at all to be awake.

There should be no reason for him to worry for you, wait for you to come home and yet here he is, looking distressed and relieved at the same time at your presence.

When Jungkook asks this time, it’s your turn not to answer. You won’t tell him you’ve just come from an underground fight and won, making it your practice before you make your comeback on the octagon once again.

The longer you freeze, the longer Jungkook tenses. His eyebrows are furrowed, hands on his waist. “Excuse me, I’m asking here. It’s morning! Why did you only come home now?”

“Why are you concerned?” you quip harsher than intended, the dim lighting making you seem angrier than you actually are.

“Uhm, why exactly am I concerned?! Because I thought you were mugged or kidnapped or like I don’t know, in an accident or something?!”

“I can protect myself,” your answer falls on deaf ears, overpowered by Jungkook trying (this is his attempt) not to freak out completely.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going? Is it so hard to send a text?”

“Fuck, why are you even awake?” you mumble in annoyance under your breath, this sudden concern for you being cloying, yet to your surprise, he hears you loud and clear.

“Because I couldn’t sleep from worrying over you, that’s why!” his eyes widen because it was the most obvious answer — everyone else would know if they were in his position.

“Jungkook,” you grit, exhaling shakily. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t give me a headache.”

He doesn’t seem deterred by you or your irritation towards him at all, cementing himself deeper to the ground.

“Where. Were. You.”

“None of your business,” you enunciate. “Also, sending you a text? Really? Why would I, your bodyguard, update you of my whereabouts? Do you know how goofy that sounds?”

“You’re not answering me,” he follows you, pausing when you look back at him in the threshold of your room. “Can you please just tell me what was it that you did for you to come home this late?”

You narrow your eyes at him.

Jungkook knows that look, the same one he would give you when you were trying to communicate him outside his room.

“Don’t shut that-…“

…door.

( ♡ )

Jungkook can’t handle it.

He can’t placate himself anymore, no longer able to delude himself that his gut is wrong and there really must be something much more painful for him, for both of you, in store.

He acts upon every impulse and applies every unnecessary skill of blending himself into the crowd, tailing Seokjin first because he knew you must be taking extra steps for him to get off your back.

And he’s right — Jungkook’s right about his feared, drawn-out assumption that you were fighting again. He thought he was just seeing things last night, that the bruise near your eyebrow was just a shadow cast to your face from coming home late.

He wants so badly to be wrong this time. He hates that the only time he’s right, it would be at guessing that you were putting yourself in harm’s way intentionally.

Everything makes him want to churn, the moment he sees Seokjin and then your figure shortly join him to the entrance of an underground club so sketchy and rancid from the outside, it gives him vertigo. You can’t be doing this, there’s no way you’re doing this again so willingly.

He follows the both of you, already gaining weird glances when he was barely into the entrance. He’s made sure to look as unnoticeable as possible, wearing the sweats that everybody wears with even a mask on. Something about him was so distinct that it makes everyone think that oh, that guy looks eerily like Jeon Jungkook. He throws everyone into a loop because wait, there is simply no reason at all for Jeon Jungkook to be in an underground club, at a fight night no less.

Jungkook tries to stomach it; weaving through the crowd and trying to ignore the low ceiling, the lookouts at every exit, and the mentions of your name and the bets attached to it.

He holds his breath until then, until he forces himself into the backrooms while everybody’s too preoccupied and he’s right again — so right with his assumption yet beyond wrong with everything else, chest tightening when he sees you donning the familiar gear.

“What the actual fuck?”

Jungkook’s breathless, shrill voice immediately makes you freeze. Seokjin reacts quickly and evidently, head snapping to meet his figure. “Jungkook-…“

Neither of you pay attention to Seokjin, locked in a delirious gaze with each other that you still can’t believe he’s here of all places. Of all times.

“You’re fighting again?” he whispers, knowing that it’s a question that answers itself. You don’t answer, still frozen in your stance. The noise outside dulls in your ears yet it amplifies in Jungkook’s, a yelp getting caught in his throat. “Why are you fighting again?!”

“Please tell me this is not about the pay. My parents pay you even higher than when you were fighting in the league. I made sure of it,” he gritted, knowing that he pushed for them to pay you even higher.

He can’t rack his head for any reason for you to be here. You were fine — you were fine with him. You don’t have to fight for money and he made sure of it above all things — why would you fight?

You can’t rack any reason in your head for Jungkook to be here. He made it clear to you that he didn’t care for you and yet he’s here, in a place where he clearly doesn’t belong — why should he be concerned?

“Why the fuck did you follow me?” you grit, your tone reading more concerned than angry. “Go home, Jungkook. Right now.”

Seokjin leaves the two of you alone because he’s called by the organizer, taking it as your cue to try and get Jungkook out of here before the fight starts.

“They’re gonna recognize you here. Now’s not the time.”

“No, now is the time! You’re my bodyguard, why are you out here getting beaten up?” he stands his ground, bending and bracing his knees to make it harder for you to pull him away.

“I’m not getting beaten up out there, trust me,” you huff cockily, momentarily distracted by his insinuation to realize that Jungkook has more pressing matters in mind.

“That’s not the point,” he whines, turning the tables on you and holding you by the wrists at the brief second you bragged to him. “I know — you already know you’re good, you don’t have to prove anything. You have a new job. Your job is me. You have me. Why are you still going back to this?”

Jungkook doesn’t get why you want to revert to the old version of you so badly. He doesn’t get why you want to run into the face of hurt and to become the poster child of fighting again despite leaving that scene for him.

“Jungkook,” you swallow at the reminder that protecting him is no longer your job. “Now is not the time.”

He remains stubborn, letting go of your wrists yet he’s still not budging to leave.

“If you want to know why, please go home right now. I’ll explain it to you when I get there.”

“No,” Jungkook swallows thickly, feeling his heart twist because he feels it. He feels the impending doom — he doesn’t know what exactly is it, but he knows it exists. “Whatever it is that you have to say to me, you can say it now.”

“I go out there in two minutes!”

Seokjin hovers by the door, curiously looking and wanting to intervene so badly.

“Well then say it to me now!” Jungkook just about bursts, prompting you to do the same.

“The dating contract’s already been dissolved since last week. We don’t have to pretend we’re dating anymore so you can stop caring about me,” you rush, taking a deep breath before you continue. “I already terminated my contract too. I’m not your bodyguard. I’m training someone else to take over my position. I’ll be out of your hair by the end of the week, and the new hire will be in by Monday.”

Jungkook hasn’t fought anyone physically yet his ears ring.

His ears ring and his stomach hurts, his chest feeling like it’s collapsing.

“That’s everything. Now leave, Jungkook. Go home now.”

Jungkook’s frozen even when Seokjin pulls you out to enter the ring. He’s not numb because he can hear the roar of cheers and he can drag himself feet first to the main area to watch you hurt and get hurt.

You’re still fluid in the ring, your signature fighting style highlighting the sloppiness and volatility of your opponent.

Your fighting has always been this way and yet it looks different to Jungkook compared to the first time he’s seen you in the flesh. He isn’t queasy when it comes to watching fights, never — yet now, he feels sick.

Your moves are still quick, calculated, and powerful yet none of it registers to Jungkook because you’re not alone on the ring. He can’t see how good you are — he can only see how you could be hurt.

And you do get hurt. You’re graceful regardless if you deliver blow after blow or receive a few hits every now and then, but what Jungkook could only see is you being hurt. Of how you’re experiencing pain even if what you receive is barely half of the pain you deliver.

Jungkook watches you in a different perspective. Just about a year ago when he first saw you in action, he was cheering for you. Yelling with the crowd when you were overpowering and chanting when you were on the verge of finishing your opponent.

But now, despite you overpowering and finishing your opponent, he can’t find it in him to cheer. All he could see is you hurting and it brings tears to his eyes, unable to control his emotions even more because he feels like hurling.

You win. You win like always and as soon as your hand is raised and the bell is rung, it’s not Seokjin who gets to you first — it’s Jungkook.

You’re elated and running on pure adrenaline but you feel like crashing as soon as you feel Jungkook’s trembling hands on your face assessing you. You’re thankful that you’re able to grasp some sense, prioritizing in dashing to the backroom quickly so everyone collectively skips over the fact that Jeon Jungkook is here and just happens to be fussing over you.

Jungkook doesn’t stop even in a different setting, making you sit immediately while he examines the cut on your brow and the bust on your lip, either cussing or praying underneath his breath.

“I told you to go home.”

You try to breath stably, your high on adrenaline being a big jump to seeing Jungkook, the last person you expect to be worrying about you, examine you from head to toe.

“Are your ribs okay?” he presses on them, putting the back of his hand on your forehead. “Are you dizzy?”

He continues to ignore you. If only you didn’t consider yourself unworthy of his love and concern, you would realize that Jungkook isn’t ignoring you — he’s just running on autopilot. He’s not a medical professional and neither is Seokjin (the latter atleast knows how to properly do first aid). He doesn’t know how to care for you but he’s trying to, looking at you every which way.

“Jungkook.”

“How about your ankle? Could you still flex it?” he sighs, holding the warming skin on it. “That’s gonna bruise so badly.”

“Jungkook, stop.”

Your voice trembles but he just won’t listen. He just won’t quit fussing over you.

“Jungkook I said-…”

“How am I supposed to stop?” Jungkook bursts at the seams, your voice overlapping repeatedly in his brain belatedly. “How am I supposed to stop when you drop all of this on me at the same time?! How am I supposed to stop worrying when all I can see is that you’re hurt?”

“You should look at the other guy. I’m not-…”

He ignores you because there you are again. There you are with your pride talking and it irks Jungkook because it’s the only thing you’ve picked up from everything he’s spilled. He’s worried insane over you and the only thing you respond to was what you assume is a dig at the hits you’ve received.

“You haven’t been talking to me. You’ve been sneaking out. You’re back to fighting and all of a sudden you’re fighting again?”

“All on you?” your ears burn. “Has it ever hit you that I’m doing all this for my sake and not for yours?”

There goes Jungkook again with his self-centeredness, his insinuation that you’re doing this for him sounding deeply insulting to you.

“That’s on me? I haven’t been talking to you because after we kissed, you literally wished that we should never see each other again!” you repeat, in disbelief that Jungkook has the gall to bring up his sake.

“You heard that?” he pauses, frustration simmering instantaneously. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how do you mean it?”

“I don’t-“ he swallows. “I meant it at the time, okay? I didn’t know why I kissed you but I don’t regret it.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to me after that?” you exasperate, head tilting back.

“I don’t know, that’s the thing.”

Jungkook’s frustrating.

Too frustrating that now you can’t filter anything that comes out of your mouth with the adrenaline still in your system, your eyes rolling so hard that Jungkook thought you were gonna black out for a second.

“That’s always the thing with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his voice gentle, not wanting to know what you mean by it if it’s to hurt him.

Thinking about it, Jungkook thinks that he may not deserve your love, but he does deserve your hurt.

“That you’re selfish,” you spit. “You’re the most selfish person I know, Jungkook. The worst.”

“I’m the worst person I know too.”

He agrees with you. After all, it’s not the first time things like these have been said to him. But now that it’s coming from you, Jungkook could confirm to himself that it’s the truth.

“Please let me be the worst one more time,” Jungkook breathlessly pleads, the tightness in his chest only wounding. “Please stop fighting.”

“I’m not begging you to be my bodyguard again. I’m not begging you to be my fake girlfriend. I’m not begging for my sake this time,” the tears fall freely from his eyes, trying not to shut his eyes because when he does, he’ll see you wincing again. “Stop fighting.”

You’re caught off-guard, the beating in your chest confused because at this point, Jungkook should be contradicting you to hell and back that he’s not the worst person you know.

“It’ll all catch up to you someday,” he warns gently. “You’re hurting now. It’ll hurt even more when you go back to the league,”

That’s it.

“Oh.”

The actual moment of realization that hits you doesn’t relieve you, instead, it makes you dizzy. You’re chuckling but it’s devoid of actual humor. Nothing’s funny about it.

“You’re begging me to stop fighting,” you smile, the same adrenaline that flows through your chest starting to tighten around your heart. “I thought you were begging me to come back to you because you love me.”

“And you don’t, right?” you ask with tears building on your eyes, tilting your head to gauge Jungkook. “You don’t love me, do you?”

Jungkook’s breathless. That’s not true. That’s the shittiest assumption he’s ever heard about himself. Before he can even explain himself, you’ve already made up your mind.

“You don’t want me,” you mumble. “You only want me around.”

You’re trying to get up and Jungkook’s trying to sit you back down, even going so far as to kneel in front of you to weigh you down but you tug him back up harshly, pointing him right at the door.

“Get out, Jungkook.”

“No,” he shakes his head no earnestly even if you’re stepping towards him with anger you can’t even explain.

“I want to become just like you,” you chuckle, pacing around with an accusing finger pointed to him. “I want to be the worst, most selfish person I know. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

“So leave, Jungkook,” you say as sternly as you could, the crack in your voice giving away that perhaps it’s not only anger that you feel. You fish for a coin in your duffel bag with trembling hands, throwing it patronizingly to the floor, spinning and turning to land right at his feet.

“I wish you’d leave me.”

Jungkook doesn’t.

He shows up on your next fight.

He shows up for the third, the fourth, the fifth fight, and the fights after that.

Jungkook could be committed just as he is stupid, that much he knows. He let you become the worst, most selfish person you know (read: him) that night and left just as you wished — but only for that night does he grant it.

There was no other word to describe Jungkook besides desperate. It dripped off him the second you woke up the next day and you almost tripped the moment you got out of your room because Jungkook’s sleeping right outside it, true to his word that he would leave you alone for the night; and factually enough, it’s morning.

He’s so desperate to the point that it’s pitiful, equivalent to a dog sleeping at your feet and you having to work around in removing your shoe underneath the snout.

You don’t hate Jungkook, no, maybe not anymore. It’s much more complex than that. It has everything to do with how perhaps the two of you are emotionally constipated, one more than the other, and how the two of you think in your own twisted ways that you’re undeserving of love.

You don’t hate Jungkook, he’s tolerable. You attempt to tolerate him even if he literally pushes Seokjin out of the way to assess your injuries, his knowledge growing more and more for each fight that you get yourself into. He fusses over you more than you ever did for him.

You try to tolerate him and swallow the secondhand embarrassment you get from Jungkook sticking out like a sore thumb in the places you belonged to but he didn’t. Jungkook knows how just out-of-place he looks but he can’t bring it in himself to focus on the timidness he feels, only able to focus on your sake and on your hurt only.

He fits himself in places he doesn’t belong to in the hopes that he’d find you there; in the hopes you’d take him under your wing again and put a hand on his waist just like past times, a quiet understanding between the two of you that you’ve got him.

Just like now, Jungkook forces himself into the small couch of the backroom waiting for yet another fight, squeezing himself to lie down on your lap, gauging your reaction.

You smile.

Ah, you don’t look like you hate him.

“I did something by myself today,” he clears his throat, making you look up from your phone and back down on your lap because you almost forgot he’s invaded your space. Again. “I enrolled myself in a course.”

“Don’t you already have your degree?” you ask perplexed, distinctly recalling his diploma displayed in his parents’ living room.

“Yeah, in business. It’s a useless degree,” Jungkook smiles sheepishly, admitting it outloud. “After all, I’m a nepo baby, right?”

You tense at the random addition, feeling a little sorry because you know you’ve left quite the sting on Jungkook since your fight months ago. “Jungkook, I didn’t-…”

“It’s okay. I’m starting to become more self-aware these days,” he grins without malice, eyes crinkling and dimples appearing that you momentarily stop your explanation to just observe.

When you look at him like that, Jungkook knows when people care (and love) for him just because they do.

“Speaking of being self-aware, against popular misconception, I know how to love,” he makes a show of clearing his throat, delivering his line with utmost sincerity that it turns him meek. “I just don’t know when to stop.”

When Jungkook professes to you like this, he sounds the most attainable. He sounds soft; the most vulnerable of the vulnerable.

“Are you stopping?” you ask just as gently.

“You tell me.” (Read: no. Jungkook doesn’t ever want to stop loving you.)

It’s silence, always dwindles to it between the two of you but it isn’t the type that weighs the both of you down. Simply put it was just peace, a quiet understanding that love isn’t weak as either of you painted it out to be.

“Anyway, I enrolled myself because I want to study again. It’s something I wanna be an expert on,” Jungkook’s heart thrums in his ears, looking up at you who looks just as nervous and excited as he is. “I’m studying to become a paramedic.”

You smile warmly, head tilting in wonder.

“Why?”

“So I can help you. You protected me before, and it’s my turn to aid you now,” he chews on his bottom lip. “I can save you myself if worse comes to worst.”

Jungkook gets a pinch to his thigh for even thinking such a thing and it makes him giggle a little, a welcome break to the somber and serious thoughts he has regarding you career.

“I know you want to continue fighting. I don’t know when you’ll stop and if I could convince you to stop,” he pauses, looking down on your hands that are hovering just above his. “But for as long as you’ll fight, I’ll try to heal you.”

Against your belief, perhaps love is for the weak. Because as much as it’s cruel and it chooses, love is based on a faulty premise of caring for others despite the presence and threats of fallacies — and if loving Jungkook means to be weak, then so be it.

“Jungkook.”

“You don’t have to cry,” Jungkook weakly reprimands you and yet he cries himself, reaching up to wipe at your eyes. “You took care of me. You’ve been taking care of everyone and everything but yourself your whole life.”

Against Jungkook’s belief, perhaps love isn’t for the weak. Because as much it’s based on a faulty premise of caring for others despite the presence and threats of fallacies, love found its way to him in the form of you — and if loving you means subjecting himself to such cruelness, Jungkook would strive not to be weak.

“I can take care of you,” Jungkook whispers, more than willing to spend the rest of his wishes in giving everything you deserve. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t have to amount to something to be considered deserving of love — the moment you love, you amount to everything.

“I wish you’ll let me love you the way you love me.”

#and how r we feeling :O lmk best friends thank u <3 #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk oneshot

2K notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 2 months

Text

new task: valentine’s day (ACTS)

A/N: reposting by acts! [see full version here]. wanted to see if this format works better (and yes i will squeeze everything in this one right here cause its amazing and i 100% worked my ass off on it)

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 3.150k

CW: fluffy comfort, use of spanglish (not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format, the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), academic rivals, bad student reader x good student seungmin, mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying, mentions of being followed, (pet)names: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is kind of a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}

To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.

Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.

You were mad. As fuck.

“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.

“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.

You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.

And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.

“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”

Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.

Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.

“Miss, I—”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.

Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.

Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.

It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.

You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.

< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn

< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊

You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.

You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?

The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.

“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.

“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.

Why did it always have to be him?

He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.

“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”

You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.

“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.

But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.

“Did you fix it?”

You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.

In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.

“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.

We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.

As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.

< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?

Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.

“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.

Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?

Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.

Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.

“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.

“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”

But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.

“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”

Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.

“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.

Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.

Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.

But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.

Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.

You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.

But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”

Oh, son of a bitch.

“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.

Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”

Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.

Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.

You wouldn’t see the end of it.

And he knew it.

Bitch.

So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.

Lucas chuckled next to you.

“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”

…WHAT?!

“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”

He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”

Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”

His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.

But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.

“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.

That mas was slightly terryifing.

You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.

“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”

“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.

Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.

“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”

Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.

“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”

Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.

“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.

“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”

You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.

“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.

“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.

“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.

“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”

You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.

“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”

Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.

“Exactly. We don’t like him.”

“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.

“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”

He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”

You grinned cheekily.

“Sure. Can’t wait.”

[☆★🌷★☆]

You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.

Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.

Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.

“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.

And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.

“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.

You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?

“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.

He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.

See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.

“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.

His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.

Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.

He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.

“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”

His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.

You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.

It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.

You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.

You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.

But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.

…

what were you doing?

…

WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!

You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.

He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.

In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.

This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.

This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.

But it felt real.

And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.

He panted, struggling to catch his breath.

“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.

He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.

He found himself enjoying this one even more.

“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

You blinked as he stood up and walked away.

What…

What had just happened?

[☆★🌷★☆]

40 notes · View notes

turvi · 9 months

Note

Hi lovelyyyy, I remember seeing ur post about wanting to write something desi x harry potter vibe related and as a desi myself I LOVE THIS IDEA SM and have always wanted to read something like this!!

So I wanted to request - could you do something Severus x reader (who are already in an established relationship), where reader is an indian girl and has a indian boy best friend. They sometimes talk to each other in Hindi (or whatever indian language you speak) so ofc they seem super close to everyone + one day in Potions class he starts teasing her about Severus in Hindi and she starts blushing, laughing and hitting him playfully etc and Severus notices and gets jealous?

Severus can like confront her about it later and she reassures him before she starts expressing her love to him in Hindi, giving translations too and then its just full of fluff

If not dw!! Just really wanna read something desi related and im a killer for jealous severus fics ahah

Absolutely love all ur work btw :)

Severus Snape x Indian! Fem! Reader

Severus clenched his quill when he heard Y/n giggling. Normally his heart would fill with warmth when he would hear her laugh but now that her new friend Aditya was making her laugh, his heart burned.

It had all started a week ago. It was supposed to be a lovely day, just him and his Y/n, enjoying the pleasant weather with him laying on her lap as she gently massaged his scalp. But as they were walking towards the black lake Y/n bumped into Aditya. He told her he was lost as he is an exchange student. As they talked more Y/n realised Aditya belonged from her native place. Now she wouldn't budge from her place even if Severus tugged her sleeve with a pout on his lips as they talked about their favourite places to visit.

He looked up from his notes to see Aditya whispering in Y/n's ear and noticed her cheeks blush from his words. Severus got irritated and scratched his nose as the scowl deepened on his forehead. Severus got up with a huff as soon as the class got over, ignoring Y/n's voice calling his name despite feeling fireworks in his heart at how his name sounded in her voice.

"Sev, wait." The speed of his footsteps increased as he heard her call his name again, the sound of his heartbreaking was louder. He was on the verge of tears the thought of losing Y/n clouded his mind so much he didn't realise when she caught up to him.

Y/n tugged his arm and her heart shattered at the sight of his tear-filled eyes. She went to comfort him by touching his arm but he avoided her touch. His glare was cold. "No need to put up with me. If I have started to feel like a burden to you, you can leave. I won't stop you." He spat the bitter words at her, finding it easier to do than confront her.

"What are you talking about Sev? What's the matter?" Y/n asked trying to hold his hand to calm him. Severus couldn’t retract his hand, he always felt grounded whenever he felt her hand in his.

“You don’t have to be with me because you pity me Y/n. You are free to be with someone you actually love.” he diverted his eyes trying not to let her see his teary eyes.

Y/n tried to pull his chin up but he looked away again. “Sev please don’t look away from me. Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Do you love Aditya?” the way his voice cracked made her heartbreak. He thought this was an endgame and that this will the last time he will get to look into her eyes.

“Oh, Severus.” Y/n tugged him closer and cupped his cheek. “Why would you think like that?” Severus sighed as Y/n hugged him. He gave up all the fight as soon as he felt her hands massaging his scalp.

“I was scared. He is so much better, you understand each other better and you were blushing when he spoke to you"

Y/n cupped his face with both her hands, looking deep into his dark eyes. "Severus, my love, my life…I was blushing because he was teasing me how I act like lovesick puppy around you and it's the truth. Yes it's nice that he speaks my language but you understand me better than anyone."

Y/n wiped his tears "Severus, jab tumhe dekhti hu na lagta hai jaise subah subah ki dhoop mil gayi ho par jab tum nahi dikhte to lagta hai jaise main akele thand main khari hu"

His lips involuntarily smiled at her words. He couldn't understand anything she said but the way she looked at him like he was the only person in the corridor right now.

"It sounds beautiful. What does it mean?" He asked brushing her cheek with his thumb.

"It means that when I see you it feels like early morning sunshine and when I don't I feel like I'm standing alone in the cold."

"I'm so sorry lovie. I let my fear win over my trust. You are always so patient with me, so loving. And I always push you away with my insecurity. Honestly it felt like my worst fear came true when I saw you getting close with Aditya." Severus wanted to embrace her but with so many students in the corridor he was only able to hold her hands.

"Sev-"

"No, let me finish. I doubted your love. You are so kind to me and I doubted you. You take care of me and this is how I repay it by doubting you. I'm so sorry my love." Severus almost wrapped his arms around her waist but retracted his hands quickly noticing eyes on them.

His eyes widened when she placed his arms on her waist. "I'm yours, Severus. I love you so much." She confessed peppering his face with kisses, his chuckles encouraging her more to kiss him.

Severus smirked as he tugged her closer to him but Y/n pushed him away. "Wait, you said you were going to make it up to me for doubting me."

"Y/n'' Severus jokingly groaned. "Ok tell me what can I do to win you back. I will do anything."

"Anything?" She teased him by nudging his nose with hers.

"Anything. I promise."

"Get me chocolate ice-cream in a chocolate dipped cone."

Severus let out a relieved sigh. "For you my love. I'll bring 10 ice cream cones.. maybe more."

"I just want one and promise me that before you decide to have the great idea that I don't love you, talk to me before you decide to distance yourself from me."

Severus guiltily kissed the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, love. Come on, one chocolate ice-cream in a chocolate dipped cone is waiting for us."

"One? You won't be having ice cream?"

"No lovie, I'll take a few bites from your icecream." Severus teased her back by bumping his shoulder with her. He felt like his cheeks warm up when she squeezed his hand, falling more in love with her.

A/N: I hope you liked this. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

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gettinshiggywithit · 1 year

Text

Day-01

!Watching Horror Movies With Bakugou And Kirishima!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Scenario: its time for your annual horror movie night with your best bois!

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

“OI BAKUBITCH WHATS TAKIN SO DAM LONG!”

Your voice echoed through the dorms and reached the ears of a very irritated kacchan~

“Hold on a dam minute you fuckin idiot!”

He called back from his spot in front of the stove in the kitchen(the microwave is RIGHT THERE but nooo he insists on using the stove for popcorn 🙄{i do too tbh😭})

“Guyssss,”kiri whispered. “Youre gonna wake everyone uppppp”

At this you gasped and quickly held a finger over your mouth in a ‘shush’ gesture and kiri nodded.

Not long after,katsuki walked in,a huge ass bowl of popcorn in his arms

“Cant belive you assholes burned the last two batches” he said as he sat to your left

You happily took the bowl into your lap and onto your,now crossed legs.

The couch had been decked out in different fluffy blankets and poofy pillows

For what? you might ask(yh its in the title..)

Well it was your annual besties halloween movie marathon of courseeeee

You guys did it every year!

Just you,kiri and katsuki on the commonroom couch with a big fat bowl of popcorn in dark,watchin scary movies

This year youd decided to change it up just a liiitle bit

Instead of goin for the regular halloween-y horror films you settled for the final destination movies

Guaranteed to make you scared and also wary for daysss

So once you were all situated and comfortably snuggled in,you pressed the play button

And the film began

Like ik we all know and love out little kachchan as this brave courageous hot headed best boi but even these movies get to him :’)

Like itll be a particularly gruesome death that yall can see it comin and he’ll slowly grip your hand under the blankets

Neither of you acknowledge it,but you feel happy and proud knowing that katsuki feels safe enough to let down his walls around you.and we all know how high his walls and defences can be,(theyd give even eugene fitzherbert a run for his tiara!)

Kiri on the other hand is very expressive

We know that tho dont we besties~💅🏻

Like he’ll he yelping and gasping and shouting warnings to the charcters and suddenly the kid who was telling yall to shush was makin enough noise to alert even the league of villains!(dw the entire dorm had earplugs in,they knew how loud you guys got on ur traditional movie night)

And when you stop for a break you guys completely lose it and both chastise and mourn the characters who passed

The one where the guy gets his organs sucked out in the pool really had kiri TRAUMATISEDDD

Give him a hug please he needss ittt

Also youre gonna need to make sure he doesnt go to any pools for the next two weeks

Bakugou was really shook by the one where the train got derailed and killed them

He was out here cursing the rat :’)

Like he was full on “STUPID FUCKIN RAT ! IF IT HADNT DONE THAT MAYYBEEE THEYD STILL BE ALIVE GODDAMMITTTT”

You and kiri reallyy needed to work hard to calm him down :’)

And finally to wash it all down you guys watched some masterchef and Attack On Titan: Junior High.

And when the boys saw you were still a little shaken up,your eyes lookin at the windows and the shadows, they knew what they had to do

Bakugou pulled you to your feet and kiri got the tunes

And together they made sure you danced your fears away!

You went on till past 2 am and finally when you were tired enough you plopped back onto the couch and just chilled

You were the first to fall asleep that night,so the boys decided ‘you know what? Fuck it! And just stayed there with you!

You guys woke up at about 8 am the next day and had breakfast with the rest of your class all while still discussing the previous night’s movies!!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the mha characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but this story? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader

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whistlingstarlight · 10 months

Note

I would very much like to hear about your trip to the U.S.

Okay buckle up this is gonna take a while-

I can't quite do it justice as it really was a "had to be there" experience and several years ago, but I'll describe it the best I can

So it was me, my dad and my uncle going out to see one of his friends. He's a DJ, they both like DJing, etc. The plan was to spend the first week in this really beautiful little coastal town they live in, then road trip the second week up to Sacramento where we'd get the plane home.

That did not happen at all.

So the first two days were spent in a BnB with this guy who was constantly hungover, and a much more chill couple. Pretty alright, had a nice view of the sea. The building was ugly in this really posh way, like we had an en suite bathroom but there were sconce lights on the mirror

My uncle's friend and his wife were pretty rich. And they didn't necessarily rub it in our faces, but my dad (who's very much a working-class "done everything for himself" kind of guy) did not appreciate the tour round the neighbourhood of all the cars this guy had sold.

And then The Fight.

This "friend" got absolutely hammered during a DJ session and just went off on my dad over nothing. My uncle was pretty mad and got us out of there. We met a couple of his friends who were arriving as we were leaving, as when they heard what happened they just took us out for dinner instead kskdks

So on the third day it was discovered our BnB had been double booked so we were literally just- being moved into someone's house. Like they let it out as an air BnB but they left a bunch of their personal belongings and it felt really weird, I felt like some kind of squatter. Also you could literally see the ex-friend's house at the end of the street, which my dad wasn't pleased about. Also the house owner's dog hadn't yet been picked up by the person who was gonna be looking after it and it has escaped twice, so before we were even unpacked we had the police on the doorstep (dog was fine, dw)

So the big downside of my uncle and his friend falling out was it put the kibosh on the roadtrip plan for the second week, and the BnB was only available until the Sunday so we were kind of panicking about where we could go.

Now we'd previously met this ex-friend's sister, and without hesitation she was apologising profusely for her brother's behaviour (her and their mum were both lovely so idfk how he ended up such an arse), and she offered us a place to stay free of charge.

And her place was tiny, mind. Like she didn't even have proper doorways between her bedroom, living room and kitchen, but she still put us up as best she could.

Now the good parts of the trip were that this town was gorgeous. Deer wandering around gardens, hummingbirds everywhere, so so beautiful. We went whale watching and saw humpbacks and sea lions co-hunting together, and I got to visit Monterey Bay Aquarium three times which is one of my favourite places I've ever been.

Tbh I think I've blocked some of it out because it was such an emotional rollercoaster. I kept a diary of the first week and that's really the only way I remember it, aside from the good parts like the aquarium and seeing hummingbirds in the flesh. ALSO one of the nice people we met there gave me a genuine oyster pearl, which is pretty cool.

Also people were constantly offering me alcohol on this trip even though I was like fifteen??? Bruh I can't even legally drink in my own country let alone here, and I don't drink anyway-

So yeah, pretty wild ride X)

#the whole things feels like a fever dream #i didn't dislike the trip but wow I wish it has been a lot less stressful and “what the fuck is happening and why”#thank you for asking about it though it's definitely one of my more interesting stories kskdksx #clyde rambles #asks #second to none

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that-homoerotic-blouse · 4 years

Text

I love Rose Tyler because every time she encountered a new alien life form or a fellow human that seemed to be mistreated in some way she went “HELLO DO THEY TREAT YOU WELL, HOW MUCH DO THEY PAY YOU, ARE YOUR BASIC RIGHTS BEING VIOLATED, DID YOU KNOW YOU ARE ENTITLED TO AN EIGHT HOUR SHIFT AND THREE WEEKS OF VACATION ALSO YOU COULD JOIN A UNION, MY NAME IS ROSE I’M HERE TO HELP” and that was just so rad of her

#rose tyler has always been a communist fight me #dw belongs to the working class #i'll take no criticism #dw #doctor who #Ninth Doctor #Tenth Doctor #rose tyler #David Tennant #billie piper #tenrose #ten x rose #nine x rose

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dexpairs-blog · 2 years

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Twst x Bayonetta au crossover!

It's actually a crossover of a twst au that belongs to @alexglitches !! Go check them out! I Hope Azul isn't too ooc!!

(i also have a Bayo au and yea-)

Azul and Evangeline sibling headcanons

Cw: slight mention of periods!!, also slight Evangeline x reader bc i got excited

Let's start by saying that since they're the same age they bicker, A LOT.

It's all in good fun of course, and they learned to keep it lowkey because mama Bayo doesn't like tantrums.

Other than that they're togheter almost all the time, classes, dorm, monstro lounge...

Evangeline doesn't work at the monstro lounge though, she just lazes around and looks pretty. Azul can't kick her out either so...

Usually she goes and sits at the tables of the customers that buy the most to flirt with them and get more money-

She likes to tease the first years especially, just look at them Azul! They're all so cute~!!♡

MC is no exception! Especially if the MC is a girl (or just afab!) She'll ignore everyone to go flirt with her/them!

Honestly tho, afab MC and Eva would have an immediate solidarity.

MC needs a pad/tampon? Dw she got you.

Need her to see if they're stained? Sure! walk a little be so it doesn't look weird.

She'll even lend their jacket!

My bi queen is down bad

Back to Azul and Eva.

They like to poke fun at eachother but if somebody else does it? Death.

They're the only ones allowed to gently bully eachother.

They're also very supportive of eachother but would rather die than admit it.

Like if Evangeline finds out that the MC likes Azul and/or viceversa she'll play it off like she doesn't care while she's phisically pushing their heads togheter to make them kiss.

Since Eva, unlike Azul focused more on being an umbra witch like her mother she knows a lot of ancient spells.

She already mastered witch time! And she even made a contract with a demon!!

So her, Jeanne and Bayo teach Azul stuff.

Not to mention that demons limbs are useful to keep rowdy freshmen in check.

Azul got one more bodyguard

Spoilers for chapter 3!!

Ok so, Eva already feels bad for the first years but doesn't say anything. And her concern for Azul grows more and more each day.

Things escalate and eventually they can't take it anymore and help the Savanaclaw guys + the braincell trio and MC behind Azuls back.

To which Azul doesn't react well, AT ALL.

"HOW COULD YOU!?"

"you traitor!!"

"i trusted you!!"

Are some of the things you can hear during his overblot.

While Evangeline couple easily oneshot Azul (cause she's op compared to the students lol), she could'nt bring herself to hurt their brother.

Luckily, Bayo somehow appears and brings Azul back to normal.

*cue sappy family moment + an awkward Bayo*(maam these are your kids-)

Once everything is resolved Bayo and Eva make Azul offer free meals once a week to the first years for the rest of the month.

MC also has someone else trying to help them go home now, Eva is more efficient than Crowley lol-

#twst x bayonetta #twst x reader headcanons #oc evangeline #bayonetta #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagine #ocevangeline

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httphonsool · 3 years

Text

the great spymaster

4. the prince of dawn

synopsis; a series of drabbles in which you manage to conquer the great, brooding spymaster’s heart- this time you’ve met another male.

warnings; jealousy, insecurity?? idrk

tag list; @moonchild-cf @marvelpotter @bruxa0007

notes; i’m so sorry i’ve been gone for like a week, i’ve been so busy it was my birthday on wednesday so i was gone all day celebrating, and then my mum’s was yesterday, and easter was today and i had church, speaking of, happy easter!! i had work to hand in all week for my classes, but i’m on holiday now so i’m free to finally write some more and get around to my requests, and for those who like some spice in writing; dw in the next few chapters things will get a little spicy too ;)

You had met a male in the library.

Four weeks and a man had already caught your eye.

Azriel supposes he’s actually glad, thinking it might be easier to hide the fact that you’re his mate; in other words he’s hoping the bond will be weakened.

He can feel your every emotion, your every movement (he swears he heard your giggles in his head one time), it’s sad almost; knowing that he can’t have you yet still being absolutely whipped for you, though Azriel would never admit that.

The male was the same height as Azriel, huge in comparison to your below average body, had jet black hair that billowed around his head and dark eyes that kissed at the corners. He hadn’t told you but the fae man you were so captivated by was the Prince of the Dawn Court, Leo, he’d been sent here as a scholar and was quite a bit younger than him. The young prince is only twenty-seven years old, his twenty-eighth birthday just around the corner, yet he was already a charmer.

On the other hand, you were only slightly interested in the young prince, you were more entranced by the idea that you may gain a friend, though Azriel knew- no, saw exactly what the prince wanted, and for better or worse the fae prince was already falling deep into the abyss known by your name.

Azriel didn’t like it.

His heart burned and ached just from the thought, yet he couldn’t quite understand why.

But he stuck by, going with you to the library every day when you asked; it was practically a daily ritual now, he stayed whilst you read your smutty books, and stood by whilst watching you bake at the House of Wind (something he had found quite amusing, even after almost losing his shit watching you burn yourself twice in the same baking session; Rhys and Cassian had lost their minds cackling at him).

He watches almost every move you make, not in a creepy way, but in a protective way.

Azriel wasn’t a good man, and certainly not a good lover, he couldn’t care for you the same way perhaps the prince could, but he also wished he could forgive and give himself a chance to show you how he could care for you.

“Great spymaster sir?” There was your sweet voice, pulling him out of his thoughts yet again. You throw a scrap of paper at him, “…a paper for your thoughts?” he almost laughs at your actions; so innocent, you didn’t belong with him at all, what had the cauldron been thinking?

“I believe the saying is ‘a penny for your thoughts’, is it not?” He chuckles.

“Oh shush, now tell me what you were thinking.”

“I was just thinking about my duties for tomorrow.” His face is stoic now.

“I thought you had other people taking care of these duties?” You ask.

“I manage to take care of some of them whilst you’re asleep.” He nods.

“Whilst I’m asleep?”

“You wake up quite late, love.” Love. Shit why did I say that? Azriel thinks he’s lost his mind because of you.

“Excuse me, ten o’clock in the morning is quite early,” you cross your arms and pout slightly. Azriel’s eyes flicker down to your lips for a second.

“Sure, whatever you say, __.” He walks away from you slowly, missing your presence almost immediately and trying his best to ignore the battering and pounding of his heart.

And all Azriel can seem to think at the moment is what in the cauldron had gotten into him.

He hadn’t had this feeling since Mor, in fact this wasn’t similar to Mor in the slightest.

Hadn’t felt something like this for Elain or Gwyn, either.

Most of all, he was wondering about the Dawn Prince, and whether or not you would ask to go meet him again. He found that he was dreading it, in all honesty. He decided he would take you and keep his distance, he was sure that keeping some distance with you would fix the matter of his heart. But the matter was that his heart had started to despise Leo.

He had started to despise Leo, the Prince of Dawn, and Azriel can’t help but wonder what the poor prince had done to deserve his hatred.

His heart knew but his mind refused to accept it.

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand #x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra #feyre #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #mor #eris #lucien #cassian #drabble #az #rhys

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free-pool-trash · 4 years

Text

folklore - isaac lahey {2/?}

part two because i just couldn’t wait lmao! this chapter focuses a lot on the reader but there is some cute isaac moments in there too because i wanted there to be more to the story than just reader and isaac’s relationship <33 this part is kinda just setting stuff up tho so dw!

platonic derek x reader in this part :) and isaac ofc

please let me know what u think :)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, i think that’s it???? let me know if i misses anything <3

my taglist is still pretty wishy washy for this so i’m gonna tag the people who enjoyed part one, thanks for all the lovely feedback <3

Taglist: @makeusfreefromthisfandom, @cece-lives-here, @chocolate-raspberries, @belsandthings let me know if you’d like to be added or removed <3

PART 1

PART 3

Endless thoughts plagued your mind as you wandered through the crowded halls. It barely registered with you that Derek could be home and not bother to check in, although maybe it was for the best, you were pretty sure that he was still a wanted man- for a crime you were also sure he didn't commit. You knew Derek, despite the fact that you weren't related by blood you saw each other as family, you knew how he treated his family, it was what he treasured above all else and there was absolutely no way in hell that he had burned his whole family tree to ash.

He and his uncle Peter were the only Hale's left as far as you knew, however saying that Peter was "alive" seemed like a bit of a reach. The man who used to tell you stories and sneak you candy whenever he saw you was completely immobilized now, scarred to the point of being almost unrecognizable, he couldn't talk, he could barely move, he was even being fed through a tube.

Peter was a particularly close friend of your father's, he'd always made you refer to him as 'uncle Peter' and the man did the title justice treating you like one of his own. And while you called him Uncle Peter, he- and the rest of the Hale's- always called you something different; "The littlest of the pack" though you never understood why the family had such an obsession with being known as a pack, you were more than delighted to know that they considered you part of it.

When you were old enough you started volunteering at the hospital which held Peter and after six months of hard work, sweeping hallways and helping the overworked nurses they finally bumped you up to keeping patients company. Since you were still in school you were mostly at the hospital at night and on Sunday mornings, the same time as your favourite nurse, Melissa, who always assigned you to Peter when she was manning the same ward as you. To be honest it was rough seeing him in such a state, it was as though everyone you loved seemed to struggle- the thought alone always made you choke up, made you wish you had some kind of power to take it all away, to make everything better. But you didn't, so you simply read to him, told him about what was happening in the news, stories about what was happening at school as Peter was always one for a good scoop of gossip, you even confided in him about the sharp sting you felt in your chest whenever someone you cared about was in pain, himself included. The logical thing would've been to simply stop visiting him but if you did then he'd barely have any human interaction for the rest of his life and ignoring the fact that he couldn't show it, you knew deep down that he could hear you, felt that he appreciated your visits.

Without even realizing where your feet had been carrying you, too lost in thought to notice, you found yourself nearing Isaac's locker, the boy himself hunched by it, his face hidden by the blue metal door. It was easy to forget over the weekend and after hanging out alone how shy Isaac was, he was a completely different person around you, he was loud, granted he still wasn't as loud as you but he certainly knew how to find his voice, he stood straighter as opposed to how the tall boy stood in the school hallways. To you he stood out, in a perfectly beautiful way, you often chastised him for not giving himself enough credit, always asking if he'd ever even looked in a mirror. Even with your endless compliments that made him blush every time without fail, Isaac still chose to blend in, but you didn't blame him- you blamed his asshole of a father for making him believe he was anything less than wonderful.

It was no secret that Isaac was taller than the average teen in Beacon Hills standing at six foot one, which meant he gave incredible hugs but it also meant he tried his very best to fold into himself in larger crowds and he regularly walked with his head down as to not draw attention to himself, even standing at his locker he bowed his head.

Shaking off your thoughts you walked up to your best friends side, tugging his sleeve softly to alert him of your presence before wrapping your arms around him, enveloping him in a side hug and allowing your head to rest against his arm while he wriggled it out of your grasp to wrap around your waist more comfortably, not paying his burning cheeks and racing heart any mind as he shifted his gaze from organizing his books to the girl clinging to him with a pout on her face, "What's up, buttercup?"

Nuzzling your head further into his side you let out a dramatic sigh, "I heard from Scott that Derek is back in Beacon." Isaac felt his eyebrow raising at the mention of both names, Scott's because you seemed to be hearing a lot of things from him in the last couple of days and at Derek's because he was pretty sure you hadn't seen him in years.

"How would McCall know if Derek's in town? Isn't he pretty much your cousin?" Isaac asked, thumb moving soothingly against your hip as you melted into him, shoulders slumping sadly and your pout only becoming more prominent. His voice sounded slightly aggravated at the mention of Scott but you thought nothing of it, thankfully. Isaac didn't want this to turn into a conversation about his petty jealousy.

"Forget cousin he was more like my big brother. That's what's got me so twisted! Why would he come home and not even bother to check in?" You murmured grumpily against the fabric of the flannel Isaac was sporting instead of his usual cardigan, which reminded you that he couldn't have worn his usual cardigan because you'd forgotten to give it back to him the night before and sported it yourself. The comfy grey material hugging your shoulders as you hugged the boy that the item of clothing actually belonged to.

"When did McCall say he saw him?" Isaac inquired, sorting his books with one hand.

"Yesterday."

"Alright well that wasn't too long ago maybe he's planning on checking in today?" He suggested, finishing up at his locker and throwing his bag over his shoulder, dropping his hand from your hip and sliding it into yours, interlocking your fingers and giving you a comforting squeeze before he began leading you towards the school's double doors, the last class of the day having already ended.

Letting out another sigh you only nodded, swinging your interlocked hands between you as you walked towards the exit.

"I promised my dad I'd finish a plot at the cemetery so he'd let me come over tonight so I'm gonna be a little bit late." Isaac broke the silence, looking at you with an expression that was mixed with disappointment and exhaustion, "That's okay." You offered, squeezing his hand as he'd done yours earlier.

"Do you want a ride home?" You asked him, nodding your head toward your beat up, second hand car that the pair of you had already made several memories in since you got it almost a year ago for your sixteenth birthday.

The brown haired boy only shook his head, giving you a soft smile and nodding towards the bike racks, "Nah, I brought my bike today."

Nodding in understanding, you leaned up and pecked his cheek while you let go of his hand, "Alright. Since you're gonna be late I'll pick up the movie for tonight myself. You just meet me at my place whenever you're ready, Kay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Letting out a soft laugh he watched you walk to your car, already missing your warmth beside him.

The first thing you noticed upon pulling into your driveway was the slick black car that was parked beside your mother's blue one, in your usual spot. The car was new and you didn't recognize it, you quirked an eyebrow, putting your car in park behind your mother's, grabbed your school bag from the passenger seat and got out with a slam of the door.

As you entered the house you were met with the sound of voices floating from the kitchen, picking up on the hushed conversation as you made your way towards the three voices, "You need to tell her." One said, a man. "It's too soon." Another sounded, you recognized the voice to belong to your father. "No, he's right, if what he says is true she's going to get caught up in it either way. Especially now the Argent's are in town." That was your mother. Your eyebrows furrowed, you could only assume that the 'she' they were talking about was you but what you didn't understand was what exactly they were debating telling you and why it had anything to do with the Argent's, were they talking about the Allison girl who had just joined your class?

You pushed open the kitchen door, eyebrows knitted tightly together, your brain taking a second to catch up with who your eyes were seeing, "Derek."

The name left your lips in barely a whisper when your eyes landed on the dark haired man leaning against your kitchen counter with a small smile playing on his lips as he greeted you, "Hey, kid."

Without wasting anymore time you launched yourself forward, arms wrapping around Derek's middle as he let out a sigh, his own arms moving around you slowly to reciprocate your action with a tight squeeze.

"I missed you!" You exclaimed punching the older man in the shoulder once you detached from the hug, expression turning accusing after a moment prompting Derek to purse his lips and brace himself, he knew that look, he hadn't seen it in a while but he knew it. That was your "I've got a bone to pick with you" look, Derek had to fight off the smile that threatened to grow on his lips when he realized that this particular look hadn't changed since you were five years old.

"Do you want to tell me why Scott McCall got to see you before I did?" The man under fire let out a defeated sigh, "If it makes you feel any better I would've rathered it be you that I bumped into." He responded halfheartedly, letting out a huff you turned towards your parents who were sat at the dining table.

"What were you guys talking about before I came in?" You questioned, feeling nervous as the three adults suddenly went rigid, glancing between each other before Derek nodded his head in your father's direction, silently encouraging him to tell you what they'd been discussing earlier.

Letting out a heavy exhale through his nose your father motioned for you to sit down in the chairs across from him, Derek moving to sit beside your father in front of you as you did. "This is going to be hard to believe but I need you to keep an open mind while we explain, alright?" You only managed a nod of your head, nerves ever-growing as you waited for someone to elaborate on whatever they were about to tell you.

"You've heard of werewolves haven't you?"

"Sure." You responded confused, the question seemed out of place in what you assumed was to be a serious conversation.

"Well they're real." Your father responded. You couldn't stop the snort that left your mouth, breaking out into a fit of giggles before you noticed the three adults before you looking at you with absolutely no trace of amusement. "Wait you're serious?!" Your eyes almost bugged out of your head as Derek's eyes flashed blue and he bared his teeth in response to your exclamation.

"...So the howling Scott said he heard in the woods?" You trailed off, eyes wide as Derek nodded his head, "it was a werewolf."

"You?"

"No. An alpha."

Eyes never leaving Derek, you posed another question, "Is this why you're family called themselves a pack?"

The man nodded, not being able to get a word in edgewise while you continued to fire out question after question, "You guys always said I was the littlest of the pack does that mean-" Your mother cut you off with a light chuckle, "No babe, you're not a werewolf." A sigh of relief left you when you slumped back against the kitchen chair, a small twinge of disappointment flooding through you, that would've been cool.

"You may not be a wolf genetically but you're still a member of our pack." Derek assured you, sensing your disappointment. "Are they in the pack too?" You inquired, glancing quickly at your parents before returning your gaze to Derek.

"No. Just you." You couldn't lie and say the statement didn't make you feel special but still, it confused you, "Why not?"

It was your mother's turn to speak now, giving the werewolf a break from your constant curiosity.

"Back before the fire your dad and I had a certain role to play in Beacon Hills," she started, reaching for your hand before she continued, "from the minute you were born you bonded with almost everyone in the Hale house, we didn't understand it completely but we assumed it was because of how close me and your dad were to them. I guess they kind of saw you as their newest cub after Cora." Derek chuckled, chiming in with a quiet, "More like runt of the little." Giving him a glare you kicked his shin under the table while he laughed and you nodded for your mother to keep going.

"Anyway, as you already know me and your dad met in college- studying Mythology. We uncovered supernatural occurrence after supernatural occurrence and those supernatural occurrences eventually led us here, to the Hale's." She told you, looking to your father for him to continue, he cleared his throat before speaking, "We got caught up in it, built a huge repertoire of supernatural entities, including werewolves, I met Peter and we made a truce, ended up becoming best friends in the process."

Nodding your head slowly you spoke up again, "So you guys were like… their supernatural encyclopedia?"

"Pretty much." Derek answered.

"Okayyyy… but that still doesn't answer my question, why am I in the pack and not you guys?" You posed the question to your father who looked at your mother nervously.

"When you were four things got messy, really messy," Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes muttering "understatement of the century" under his breath as your father went on, "Your mother got captured by hunters, Chris Argent and his little gang of merry men." He tensed his jaw, saying the name through clenched teeth before composing himself, "So your uncle Peter made the executive decision to initiate you into the pack to make absolutely sure that nobody would get their hands on you."

"Why?" The three of them erupted into laughs at the look on your face, Derek opting to answer the question, "I don't know how you did it but you had him completely wrapped around your finger. Peter is the most selfish person I've ever met but he would've sooner died himself than let anyone touch a hair on your head. As part of a pack members protect each other at all costs. With you officially a member it meant that we were bonded to you, you were one of us." The mention of Peter made you smile, not that you'd admit it to Derek but you felt the newly exposed pack bond strongest with Peter, the dots only connecting in your head now years later. Derek picking up on your train of thought spoke up, "That's why you can't bring yourself to stop visiting him."

Your mother's voice cut in again, "Those four crescent scars on the back of your neck are from Peter, it's how he marked you as a member without actually turning you." She explained, your hand absentmindedly rubbed the nape of your neck, fingers tracing deftly over the scars that you often forgot about.

"I know it's a lot to digest but there's one more thing." Derek sighed, a slight feeling of guilt growing within him for having to dump this on you all at once. When you didn't say anything, only looked at him he continued, "The hunters who kidnapped your mother, well they're back."

Anxiety bubbled up in your stomach as you whipped your head to your mom, "Are they gonna try take her again?" Your voice was bordering on sounding manic, Derek's voice quelling your worried before you had a panic attack.

"No. I don't think so at least. It's me and the alpha they're after, and- I trust you not to tell anyone this- your friend Scott too." Your eyes widened yet again, Scott was a werewolf? That must have been why he was seeking Derek out earlier today, "That's why he was looking for you isn't it?" You voiced your thoughts, Derek rose an eyebrow in response, "Looking for me?" You nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, today in school, he and Stilinski started asking me a bunch of questions about why you were here- I told them I'd help them find you." You clarified, trying not to laugh at the exhausted look that came over Derek's face when the name Stilinski fell from your lips.

"Tell him to meet me in the woods later. I need him to help find the alpha." Derek instructed, watching contently as you pulled your phone out of your pocket and began texting Scott, thankful you'd gotten his number.

You: I'm with Derek

You: He wanted me to tell you to meet him in the woods later

Scott: When is later?

"When is later?" You voiced, not looking up from your phone, "After dark." Derek answered and you laughed, "Alright, Bruce Wayne."

You: He says "after dark"

Scott: :/ cryptic much

You: Best I could do wolfie

Scott: He told you??????

You: Yep, I'll fill you in tomorrow there's a lot to unpack here…

Scott: Please don't tell anybody

You: Your secret is safe with me don't worry

With that you set your phone down in front of you, before something crossed your mind, "Wait you said Argent earlier right?" Derek nodded, your mother and father having moved from the table, preparing food in the kitchen.

"Allison Argent just started at my school, I'm pretty sure Scott has a crush on her actually." You informed, shrugging your shoulders lightly, picking up your phone when it buzzed and missing the way Derek rolls his eyes.

Isaac: I'll be over at 7 <3

You: Great what movie do you want me to get?

Isaac: Ladies choice ;)

You: Hope you like Legally Blonde xoxoxo

Isaac: Seriously again?

You: You said my choice no take backs, love you <3333333

The time was 5:45pm and the sky had turned from blue to black, you assumed Derek would be heading off to stress Scott out soon enough so you stood from the table and grabbed your jacket, "I'm gonna go rent a DVD for me and Isaac, you guys need anything?" You directed towards your parents who were messing around in the kitchen like teenagers causing you to roll your eyes but smile.

"Huh? No we're okay. When is lover boy coming?" Your father asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you, laughing at how you groaned, "Stop calling my best friend 'loverboy' one of these days you're gonna slip up and call him that to his face and he'll literally die of embarrassment on the spot!" You yelled, cheeks burning and expecting your mother to come to your defense only to have her laugh along with your father, "Yeah, don't talk about your future son in law like that."

"God, you two are the worst. Derek tell them to stop harassing my friendships." The dark haired man rose an eyebrow from his seat, a strict look on his face, "She's too young for a boyfriend."

"Thanks, Derek. That was absolutely not helpful at all, but thank you." You muttered, grabbing your car keys and heading out the door.

You loved your parents, adored them, they raised you incredibly- that didn't mean they didn't annoy the hell out of you sometimes, though. They had about fifty names that they liked to call Isaac instead of his actual name, the most popular being "loverboy", "heart eyes", or your mother's personal favorite "future son in law." You supposed it was good that they liked him enough to consider him a future son in law, however, it was pretty insensitive when they could clearly see that you were painfully in love with him and fighting with inner turmoil because of it.

After a five minute drive you pulled up to the video store, stepping out and noticing Lydia Martin in the car next to you, you made brief eye contact with the strawberry blonde and the pair of you exchanged friendly smiles before you entered the store. Lydia was nice but you noticed she wore a facade around school, more specifically around Jackson. You remembered quite vividly how she shot Isaac down rather brutally back in freshman year. He'd only asked her out to prove a point to you, you couldn't remember what now but you'd gotten in some form of argument and the resolution you'd come to was that he prove himself and ask someone out, that someone happened to be Lydia. He didn't really like her but the whole debacle did significantly bruise his ego.

Of course, wherever Lydia Martin is Jackson Whittemore was never far away. You almost laughed when the first thing you heard after walking into the store was the jock shouting about not being able to find "The Notebook".

"It's over there." You chimed in, alerting him of your presence and pointing straight ahead of him towards the movie he was searching for.

Nodding thankfully the blonde made his way toward the far shelf while you walked to the other side of the store.

Despite being across the room, Jackson's gasp sounded clearly making you nearly jump out of your skin. Placing a hand on your rapidly beating heart you just shook your head and let out a long breath. You were probably just hearing things, your mind concocting noises to psych you out after learning the new information about the supernatural, Jackson's gasp had absolutely nothing to do with the snarls you thought you were hearing from behind you.

You had yourself convinced you were just hearing things. That was until the snarls became mingled with hot, slobbery breaths that hit the nape of your neck, shocking you into spinning yourself around. You couldn't help the yelp of fear that left your lips when your eyes met beaming red orbs… the eyes- they weren't human.

What you were looking at you could only describe as a beast. A wolf. The ability you usually possessed to control your breathing left you as you heaved, continuing to stumble back as the creature took steps forward until your back hit a row of shelves painfully. DVDs crashing to the floor in your wake.

The creature was face to face with you now, snout coming in contact with your nose as it's demonic eyes bored into your soul. It snarled as you felt your heart rate increase, it was going so fast you were half scared it would detach from it's blood vessels. Everything about the creature scared you, from its eyes, to it's snarl, to its fangs baring in your face, but what frightened you the most was that you felt like you knew it. There was a familiarity with it and you could not for the life of you explain it but you could feel it.

The scream that left you when the beast finally lunged for you with snapping jaws shook the store as the wolf sunk its teeth into the soft tissue of where your shoulder connects to your neck. The pain you felt was as blinding as the eyes that stared at you, the beast raised it's hair covered paw in the air, fully intent of swiping the last remnants of life from your now limp form before it suddenly stopped, looking at you with so much uncertainty. Not getting a chance to analyze the new look on the things hairy face the creature resumed its position on all fours then crashed out of the store window.

"(L/n)?!" Jackson whisper shouted, from around the corner, only seeing your legs peeking out from behind a row of shelves as he made his way over to you, his movements jittery. You tried to call out but your voice failed you, you kicked your legs out weakly to let him know where you were, not knowing he was already rushing towards you.

"Christ… ok just stay awake I'm calling the police right now." The blond, who you'd never known to care for anything other than himself, spoke frantically- shaking as he pulled out his phone.

Your hearing faded in and out as Jackson shouted at law enforcement over the phone. Tilting your head to the side, very painfully, you began to panic once you noticed the gaping bite that had been taken out of your neck, you whimpered pathetically at the sight of your entire shoulder, neck and hair drenched in blood, your blood. Your panic seemed to rub off on Jackson as he noticed your breath becoming heavier and heavier by the second, tears falling down your face as you stared at your injury in fear.

It was just then that sirens wailed from outside, this eased Jackson's nerves, the boy, you had to hand it to him, didn't leave your side until you were safely in an ambulance- your nerves however were still fried, panic growing by the second as strangers fretted around you, yelling orders at each other and pushing painfully against your wounds. Calm didn't settle over you until one of the medics injected you with a needle, you didn't have a clue what was in it and you didn't have time to theorize as your world turned black.

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf x reader #isaac lahey

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consistencynevermether · 6 months

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Astarion x Wizard! Tav reader

A/N: part 3 of my Astarion with different Tav classes. its magic time baby

summary- 1.1k words, SFW, gn reader

Astarion x Wizard! Tav

Neeeeerd

No seriously, that's Astarions reaction to you being a wizard. You choose to base your entire life around studying? You two are basically like oil and water in a lot of ways.

Ok but in all seriousness, Astarion does admire your dedication to your craft. He sees how much work you put into learning new spells and is genuinely excited when you get it right

It doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop making fun of you though. You're telling him you belong to a SCHOOL of magic??? Need for Academic validation much? Oh and please, if you're gonna wear wizard robes try to make them a little stylish, or he’ll come for your sense of fashion too.

Actually, I bet he’d help you spice up your outfits a little. A thigh slit here, a tasteful gold embroidery there, your not completely beyond hope

Dw tho, you can absolutely get him back. Oh, you need some magical assistance? Maybe help figuring out how a magical item works? Uh oh, looks like the rouge needs the wizard's help after all dontcha astarion?

It’s definitely the highlight of your day when he has to ask for help. Unfortunately, it goes both ways. His speed and skills have definitely saved your ass in battle before

Honestly, it’s giving annoyances to lovers. Plus I’m convinced at least 40% of Astarions love language is sass and knife cat energy.

He enjoys the banter definitely, but it’s never meant to cut too deep. He’s good at reading people, so say you're having trouble learning this one spell and you're starting to get frustrated. He can definitely tell and knows not to make jokes about your magic today. He can’t exactly help, because this man is NOT magically inclined. But he’ll pull you away from the spell scroll long enough for you to take a deep breath and have a break. It helps in its own way because now you can come back to it with a more calm mindset.

You can’t tell me this man isn’t laughing (a little manically) when you cast fireball. I mean come on that’s one of the most entertaining things he’s seen in 200 years let him have some fun

But also-

He secretly finds your powers very cool. I mean there’s something beautiful about magic at its core, he can’t help but be just a little entranced. And you’ve definitely used magic to show off to him just a lil (make a rose out of magic blue light or somethin he’ll scoff but find it endearing)

Honestly, I imagine you two are a slight hoarder couple. I mean you need to have all these ingredients for spells on you, and Astarions a rouge he definitely has like at least 5 knives on him at all times. Also the magic items. You both love to hoard those, just in case they’re useful

If you actually do have some sort of wizard's tower, layer, study, or something Astarion wants to see it

He’ll make a joking excuse as to why he wants to see your lair. And he’s DEFINITELY gonna grab a random cloak in there and do a bad wizard impersonation

BUT-

The real reason he wants to see it is because it’s an integral part of you. It’s basically your home, where you store everything you find valuable, where the pantry is always stocked with the food you like, and where the bed has the exact number of pillows you want it to have. Astarion wants to know these things about you.

I imagine after you finally defeat the mindflayers and everyone goes off to find their own way (or maybe you all stick together and keep adventuring while also occasionally having individual adventures, who am I to break up your found family) you immediately take Astarion to your tower and start working on methods to help him walk in the sun. magic sunscreen? Enchanted daylight ring? Charmed circlet? You've got options and you're not afraid to use them. Anything to make it so that Astarion doesn’t have to live his life in darkness anymore. You jest and say it would be a true tragedy if you couldn't see his beautiful silver hair kissed by the sunrise, but in reality, you were immediately tearing through every tome you owned looking for a solution. After all, who wouldn't do anything for the man that held their heart?

Ok now imagine. You and Astarion just completed a mission, saving some people in the grove with Halsin. And you already had received a message from Wyll and Karlach asking for assistance smoking out a group of assasins that had settled in Baldurs gate. But gods you were so tired. It was nearly midnight when you both decided to crash at your liar instead of heading straight to the location Wyll had given you. You were both covered in mud, twigs, and other “gifts of nature” as Astarion had described them in a voice mocking Halsins. You were so tired your eyelids stung, and everything was hazy. You both more or less stumbled into your study, already half asleep.

Of course, you had become a bit more coherent when you realized that there was only one bed. And two of you. Now this might seem a bit ridiculous to care about things like that considering how close the two of you are and how much you have been through and done together, but now hear me out. This man has spent the last 200 years either not having a bed or being forced to share one. You had both decided he needed some time to just be able to have his own space to sleep, after all, you had all of your lifetime together, and you wanted him to be comfortable, so whenever he had come to your study, he slept on the couch. You had wanted to get him a cot or something of his own at the place, buuut it had kinda slipped your mind entirely. And the couch he slept on was currently covered in about 50 books stacked across the couch, another thing you had forgotten about. Whoops.

You and Astarion both looked at the pile of books on the couch and then at each other. You felt like you were about to pass out where you stood and he didn't look much better. There was an instant understanding between the both of you, that understanding being “fuck it” as you both collapse onto your bed, neither taking off your filthy armor and robes, simply passing out on the spot.

You awoke to a certain vampires face buried in the crook of your neck, trying to block out the sun now shining in his eyes. Eventually, you both dragged yourself out of the small bed and cleaned yourselves up before heading off to Wyll's location, but after this situation you both unspokenly began to sleep in the same bed alot more often.

#astarion fic #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

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what ab a amourex (i cant spell lol) AU where she ends up with christian and what daniels and her life would be like

Omg stop the way I love this. This idea is fricken impeccable. Ok we’re saying Daniel was still banished from England and Louisa never went after him for this AU

(Also I can’t spell Amoureux half the time either dw. I made it so difficult for myself with that title PFF)

It’s fair to say that Louisa did love Christian but she wasn’t in love with Christian and her feelings certainly were rocky after seeing how he could so easily threaten his own brother’s life. Regardless, Louisa and Christian got married the same week Daniel was shipped off to Spain.

Let’s focus on Daniel first. He literally gets put on a ship with his bags and nothing else. Good freaking luck, kid. He gets off in Spain and honestly spends a few nights sleeping on the street which is very out of his comfort zone since he was raised in velvets and gold and silk bedsheets. Definitely gets robbed one night because who wouldn’t rob the tiny sixteen-year-old who is sleeping beside gold-trimmed trunks that are filled with the finest of linens and items. He was literally a sitting duck.

Honestly Amoureux Daniel is so young and naïve and knows nothing about working class life that he probably is downright miserable and I see him suffering a lot…crying himself to sleep on streets…begging for scraps of food in taverns and hostels…and rinsing off in the rivers and lakes (and probably gets nipped by a fish and sends him running naked out of the water, screaming). Poor little baby honestly I’m just making myself sad, but that’s the most realistic fate he would have. He also doesn’t know any Spanish (he never liked paying attention in his lessons with Jonah) so he can hardly even talk to anyone and ask for help.

I think eventually he’d manage to get a job at a hotel/hostel/tavern where he would clean the floors and things in exchange for food and a bed. He grows up there, learns Spanish from being around the locals, and just kind of stays around that small village where he works. He never marries…probably shares a ‘fling’ or two with local girls but his heart still belonged to Louisa so he never let them go too far. I guess in that sense he got the reputation of ‘heartbreaker’ around the village. I mean come on, Daniel’s gorgeous and cheeky and flirty and everyone seems to want him but the feelings are never reciprocated.

Louisa, on the other hand, still has her assured life of riches and as future queen she’s thriving. Well, thriving with a husband she’s not infatuated with. I don’t want to diss Christian too much because he doesn’t deserve to be slandered but literally every single time he kisses his wife or takes her to bed, she’s thinking about Daniel. She’d die before she admitted that, however.

When the next heir to the British throne is born, he 100% looks like Daniel and it pisses Christian off. (Since in this AU, Christian never fell for someone he couldn’t have, he never forgave or understood his brother’s actions). Between the times as well as Christian still being angry at anything to do with his brother, he doesn’t have much to do with his son for a while, leaving Louisa and the nannies to keep the kid busy.

In our main storyline, Daniel and Louisa have six children but, in this AU, Christian and Louisa probably only have two children at most, mostly because she never really wanted to go to bed with him. Like usual royal couples in the early-mid-1800s, they shared separate beds in separate rooms and their marriage was…well strained is a harsh word but it certainly wasn’t happy. Despite Louisa living a lavish life as future queen, there is not much to say about her experiences. She had her place in society as wife to the heir and that was her generally only purpose. She lived in a constant state of melancholy where she wasn’t sad – she had no reason to be – but she wasn’t happy either. I suppose Christian was the same. He eventually became King, had his wife that he had fought for (and banished his brother for), and two healthy heirs of his own, but Louisa’s constant bleakness towards him kept him feeling pretty hollow.

Honestly that would have been their futures…not terribly exciting and not terribly joyful either. Damn though…I’m kind of glad I gave them the future they have in the main AU. Thoughts?

#👑#daniel seavey concepts #christian seavey concepts

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themysteryofwriting · 3 years

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okay, thanks so much! (im the same anon from before) and dw about taking the prompt for your own idea, its your bingo after all. for the bthb request, byakuya and backhand slap seems interesting!!

Sorry this took so long nonie! But it’s finished now :)

A Well-Needed Lesson

If there was one thing Byakuya knew, it was that it was his job to represent the Togami corporation.

That meant no interacting with anyone who was...lower than him. After all, if they were beneath him then there was no need for him to interact with him.

….At least that was the case until Hope’s Peak Academy scouted him for their school. He was the Ultimate Affluent Prodigy for how he had helped his

He knew how it would look for the company if he went, Hope’s Peak having a good reputation for success in the future.

Besides, he could deal with other ultimates for at least a bit. As long as they stayed out of his way, everything would be fine.

At least that’s what he believed until he found out about the Ultimate Lucky Student.

Apparently, the school was running a lottery and inviting one...normal student into the school every year.

Well it was only one per year so he’d probably be fine...at least that’s what he thought until he found out they were in his class. Just great.

He didn’t come to this school to deal with commoners. Well no matter, from what he heard class was mostly optional, maybe that’s how he could avoid them.

And then his teacher rounded everyone up to do an actual class and introduce themselves. Great.

When it came to introducing himself, Byakuya made sure to keep it professional. He didn’t want to be gaining any connections with those below him.

He just wished the Ultimate Lucky Student would get the message.

It seemed he kept showing out of nowhere, trying to introduce himself to him and...be friends. At this point, it was starting to annoy him.

Especially when he started to relax for once and then that annoying Lucky Student would come out of nowhere and bother him using the lame excuse of ‘helping Kyoko with class rep stuff’.

So no one could blame him when he finally snapped one day.

“For someone who’s not even supposed to be here, you sure make quite a lot of ruckus,” Byakuya said, glaring at the Lucky Student in their class. The said Lucky Student looked up in confusion and looked up at Byakuya. Byakuya only glared more. Did he really think he was of the same status as him?

“Were you talking to me,” he asked, slightly confused.

“Who else would I be talking to,” Byakuya said, “Everyone else earned their place here through hard work. You just got lucky. You don’t even deserve to be here and yet you’re making such a ruckus like you belong here like the rest of us.”

“But I-,” the Lucky Student tried to respond.

“Did I say you could respond? This isn’t a conversation, I’m just telling you what someone should have told you once you started attending hopes peak.”

The lucky student went quiet. Quieter than Byakuya had really heard him be in a while.

He noticed the Pop Star immediately rush over to him and try to comfort him. He just rolled his eyes and tried to go back to the book.

He didn’t notice the shocked looks on nearly everyone’s faces. Everyone besides Kyoko.

Byakuya was already back in his book so he didn’t notice how Kyoko quietly stood up and walked over and stood in front of his desk.

Kyoko seemed to hesitate for a second before taking off one of her gloves. Byakuya did hear the gasps from when she took it off but didn’t look up.

At least, he didn’t look up until Kyoko slapped him hard against the face.

Byakuya almost fell from the impact but was able to regain balance.

“Master Byakuya,” the Book Germ cried out.

“What was that for,” he called, glaring at Kyoko.

“I believe you know exactly what that was for,” Kyoko said as she began pulling her gloves back on, “Naegi has the same right to be here as the rest of us and you have no right to talk to him like that.”

And with that Kyoko walked over to Lu-....Naegi.

Leaving Byakuya to his thoughts.

#danganronpa #danganronpa thh #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #sayaka maizono #kyoko kirigiri #toko fuwaka #backhand slap #byakuya is an asshole

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

Text

Kiss and Tell pt3

And a stunning conclusion! If you miss the beginning, you can find it [here] and if you need a refresher pt2 is [here]! Are we ready for some happy endgame Analoceit?

Summary: The number Three is a tricky concept to learn. Virgil walks into a party and tries anyway.

Words: 4778

TW: Cursing

Quick Taglist: @cerberusisspot @never-end1ng-suffering @chelsvans @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @thenaiads @treasureofpriam

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

It feels like the start to a joke: Virgil Storm walks into a party and asks to kiss his ex boyfriend. Except that the punchline is Virgil, himself, and its not supposed to be metaphorical.

He picked up a few things from Wit Protect: crippling anxiety, a willpower to hold grudges far longer than an average person, and a healthy dose of masochism.

Because he just had to ask didn’t he? Couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself, couldn’t keep his tongue in his head and the words in his throat and the smile off his own stupid fucking face. There’s something wrong with him, that much is obvious. Because he asked and expected Logan to punch him, expected Dee to kick him, expected all their friends to jump between them and shout at Virgil to get out and go away and never to come back again.

And he still had asked. And waited for that pain that tore deep into his chest and ripped apart his fragile little unlovable heart.

He had asked.

Virgil Storm walks into a party, forgets, for a moment, how to count and asks to kiss his ex boyfriend.

1 + 1 = 2

Logan + Dee = a happy couple

And Virgil had no right to be coming in and ruining that.

(Like he ruined everything else too: ruined Mom and Dad’s marriage as a happy little accident, ruined Dee’s life by just up and leaving without an explanation, ruined the first and second safe locations because he couldn’t remember a stupid name, ruined, ruined, ruined.)

Virgil had come back to town a week before school started. He had been sick the entire week, feeling feverish every time he stepped out of the house. The park had been updated, so the swings that he and Dee had played on as kids were replaced with new ones that didn’t screech when someone used them. The bakery his mom and him used to visit before school was now a coffee shop and the pastries weren’t as good. The old man who ran the grocer in town had a stroke and so his nephew ran the place now.

The Watertower was a new color. The library had a new statue outfront. The paint studio was boarded up.

Their treehouse was decrypted.

Virgil had walked alone with his hood up and he had been terrified of running into someone who remembered him.

He felt like a kid again: keeping his curtains drawn because that meant that no one would come peeking at him to see what he was. Keeping his curtains drawn because he didn’t need any friends.

Keeping his curtains drawn and wishing someone would come anyway.

Last time it had been Dee.

(Dee’s house is different too. Looks like his mother gave up on that vegetable garden.)

Dee who should hate him, Dee who would hate him, Dee who had a perfectly good and fine life without Virgil in it again.

Which Virgil knew, because he had a heart attack when he heard that laughter outside the library, that unforgettable laughter that preened and danced in the air like some kind of fairy to enchant all that heard it. Because he’s heart had stopped when he saw Dee standing there, amidst a group of people, of friends that Virgil didn’t recognize, smiling so very brightly, arms linked together with the others to prove that he belonged with them. Because his heart shattered when he watched Dee lean over and kiss another boy right on the lips.

Virgil Storm walks into a party and wishes he could hate Logan Ackroyd.

But the guy is just...fucking perfect. Its a different kind of perfect than Dee is. Dee is a magician who could make the sadness disappear, who could pull reasons to keep fighting out of his sleeves, who could turn a sniveling pathetic little kid into a lovesick teenager who thought he knew what the hell “forever” meant.

Logan’s not like that. He’s cold hard facts, with no time for those who don’t want to listen. He’s a preacher and Virgil didn’t realize he wanted to be at the front of the audience until its too late. He’s the teacher that makes him write an essay in class and then gives him a fucking gold star because he managed not to fuck it up too bad and somehow Virgil still thinks about it late at night, guiltily enjoying the pleased feeling in his chest.

Virgil wants to hate him, because Logan was everything he wanted to be: smart, collected, happy, with Dee.

He shouldn’t have come back. When Agent DW placed the folders in front of him after his dad’s trail was completed and all the guys trying to kill them had been jailed, and when she had asked him if he wanted to stay in Bumfuck, Wherever with the name Andy, or go back home as Virgil…

Virgil Storm walks into a party and thinks that if he’s ever called Andy again he’ll commit murder and join his father in jail.

Isn’t it strange? Isn’t it awful?

Logan and Dee should hate him. He breaks everything he touches.

Why had he asked to kiss Dee?

Because he knows he doesn’t have a place here, doesn’t deserve a place there. He doesn’t want a place there.

He doesn’t want-- not like this.

Not where Logan has look from the sidelines, or Dee has to watch Virgil take this good, happy thing him and Logan have and crush it. He doesn’t want something like this, if it means one of them ends up in tears.

1 + 1 = 2

That’s what his teachers told him.

Virgil already left once. Virgil already took himself out of a relationship once, removed himself from the problem, erased his own existence from the variables.

Its a word problem and Virgil knows this one well: Logan is the oranges and Dee is the apples and Virgil can pick one, or the other, or none. And even though he’s a Starving African Orphan he knows picking one is going to leave the other to rot away and he won’t-- doesn’t-- fucking can’t--

Maybe it was supposed to be a goodbye kiss? Its a reach, Virgil knows because he’s never been good at goodbyes and he fucked up the only ones he got: a paper note really? A roll of his eyes as his dad was carted away? A two fingered salute to Toby who had still be reeling from the idea that Andy was a work of fiction that he had been hanging out with for seven years?

Dee had deserved a goodbye.

Virgil had put his tongue in his mouth instead.

He’s a masochist (who liked ripping his own heart out again and again and again).

Virgil Storm walks into a party and now he’s still sitting there as reality comes careening back on him, a tsunami to drown him, a bag to suffocate him, a guillotine to decapitate him.

Because Virgil hadn’t thought about consequences and Dee had pushed him away before fleeing the scene and Logan had to sit there and watch. And the world feels like its too small, and the air feels like its too thin and Virgil feels like he just threw himself through a glass window into a freefall waiting for the ground to smash the rest of him to bits.

Dee ran off.

And Virgil is staring at Logan.

Roman is punch drunk out of his mind, laughing as he stares at the billions of pictures he just took. Remus is slung right over Patton wheezing with his joy. Patton has tears streaming down his face and pink cheeks and happiness glowing off him. Emile is trying to spin that stupid bottle and Remy is fighting over it with him.

And not one of them seem to be aware of what just happened. Virgil’s not sure a single one of them could tell him where they are, what their names are, who he just kissed.

But Dee ran off.

And Logan is staring at Virgil.

“I--”

He means this. He means this more than anything. Why can’t he say it? Apologize, damnit.

“Go,” he whispers, not even sure that he can be heard over Remy’s stupid music.

Because Dee ran off and Virgil is here and Virgil isn’t going to make Logan choose like this. In a decision between his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s colossal fuck up of an ex, there isn’t even a choice to be made.

Shouldn’t be a choice to be made.

Logan is blinking at him.

Logan is walking towards him.

Logan is grabbing his hand.

“Come on,” Logan says.

Virgil Storm walks into a party and he’s still trying to figure out how to do math.

Because 1 +1 = 2 and Virgil learned that when he was six fucking years old when Dee had knocked on his door and demanded at Virgil come out and play with him, and then again when he was ten when he was so scared of graduating elementary school and Dee held his hand the whole time, then again when they were twelve and Virgil slammed their lips together while they were in the back of that Movie Theater before he could chicken out.

Dee + Logan + Virgil does not equal 2.

Virgil knows this. He knows that Logan knows this, because he and Logan share their Calculus class and have cursed out their homework together many times. If Logan can do three digit multiplication while drunk, he should be able to see that 3 is more than 2 and one of them needs to go.

Its pick and choose and and and

And Logan’s hand is tight around his, warm like an open flame, and strong like someone who knows what he is doing. Because it is Logan Ackroyd and Virgil’s only known him for a handful of months but he’s the most put together person he’s ever met, the person that never lost sight of what he wanted before, the person who always had a solution.

The person who had invited Virgil to sit with them at lunch and then refused to let it be awkward when everyone else had whispered was that a smart idea, Logan, don’t you know who this is? Don’t you know what he did? Don’t you know what he is to Dee?

Virgil Storm walks into a party and wishes he could tell anyone why he kissed his ex.

But he doesn't know why. The bottle had landed on him and Dee had just looked so smug about getting Logan out of the game and someone had to take him down a notch, didn't they? Someone had to defend Logan's honor?

But wait thats not right, because this was a game and it was fun until Virgil forgot that he left Dee without a warning and then showed back up just to threaten this relationship that he and Logan have. He doesn't have a right to kiss anyone, not Dee, not Logan.

He tries to dig his heels into the carpet, tries to wretch his hand from Logan's, tries to stop the world from spinning so much.

He thinks that maybe the universe is laughing at him. What a ridiculous notion, thinking that Virgil can stop ruination before it comes.

Logan drags him down the halls of Remy's house right after Dee, and finds the bathroom empty with the lights on and the door open and the toilet filled with vomit.

And the window open.

And, oh.

Dee jumped out a window to get away from Virgil, didn’t he?

"Come on," Logan says.

Virgil stumbles after him: back out the bathroom, back down the hall, right past the party and straight for the front door.

"Be Safe!" Patton yells after them (followed by a delighted shriek when Remus presses a multitude of cursory kisses into his neck).

Virgil Storm walks into a party and Logan Ackroyd drags him right out of it.

It seems so stupid, doesn’t it? Logan taking Virgil with him, holding his hand, being a steady center of calm while Virgil just wants to cover his ears hunch his shoulders and scream until the memories of Dee are gone and he stops….fucking… trying to… fucking ruin… This. Them. Here. Now. Whatever.

The city is so big now, bigger than when they were kids: Virgil doesn’t know where Dee would have gone in a disgusted panic, in a horrified frenzy, in whatever it was that Virgil had made him feel. At one point it might have been their fucking treehouse, the movie theater backlot, the icecream aisle of the grocer staring at the stupid fucking popsicles. But Virgil doesn’t know Dee anymore, doesn’t know this town, doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Dee could have gone anywhere to get away from him.

Except that he’s just on the ground next to Remy’s mailbox, one hand clutching the grass, the other a fistfull of hair and shaking like all of his bones were trying to leave his skin at once.

Its cold, Virgil realizes a second later. Its cold because its December and they’re outside wearing jeans and T-shirts and not a single coat between the three of them and its night so of course its fucking cold--

Logan plops onto the ground next to Dee, narrowly missing the mailbox and Virgil tumbles down after him.

There are over seven billion people in the world, Virgil knows this, but somehow all he can do is count the ones in front of him.

1, 2, 3.

Dee, Logan, Virgil.

It doesn’t equal 2. Can’t equal 2.

And Virgil still loves the feeling of pain, loves tearing his heart apart, loves watching Logan be soft and Dee be happy because he’s not and won’t ever be necessary for them--

“I--” Virgil says just as Logan cups Dee’s face with one hand. The other is still weaved between Virgil’s fingers like some sort of knot project. Virgil tries to let go-- he does-- but Logan just tightens and squeezes and does not let him let go.

Dee is shaking and crying and Virgil thinks that anyone who ever said that someone is beautiful when they cry is a fucking idiot. There was nothing pretty about see him in the moonlight leaking tears like a garden hose and covered in snot and curling on himself like his own arms are the only things stopping him from shattering apart on the lawn right now. There’s nothing gorgeous about the way his eyes are puffing up and his make up is smearing and his breaths are short and fleeting and fully of incoherent apologies.

There’s nothing heart warming about seeing him sobbing.

“Breathe with me,” Logan commands. “Dee, Inhale with me. One… Two… Three--”

Dee shudders. And tries and tries and tries but every breath is choked and wet and rattling.

And Virgil.

Virgil has no right to be doing this, but he flings his chest against Dee’s back and presses against him because pressure had always been one of the things that Dee liked when he was not-okay. How could Virgil forget, when so many of their days in that treehouse included him and Dee lying on one another musing with each other’s hair or scrolling on their phones or soaking in the silence?

Dee’s breath shudders, stops, and then he inhales. Logan counts steady as a metronome, steady as a time passing, steady as the Earth turning.

1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3, 1, 2

Dee stops sobbing and his shaking decreases and his hand loosens on his hair just enough for Logan to reach up and untangle his fingers.

“You’re doing good,” Virgil whispers in Dee’s ear, because that’s what he needs to hear isn’t it? That’s what Virgil wished someone would say every time he crammed himself in his closet and willed his lungs to just fucking work when his Mother didn’t know or care or understand what was going on.

Logan counts. Virgil whispers. Dee breathes.

1, 2, 3

Logan’s hands are holding them both. Dee is leaning back against Virgil like he’s the shield between Dee and insanity and Virgil isn’t sure why he’s still there and can’t remember how to leave.

“I think…” Logan starts which is almost comical because when doesn’t he think? “I think we need to talk.”

“Talk,” Dee repeats, hoarsely. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Yeah,” Virgil says.

They don’t say anything.

Virgil knows what he needs to do. He knows that he needs to pull back, needs to untangle himself from Logan and stop draping himself over Logan’s boyfriend and go back into the house to get his coat and shoes and maybe a blanket for the other two before he starts that trek back to his apartment. He knows that he needs to go because he doesn’t belong and he needs to call Agent DW and get her to find him another place to live again because-- surprise-- he ruined this one too.

Virgil tries to shift back, but Dee follows him.

“Don’t--” Dee croaks.

Virgil stops moving. Because Dee sounds so fragile, because he never sounds fragile, because its was Dee.

“Please…” Dee whispers, “Please don’t.”

And, well, Virgil is a masochist who hates himself. What other option does he have than to stay and await for the speech of telling off that Logan is preparing?

Virgil’s seen Logan tear into people, he’s seen Logan put people straight, he’s seen Logan stand on tables and slaughter the morons who dared go against him. He and Dee had that in common: their words were weapons and they knew how to use them.

“I--” Virgil says, “I’m--”

Sorry? Not Sorry? Sad? A fuck up?

“Did you mean it?” Logan asks.

And Virgil’s chin is on Dee’s shoulder and the cold breeze blows straight through him.

“Virgil,” Logan says patiently impatient, “Did you mean it when you kissed Dee?”

Virgil knows what he has to say. What he’s supposed to say. What he needs to say.

“It was a goodbye kiss.” “It was an apology.” “It was part of the game.” “It wasn’t meant as anything.” “No, I didn’t.”

“You fucking liar.” Dee growls at him, miserably. (Aren’t they all miserable right now?)

And really what did he expect? Dee knew him better than he knew himself.

“Virgil.” Logan says.

“God, Fucking Shut Up!” Virgil snarls, “Both of you! Shut Up! Stop Asking Me if I Liked Kissing My Ex!”

“Did you?”

“SHUT UP!”

“That’s not an answer!”

“Fuck Your Answer!” Virgil throws back, and maybe its the hysteria talking because his voice is louder than he meant, louder than it should be with the three of them so close they are touching to keep warm. How can Virgil cover his ears and block out the sound of Logan’s accusing voice without pulling away from Dee or letting go of Logan’s hand?

“Why Does Anyone Need an Answer?” Virgil snarls, “What Does it Matter At All? You’ve Got--” He chokes because of course he does. And isn’t that an answer all by itself? “You’ve Got--”

Seven years ago, Virgil had entered Witness Protection with his mother when his father agreed to testify against the “shady organization that promised him big money to help put Virgil through college”. Seven years ago, Agent DW showed up on his doorstep ten minutes before he was set to meet Dee at the bus stop and took his phone from him. Seven whole fucking years ago, Virgil Storm was ripped out of time.

And things are different now: Dee is different, the town is different, life is different.

And Virgil feels like he’s playing the longest game of Catch-Up since Captain America himself. How can he belong when everyone around him is years and miles beyond what he remembers?

“You’ve got each other,” Virgil says, finally, miserably.

Dee can’t turn to look at him, but Virgil can feel the way he’s tensing and closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see the way that Logan is staring at him.

1 + 1 = 2

“What’s wrong with three?”

Three? Its a prime number, its an odd number, its one more than 2? And bad things come in threes don't they? A man, a woman, and the son they didn't want; a treehouse, grape popsicles, and a movie theater that sells overpriced candy; a party, a bottle, and a kiss that's still tingling on Virgil's lips.

So Virg startles a laugh. What else can he do?

(Leave, let go and leave and never come back.)

He blinks back a sting behind his eyes, one he's familiar with-- dontcrydontcrydontcry-- and suddenly right in front of him is Logan.

Logan, whos eyes swim with galaxies in them, who's pale skin drinks in the moonlight and glows like a lighthouse to bring him home, who's voice is a tremor in the night, a general with the power to raze countries. Logan, who's so close Virgil can see through the fog of their breaths and feel his warm exhales on his nose and cheeks.

Virgil breath catches in his throat. He can see each individual eyelash on Logan's face. Surely that must be because Virgil is still clinging to his boyfriend--

"I want to run an experiment," Logan's lips move smoothly, softly, barely more than necessary and Virgil can see his tongue flicking around the alphabet soup of syllables.

Logan leans closer. Virgil stays still, transfixed on those lips, and pressed against Dee's shoulder. This is a mistake, isn't it? Maybe Logan hit his head on the Mailbox and now he thinks Virgil is Dee and he doesn't really mean this at all and they need to take him to the hospital before he dies of bloodlo--

Logan's nose is touching his. "May I?"

And whatever sound Virgil makes is pitiful, and pathetic, and embarrassing, and a "yes, please."

Logan kisses him, is kissing, kissed him. Virgil finds a new meaning in the term "seeing stars" because right then his eyes are dazzled with sparkling diamonds and bursts of colors. It does something to him, makes his heart race and leap into his throat, makes him lurch forward because its not enough, he's not close enough. Logan’s fingers twists around him and Virgil thinks that he should be freezing but his palm is clammy. And his other arm snakes around Dee’s waist before he can even think about what he's doing (does he ever think?).

Logan kissing him, and Dee leaning into his touch and Virgil thinks he died and somehow ended up in heaven.

This--

Oh.

This is 3.

One more than 2.

Virgil Storm walks into a party and somehow ends up kissing his ex’s new boyfriend, too.

Logan's pulls away slowly, like a hesitance, like a regret. Virgil thinks he licks his lips, breathing so warmly, looking so flushed-- flushed? Logan's flushed and shy and soft in a way that Virgil’s never blessed enough to see before.

He coughs, weakly, fakely, and Virgil distantly thinks thats his attempt to regain some form of control. "Well. I believe my hypothesis was correct."

"Nerd," Virgil croaks. "God fucking ner--"

Dee's lips are on his by some magic-like contortion because Dee's back is still pressed into Virgil's chest squeezing all the air from his lungs and last time Virgil checked humans weren't supposed to be able to do that.

"Do shut up," Dee whispers into Virgil's mouth.

Virgil thinks that if he died this isn’t such a bad way to spend his whatever’s-next.

(Dee’s learned new things, Virgil realizes, because he kisses differently now than he had back when they were twelve and so fucking stupid.)

Dee’s mouth moves off Virgil’s lips, dashing across his cheeks and peppering him with featherlight kisses. If Virgil wasn’t so absolutely out of it he might have been annoyed because that was Dee, kissing his fucking freckles and Virgil had worked to hard to cover them with concealer--

Then Dee turns around and drags Logan by his fucking tie into a kiss of their own with Virgil in a front row seat. Virgil’s always enjoyed theater but this is something more: being this close, feelings both of them just inches away-- thats a show he thinks he wants to come back to again and again and again and--

Isn’t that ridiculous? Isn’t that insane?

A week ago, a day ago, twenty minutes ago, this sight would have Virgil’s heart shattering right down the middle and stomping on the pieces and crying because even though it hurt like fucking hell this is what he wanted for them: he wanted Dee and Logan to be happy and safe and, and, and yeah he wanted them to be together too.

But right here, right now? He’s a part of this, and his heart does this stupid- fucking- jump thing when he watches them and his jaw hurts because he’s smiling so damn wide.

God, when was the last time he smiled like this?

He’s feeling some stupid emotion and its so nice and warm and safe that he doesn’t think he can even describe it with actual words (he’s always been a math person anyway). How does anyone describe this feather-fragile feeling, this cocktail of emotions, this atomic bomb of Need that causes him to hold on to all of this when he knows every other person he knows would tell him to let go?

This is something breakable.

And Virgil doesn’t know if it will be him that breaks or if it will be this… thing that he thinks came out of nowhere.

But he’s a masochist and he wants to find out.

“So,” Logan says between gasps for air, “Three?”

Dee laughs and blows a column of white condensation into the air. “Three, definitely.”

1 + 1 + 1 =/= 2

Virgil always thought that math was overrated anyway.

“Three,” Virgil says and it tastes like grape popsicles. Isn’t that weird? Virgil hasn’t had grape popsicles since that summer seven years ago. He misses that taste.

He sends a squeeze to Logan’s hand and Logan squeezes back. He hums into Dee’s neck and Dee laughs like he’s going to cry. Its the three of them together and who would have thought this day would come?

“Uh…” A fourth voice speaks up and Virgil squints up into the yellowed flashlight that’s rolling over the three of them. Its a guy-- must be one of the neighbors, though who knows why he’s out so late at night. “You three okay? I heard some yelling earlier....”

Virgil laughs at him, at them, at the universe. Dee’s shaking, too, something wonderful to learn and feel next to his heart.

“Should I take that as a no?” The man asks.

“Uh, no, Mr. Sanders,” Logan says but he’s grinning like he just achieved immortality. “I mean, yes! But not like--”

“I kissed two boys,” Virgil says, “And I really like them both.”

“Moron,” Dee laughs again.

The man, Concerned Neighbor, Mr. Sanders, looks somewhere between amused and confused. He shifts his weight, glancing beyond them, towards the house. (And Virgil doesn’t need to turn to know that fucking Remy is watching them from the windows.)

"Well you three should get back inside," the Concerned Neighbor says and Virgil gets the feeling he should be embarrassed, but honestly? Who gives a fuck? "Its cold out here."

Right.

Because its the end of December and its nearly ten oclock and jackets were quite literally the last thing on any of their minds.

Oh god what if they got pneumonia from this?

“Unlikely,” Logan says, straightening his tie. “Most likely one of us will contract a common head cold and then transmit it to the other two through an abundance of close proximity to each other.”

“Yes and that sounds completely awful,” Dee says wriggling around as he tries to get up. Virgil lets him go briefly, but snags the back of Dee’s neck before he can go too far. Dee squeaks in a way that is adorable.

“STORM! You fucker! Your hands are fucking ice cubes!” Dee bucks away and punches him in the shoulder before sprinting toward the door with a sharp little smile on his face.

And Virgil runs after him, pulling Logan along because he doesn’t want to let go at all. Its ridiculous. Its silly and hilarious and laughable and, and, and.

And they catch up to Dee right on the door step, bathed in the multicolored lights of the party where Logan gets a chance to snag Dee in a hug and Virgil--

Virgil Storm walks into a party and gets to tell everyone how he kissed both his boyfriends.

#analoceit #sanders sides #Kiss and Tell #virgil sanders #symapthetic deceit #Deceit Sanders #logan sanders #tw cursing #anxceit #loceit #analogical #kissing #Just let the boys be happy #Hmmm might make more for this au #stay tuned #happy ending

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oh-obrien · 4 years

Text

Midnight (B.B.)

Pairing: Bellamy Blake (AU) X Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking and smoking

Word Count: 5,121 (she’s a little short to start off)

Part: ONE

Author’s Note: Welcome to my first Bellamy mini series that I promised would be a college AU because i have zero (ZERO) self control!!! Buckle up for the fluff y’all! Dw some of your other The 100 favorites also make an appearance!

“Good morning, Penelope,” Penny jumped when she heard someone in the hallway, especially since that someone said her name. Other than the Resident Assistants the buildings were still supposed to be empty for another week and a half. Athletes hadn’t even moved in yet. “Oh can’t take a joke still, Penns?” Bellamy Blake approached her, his backpack slung over his right shoulder, the handle to a rolling suitcase in his left hand and a stupid smirk on his face. His stupid signature ‘Bellamy Blake’ smirk, she hated it.

Penny rolled her eyes and went back to hanging up the last few decorations on her first bulletin board of the year. She had picked a ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ theme for the first portion of the semester. The idea had come straight off Pinterest and she would not be ashamed to admit that if anyone questioned her inspiration, but she also knew that the freshmen would love the design. It tended to be a hit, especially since she had used it twice before. (‘Oh yeah I’m totally using WTTJ again, #justRAthings’, she had sent her best friend the night before while cutting out all the pieces she would need).

She had even made safari animal themed door decorations to match. “I also still somehow got stuck in the same building as you again this year,” she walked into her open door to put her tape and left handed scissors away. “Which means I am the only girl on staff in this building this year,” she shook her head. “Because this building is co-ed this year and has a larger guy ratio and I ran into the others yesterday,” she let out a small sigh of defeat.

Bellamy leaned on the frame of her door while he watched Penny gather her belongings, “oh c’mon Penny,” he smiled, “I’m not that bad.” Penny picked up her backpack, filled with most of the small essentials she would need for the week-long retreat their university had sponsored for freshmen resident assistants. “We’ve made a pretty good team the past two years, what’s one more?” Bellamy watched Penny tuck her keys into one pocket on her backpack before she grabbed her own suitcase out of the corner of her room, tucking a metal water bottle into the other pocket on her backpack. “Besides, we can make the common room bulletin board together again!”

“You just use me for my Cricut so you don’t have to walk all the way to the office to cut shit out,” Penny pointed an accusatory finger at him. She carefully tucked one of her lacrosse sticks into her bag after seeing Bellamy had brought his along, she assumed the others would too then.

Bellamy held his hands up in defense, “on occasion it is easier to use your Cricut I won’t lie!” He laughed before reaching back to make sure his lacrosse stick hadn’t fallen out of his backpack. “But I also use you for your study buddy purposes, once again I’m not that bad!” He helped her to press the last few leaves she needed to hang up on to the bulletin board. Bellamy had opted to go for a sports theme for his hallway, but Penny always had better hall themes, freshmen guys were easier to please. When it came to themes, Bellamy didn't have to think hard.

“You’re right Bell,” she let out a long sigh and saw the boy next to her smirk in satisfaction while he shoved his head back into his phone again. “It’s your residents you don’t know how to control that are the real problem.”

Bellamy tripped over his own feet after hearing the statement Penny had made, “my residents are the problem?” he jogged to catch up with her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Penny just shook her head while he fell back into step with her after regaining his footing. Always graceful on the lacrosse field, never off.

“Like it wasn’t one of your residents that fell down the stairs, absolutely plastered I’ll remind you, the first weekend of the semester last year and cracked their head open?” She shook her head while they reached the campus center. Pulling open the door, she held it for Bellamy before following him in. “Or your residents who got caught with pot last year?” Bellamy held the next door open this time, “and it all happens on the weekends I happen to be on duty. How convenient.”

The pair reached the room where freshmen RA’s needed to check in and Bellamy pulled a black ballpoint pen out of his pocket, signing himself in before handing Penny the pen. “Okay,” he clicked the pen closed when Penny handed it back, “but you and I both know I can’t make them stay in every weekend, and beats me where they get the weed!” he tucked the pen back into his pocket. “I actually wanted to start this year off on a good foot you know?” He asked Penny while they sat down at one of the tables in the room. “A nice get away into the mountains, with limited cell service, no gym, no video games and like two of my teammates,” his tone dripped with sarcasm.

“You got a job over the summer for after you graduate, a really good one, you already did start the year off right,” Penny huffed before setting her phone on the table in front of them “Congrats by the way,” she offered the sentiment.

Bellamy’s smile grew at the mention of his job with the Central Intelligence Agency that he would officially start once he graduated in May. “Oh yeah-” he ran his fingers through his hair, “that.”

“Oh yeah that?” Penny mocked. “Bellamy, that is an amazing opportunity! You should be proud of yourself for that,” she added at the end. Penny had landed quite the internship herself the past summer, interning for the New York City District Attorney’s office, but she didn’t like to talk about it much, not enjoying having all the attention on herself.

Luckily, working with Bellamy for the past two years, she knew he shared many of the same feelings. The mutual awkwardness had allowed the two to become comfortable talking about their accomplishments with each other. Much of the campus just knew that Bellamy would be one of the men’s lacrosse captains for the third year in a row and wrote him off as a jock, Penny had been able to get to know him a deeper level though. The two had become quite good friends their sophomore year when they were put on a RA staff together, and their friendship only continued to grow from there.

Penny also felt her small crush on the boy growing stronger over the two years they had already been on a staff together. She and Bellamy had not only worked on the same staff for two years but had also been going back and forth between being first and second in their graduating class, it would be a game of hundredths of a GPA point by the end of the year. Neither truly cared about where they ended up, but it had often come up in conversation between the two.

“Okay and getting asked to apply to Yale Law, Texas Law, Duke Law and UC Berkeley Law isn’t an accomplishment?” He smirked at Penny from across the table. “Y’know I paid attention in training last week when you were talking to Tiff right?”

“Jerk,” Penny laughed lightly while taking a sip of her water bottle. “But yes, I had an almost perfect LSAT score, I’m dying to get into Texas hopefully.” She looked up to Bellamy. “So-”

He cut her off with a long groan, “what?” He dragged the word out in the tone of a whine.

“Jez,” Penny held her hands up, “I was just going to ask if you met any nice girls while you were out in D.C!” Penny laughed lightly when she saw his cheeks heat up a little bit, another groan falling past his lips.

“I mean,” Bellamy shrugged, “the girl who happened to be on my workout team was nice, we talked for a while after we left,” he glared at Penny when he saw her smile grow. “If you let me finish,” he sighed, “it just wasn’t as compatible as we first thought and I’m going to die a college virgin!” He let his head fall into his hands and Penny couldn’t help the small laugh that fell past her lips.

She watched Bellamy lift his head up to watch her through the lenses of his glasses. “You say that like it’s a bad thing or something,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “You also say that like you haven’t had any girls basically drool over you?”

“It-”

“Isn’t,” she shook her head and gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment. “It isn’t a bad thing Bellamy. So what? You’re a Virgin. Me too, and I’m sure a ton of other people on campus are also! That and girls talk about you all the time at lacrosse games” She waited for the boy across from her to answer.

“Wait you are?” He asked, his nose scrunched up in confusion and a slight quirk to his right eyebrow.

Penny snorted through her nose, “uhh yeah!” She let out a long sigh. “You do realize that rumor freshman year was just a rumor right?”

Bellamy didn’t say anything, unaware the claims classmates had made about Penny had actually been a rumor. He remembered a few weeks before spring break their freshman year Penny had cooped herself up in her dorm, lacrosse practices and she only left to go to classes and grab food if she didn’t have anything she wanted in her room. She had mysteriously left campus for spring break early, even taking a few midterms early to do so, and eventually claims started circulating around that she had gotten hit with a particularly bad case of Mono, more commonly known as the kissing disease.

Upon hearing that rumors had started floating around that she had caught it from an upperclassman she had been seen with at a few frat parties, Bellamy decided the drama would be none of his business. Penny had returned from spring break, still run down, sickly and unusually quiet. She didn’t make an effort to address any of the claims, instead choosing to fly under the radar for the remainder of the year.

“Seriously Bellamy?” She shook her head and let out a long sigh. “My doctor thinks I just caught it from someone who had it sneezing or coughing around me. I hadn’t kissed anyone since my sophomore year of high school at that point. It really sucked to hear some of the things that were said in my absence,” she just sank further into her chair.

Bellamy pulled his beanie back on before speaking, “I’m sorry Penns,” he mumbled. “I hope you know I didn’t subscribe to any of that bullshit, I just didn’t really know you then.”

“It’s fine,” she mumbled while chewing on her lip. “Just sucks it ruined my reputation. I went home originally because the doctor here refused to test me for mono because I wasn’t sexually active or involved with anyone in any way. My doctor at home wanted to test me for Mono and a few different Thyroid things as soon as she could, that was why I left early. She knew that if those came back negative it would have probably been some type of blood cancer, we didn’t want to take any risks.”

“Then why didn’t you- why didn’t you clear it up when you got back?” Bellamy wondered out loud. He hadn’t realized the seriousness of the situation and Penny had never mentioned it before, Bellamy had just assumed she left early to be sure she had the easiest recovery possible.

Penny just gave him a small smile, “because,” she shrugged. “It was fun to see how far it traveled, what people had to say about me once they thought I was fucking around with a frat president as a freshman. Jake is actually one of my older brother’s best friends from home.” She referred to the boy who everyone thought she had been with.

“At least people let it go,” Bellamy told her with honesty. He had felt quite bad when the rumors were flying around, but at the time, other than their shared introduction to management class, he didn’t have any connections to her. Once he had been put on a staff with Penny his sophomore year, he learned she was often quite fun to be around and happened to be one of the most determined and driven individuals he knew, other than himself of course.

Their sophomore year, the pair would often spend late nights together in the common room, working on their homework together. Neither really knew much about the other’s major, but they had a similar music taste and an even more similar work ethic. It had been quite easy for them to get along. Bellamy also knew both their residents quietly ‘shipped’ the pair, often asking if Penny was his girlfriend because if she happened to be, it would be ‘really cute’. It had been during finals their spring semester, sophomore year that Bellamy realized maybe he did have some feelings for his co-worker.

The night before their last finals that year they had ordered too much take out from the Chinese place in town and hunkered down in Penny’s room to do last minute studying. Penny had been complaining about her first upper level accounting class while Bellamy tried to memorize all the different ethics codes he needed to know for his final. After taking their finals and finding out they had both received ‘A’s’, they became official ‘study buddies’.

Junior year saw the pair again in the same building as resident assistants, and it again gave them a new batch of freshmen who ‘shipped’ them. There had been multiple nights where residents locked themselves out of room while one, or both, of the pair happened to be on duty and when the freshmen knocked on the door an individual who didn’t live in that room happened to answer. After Bellamy had answered the door to Penny’s room once, revealing one of her residents looking to get back into their room, he had later gone to print something and found the girl talking to one of his residents. “They’re so together!” He recalled the girl telling his resident followed by a small “oh shit,” when she realized Bellamy had heard. He decided not to tell Penny about it, or confirm or deny the statement her resident had made. Instead, Bellamy carried on like he usually did, hoping his feelings for Penny weren’t obvious to her.

Now here the pair sat, senior year, in the same situation, neither able to share their feelings for the other yet. “My favorite seniors on staff!” Carrie, the director of resident life at the university, came up to greet Bellamy and Penny. “Your residents always give such great reviews! We just had to put you on the same staff again this year after neither of you wanted to take a higher position,” she gushed. “And Bellamy congratulations on the job!”

Penny watched Bellamy’s cheeks start to turn red, crossing his arms across his chest and trying to sink further into his chair, “thank you, Carrie,” he mumbled.

“Oh Bellamy you should be proud!” Carried told him with a smile on her face.

“I literally told him the exact same thing!” Penny sat up straighter and threw a playful glare at Bellamy. “The boy is a genius and refuses to acknowledge it for some reason!” Penny watched Bellamy roll his eyes before he turned to face Carrie.

“I’m excited for my last year, a little bit surreal but I’m still excited,” he picked up his phone when it buzzed on the table. Penny watched him pull his bottom lip between his lip before he started typing out an answer, his thumbs moving fast across the screen.

Penny looked up to Carrie who had shifted her attention away from Bellamy, “how’d your summer go then, Penns?” Carrie asked, opting to sit down in one of the extra chairs at the table. Bellamy still seemed very much tuned out to the conversation occurring and Penny sighed.

“Good! I loved my internship, I’m just a little bit stressed about after college,” she started picking at the polish on her nails. “I mean, I have the LSAT scores to get into law school no problem, I just wish I had it locked down already, my life just feels flimsy right now.” Penny had her life planned out since she was in middle school. She would go to an amazing undergraduate university, ace her LSAT s and then go off to law school after her senior year of college. She had also hoped to have a long-term relationship within the time period, but that clearly hadn’t worked out.

“Well,” Carrie started, “your life is anything but flimsy. You are one of the most motivated people I’ve ever had on my staff and I know you aren’t some one who would slack off on your future plans.” Bellamy looked up from his phone when he heard Penny mention she felt unprepared for after college. He knew he had gotten lucky with the guaranteed job, but the last person he expected to be stressed about after graduation plans would be Penny. “You have nothing to worry about, honey.” Carrie stood up and gave Penny a hug before addressing both of them again. “If you two want you can get first picks on the bus for seats !”

Bellamy saw Penny offer a small smile of thanks to Carrie before she stood up, tucking her phone into the back pocket of her jean shorts. “You ready?” She asked Bellamy who just nodded and stood up, sliding his backpack on to his shoulder and grabbing the handle to his suitcase. The pair rolled their suitcases down the empty hallways of the campus center, looking into the eerily empty conference rooms while they passed them. “It’s always so weird being here early,” Penny mumbled.

“Yeah it is quite strange,” Bellamy responded, “but I like it, especially in the mornings getting to just sit outside and relax.” Bellamy enjoyed taking time to himself most mornings, getting up early enough to make himself a cup of coffee and review any work he needed to before beginning his day. “There’s a couple squirrels I have just about eating out of my hand,” he laughed lightly.

“The infamous squirrels,” Penny smiled, “I see them on my runs in the mornings usually.” Similar to Bellamy, most days Penny would wake up early and try to get a workout in. In the early half of the fall semester and most of the spring semester she could get a run around campus in before classes, during the colder months she would be stuck in the gym in the mornings.

Pushing the button that would open the doors to the campus center, Bellamy hummed in acknowledgment of Penny’s comment. “Speaking of running,” he chucked, “aren’t you the senior captain this year?” Bellamy knew that Penny played on their university’s women’s lacrosse team and had gone to support her and his other friends on the team at most home games in the past, he had even gone to a few away games.

“Yeah,” she smiled to herself, “I’m actually really excited for it too! I kinda came in not the best on the team at it, then I tore my LCL freshman year, but I’ve definitely improved tenfold. And you’re the captain of the conference champion men’s lacrosse team?” She looked at Bellamy and laughed while they walked down the walkway that would lead them to the coach bus they would be taking into the mountains.

“First off,” Bellamy dramatically sighed, “stop that, and yeah I’m captain again,” he shrugged the position off. “I’m also the Recruitment Chair for Sig Chi,” he added. Bellamy had been one of the last people Penny ever expected to be in Greek Life, but her sophomore year she had bumped into him at Zeta’s formal and her jaw had nearly hit the ground.

Penny pointed at the letters on her long sleeve and laughed, “no way you’re a Sig Chi?” She asked the question in the same voice she had that night. “In all seriousness though, I despise recruitment,” she mumbled, “I’m VP of finance for Panhell this year though, for some reason I got talked into running for the position.”

“Hey, it’s worth it for Greek Week,” Bellamy reminded her when they reached the coach bus. The pair noticed the driver sitting in the driver's seat, a newspaper rested on the wheel and the door open. “Ready for the next week?” He smiled while tucking his suitcase under the bus.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Penny sighed while Bellamy offered to take her suitcase.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Almost as soon as they had gotten on the bus, Penny had put her headphones in and opted to catch up on sleep. She wrapped a throw blanket she had bright around herself and dozed off. She did not need to be awake for a three hour drive through the absolute middle of nowhere. She got to see it every time she drove to school or home from school, she could go without seeing it again.

All too soon she felt a gentle nudge against her shoulder and slowly opened her eyes, pulling out one of her headphones in the process. Bellamy sat next to her, a sleepy smile on his face and his hair messier than usual. “We better be close if you’re waking me up, Blake.” she let out a long yawn after stretching her legs.

“Like twenty minutes,” Bellamy shrugged while he ran a hand through his hair. “Figured you’d want a minute to actually wake up, though.” He looked rather comfortable himself, his hoodie pulled up higher than usual around his neck and a sleepy grin on his face. He seemed pretty cute even.

Penny carefully tucked her first headphone back into the case it belonged in before reaching under her blanket and pulling her phone off her lap, groaning as cold air got under the blanket. She noticed a number of notifications from the group chat she had with all of her girlfriends and unlocked her phone, turning the brightness down rather quickly afterwards. Scrolling to the top of the conversation she noticed a picture of her and Bellamy asleep in their seats; her head resting on his shoulder and his on top of her’s. It had been sent by Harper and she let out a sigh of defeat. She had forgotten Harper had also been placed into freshmen staff for the year, granted she worked in a different building, but all first year Resident Assistants had been put on the same bus.

‘So they’re just gonna keep doing this shit?’ Harper’s message read.

‘I doN’t LikE HiM!’ A message from Raven followed.

‘Ten bucks they fuck on the trip’ Lexa.

‘I’ll double it.’ Clarke.

‘Ew that’s my brother and suite-mate you’re talking about!’ Octavia had added.

Penny opted to scroll past the nonsensical messages before she saw a screenshot of another conversation sent. She opened it and noticed it had been sent in a group titled ‘Saturdays are for the BOIZ’, absolutely disgusting first off. It had been sent by Monty, Harper’s boyfriend and captioned ‘so they’re not dating?’ and she rolled her eyes.

‘They’ve only been eye fucking since my freshmen year.’ John Murphy had sent the message. Murphy had been one of Bellamy’s first residents and now he served as one of his frat brothers and closest friends.

‘Clarke said 20 they fuck this trip.’ Monty again.

‘Uhhh 40???’ Finn, Raven’s boyfriend.

‘Why are you placing bets?’ Nathan Miller, at least someone would be on her side.

‘Oh shut up Miller!’ Murphy once again. He had always been a shit stirrer, but he had proved to be fun to party with and a very loyal friend.

Penny closed the picture and checked she had service before typing out her response, making sure Bellamy had been paying no attention to her. ‘We’re not fucking!’ she closed the group chat, not wanting to deal with the girls at the moment, before looking to the front of the bus. Tiffany, the first year RA Coordinator had stood up and had a smile on her face.

“As you all know!” She started, “we’re here for a week for a leadership and team building skills retreat,” a number of groans filled the bus, Bellamy’s included. “You and I both know those activities will take up only a few hours of your days, the rest is yours and if alcohol is involved I don’t want to know!”

“What’s alcohol?” Penny recognized Jasper’s voice and rolled her eyes. She knew he smoked quite a bit of weed, often with Monty, but didn’t know he had gotten the first-year resident assistant job until she had bumped into him during move in. He worked in her building on the opposite side, but would definitely add much needed excitement to their staff. His personality most likely helped him get the job, he also worked with the Orientation Team, freshmen loved him.

Tiffany let out a long sigh before looking up at those on the bus again. “Any of you know who went on the Greek Life Leaders retreat last year are going to be familiar with this site,” Penny let out a quiet sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Those of you who did that trip also know that these cabins are pretty small…” Tiffany trailed off at the end.

Penny had been Vice President of Zeta last year and had gone on the GLL trip with her organization’s President. The cabins they stayed in had a small kitchen, a bathroom, a tiny living area and one bedroom with a king bed. Sharing a bed with one of her closest friends hadn’t been hard, but she didn’t know who she would room with this trip. Anyone on resident life staff she felt close enough to room with would be of the opposite gender or already rooming with someone else most likely.

“I know I’m going to regret this,” Tiffany said more to herself than anyone else, “but you can pick who you’re rooming with. It’s two to a cabin!” She had to practically yell the last part over the conversations that had already erupted on the bus.

Penny pinched the bridge of her nose before looking around the bus, but it seemed everyone else already had a partner to room with. She caught Harper and Lexa’s gazes from the row across from her and Lexa winked. ‘Get fucked!’ Harper sent in the group chat and Penny just shook her head, putting do not disturb on.

“So,” Bellamy trailed off. “I know we both went on that retreat last year and know the whole roomies situation here.” Penny laughed at his use of the word roomies. “If you’re fine with it, I’d be down to room with you.” He shrugged after speaking. He seemed a lot more jittery than usual, Bellamy tended to be one of the most cool and collected people Penny knew.

Penny just nodded, “I’m fine with it! Big bed anyway, hopefully I won’t have to kick you out,” she flashed Bellamy a smile. The two fell back into silence afterwards and Penny took the opportunity to look at her phone again. Scrolling past the nonsensical messages she noticed one form Raven that stood out. ‘Now is probably a good time to tell you that we have a group chat called ‘Pellamy’ where we place bets on when you’ll actually get together.’

‘Don’t tell Bellamy!’ Clarke’s message followed.

‘He knows but doesn’t know that you know he knows that you know!’ Only a message that hard to read could come from Lexa.

‘Absolutely Superb!’ Penny settled on before getting Lexa and Harper’s attention so she could flip them off.

“Watch the profanity!” Bellamy quickly covered her finger with his hand which sent all four of the friends into a fit of laughter. “There are children like Jasper on this bus!” He made sure to speak loud enough for the boy who sat two rows in front of them to hear what had been said.

Penny sat up straighter in her seat to see Jasper turn around and glare at Bellamy. “You only had to babysit me at one party, Blake!” He flipped Bellamy off in return. The four other friends started laughing before Tiffany told everyone to quiet down again. Starting at the top of the list alphabetically she began asking for who would be rooming with who for the duration of the trip,

“Bellamy my dear?” She gave Bellamy a sweet smile.

“Suck. Up.” Penny leaned over to whisper in his ear, resulting in Bellamy pinching her upper thigh in return. “Fuck!” She rubbed at the red spot he had left on her pale skin, he knew how easily she bruised.

Looking over to Penny quickly to confirm their earlier decision she offered him a nod, “I guess I’ll subject myself to Miss Penelope for the week,” he let out an over dramatic sigh afterwards. “I’m stuck on staff with her for a third year, what’s another week rooming with her.”

“Don’t call me Penelope!”

Tiffany just shook her head while she wrote Penny’s name next to Bellamy’s, moving on to the next person afterwards. Penny tucked her legs underneath herself again before pulling her blanket tighter around herself, trying to keep the old air out as long as she could. “So like is this you two saying you’re a couple or?” Raven dragged the last word out while she looked across the aisle to where Penny and Bellamy had both shoved their heads back into their phones.

“No, not this again!” Bellamy’s tired voice groaned out while Penny answered by letting her head thud into the glass window next to where she sat, a quiet ‘ow’ slipping out afterwards.

Bellamy snorted out half a laugh while Raven and Lexa high fived each other, laughing as Lexa announced she would be rooming with the other girl. “This is going to be a long as fuck week,” Penny sighed.

“Yes, yes it is Miss Penelope.”

“It’s Penny!” She smacked Bellamy’s upper arm, the sound that resulted being louder than intended.

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake x oc #college au #the 100 au #the 100 college au #ANNA WRITES #btw the 100 owns me right now

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