#little bit of gender for your tuesday evening. as a treat

[denimshortsdean]

1 Cor 13:1-13 And though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels have not love I am nothing

[inkskinned]

you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!

you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.

but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.

so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.

part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.

any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.

(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)

good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.

so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)

you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.

okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.

oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.

[lueurjun]

𝖱𝖮𝖠𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖤. 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇

“=⌕ sim jaeyun x gn!reader. 

⌗ SUMMARY — becoming a tiktoker was never apart of the plan, but here you are, 4 million followers and a love for pranking your boyfriend. 

. . ⇢ LUEURJUN’S NOTES — this is supposed to be gender neutral but if i slipped up at any point then i do sincerely apologise. this probably won’t be written the best, i was kinda sick and had a moment of inspiration. this is super fluffy and cheesy, so brace yourself. 

₊❏❜ WARNING ⋮ uh tears of joy?? i guess.

2021 @lueurjun.

i. 

THE 30TH APRIL 2020 was the day that your life changed in ways that you used to believe only happened in movies. 

Honestly, setting up your phone and telling your devilishly handsome, yet so pure, so innocent boyfriend that you wanted to have a child—whether that be adoption plans or getting pregnant—it was a small prank you decided to pull and film for your group chat. You never had any intentions of uploading it onto the internet, until Jay, one of your closest friends, suggested that you posted it to Tiktok. 

Jake was cool with it, having not expected it to blow up as much as it did. Nobody had expected for you to get over 2 million views and over 600k likes on your first video. Nor did you expect the heaps of requests in your comment section of different pranks to pull on your boyfriend. And that’s where it began. 

That one video was a rabbit hole into what quickly became your career. 

Now, with over 4 million followers, you have created your own little fan base, who have grown to love you, your boyfriend and even your friends that occasionally end up in your videos.

ii. 

The light in the kitchen flickered once as you set up your phone against a bunch of cookbooks that your parents had yet to read. Mentally, you made a note to ask one of your family members to change the bulb when they returned home. Focusing on your phone, which was now recording, you put your thumbs up and turned towards the door.

“JAEYUN!” Your voice echoed through the quiet home, bouncing off every wall until it met your boyfriend’s ears. Brief shuffling could be heard followed by the padding of feet across the floor boards. He was only in the next room, so it didn’t take long for him to appear right before your eyes. 

The first thing your eyes set on was the crinkles in his shirt, suggesting that he had been laying down. His dark hair was hidden beneath a black hat, which he had placed on his head backwards. He was dressed so simple, but you still managed to fall in love once again at the sight of him. You often wondered how you had managed to bag someone like Jake, he was the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t really see why he would want to be with you. Jake never let these thoughts ponder in your mind for too long, since he was always quick to prove to you that you’re everything to him. 

Secretly eyeing the camera, you put on a pout and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Immediately, the alarm bells go off in Jake’s mind. You’re never normally this quiet and it’s rare to see you pout. He frowns a little, eyebrows knitting together as concern washes over his face. Using his index finger and his thumb, he lifts your chin and gently rubs the skin just below your lip.

“What’s the matter?” 

“I just- don’t get mad,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound sad. “But I just think you could’ve been a little bit nicer to me today.”

He had been nothing but an angel to you all day, and you felt horrendous for making him think otherwise, but alas, Tiktok had spoken and they wanted you to do this prank. So, as bad as you felt, it wouldn’t cause much harm. 

“Did I do something to upset you?” He looks genuinely hurt by his own actions and guilt immediately tugs at your heart strings.

You shrug and avert your gaze downwards, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your feet. This was partly to stop yourself from giving in too quickly, you’d always been a sucker for Jake’s puppy dog eyes and you knew if you looked into them any longer, you would stop the prank.  

Jake cocks his head to the side and steps closer to you, nuzzling his nose against the side of your head. You feel his breath fan over your ear and you swear your heart stops beating for a second. His fingers trail over your waist and he plants the softest kiss to the side of your head. 

“I just feel like you’ve been a little mean to me today,” you continue. And he nods his head in understanding, though you know he doesn’t understand at all. Jake doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but if you think he hasn’t been nice to you then he’s not going to argue. 

“I’m sorry, can you tell me what I did to make you feel this way?” 

You lean your head against his chest and bite your lip, it’s hard to contain your smile. With his sweet response mixed with the scent of his cologne fogging up your brain, you have a hard time holding onto your act and he quickly notices. 

“Is this a prank?” He asks, pulling away from you. 

You let the giggles slip from your mouth and nod towards the phone, that you had done your best to hide. Jake turns, his hand still on your waist, and he looks for the camera. Once his eyes land on his figure, he throws his head back and a breathy laugh falls from his lips.

“I should’ve known.” 

Yes, yes he should’ve but you still made up for it with plenty of kisses. 

iii. 

Picking Jake up from football practice had become a ritual. 

You didn’t need to be asked anymore, you’re just always there waiting for him and he loves that. The excited smile on his face whenever he sees you patiently sitting behind the wheel never gets old. Picking him up, as sad as it sounds, has become your drive to get through Tuesdays. They’re not your favourite day of the week, but knowing you get to see a smiley, yet sweaty, Sim Jaeyun at the end of the day gives you more than enough motivation. 

Just like any other Tuesday, you’re waiting. You like to get there early and so, you have about fifteen more minutes until you see your favourite boy walking through the gate. Music plays softly in the background as you lean back and scroll through your comment sections—people are so sweet, though you do get a bitter taste in your mouth when you see people fawning over your boyfriend like he’s a piece of cake. 

You ignore the thirst comments and look through the requests. Not many catch your eye, until you come across a particular one and a smirk appears on your face.  

Fifteen minutes turns into twenty and finally you see your worn out boyfriend heading towards your car. As tired as he never fails to smile and pick up his pace. He pulls open the door and slips inside. You reach over and greet him with a chaste kiss before pulling away.

“How was practice?” 

“Exhausting. Can we take a nap together when we get to your place?” He asks whilst adjusting his seatbelt. 

A nap sounds amazing, and you waste no time in nodding your head. “Before we go, I went shopping today. I picked you up a few things, let me show you.” 

He melts then and there. Reaching back, you grab one of the bags and aggressively tug it towards you, making sure you hit Jake on the side of the head. He hisses and turns to look at you. 

You don’t even apologize. 

“No this isn’t it,” you mumble to yourself. 

You grip the bag and throw it back where you got it from, once again making sure to slap your boyfriend with it. He stares at you, annoyed with your aggressiveness, though you don’t look back at him and instead, you hit him a third time with a new bag but you instantly regret it. You ended up attacking him with the new pair of shoes you treated yourself to and you can tell this one pained him.

Quickly giving up on the prank, you drop the bag and reach over to rub the back of his head. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” 

He whips his head towards you, looking at you as though you had just murdered an entire family in front of him. “What? So you meant to hit me?” 

You drop your hand and retreat back to your seat, attempting to look innocent. Jake then finds your phone, which is pointing right at him and he sees that it’s recording. You feel guilty, having not meant to hurt him so hard, you can’t meet his eye. You are about to start driving again, when you feel an impact on your arm and a yelp parts from your mouth. 

Jake sits beside you, a smile on his face and a bag clutched in his hand. You scowl and he only grins wider. 

“Now we’re even.” 

Oh, he is evil. 

iv. 

On the 10th May 2021, you hit 5 million followers. 

It was a shock, you rarely kept track of your follower count because you weren’t really in it for that ( though you are grateful for every single person that supports you ) so, you really hadn’t been expecting to hit such a huge milestone. In fact, you were so unexpectant, that you were sleeping at the time. 

“BABY!” Your eyes flew open as the bed shook. Jake had jumped on the bed, plastering kisses all over your face. “You hit 5 mill!” 

Disoriented, you blink. “Pardon?” 

Jake chuckles at your sleepy state, even with messy hair and puffy eyes, he thinks you look so attractive. His dark eyes trail over your features as he uses his thumb to rub underneath your eye, almost like he was trying to wipe away your sleepiness. 

“You hit 5 million followers, you did it.” His voice is softer this time, quieter but still filled with enthusiasm. You gape at him, and he laughs. 

“I did?” You ask, pointing to yourself. 

He nods. “You did.” 

The realisation crashes down at you at once and suddenly, you feel your nose sting as tears form in your eyes. Your fingers curl around the fabric of your boyfriend’s shirt whilst the other hand comes up to cover your mouth. Stray tears drop down onto your skin. You can’t believe it. 5 million people followed you. They like your content.

Jake coos at the tears that leak from your eyes like a waterfall. He’s quick to wipe them away, before he presses a kiss to your wet cheek. He’s proud and he’s filled with pride, his baby got 5 million followers and he couldn’t wait to brag to everyone about how talented and cool you are. That’s his favourite thing to do. Jake loves to brag about you. 

You sniffle and press your hands against his cheeks. Gently, you rub your nose against his own. “We did it. It’s your account just as much as it is mine, I wouldn’t have got this far without you. After all, you’re my main prank victim. So, we did it. We hit 5 million together.” 

You weren’t taking all of the credit, Jake was just as involved as you and he deserves the praise. You had done this together. 

“You do know Jay is never going to let you forget that he was the one who suggested uploading it to TikTok...right?” 

You laugh, nodding your head. “Yep. I know he’s gloating in the group chat, right now.” 

And he was. Jay was so proud of you and Jake, but most of all, he was proud of himself because without him, you would have never uploaded that first video. So, you let him have his moment. 

“To millions more!” Jake cheers as he lifts the pizza in his hand, the two of you had decided to celebrate with a victorious take away and a movie marathon. 

“To millions more,” you repeat softly. 

Whether you had 0 followers or 5 million, as long as Sim Jaeyun was by your side, you didn’t mind.

[gh0stfacesho3]

Transfer of Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Gender Non-Specific Reader

Word Count: +3.5k 

Warning: Fluff, mild angst. Professor x Student (College Au, all characters are +18), language, mention of abuse, mention of alcohol. 

Summary: As a Professor in the states, you were used to transfer students. You weren’t exactly ready for this new transfer student who is the son of the owner of Mike Sneakers (we don’t do free sponsors here ) 

   You were especially used to transfer students because you had a doctorate in linguistics. Being this, you knew a plethora of languages, from English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Greek, Latin, and a few native languages. You were always fascinated by languages and how people came up with these mixes of characters and words to make beautiful phrases. Since you were a kid you started to learn other languages. You had a French neighbor in your old hometown which is where you picked it up at age 7. Then, when you were 10, your family took a trip to Mexico which is when you became interested by Spanish. You fully understood the language by age 11 due to your prior knowledge of French. Then this process just continued where you would just learn languages mainly for fun. This lead to you being a linguistics professor who also taught second languages and would take in quite a few transfer kids. This lead to the journey of Jeon Jungkook and it was definitely a wild one. 

   You walked into your office at about 9:00 and placed your laptop onto the desk. You straighten up your outfit before settling in and getting to work. As you looked through your emails, you noticed an email that was about another transfer student. You kind of glanced over it, but didn’t pay too much mind to it, assuming it was just another kid from out of country. As 10:00 started to roll around, your students walked in. Some smiled, others chugged some unhealthy energy drink, some even chatted with you before finding their seats. As everyone found their seats, you looked out to see a new student. 

“You, new kid, come up front and do that cringe introduction.” You chuckle, emitting a chuckle from a few kids. He tilts his head in confusion, probably because he doesn’t speak English. Due to your gesture though, he assumes you want him to introduce himself. 

“You don’t already know who I am?” He whispered loud enough for you to hear in his first language. 

“Actually, no, I don’t.” You responded quickly as you clasped your hands before beckoning him to the front again. He was a little shocked that you spoke Korean so well, being he had no prior information on you. You were used to kids who thought they were all that but something about this kid who was ‘dressed to impress’ rubbed you the wrong way. He walks down to the front and rolls his eyes at you. 

“I’m Jeon Jungkook...23. Korean” He said in English the best he could. You smiled and introduced yourself. 

“I’m Professor Y/L/N, find your seat now.” You responded before turning to the large chalk board and continuing your lesson. After the two hour lecture, you dismissed class. Jungkook was asleep in the back, which made you walk up to him and nudge him. 

“Its lunch time, go eat.” You say as he wakes up. He shrugged off your hand before collecting his things. 

“Filthy commoner.” He mumbled as he shoved past you. You would’ve been insulted if it were true, but it wasn’t. You collect your things and head out to your favorite cafe. Being it was a Tuesday, that class was the only one you had for the day so you treated yourself to some coffee. You notice a bit of commotion outside, but you try to ignore it and sneak inside. 

“Y/N Y/L/N!! IS IT TRUE YOU’RE TEACHING JEON JUNGKOOK?!” 

“Y/N?!?!”

“DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT JUNGKOOK?” 

You were confused by all the bombarding questions so you ran into the café and shut the door along with someone else. You turned to see the brat himself, Jeon Jungkook. 

“What mess have you fuckin brought me into?” You huffed as your back pressed against the door. 

“I didn’t do anything! I just went for a walk and got lost!” He huffed back at you. 

“Why are you so popular?” You asked as you held your hand on your forehead. 

“Ugh, you’re a horrible teacher if you can’t read a simple email. I’m the son of the owner of Mike tennis shoe company.” He responded. You rolled your eyes as stood up and walked in line, happy to see police shows up to wrangle up paparazzi. 

“What? Don’t care about my father’s company?” He mumbled. You go to order your drink and the barista looks confused. You realized you just ordered in Korean. You apologized before trying again. After you pay, Jungkook walks up and tried to get a drink. 

“C-coffee?” He basically asked, leaving the barista to ask a series of question. Jungkook looks over to you for help, making you chuckle. 

“Why should I help? You called me a shitty teacher.” You faked being offended which made Jungkook embarrassed. 

“I’ll pay for you.” He said, making you more than willing to help him. Being you already bought your drink, he just handed you a 20 like it was nothing. 

“That's way to much money Jungkook.” You said as you grabbed your coffee and went to hand him the money back. 

“It’s nothing to me and my father always says to help the less fortunate.” He said before drinking his coffee, which intern made you laugh. 

“You’re a brat but you’re a cool kid.” You say as you sit down and he follows. You quirk an eyebrow at him and he does the same back. 

“Who said you could sit with me?” Making him tilt his head. 

“Who said you got here first?” Jungkook barked back at you. You held your hands up in defense. 

“You’re going to have to get used to me being I will probably be your living translator...also whos your host family?” You waited for his response as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“I-...I’m not sure.”

“You didn’t check your email?” You teased like he did you which seemed to piss him off. 

“I can’t fuckin read English!” Which made you shocked. How could a school send this kid an email in a language he doesn’t know. You hold your hand out for his phone which he reluctantly gives to you. You mumble out the email before getting to the important part. 

“Your father has entrusted Professor Y/N with your care being they have the most experience with transfer students.” You were used to hosting kids but you thought someone of such class would be with, well you didn’t know, maybe someone the kid knew? 

“With you?” He almost sounded disgusted. You were actually upset that you didn’t read that email but you had a rough weekend. 

You sighed, “Look kid-”

“I’m not a kid!” He fussed. He was right. He said he was 23 and so were you. (Seems young for being a professor right, you’re just pretty smart and graduated early) 

“Okay, sorry. But look, you either live with me for the what, 3 months you’re gonna be here? Or ask your daddy for money to live in a hotel for 3 months.” You teased, making him sigh. 

“I’m not talking to him...that's why he sent me here.” Jungkook looked down at his now empty iced coffee. 

You stood up and patted his shoulder. “Then suck it up buttercup. Lets go get your shit and move you in.” 

“Want me to call an Uver?” The boy asked. (again, no free sponsors in this house).

“Nope. My car isn’t too far from here.” You smiled as you walked closer to the college campus. You turned before getting to campus and walked up to the car park. 

He pointed to an abandoned car that has been there for years, “Is that yours?” he teased. 

You smiled as you pulled out your key fob, clicking the unlock button to see a black lambo unlock. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and stared in awe. 

“Come on pretty boy, not scared are you?” You smiled as you hopped in. He scurried into the car with a wide smile. 

“Here I was thinking you were some poor teacher.” 

“I’m a professor first of all, second” you start the engine with a loud purr, “I have my perks.”  You smirked. 

Its been about a month since Jungkook has been moved in. One day y’all were sitting at the table, awkwardly eating dinner like you guys did every night when he got a phone call. You have never seen him smile since the first time he got in the car and besides that, he’s been a pain in your ass more than anything. Good thing is, he’s actually learned quite a bit of English and can order his food in public. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him fussing. 

“No Dad! Please you can’t make me stay here! I am studying and doing my work! This isn’t fair!” He argued, pacing back in forth before heading to his room which was a guest room. “YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP ME IN AMERICA BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF ME. MY PROFESSOR ISN’T MY BABY SITTER, THEY HAVE THEIR OWN LIFE WHICH IS BETTER WITHOUT ME!....you were only right about one thing dad... I’m a bother to everyone around me.” Jungkook finished before in went quiet. You didn’t know what to say. He knew he was being difficult because he wanted to be. He wants you to be upset and kick him out so he can go home. He wants to be out of you hair. You walked to his room and knocked, and saw something you never saw you see. Tears. 

“W-what?!” He sniffled as he turned around and rubbed his eyes. You just walked up to him and turned him around, pulling him into a hug. He was reluctant at first before he finally gave in. 

“You’re a brat yes, but you’re not a bother. And if you’d stop distancing yourself, we might be able to make this extended time more enjoyable.” Was the only thing you could say. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean to you...I just thought if maybe,”

“Maybe if I got annoyed enough I’d kick you out so you could go home?” He nodded to your question. 

“Welp, I’m a tough cookie to crack.” You smiled as you pulled away. 

“God we are the same age but you talk like a 80 year old.” He laughed as he wiped his face again. 

The two of you then go and talk about him and his life back at home. He explains how his grades are slipping and that is why he is forced to stay here longer. How he doesn’t like going to college because it’s not what he wants to do in life. Jungkook explained that he wanted to be a singer and even showed you a few songs he has covered and composed. They were really good in actuality. You agreed with him if he can get English down pat and pick his grades up, you’d help him peruse his career. 

-

It’s now been 3 months and Jungkook is basically speaking fluent English. He is also passing all your classes and is starting to open up to you a lot more. It was Spring break so you decided to go out with a few friends to get a drink. You invited Jungkook but he said he wanted to finish a paper he got an extension on so you just went out on your own. You and all your friends were dancing in the club and downing drinks like fish. You may have gotten a little too drunk being it was your first night out by yourself. Jungkook recently started to get more friends so you had some free time, but you haven’t gone out since he got here which is why you let yourself get as drunk as you did. It was towards the end of the night and the bouncer would not let you out with your keys due to how drunk you were. 

“Move you b-big bo-ouf...” You stumbled as you tried to squeeze past him. He grabbed your arm and pushed you back. You huffed before pulling out your phone and smashing keys in and calling whoever popped up. 

“Professor? Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, concerned as to why you called him after not responding to his text asking when you’d be home. 

“I-im dr-drunk and this fuckin cunt won’t let me out.” You whined as you still tried to squeeze past him. “Don’t-...Don’t fuckin touch me.”

“Look, I’ll get an Uver and come pick you up.” Jungkook said as he got his things and hung up on you. 

You looked at your silent phone with an angry expression,”...bitch” 

Jungkook came walking in and saw you sitting on the floor poking the bouncers leg. 

“Can you get this parasite off of me?” The large man asked looking down at me. 

Jungkook stoops down and helps you up. You stumble toward him before you turned to look at the bouncer and stick your tongue out. You also flipped him off before Jungkook grabbed your hand and brought you to the Uver. You sat by the window and he did the same. You two finally got to your house and he helped bring you up. You tore your arm away from him as you stumbled up the stairs. 

“I’m not a fuckin baby.” You grumbled as you immediately fell on the stairs. The male huffed as he helped you up. 

“Get OFF of ME Jackson!” You pushed him away as tears filled your eyes. “I’m not your fuckin victim anymore!” 

“Y/n?” Jungkook put his hands up and came to you slowly, “Its just me...Jungkook.” You finally started to calm down as you slowly tried to climb the stairs to your home. Jungkook helped you up and brought you to the couch. Jungkook grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the palms of your hand that were scrapped up. He then wiped your eyes and petted your head. 

After Jungkook helped you that night, there was this awkward air again. He felt like walking on eggshells around you. Who was Jackson and why did you say you weren’t his victim. Jungkook asked his classmates around campus and even a few teachers as best he could. He finally found a teacher who was willing to give him a small amount of information. 

“Now, I’m not going to say a lot because it isn’t my story to tell, but Jackson is Y/n’s ex....and let’s say he won’t be getting boyfriend of the year award.” Dr. Nick explained. Jungkook had enough information to make a firm decision. He was going to show you what a man should treat others like. He wasn’t your boyfriend or even considered you that much of a friend, but he felt guilty for living with you almost rent free (even though the school payed for his stay). 

Jungkook went to the store after he was done with classes and picked up a lot of food to make you dinner as payment for all the times you made him dinner. He bought you your favorite candy, or so he assumed because he’d always find the wrappers in the trash. He even bought you a gift card to the coffee shop you love and headed home. Being it was a Friday, he knew you would be home a little later. The more Jungkook thought about it, the more he realized he knew a lot more about you than he thought. Jungkook started to think about all the little things you did for him. How certain foods would pop up more after he mentioned them. How you would cook different meals just for his liking and make sure he had a decent environment to study in. How you would stay up late and call of work a few times just to help him study. Jungkook smiled as he started to mentally prepare himself for cooking. He also hoped he wouldn’t burn your house down because he had very little cooking experience. 

Jungkook starts cooking a dish he often enjoyed back at home: Spicy Ramen with rice cakes and kimbap. The button down shirt he wore to school was now slightly disheveled and stained. He rolled his sleeve up as he looked at the time-- 5 more minutes. Or so he thought when he heard your keys jingle at the door. He mildly panicked before setting up the food at the table and cleaning up quickly. He ran to the door as you finally started to open it and he stopped you.

“Huh?” You asked looking at his slightly sweaty face. “Jungkook if you’re having sex-” 

“AH No no no!! But I have to ask for you to stand out here for 5 more minutes...trust me.” You don’t know why but you did trust him, and so you stood there for 5 whole minutes. You thought about all the possibilities you could walk into: A girl or a guy running out half naked, your house destroyed, drugs...etc.  Jungkook came back looking a lot more put together and opened the door. You were hit with a mix of smells and were shocked. 

“J-jungkook, did you ? You didn’t- no you can’t cook can you?” You asked as you walked in and admired the kitchen. 

“I noticed you’ve been working more and I felt bad for staying here, even longer than expected... So I wanted to show you that I can be a proper man and treat another human being with respect.” 

“I don’t care the reason as long as it taste good...and it looks amazing Jeon.” You quickly wash your hands and sit down ready to eat. Jungkook sat closer to you which you didn’t think much about being the ramen was in a big shared pot. You start digging in but you try to avoid the kimbap. You didn’t know if it had seafood and you didn’t want to take a chance. Jungkook picked up a piece and brought it up to your mouth. 

“Made without seafood.” He smiled before you opened your mouth and took a bite. You smiled as you continued to eat. Jungkook ate as well before making the perfect bite. You even noticed it and tried to follow what he did, but before you could, he offered it to you. You were about to take in the food before you paused. 

“Where is all this coming from?” You asked before taking the bite You smiled and almost forgot you asked a question until he cleared his throat. 

“Well, like I said I felt bad for staying here and being a brat...I also wanted to give you a taste of my culture since you’ve welcomed me into yours.” He explained with a small blush and a smile. 

“Yeah I get that, but what's with that stuff?” You asked pointing to the flower bouquet lined with your favorite candies and snacks. 

“Oh...well the same reason.” He smiled. You were suspicious but you decided to finish eating. You heart was really warmed but he wasn’t that much of a brat. Yeah it was inconvenient on occasion, but he’s helped you a lot. He helps with chores and keeps his area clean, he is good company since you’re always alone, and well...he’s a pretty boy to keep around. Not to mention he saved you from that club when you were piss ass drunk. The two of y’all were cleaning up and things were going good...until Jungkook said the forbidden name. 

“Y/n...who is Jackson?” You almost drop the plate you were cleaning. 

“I fuckin knew you were up to something...Did you go through my room?! My fucking personal life?!” You started to fuss but by the look on his face, he didn’t. 

“When you were drunk, you called me Jackson and said ‘I’m not your victim anymore’...” He paused, looking down before looking back at you, “he hurt you didn’t he?” 

You stared at the wall, looking for the right words to say. “Yeah...he did. And I’m sorry I did that that night...but I’m not a baby. I don’t need your sympathy or your fuckin pandering.” You huffed as you started to leave the kitchen but he grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m not doing this to make up for him,...Nothing I can do can heal those scars. But I’m doing it to make up for me and my actions. And its my way of showing-....” Jungkook trailed off. 

“Showing what?” You said looking down at his hand holding your wrist. 

“It’s how I show affection to people I care about.” Jungkook said the words without really thinking. You were taken aback and pulled away from him. 

“Jungkook...I-” You started before he cut you off. 

“I know what you’re going to say. I’m not the first kid to say this am I? And you tell them all the same thing. ‘We can’t be together because I risk losing my job’ and all that...I know.” He said looking down at his feet. You were shocked he even had feelings for you. He was completely wrong because since Jackson, you kept these walls up and didn’t let anyone like you. You normally noticed when people would catch feelings and immediately turn them away...but this was different. You hadn’t realized he liked you because you were to busy pushing yourself away from him. You noticed you liked his presence more which is why you stayed later at work, to push yourself away. 

“Jungkook, that’s not it. I actually really care about you too. But there is the case with work that I don’t know if I can get passed...but I do appreciate this. And I appreciate you so much, but after Jackson...” You trailed off. 

“You don’t know if you’re ready and I understand that...but out of all the people I’ve met, your the one person I wouldn’t mind waiting for.” Jungkook admitted. He didn’t realize how strong he felt about you until he was in this moment. You also didn’t realize how strong you felt until you realized you moved closer to him. You always had your guard up around people, but you realized you were more venerable with Jungkook than with anyone else. You peered up at him to see his eyes were red from holding back his tears. 

You chuckled softly, “You’re such a baby.” You teased making him laugh before nudging you. 

“Yeah well this baby just cooked your dinner so whose baby now?” He retorted. 

“There’s that smile...”You mumbled, smiling as you two just stood there looking at each other. Jungkook’s eyes darted down to your lips before saying fuck it. He leaned in and held your cheeks in his hand. You felt this weird tension finally dissipate. You leaned in closer and placed your hands on top of his. 

“If you think about it, I graduate this year in a few months...so if we wait it out, you won’t have to worry about your job.” Jungkook reasoned as he pulled away. 

“That is true...even if you weren’t, I can always find another job.” You smiled, kissing him again. 

A/n: Sorry if this is a little rough, but I have been on a hiatus for about a year now. Writing is something I love doing but I’ve been so busy with school and have had so little motivation. I really wrote this whole thing within 2 days and I’m proud of myself. If you really liked it, hit that like and share button! If this gets enough love, I might open request again. 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inspired partially by the twitter trend of The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It and just in time for Valentine’s Day! 

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. 

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on KoFi!

__________________________

While sitting in the car, you watch out the window. Folks buzz around you--some folks looking content, strolling about their day. Others are flitting around, a bit of crease in their forehead. And you feel for them. You know those days where there’s just not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Or it’s when one thing sets off a spiral of all terrible things. Or when you just don’t wake up on the right side of the bed. You know that crease all too well because currently you were having a bad sleeping week. 

You were getting tired when you were supposed to but the second you put your head on the pillow your brain was hot wired--keeping you up with all the things you needed to do, hadn’t done, all the appointments you had kept pushing off. It was finding the littlest things to find that anxiety and keep you staring up at the ceiling. Calum noticed the tossing and turning and tried his best to lull you to sleep this week, fixing you tea in the evening, getting you off your phone or laptop a couple hours before bed. He even started reading to you, but your ears picked up on the white noise of everything in the house. Your brain picked up the embarrassing memory that you hadn’t even considered in decades and now holding it in front of your mind’s eye for hours on end during the week. 

Like right now, you should’ve been at home sleeping. Your work was giving you a long weekend and you really could’ve used the time to catch some extra Z’s, but you were, admittedly, a little scared to stay home. Sure maybe you did fall asleep cuddled up next to Duke. But you worried that you’d stay up, worry yourself sick some more so when Calum told you he had some errands to run you immediately tagged along. The time running around would hopefully tire you out enough that when you got home you could actually fall asleep. 

So after Calum’s personal training session in the morning, which you sort of tagged along for, but mostly went through your own routine and getting a solid breakfast, you two were now buzzing around from store to store. Calum had gotten most of the grocery the other day, but he forgot a couple things so your first objective was to grab those and bring them back up. He then had to go to the post office to mail out his mother’s birthday cards and a few other things. 

While in the line at the post office, your head tucked into his back, Calum got a phone call from a guitar shop on the other side of time about a new model that had just come in. Calum had been eying it for ages, but he didn’t want to be reckless with his money especially after getting some work on his teeth and to the house. So he asked the guitar shop to keep an eye out for when more stock arrived in case it sold out before Calum felt comfortable spending a large sum of money like that again. 

The store agreed to set one off to the side for him and could keep it on hold until the end of the day. Which was perfect--still gave the two of you time to get lunch. You didn’t need to get anything, didn’t need to do anything. But even after lunch, Calum made one more pit stop. Here now at the gas station, you sit peering through the windshield and can see a mother with her two sons walking from the doors. They boys hold brightly colored icees in their hand, each clutching a bag field with goodies. 

You aren’t entirely sure whey Calum needed to stop here for anything. It’s not like he needed stamps, since he got those at the post office. He hadn’t pulled in to get gas. Lunch had been filling, though you tried not to stuff yourself too much just because you knew that on a long car ride, the last thing you wanted to do was be uncomfortably full. 

The door opens again, Calum strutting through with his glasses covering his eyes and resting comfortably atop the chubby cheeks. Barely hanging from the crook of his fingers is a brown plastic bag. The doors click open and he climbs into the driver seat. The guitar shop wasn’t that far, but today seemed to be a busy day on the road. Took you all too long just to get to the grocery store this morning. 

“Snacks?”

“Was craving something sweet after lunch.” 

You peer into the bag as he hands it over to you. Some gummy bears, gum, a bar or two of chocolate you can’t quite tell. You set it onto the floor at your feet. “Let me know when you want something.” But he’s already tearing into a Twix bar when you glance at him. “Or not,” you laugh. 

“The other stuff is for you--if you want to indulge. Can’t forget ya,” he pushes the glasses down for just a moment to wink at you and then looks into the rearview mirror. 

“Do you think you’re going to get this one?” you asks as the SUV rolls out from the parking lot and onto the asphalt of the highway. 

“Hmm, maybe. Gotta see how it feels first.”

You nod at his question, resting your head into the cushion of the seat. And it goes quiet for a while. The radio plays softly in the background, and every so often the packaging crinkles as Calum downs more of the chocolate and caramel treat. 

“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon,” Calum states, while paused in a bit of traffic. “Got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

You think for a moment. Valentine’s Day has never been your thing--being perpetually single does that to a person. “Restaurants are going to be a nightmare.”

“Yeah, they will be.” Another crinkle comes from the right side of the car and then his arm reaches behind your seat, finding the small bag of trash you stash there--though you have to be careful when Duke sits in the backseat. Generally though, he doesn’t mess with too much. “My mom sent me a recipe of hers. It’s really good.”

“I’d be down for cooking.”

“Nothing else? Don’t wanna go sky diving? Give me another heart attack?”

You laugh thinking about the first birthday you spent with Calum together as a couple. “You didn’t die.”

“But I did almost shit myself.”

“You can play on stage to thousands of people, but no, jumping from a plane is a no-go.”

“Yes, because I am a sane human.”

You huff out a small tuft of laughter and turn to look at him. One hand on the wheel with the stainless steel linked chain dangling from his wrist. His other arm is resting against the door, gently tapping out a beat with his long slender fingers. “Do you want to do anything?”

“Valentine’s Day,” he scoffs. “How long have we been dating? When have I ever been dying to do anything on some random day in February.” His statement doesn’t fall venomously from his mouth. He even looks over to you with a smile. “I don’t need one day out of 365 to declare my love for someone.”

And it’s true. While Calum wasn’t super accepting of love from new people, while it took you months to show Calum that you were trustworthy and not someone to keep at an arm’s length, once he cracked open, he oozed adoration and love for people. And you knew it was a defense mechanism. You knew that when someone did care as hard as Calum did it wouldn’t always be an easy thing to win over. 

Calum, when he finally let someone one, loved hard. It could be a random Tuesday in July or a Sunday in February, and he would make sure his love was known. He never needed a special occasion to send flowers, to cook dinner, to offer to drive you to doctors appointments because he knew that sometimes you got too nervous or flustered by them to drive but did manage to push through if absolutely necessary. He’d easily pick up some gloves and an extra sponge if he saw you wiping down the walls in the kitchen or wiping through the counter. He kept fridge cleaning days marked on the calendar. And when you added reminders to wash bed sheets to the shared one, he also include rest breaks for you too. 

Calum had never needed someone to force him to show appreciation. 

“I mean, there is the option to literally do nothing on Valentine’s Day. Like treat it as any other day.”

“That’s still something,” he countered, turning on his signal and switching out from the middle lane. His exit was approaching in another mile and a half. 

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh. “We can’t cease to exist that day. Bare minimum we need to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Calum laughs softly, showing some of his teeth too. “Fair, fair. There’s another Netflix documentary coming out, true crime one. I forget what it’s fully about, but I think it’s about a serial killer if you’d be down to start it then?”

“When would I ever turn down the opportunity to be a detective with you?”

“You haven’t yet,” he states with laughter in his voice. 

“And I never will.” The ramp takes the two of you down and down and soon you’re winding through streets and not too far you can see the shopping center coming into view. He pulls into the lot of the shop and the two of you step out in unison. 

The bell above the door chimes as he opens it for you and you smile often in your thanks. “Hey, Calum!” one of the guys at the register calls out. The store is fairly empty. But you’re not shocked on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Hey, Derek. How’s it going?” Calum heads directly over to the counter and you look up to the left wall, at the records on display.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the second guy states to you, “or if you want to see anything.” He’s younger than Derek, both look to be equally tattooed from the pieces that peek out from the short sleeve work shirts, but his face is significantly brighter. 

“Thanks,” you return and go back to the displays. You can hear Calum and Derek chatting but slowly tune it out, make it background noise to the music playing through the speakers. 

You turn to walk towards the back where more instruments sit and you can see Calum leaning into the glass display of the counter. The palms of his hand pressed into the metal edge. The sunglasses sit on top of his head and you notice the younger guy glancing over at you again.

He nods again and then goes back to his computer. Nothing else is said. And you look over the stringed instruments, ukuleles, some violins and then you spin around again, done with that lap and go to head up to Calum. “See anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “You’re the musically talented one. I just nod and smile when you talk about it.”

Derek returns, a case in hand. He comes out from the hinged doors that separate the sales floor from the registers and back of the store. You scoot a little closer to the display as the case is transferred over. Calum takes it easily heading to the corner you just abandoned to sit and check out the instrument. It’s a beautiful deep green, almost reminds you of the thick Washington forest. The body is slender. 

“That’s a pretty cool color,” you note, watching Calum work his fingers over the frets. 

He grins up at you. “Think so?” You give another nod. He doesn’t inspect it long before you can see the desire to give in crosses his face. 

Derek’s standing close by and you turn to him and keep your voice as close to a whisper as you can while still being heard. “What’s a bass like that cost?”

He rattles off the price, one eyebrow slightly raised over the other. You know Calum will riot--he’ll pitch a fucking fit. But you reach into your wallet and slide out your card. You had been saving--for a year. You wanted to do something big for Calum. You just didn’t know what it was yet specifically though you had some ideas, a bass was top of the list.  But you didn’t want to try and go out and buy a bass without consulting him, without getting an understanding of what he liked. You thought about maybe a really good leather jacket and some more boots. He loved the ones he had, wore them as much as he could. 

And when you mentioned possibly getting him more, he told you the ones he had were still in good shape. Calum wasn’t the type to just buy clothes to buy them. He indulged here and there, but always made a point to wear something he had down before replacing it. You’d tease the subject a couple more times after that, but he never took the bait and you weren’t going to force him into a thing he didn’t want or need. 

But it’s clear to you that this is something he wants. But he’ll tussle with himself and never give in on it. It’s pricer than you thought it would be. But you too were being smart, having finally paid off the last of your car, you start moving those payments to savings and it helped a great deal. You were fine. You get insurance and the whole deal as Derek advises. By the time you slide the receipt back across the counter, Calum comes back to the registers. “I appreciate you holding it for me, man. But I don’t think I can right now.”

Derek looks at you and you look down into the glass. “It’s--it’s yours, dude.”

“What?” Calum breathes behind you. 

“They-uh, they paid for it,” Derek says, nodding at you.

You can feel the heat in your body now and spin around to face Calum in a rush. “Consider it a not Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Ever since I finished paying off my car, I saved the payments to do something nice for you. Didn’t know what it was going to be for sure. But I know you, Calum. You’d want something and tell yourself no. I mean you can treat yourself sometimes.”

“You-you didn’t?” His eyes are rapidly blinking, head shaking like he doesn’t want to believe you. Like he can’t believe you as his mouth mumbles out, “No,” repeatedly. 

“It’s yours,” you nod. “It’s really yours.”

If it weren’t for the weight of the bass, you’re sure Calum would’ve tipped over, maybe even rushed to Derek to hand the case back over, but instead he’s weighed down, chained to this spot in the blue speckled carpet of the store, still repeating, “No,” softly. 

“‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to find space in your office for it now. Because I refuse to return it.” You step forward, find the handle and slip your hands around it taking it from Calum. A small grunt leaves you and then you start to the door, throwing a thanks to Derek. 

The lights to the SUV blink and you can hear the locks clicking open as you push open the door to the store. “Wait--what are you doing?” Calum asks. 

“Open the trunk please,” you ask. 

“Let me do it,” he demands, stepping in close to take the case with the bass now. “What the fuck did you do? Baby, this is expensive.”

“It’s not a Valentine’s Day gift,” you answer again. “Because I love you. On a random Tuesday.”

He gets the instrument safely into the trunk and then closes it, watching dumbly as you climb into the passenger side. He walks to the driver seat and climbs in, taking you gently by the chin. “That was absolutely reckless and unnecessary-- ”

“I am just absolutely reckless and unnecessary then,” you counter, “because I’m not returning it.”

“--but thank you. Thank you so much,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Then it’s silent, as the two of your gaze at each other, watching what could almost be tears well in his eyes, but they don’t fall. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like you, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.”

“I’m glad you did it too.” The two of you return home, Duke rushing to the front door as the two of you step through it. Calum safely places the bass in his music room/office and returns shortly after to help you decide on what to order for dinner. 

As the two of you settle onto the couch, Calum takes your hand and presses a kiss to teach knuckle. “I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

“You know we’ve done this before.”

“And you were good at it.”

“I was alright at it.”

“It’ll be your bass,” he whispers. 

“I bought it for you,” you return tossing your head back to look at him. 

He kisses your lips. “Yeah, but it’ll be the one that I teach you to play for real one and it’ll be yours--just as much as it is mine.”

“A true sap,” you laugh, but nod and return your focus back to the TV. 

In the week that follows, Calum makes sure to take an hour in the evenings to set you down and pick up on the lessons. They fizzled out as work for the both of you picked up. But now things are a bit more calm. He sits next to you, assessing what you remember from last time and correcting finger placements as needed, but they go smoothly. 

When Valentine’s Day does come, Calum pulls you back into bed for just five more minutes of sleep. And five minutes turns into half an hour. But finally you two pull yourself out from the sheets, figure out what to do in the midmorning that results in food being consumed and then you slowly gravitate towards different sections of the house. 

There’s still a bit of laundry to be done and Calum takes Duke out for just a little bit. The two of you migrate back together by mid afternoon. He finds you making a quick lunch and presses a kiss to your cheek. You turn to face him, squeezing at his. “I bought some face masks,” he offers. “Care to join me in doing the bare minimum of converting oxygen into carbon dioxide after your lunch?”

“Don’t see how I could pass up such a wonderful offer? You want anything?” He shakes head, mentioning grubbing on some of the leftovers earlier while you took a nap. 

With your lunch done and the plates cleaned, you find Calum in the bedroom and let him know you’re ready for the face masks. He shuffles to the bathroom. “I hope I got the right one for you,” he mutters. “I got them forever ago it feels, so who the hell knows what I got.” His laughter is soft as he rummages through the bins under the skin. 

“I’ll be in the office,” you tell him and he nods, still pulling bins out. You settle into the couch and spy the green bass still on the stand from yesterday. You pull it into your lap and sling your arm over it. The amp next to you is off, you know but you still pluck away at it as if it were on. 

Calum shuffles in a few minutes later. “Um, babe. It’s off.”

You don’t reply but do look up. He holds up three different packages. “Here’s to hoping one of these is worthwhile.” You place your bass back to the stand and take one that sounds like one you’re okay with using. Calum hands you a towel so you can wipe your fingers off after you get it placed onto your face. He helps get it right and then you help him with his and the two of you slip onto the couch, legs entangled and leaning into opposite ends of the couch.

You laugh at Calum’s story as you scroll mindless through app after app. In the boredom you snap a picture of Calum with the face masks on and don’t think too much of it, saving it to the album with all the silly and cute photos of him are--there are tons. 

“I mean the sun is a star. Though the ones we see have been dead for a long time.”

Calum taps your leg with his foot. “It was a simple question--to be the sun or the stars. I didn’t ask for this philosophical crisis.”

“Why would it not weigh in your decision! If you’re a star like the ones we see at night, you’re technically already dead. You wanna be dead?” You huff, sitting up. 

“I mean, no, but c’mon.”

“It’s a valid thing to consider, that’s all I’m saying!”

He laughs. “Okay, sun or the moon?”

“You first,” you return and just then your alarm on your phone goes off. The two of you shuffle back to the bathroom and take off the masks. 

“Moon, maybe,” he counters. 

You nod. “Fitting. When should we get started on that recipe of your moms? Is it super involved?”

“Nah, it’s pretty easy. Normal time should be good. I’m going to read outside if you want to join.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

Calum nods, grabbing his book as he passes through the bedroom and the patter of Duke’s claws follow behind him. You go back to the music room, turn on the amp and then actually play a little something. It’s nothing fancy--just the arrangement you put together with Calum as a practice exercise once. You play it for a bit, adding a little flair. When you phone rings, you pause to answer it. You wouldn’t normally, but the number looks semi recognizable so you answer it. 

It’s just a scam call and you hang up but then notice some other notifications. Before you realize it, you’re deep into Twitter. You’ve run across the trend of people posting pictures of themselves and their significant others with the caption, The Face Vs The Face Sitting On It. It made you laugh just a little bit at first. And then you kept going down the rabbit hole. Some are silly, most are good pictures. 

While it’s not exactly secret that you and Calum are dating, you two don’t post too much. Calum isn’t incline to post on social media in the first place and while you use it a bit more than him, you try not to post too much about him out of respect. However, as you look tap on quote retweet and bring up your photos you think maybe one silly post wouldn’t hurt. So you grab the one of him recently with the face masks and then one of yourself--it’s silly too, a little blurry too in the darkness that it was taken in. 

You hit post and watch the likes come in. Then keep scrolling. Eventually you have to put the bass away and peel yourself from the couch to find Calum and see if he’s hungry enough for dinner. Just as you round the corner to the office, you spy him stepping through the glass sliding backdoor. “Hungry?” you ask. 

He nods, “Yeah.”

The two of you, with Duke trotting ahead, make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You’re funny,” he states, washing his hands first. 

“Thank you. I’ll be here until you kick me out.”

He laughs. “No, the pictures you posted. On Twitter.”

You’re shocked that he noticed it that fast. Normally it took him a bit longer to see silly stuff like that. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. What I hope you don’t mind is my reply.”

At first you’re nervous. Calum could’ve gone one of two ways--super silly and broke out even worse photos of you possibly not sober or he went super on trend with it and pulled out a photo of you done up for a date night. Not that you preferred one over the other, but sometimes you liked to keep your relationship light on social media. It was easier that way. There wasn’t any real pressure that way. Though the fans seemed to have enjoyed it when you posted more posed and serious content. 

You liked to keep it a bit more real. You and Calum didn’t do the whole nine yards a lot--you two were normal people who hated getting out of bed some days and went as well into the afternoon before showering at times and walked Duke and went to doctor’s appointments like everyone does. So you always opted for a bit of a joke, a silly Tweet or photo whenever you could. 

“What did you post?” you ask. 

He shrugs, taking up the knife to dice the onion. “I’m not telling you.”

You glance at the printed out recipe and get a pan on the aisle over medium heat before pulling out your phone. As you load the app, you listen to the snap of the knife fitting the wooden cutting board. You type Calum’s name and tap onto his profile. 

While there’s is silly--I do want to take a moment to show off my favorite person in the world. So here we go, The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It. Below is attached a picture of him--you snapped while you two were out for lunch one day. The black t-shirt tight around his biceps as he slyly grins into the camera. The lights in the background are just barely in focus of the resturant and Calum’s glancing out of the window next to him. You remember that you were recording him, or at least you thought you were, and told him that he was handsome. Not the first time, but everytime he did, he blushed and turn away. And you captured it here too. 

The photo of you is actually one with him in it. The guys got together and did a big family dinner and the two of you posed at Crystal’s request in the slightly matching outfits. You hadn’t intended to match--though black was a staple in both your wardrobes. You were a bit different thanks to the pop of color in your shoes, but in the lighting of the street lamp, you had to admit that you did look hot. The first couple of  buttons on your shirt you were undone and with your hands tucked into the pockets, you looked like you owned shit. 

“While I hoped that you’d go with something more silly, I will take this,” you finally say. 

“That picture is literally my background for a reason,” he returns. 

You kiss his cheek and then trace over the stubble with your teeth to his ear. “Can I make a reservation for tonight?”

“The table is reserved for you literally at all times,” he returns in a breathe. 

“Good,” you laugh and then glance back to the recipe. 

[dreamescapeswriting]

Living Hell ~ MYG [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 4.2K

↬↬↬Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

↬↬↬Pairing: Min Yoongi X Gender Neutral Reader

The internship of a lifetime is what everyone was calling it but you called it your living hell, every day was a whole new way for Min Yoongi to torture you and make you want to quit doing the things you loved but you kept pushing on despite the feeling of wanting to give up. You weren't going to let someone push you aside like that even if it was every day. 

"Y/n!" You looked up from your pad of paper in front of your face to see Namjoon and Yoongi walking towards you, Namjoon had a smile on his face as he walked towards you questioning you on how your song was coming along. Every week BigHit set a task for the winners of the internship to work on songs and present them at the end of the week, 

"Really well," You kept it brief since Yoongi was giving you a death glare that you're sure would kill you given half of the chance but then again you were sure Yoongi would kill you given half the chance. The first time you met him you were sure it was just because you were new to the team and he wasn't sure on you but as time passed and he grew colder to you the more you realised he actually just hated you. 

"Did you hear me?" Namjoon questioned waving his hand in front of your face, you were staring off down into the hallway as though no one had been standing right in front of you. 

"Stupid little child," Yoongi mumbled pushing past you and walking towards his studio, you looked at Namjoon. 

"Sorry I was just thinking of some lyrics." You lied trying to pretend you hadn't heard Yoongi mumbling under his breath, it was something you were used to by now. 

"They have a competition coming up in a few days, they're going to select a few of you to do some work within a limited amount of time. I'm not supposed to tell you but I figured you could use the heads up." You thanked him while he walked off to his own studio, you stayed in the hall jotting down some lyrics to a song you'd been working on in the back of your notebook. Nothing that was ready to be heard yet but it was there if you ever needed something to work on.

"Y/n?! Are you done?" You glanced over at Yoongi who was standing with his head in the door of his studio, 

"Yes." You whispered walking over to him to see what he wanted this time, 

"Good. I need you to go and get all this for me, you'll be able to find it easily enough." He handed you a sheet of paper with a bunch of useless items on it, it looked like he was just trying to send you on a wild goose chase. 

"Why can't you do this yourself-"

"I'd be nicer to me if I were you, I'm the one that's going to be judging your work next week." He licked his bottom lip as he watched you stand up straight at the mention of him being one of the judges for the competition, 

"Then you understand that I need to work on my own things instead of yours..." You were doing your best to be kind to him, you'd been brought up to be kind to everyone you met. Treat people the way that you wished to be treated but Min-Fucking-Yoongi made that extraordinarily difficult for you to be nice to him with everything he was putting you through. 

Since day one he'd made it clear he had a strong dislike for you but you had no idea why. You'd been nothing but kind to everyone that worked in BigHit and Yoongi had been one of your inspirations so it was difficult to have someone you'd idolised for so long hate you without truly knowing who you were. 

"Listen, if you want to make it in this industry I suggest you do what I ask of you." He pushed the piece of paper into your chest and you hurried out of his studio, going to get your car keys from the small office you had been assigned on your first day.

"I'm sure you're all aware by now that there is a competition coming up. This will be the final test for the interns." Bang PD was speaking clearly as he looked over everyone in the room, all of the interns were sitting in front of the room watching him closely and listening for what they had to do. 

"I expect to see work from each of you by next week. People will be leaving us so let this be a warning if your work is anything less than what we expect you'll be forced to leave and your contract will be terminated with us." Swallowing the lump in your throat you wrote down what he was expecting from you all, the types of songs he wanted and how many. You were sure if you put your mind to it you'd be able to get everything he wanted from you and more, the thought of losing this opportunity physically hurt your chest when you'd done nothing but work towards it for years. It had been your dream since you could remember to work with music and BigHit was one of the leading companies that you'd wanted since you were 16. Nothing was going to stop you from working hard to keep this job.

A week passed and you'd tortured yourself trying to keep up with everything, Yoongi had you running around after him like you were his own personal maid. Treating you like a coffee maid instead of a producer who was working within the same industry as him. The only time you got to work on your own music was when it was late into the night and you were locked up in your studio, forcing yourself to stay awake until the unholy hours just to get at least one song done. You were ahead of an intern you knew but you didn't feel it was enough.

Today you were supposed to be working on the final song that would make your work stand out, a song about hardship and pushing through everything someone was throwing at you - you hadn't even noticed you'd written the song about Yoongi, as far as you saw it it was just a song about someone else going through a hard time. Your phone buzzed from beside you as you were about to lay your vocal track down,

[Yoongi]: Need your help in the studio, please.

The emoji he'd sent wasn't like Yoongi at all, a pleading face with a please at the end? It wasn't like Yoongi at all. Yoongi never said please, ever. Maybe he'd finally realised how much he'd pushed you this week and was trying to say sorry for it. You locked your desktop up taking your phone with you towards his studio, it was just up the hallway from yours so you wondered what the big deal could have been when you heard a crash coming from inside his room. 

"Yoongi?!" You panicked pushing open the door to see him standing in the corner of his room with a look of fear across his face, you glanced over at the shelves that were now hanging from the wall, one of them still swinging as it held onto the bracket in the wall. 

"What happened?" Your voice came out shaky and nervous as you stared at them in horror, everything looked like it was broken but repairable or in desperate need of a trip to the trash cans. 

"I was working and they just fell- You didn't do a good job on them!" He snapped at you pointing his finger in your direction, you turned to him. He was bringing this around to you? How had this been your fault when it was his office?

"Yoongi I didn't even install the shelves so would you like to explain how it's my fault?!" You lost your temper for a second but squeezed your thumb between your middle finger and ring finger to try and calm yourself down, bring yourself back to reality where he was your boss and not someone you should talk to that way. Even if he had done nothing but belittle you all week into doing stupid tasks for him. Monday it was running around stores for him to look for a certain writing paper, Tuesday he had you working on his tracks as well as cleaning his shoes, Wednesday he wanted the shelves cleaning so that's what you had done, Thursday he wanted you to take his car to get details and the list went on until today, Friday, the final day you had to work on your own things and you'd done nothing but run around after him like his own personal assistant - who he had you fire because she was 'incompetent' and he couldn't stand her working for him anymore. 

"I asked you to clean everything up there the other day so it's clearly your fault." He spat at you, you looked down at the floor to see shards of broken glass everywhere on the floor. If he wasn't careful he could seriously hurt himself and the thought alone made you anxious, 

"Whatever, I-I'll clean it up." You stuttered out not wanting to have a huge fight about it. Maybe it had to have been your fault you knew you'd cleaned up the shelves the other week but nothing you could have done would have caused the brackets to fall out of the wall the way they had. 

"Can you get me-" You went to asked him to get the dust-pan and brush but he was already out of the room and talking into his phone about something, 

"Fuck." You whispered standing up from the floor and going to find the things you needed yourself. 

"How's your project coming along Y/n?" Jungkook asked as he followed you up towards Yoongi's studio, he'd seen you walking through the building looking for something so he decided to come along with you. 

"I heard Yoongi-Hyung called you to his studio, seems like you guys have gotten really close over the last week." He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck as you walked, you laughed nervously. Everyone had noticed how close you worked with Yoongi but no one had noticed how he was treating you because whenever someone else was around it was as if he was a new person, acting like someone you'd known for years and not someone who was using you to get his own way.

"You could say that." It wasn't in you to bad mouth another person behind their back so you kept your mouth shut and opened the door to the studio, Jungkook's mouth hung open as he walked inside behind you looking around at everything. He was about to step further into the room when your arm reached across his chest to stop him from going any further into the room. 

"Careful there's bits of glass everywhere." You muttered nonchalantly to him as you got down onto your hands and needs to start cleaning everything up as quickly as possible.  

"What happened?" He asked looking at the shelves he frowned staring at them, 

"Yoongi was working when they fell," He scoffed at the word fell and walked over to them being careful not to step on anything that was on the floor but he ran he fingers over the holes in the walls. They hadn't fallen at all, they'd been ripped from the wall anyone could see that. He glanced down at everything at the floor and back up to the shelf as he tried to calculate something in his head, Yoongi had removed everything from the shelves and ripped them down before throwing everything onto the floor but why?

"What did Yoongi say happened?" He was sitting next to you now picking up big shards of glass and putting them into the bin beside you, 

"That he was working when they fell." He nodded looking at your face as you concentrated on not hurting yourself, 

"How much work do you have left to do?" He was sure this was nothing to do with your work and he was imagining things but Yoongi had been off lately but this wasn't like the Yoongi he'd known all these years. Why would Yoongi smash up his own things just to get you to stop working? 

"Not much, I have one song to finish and I'm done, I'll have it finished by presentation time tomorrow." You lied. You'd only have it finished if you stayed late again tonight - by staying late you meant falling asleep on the sofa in your office. 

When you finally made it back to your studio that night you were exhausted, you'd cleaned up every small fragment of glass you could find before you went on the hunt for photo frames that looked exactly like the ones that Yoongi had had on the shelves. You'd even gone to DIY stores to get filler for the walls, filling in the holes waiting for them to dry while you fixed up awards with glue you'd picked up. 

"Yoongi? What are you doing in here?" You asked tiredly as you saw Yoongi sitting on the sofa in your studio, his feet kicked up on the sofa as he looked at you. 

"I came to tell you about your work but you weren't here so I figured I'd wait for you." You frowned at him dropping the bag of rubbish outside the door for the night cleaners to come by and take, 

"What about my work?" You looked at the desktop in your studio to see that it was bluescreened, the sad sarcastic face that windows always had whenever a computer did this was evident on the screen. 

"What the fuck!?" You screamed rushing over to it, tapping on the keyboard to try and get anything to work, 

"It's alright, you backed everything upright?" He questioned smugly looking as you pulled out a USB stick from the back of the PC but it was snapped leaving the metal fragments inside of the computer. Your heart was pounding against your chest and tears rushed to your eyes as you thought about everything that was on the computer and USB drive. Yoongi smirked from behind you as you began to cry silently into your hands, he knew you weren't going to say anything to him so he turned to leave when you finally broke down. 

"Why?" You whimpered turning to look at him, tears were streaming down your face as he locked eyes with you. His chest panged with guilt as he saw the broken look across your face, 

"Why do you hate me so much?!" You questioned looking at him and then at the computer, 

"I've done nothing but work my ass off since I got here! But yet you treat me like I'm nothing, why? What did I ever do to you that was so bad?!" You were yelling, Yoongi had never even heard you talk above your normal tone before and it was shocking to have you yelling at him now. He felt bad. 

"Y/n-"

"No, don't ''Y/n'' me. Answer me, what did I ever do to you? You know, Jungkook told me that you probably ripped down those shelves but I've spent my whole day fixing everything for you, putting them back up and making sure they're level. Replacing everything you smashed up, cutting up my hands." You mumbled showing him your plastered covered hands. 

"Do you want me to quit? Because if so you got what you wanted." You were calmer now which scared Yoongi even more than when you were yelling, you grabbed your bag from the back of the door and walked away from him. 

"I quit. You can have the honours of letting everyone know for me." You walked out of the hallway and onto the staircase of the BigHit building falling onto the step and clutching onto the railing as you sobbed into your hands about everything he'd put you through over your time there.

Yoongi made his way back to his studio looking around, everything was perfectly arranged the way he had it before he'd wrecked it all. The shelves were a little lower than they had been but the holes had to be covered somehow. The trophies he had on display were all fixed back together, you could hardly notice the cracks within them unless you knew they were there and the photographs were back in frames like the ones he owned. You'd done a brilliant job on everything and yet he'd treated you the way he did, he reached into his pocket to take out the real USB stick he'd taken from your computer with everything on it and he put it into his own computer loading everything up onto his system. 

"Yoongi?" He looked over his shoulder to see one of the night security men, 

"Yeah?"

"It's Y/n again Sir, we found them asleep on the steps, what should we do?" He sighed coming out of his office to see you asleep in the arms of another security guard. They'd found you like this a couple of times over the months of you working for BigHit and they always came to Yoongi since he'd told them to whenever they saw you asleep somewhere that wasn't your own studio. Yoongi had found you asleep on his sofa one night and carried you to yours so that you could get some decent sleep. 

"Take them to their studio," He mumbled walking behind them as they carried you towards your room. They laid you down before leaving and he stared at you, the way your brows furrowed together as you dreamt about something you didn't like,

"Yoongi go away," You whimpered in your sleep and he sighed running his hand along your cheek using his thumb to caress your skin as he realised he was the bad thing you were dreaming about.

Groaning as you woke up the next morning you looked around you to see you were in your office, your computer still had the patronising sad face over the screen that made you want to put your fist through the screen just so it would go away. You sat up on the sofa to see a blanket had been laid across your body, a glass of water and orange juice was on the table along with a note. 

Meet me in my studio - Yoongi 

You scoffed at the note throwing it into the bin and running your hairs through your hair, you opted out of drinking the drinks he'd left you and headed to the mirror in your room to try and make yourself look at least a little presentable and not that you'd spent the night on your studio sofa which wasn't even your studio anymore. You were going to quit. You weren't going to take it anymore. Throwing the door open you made you way down the hall ignoring Yoongi's door as you passed it heading straight to Bang PD instead of going to Yoongi like he'd asked of you. 

"You're telling me you're quitting?" Bang PD asked as he looked up from the work on his desk, he was marking through papers with his glasses pressed up against his face, 

"Yes Sir, I know it's short notice but my work, there was an accident with my computer and it's gone. To save a lot of hassle I decided to quit that way you won't have to fire any competent interns." The door to his office opened and closed, Yoongi stood behind you panting heavily. 

"They're not quitting Sir, they're just tired." He was breathing heavily and PD put his pen down onto the table sighing as he watched the both of you bicker back and forth about quitting, 

"Don't let them quit," Yoongi spoke louder than you could and you stared at him as he stepped in front of you and began ranting quickly as though he was rapping,

"Their PC was corrupted last night and I have their original work on a USB stick, there's no need to fire Y/n or let them quit so please just...Don't let them, it's my fault all of this happened, Sir. I took everything Y/n was working on and it's ready for your viewing in the main presentation room."

Bang PD had reviewed everything on the CD while you stayed silent listening to yourself singing on the tracks along with Jungkook and Jimin who were included in some of the songs. 

"This is exceptional work Y/n." Bang PD said as he turned around to face you on the chair, 

"I won't stop you from quitting if it is something you want to do but from what I've heard we would be at a loss without you on our team." You stared down at the floor nodding along to what he was saying, 

"I'll give you some time to think things over," He patted your back leaving you and Yoongi alone in the room, as soon as the door shut you turned to him. 

"Do you think this would fix anything between us? That you presenting my work as if everything was fine would be okay!? Are you fucking-" You were cut off when his lips touched yours, his hands pressed on the back of your head to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widened as you realised you were kissing him, slowly they began to flutter shut as you leant into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were kissing Min Yoongi...You were kissing Min Yoongi?! The guy that had made your life hell. You pushed him away from you and shook your head, tearing up as you thought about it. 

"Are you actually insane?!" You spat at him glaring at him as he smirked wiping his lips with his hand, 

"I think that's the best kiss I've ever had, come here-"

"Wipe that smirk off your face, you're deluded if you think that is ever going to happen." As much as you wanted it to it wasn't something that could happen again, 

"You've done nothing but make my life a living hell since I started here, why did you- Why would you-" There were too many questions to ask in such a short time span that you just took in sharp breaths trying to calm yourself down.

"Come on, I know I call you dumb Y/n but I don't mean it." He chuckled walking over to you again, he raised his hand to your cheek but you didn't move away you snuggled your face against it. Your whole body felt warm from the small interaction and he chuckled feeling your cheeks heat up and watched as you skin began to glow, 

"You like me and I like you, what's the big deal?" You moved away from him yet again, 

"The big deal is that you've done nothing but make my life hell, you made me think my work was gone and then magically think it's going to be fixed because I got to keep my job?" You asked him raising an eyebrow at him if he really thought that this was all going to be some magically happy ending he was wrong things like that only happened in the movies.

"Y/n please, I was- I was intimidated by you and you working so hard it scared me...I thought if I could push you down a little and make you work less I wouldn't have to be afraid." You rolled your eyes at the excuse he was spilling out to you and you went to leave the room but his hand was placed on top of yours, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel something there. It was as if there was a huge electric shock running throughout your entire body whenever he touched you.

"I like you, a lot, another reason I made you run around for me so I could see you more often than I normally would...It was wrong okay and I'm sorry but let me make it up to you. Don't run away from me." He pleaded with you, you turned to look at him and sighed. He looked sorry for everything he'd done and he was, he was terrified and felt guilty for everything he'd done. 

"Please."

"How?" You questioned folding your arms across your chest to seem more intimidating but mostly to get your hand away from his otherwise you were about to cave in to him right away. 

"I'll take you out, just us two. Away from all of this so I can prove how much I like you...Please?" You licked your lips pretending to think about it as if you didn't already have the answer 'yes' written in glowing lights above your head.

"Fine. One date and then we'll talk about it..." You whispered looking at him as he walked closer to you, pulling your hand into his and smiling softly. 

"I am truly sorry." He whispered kissing your lips softly as he stepped closer to you.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @taestannie @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @innersooya​ 

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Weekly Meal Prep (Yandere!Omi Fushimi)

note: this is my first attempt at working with the yandere theme so i don't really know if i did good or bad,,, but something about messed up omi just sends me straight to hell. hope you enjoy!

word count: 2.9k

Monday.

"This is so good! This has got to be one of my favorite curry dishes so far." You gushed, shoving another spoonful of the new curry in your mouth.

"Glad you liked it. The place had bad reviews, but I think it's just because normal people don't know how to appreciate the raw and concentrated flavor of curry." Chikage grinned as he looked at you endearingly

"Ugh," You scoffed, "Why can't people understand that the raw flavor of the spices are supposed to taste like this? I dislike the artificial flavors of watered down and manufactured spices because of how... fake it tastes in curry dishes." You were about to go on a full-on rant about how using real spices in curry dishes should be the only way to cook curry.

Chikage watched you with his emerald eyes, admiring how beautiful you looked when you talked about something that you were so passionate about. Yeah, sure, he disliked women, but being here with you made him realize that maybe the other gender wasn't all that bad. Actually, he still hated women; He just didn't hate you.

You weren't a woman. To him, you were a goddess.

"Thank you for taking me out, by the way." You suddenly spoke, breaking your rant about the whole curry ordeal. "You didn't have to, but you did. I appreciate that a lot, Chikage."

His lips curled up in a warm smile.

"Don't mention it, director."

After you two finished your meals, you had to go back to the dorm immediately to hold several meetings with the troupes regarding their next projects. As Chikage held the door open for you, his eyes darted back inside the bustling restaurant.

"Hm? Is something wrong, Chikage?"

Again, he smiled at you, but it was more strained than the last.

"Of course not. Let's go home, shall we?"

-

Tuesday.

"Oi, careful." Juza wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. A motorcycle was speeding by and it nearly hit you, but thankfully, Juza saw it before it impacted. "Tsk, careless drivers piss me off. Stand here." He then guided you to walk inside of the sidewalk.

"Oh crap, I didn't see that. Thank you, Juza! You're so nice." Juza blushed at your kind words, but he shook his head to rid of the thoughts.

"'S nothin."

"Hey, look at that! They're selling a new flavor of crepes! Come on, let's check it out!" You grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him over to your favorite crepe place. They didn't have a line yet, which was good, because you were able to purchase the new crepes for you and Juza.

"Here!" You grinned at him, handing him one of the crepes

"Lemme pay for them."

"Nonsense!" You gently pushed the crepe further into his hand, and his mind went wild when your fingers brushed his skin. "Consider this a thank you gift because you saved me earlier."

He took the crepe hesitantly, and muttered a quiet "Thanks." before he bit into it.

His face lit up immediately.

"'S sweet. I like it."

"Marshmallow crepes. Genius! We should bring one home for Hisoka. I'm sure he'd love this!"

Juza smiled. He adored how you were always considerate and thoughtful of other people even when you weren't physically with them. It's one of the many things that he loved about you.

Suddenly, he felt a shiver down his spine. He looked around, but was suddenly distracted when you were spilling the cream all over yourself.

"Crap!"

"Oi, tissue!"

He handed you a few tissues so you could wipe your shirt, and you had to admit that was a little mortifying to be that clumsy in front of the younger male.

"Thank you for being so reliable, Juza. Makes me feel

As you were mindlessly walking home, Juza couldn't help but think to himself why that motorcycle looked so damn familiar.

-

Wednesday.

"Come on, director-chan! I promise you, it tastes good!"

"Kazu, I am legitimately going to HURT you."

"No you're not! That's so mean!" Kazunari wept crocodile tears.

"Come on, director-chan! It's just a bite!"

"Kumon, I'm going to die. If I don't make it, tell everyone in Mankai that I love them and that I always treated them as my own family."

"Director-chan, you aren't going to die here." Kumon sweat dropped.

"No, I've accepted my fate. If this is what I must do for love, then at least I'll go out knowing that I did it for you boys.

"Director-chan, it's just a salad. You don't have to be so dramatic about it!"

"It's a death trap! I know you boys want to kill me so you can always get free time!"

"If anything, we're concerned about you health! That's why we want you to eat this!" Kazunari made sure that the fork had greens, kani, and a mishmash of everything before he held it in front of your mouth. "Here, say ah!"

You wanted to throw up. Vegetables. Disgusting.

"This store sells the best kani salad! You have to try it, I promise you'll like it!" Kumon looked at you with big doe eyes and you sighed in defeat.

You leaned forward to eat the portion on the fork and Kazunari blushed because he realized that he was feeding you. It was an adorable sight, and maybe peer pressuring someone into eating healthy food could be an addition to his growing list of love advice.

You blinked. "It's... actually pretty good."

"Right?!" Kumon beamed before giving the restaurant owner a thumbs up.

"Here, director-chan!" Kazunari filled the fork again, "Say ah!"

Your face bloomed red and you snatched the fork from his hand, "I can feed myself just fine, Kazu!"

"You really are the cutest!"

"I wanna feed you too, director-chan!"

Kazunari watched as Kumon bothered you while you ate the rest of the salad. It was off-putting how there seemed to be a cold atmosphere in the room. He looked around to see that there were just a few customers sitting in the dining area. His eyes landed on a hooded figure who was sitting in a lone booth in the corner of the room. The figure had his face hidden behind a menu, but there was something about the person that reminded Kazu of a certain brunette that they loved in Mankai.

Maybe that was just coincidence.

After all, there were a lot of brunettes in Japan.

Right?

-

Thursday.

"It's odd for you two to take me out for Chinese." You stated. Your eyes were scanning the menu of the new Chinese place that opened just a few blocks away from the Mankai dormitory.

"Tsumugi found out about the egg drop soup because apparently it's famous outside of Veludo Way. He was insistent that we take you to try it." Tasuku replied, eyeing how excited Tsumugi looked.

"I've heard great reviews about the egg drop soup and I've been dying to try it." Tsumugi's usually calm and gentle tone of voice was laced with a child-like glee, and it took all of your willpower not to reach over the table so that you can pinch his cheeks.

"He already ordered individual soups for us, but if you want anything else off the menu, go ahead and order it as well." Tasuku won't admit it aloud, but he liked spending time with you and Tsumugi. Being with his bestfriend and his favorite director made him feel a sense of comfort that just made him feel all warm and gooey inside. He felt at home with you two and he wouldn't exchange that feeling for the world.

"It's refreshing to be with you two, especially since it's a lot calmer whenever Tasuku isn't at your throat, Tsumugi." You giggled, ignoring the deadpan look that the athletic male beside you was giving you.

"I'm glad you feel that way, director-san." Tsumugi chimed, smiling. He took your hand a placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Spend some more time with us, alright?"

Your face immediately felt hot and you pulled your hand back to save yourself from being more embarrassed than you already were.

"Is it just me, or does it feel like we're being watched?" Tasuku murmured as his eyes quickly scouted the room. Ever since you entered the restaurant, Tasuku already had this instinct in his guts screaming that there was someone watching you. Not just you in particular, but the three of you. You heard him speak, but what he said was unclear.

"Sorry, did you say something, Tasuku?"

"Oh, I was just mumbling. Don't worry about it.

"Three orders of egg drop soup. Can I help you with anything else?"

"No, thank you!"

"Enjoy your meal!"

Tsumugi immediately began to eat his soup even though it was still hot. His face melted into pure bliss as he felt the delicious components sliding down his throat.

"It's so good." He commented, masking his elation.

"It really is!" You added, taking quick slurps from your spoon. The soup itself tasted rich in flavor; It wasn't too runny, nor was it too starchy.

"It tastes okay to me."

"That's so disrespectful, Tasuku." You jokingly said with a mocking tone. "This soup legitimately changed my life. I wish I could have it everyday, along with curry."

"You somehow managed to sneak curry into the conversation again, huh?" He sighed, smiling at the way you laughed afterward.

Tasuku continued to consume his soup while observing how you and Tsumugi were practically worshipping the soup. He decided to ignore the eerie feeling building in the pit of his stomach gnawing at him alive.

Maybe it was just the soup.

-

Friday.

"Hurry up. We don't have all day."

"Gee, you don't have to be so mean about it!"

"I told you to make it quick. We have to get back in town because we have another meeting to attend to."

You and Sakyo just got out of a business meeting outside of Veludo Way. It was regarding a sponsorship for the Autumn Troupe's next play. Sakyo, the greatest cheapskate and money-pinching Sakyo, was more than willing to accompany you to the next town over if it meant saving the company tens of thousands worth of yen. As long as it involved finances, the blond always needed to be a part of it.

"I know that, but we need to grab lunch before we head to the next meeting. It's bad to miss out on meals, you know! Come on, we'll just grab something from this store and rush back to Veludo Way."

Sakyo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but you did have a point. He was also feeling the hunger starting to rise inside of him. It was already lunchtime by the time you guys finished with the first meeting of the day, and he didn't really have a proper breakfast earlier.

You walked into this quaint little restaurant on the side of the road owned by a lovely old couple.

"Good afternoon, may I help you with anything?" The old lady asked warmly.

You felt your heart soften, "Is it possible to get two yakiniku bento boxes to go?"

She smiled, "Of course, dearie. They'll be right out."

"She seems nice!" You whispered to Sakyo, who was sitting across from you.

"She reminds me of you."

"Eh? Don't tell me I'm already aging! I don't wanna be like you yet!"

"I can and will leave you here."

"Eh, but seriously, how?"

Sakyo sighed exasperatedly. "She... sounds nice. Lovely, even. She just has a nice smile and it reminds me of how nice you are when you talk to other people."

"S-Sakyo, is that really you? Who are you? Are you an alien? How are you being so honest right now?"

"I'm going back to Veludo Way without you.

"Hey, I'm kidding!" You pouted.

"Two yakiniku bento boxes to go?" An old man, presumably the husband of the lady they talked to, walked over to you two and handed you the bag of bento boxes.

"Ah, thank you!" You bowed before taking the bag from his hands. You took your wallet out to pay, but Sakyo already left money in the box where you put your payment.

"Hey, I can-"

"Consider it my treat. You'll be working hard today, after all." For a brief second, he gave you a warm smile. However, it was quickly replaced by his usual scowl. "Now hurry up and let's go."

"Geez, I was just about to call you cute as well!

"I am not cute, _____."

As you two were walking out of the restaurant, the old couple gave you a fond smile.

"We were like that too when we were younger."

"Mhm. They look good together, don't you think?"

When you got back to the car, you began to snack on the onigiri part of your bento. You didn't notice how Sakyo's eyes were glaring daggers into the figure who was idly sitting on his motorcycle just a good few meters away from the car.

The figure was wearing a denim jacket and a black helmet, but he could see a few tufts of brown hair sticking out from above the nape of his neck.

His hand grasped the steering wheel in a tight grip until his knuckles turned pale. What was he feeling? Anxiety? Hostility?

The sensation of being... followed?

His mind was racing at the thought, but he decided to rid the negativity filling his consciousness to the brim.

"Sakyo, here's your onigiri." Your voice snapped him out of his daze, and he shot you a small smile.

"Thanks. Let's head back to town now."

"Mhm!"

Seeing the pure innocence, joy, and trust in your smile made him content. He wanted to protect you and your smile forever.

If only he could.

-

Saturday.

You woke up earlier than usual because you promised Itaru that you'd go with him to the game store down the street since today was the release day of the new game he'd been itching to buy.

You sat up to stretch and noticed that Omi was in your room.

"Gah!" You gasped, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself. "Omi?!"

He gave you a warm smile, "Oh, good morning! You're finally up. Sorry for barging in like this, I just wanted to call you over for breakfast."

"Th-Thanks for waking me up but um, do you mind? I'm still kinda in my nightwear." You blushed, knowing that your bra was still unhooked.

Omi's eyes darkened for a brief moment, but it was gone as soon as he blinked. It was replaced by the usual hazel eyes that gave you the warmest and kindest looks.

"I'm sorry! I'll be waiting for you outside." He then left your room, shutting the door behind him without making a sound.

"Jeez, Omi." You muttered to yourself. You quickly hooked your bra together then changed into a more decent t-shirt, appropriate enough for the other boys in the company to see you without being flustered or bewildered out of their minds. Seriously, Azami acts as if he's never seen a girl's shoulders before, what's up with that?

You tied your hair in a ponytail and went out of your room to head over to the kitchen where a bunch of familiar platters were waiting for you.

"Oh, wow, isn't this quite a... variety for breakfast?" You spoke, careful with your words. You always appreciated Omi for making food for the company, but the dishes he served this particular Saturday morning seemed like a mishmash of different food combinations and you just couldn't put your finger on why the food looked and smelled so familiar to you.

"Dig in, my dearest director." He replied, with his back facing you. It seemed as though he was still preparing something by the sink.

You took a seat and viewed the selection he prepared for breakfast.

Curry. Delicious, by the way.

Yakiniku.

Kani Salad.

Egg drop soup.

Crepes.

"Hey, didn't I..." You whispered to yourself, finally realizing that the meals he prepared for you were all meals you've eaten that week.

How did he know? Did the guys tell him about it?

"Well? Aren't you going to eat? You've been enjoying these all week, why not relive the moments one more time? I made sure to prepare them just the way you like them, after all." Omi's voice was laced with something... unknown. Was it possessiveness? He didn't sound like the warm and loving Omi you knew and love.

This Omi was... dangerous. He was terrifying. His back was still facing you, but you could feel a threatening aura from his broad shoulders because of how they looked so stiff.

He turned around and you froze upon seeing his half-lidded eyes. There was a crazed look in his pupils, something that reeked of want, lust, and obsession.

"You had curry with Chikage on Monday. Marshmallow crepes with Juza on Tuesday. Kani Salad with Kumon and Kazunari on Wednesday. Egg drop soup with Tsumugi and Tasuku on Thursday. Then you had a yakiniku bento box with Sakyo yesterday, right?"

Your eyes widened. The boys were pretty aware of the places you went to and who you went there with, but how in the world did Omi know everything?

"Don't worry about it. You don't have to go out with them anymore. I'm the only one who gets to cook for you from now on, okay?" Omi took steps closer to you. You wanted to scream, to run out of the room, to call for help from anyone, but you felt as if you were paralyzed with fear.

This wasn't Omi anymore.

He stopped when he was directly in front of you from across the table, and you could see his thin lips twist into a sadistic smile.

"Dig in, my precious director."

[poodlejoonas]

Joonas - A Hero’s Welcome

For @bcfanweek​ Day 3: Joonas Porko

Words: 1,431

Description: You meet the band at the airport, and you decide that you and Joonas need a date night in. 

Notes: Joonas Porko/Reader (gender unspecified)

You stood in the airport arrivals terminal, watching the flight data tick onto the screen. The boys were going to be home any time now, and you were itching to see Joonas again. Your shared bed was far too empty for it to be comfortable. It was an absolute joy to watch him live it up on TV, but now you were ready to have him back.

You knew just how much it meant to Joonas, and the rest of the band, to have the opportunity to perform for such a large international audience. They’d been itching to go back on stage since the beginning of the pandemic, and their song was bad ass on top of it all. He called you once a day to update you on all the crazy things that had been happening in Rotterdam. He seemed to be having a good time, and there was nothing you wanted more than the chance to go with him. But thanks to COVID, you stayed home and watched the contest on TV, cheering for them every time they were on screen.

You kept the house comfortable for Joonas for his big return home. You knew that he would be undoubtedly exhausted, but you kept a trick or two up your sleeve. The entire place was spotless and his favorite comfort blanket had been washed and dried that morning. It wasn’t much, but it was a nice treat for him.

No surprise, but you were not the only one eager to greet the band at the airport. Several fans lined up on the side, and there were newspaper cameras everywhere. You could barely see the entrance, but you knew when they walked in by the commotion blowing up.

Niko, always the hype man, riled them up with his hands the same way he did during their performance of Dark Side. Joel followed next, running through with a little bit of a bounce in his step. You patiently waited until you could see Joonas, who greeted the waiting crowd but looked around for you. A smile lit up on his face when he could see your hand waving above the crowd.

Until he could join you, he gave a few answers to some on-the-spot interview questions. They greeted the crowd, who soon dispersed and went their separate ways. You waited at Starbucks, sipping your iced coffee and guarding Joonas’ drink. You were so deep into your phone that you barely noticed him walking up and nearly knocking you over in a hug.

“I missed you so much, kulta,” he shouted, probably because he thought he wasn’t loud enough through his mask. The rest of the group followed him while he sipped his drink and thanked you kindly for ordering it for him.

“Thank God you’re here, he refused to shut the hell up about seeing you again,” Joel said with a laugh. They’ve been friends long enough for you to know that there was nothing but teasing behind that statement.

You gathered your things and followed them out of the airport. Joonas grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers in yours, and began swinging your arms with glee. He’s an affectionate man, but you didn’t realize that he was this attached to you. Either he wanted cuddles or sex, and you knew that you were in for a long night regardless of the option. 

Everyone began to pile in their separate cars and discuss plans for meeting again in the studio on Tuesday morning. You silently complained; such a long week behind them, and they couldn’t even take a break to recover? But it was understandable that there was so much energy to follow up on, and none of it should have been wasted.

You cranked up your car as he opened the door, still talking to Joel who chatted on and on about their studio plans. You wanted to get him home so you could begin your stay-in date night together.

Finally, he closed his door and returned his attention to you. With a smile on his face, he cupped your face with both hands and gave you a soft kiss. “I really did miss you, so much. How have things been at the house?”

The airport traffic died down a bit, just long enough to get you safely on the road. “Lonely, no surprise,” you laughed. “But I have a couple surprises for you to make it nice and cozy.”

Joonas smiled and looked out the window. “I can’t wait. I had just started getting homesick.”

“Even through all of that partying?”

“Yes, even then.” It looked like Joonas had an amazing time with his boys, but you couldn’t be happier to have him back.

You arrived home after a short drive through light traffic. You offered to help Joonas take his bags inside, but he adamantly refused, insisting on doing it all himself. He rushed inside and you smiled, eager to see his reaction. 

He dropped his bags and took a deep breath. “It smells great in here,” he commented. “Did you do something different?”

“I cleaned the whole place. It wasn’t bad, but I thought you’d like that it feels fresher in here.” You also lit some lavender and vanilla candles to leave a fresh, comforting smell for both of you to relax.

Without another word, he grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. “It’s lovely, thank you so much.”

He made his way towards your shared bedroom, where another surprise awaited him. While he was away, you decided to treat yourself to a day at the mall. There, you found two pairs of fleece pajamas - one in your favorite color for yourself, and one in black for him. The fabric was impossibly soft and relatively inexpensive for their quality. You decided it would be perfect for a lazy night in.

Joonas picked up the bundled pajamas and ran his fingers over them with a smile. “Matching pajamas, really?” he said with a laugh, but he gratefully scooped you up in a hug. He ran off to take a shower, and while he was away, you placed a delivery order for a pizza and sat down in the living room. You barely even noticed Joonas was finished with his shower until he came springing into the room with his new pajamas on. They were a little smaller on him than you thought, but the few tight spots hugged his body adorably. 

You went to take a shower yourself so you could be clean and matching together. He waited patiently in the living room and smiled from ear to ear when you came back. “How do I look?” you asked him, to which he only replied with a chef’s-kiss motion.

The only thoughts on your mind right now were pizza, a double-feature movie night, and cuddles with Joonas. Once the pizza arrived, you started with his movie choice, Captain America: Civil War. Normally he would love to babble on about trivia on his favorite movies, but he was too preoccupied with his half of the pizza to say anything. His movie finished and you took a 15 minute break before starting the next one.

You chose a classic musical-comedy from the 1930s, a much different beat from a recent action flick. It took place on a cross-Atlantic cruise from Italy, about two aspiring opera singers in love and three madcap opera house employees who help them get into their first show in America. You were lucky enough to find a version of it with accurate Finnish subtitles for Joonas because even you thought the 30s slang was sometimes hard to understand. 

This time, popcorn and hot cocoa were involved. Joonas was in the middle of a sip when he coughed some of it up laughing at a joke in the movie. “I’m okay!” he managed to mutter, checking to be sure that he didn’t spill cocoa on his new pajamas.

“Be careful, love!” Once his cocoa situation was over, he sat back and buried his head on your shoulder. One hand mindlessly went up to his hair to play with his curls that were finally dried from his shower earlier. Joonas has such a beautiful head of hair, and you hoped that he would never cut it again.

“Kulta, keep playing with my hair like that and I might fall asleep.” He sounded half-asleep already. Even if he fell asleep during your movie choice, you understood why. He worked so hard last week, and he deserved all the rest and relaxation he could get.

Endnotes:

In case anyone’s curious, the second movie mentioned is A Night at the Opera (1935), starring the Marx Brothers. I picked it because it was the first movie that came to mind and I know almost every word to it.

[babybitchegg]

Five Days In a Week

I really don't know what I'm doing, but I hope you enjoy this. I wrote it for fun...also, I didn't specify who this is about, originally I wrote it as a Kirishima fanfic, but a friend of mine said It seemed like a Bakugo fanfic. The choice is yours. This is the first fanfic I've written since I was a young child, so I hope it's not too cringe.

Extra note: Gender-neutral (no mention of gender), slight fluff

Warnings: Slight gore (Just the teensiest bit), general angst, character death, maybe bad grammar, and orbs

_____________________________________________________________

We were by each other five days of the week. You complained and begged for more, but I was resilient. While spending time with you lifted me from my hell, you needed time to yourself and others, even if you denied it. That’s the way it always was, from our days in elementary to now. Five days and nights by each other, two days and nights apart, it felt comfortable enough. A constant schedule, week by week, little to no change. At least, that’s how it was supposed to be, but, alas, even in comfort, there lies pain.

Monday: 5 Days

Five days ago we were studying. I forced you to. You complained about how we were wasting our precious time together doing menial tasks. I scoffed and retorted that studying wasn’t a death sentence; it was an investment towards the future. You pouted, smiled, then pulled out your materials. We sat in silence doing work. Every once in a while, asking each other for help and d clarifying the unknown. It ended when you put your pencil down at around 10 p.m, grabbed my waist, hoisted me up in the air, laughing maniacally as I screamed in surprise. You apologized and laid me down on your bed. I got up protesting as I still had work to do, but you gently grabbed my hand. I looked over at you, staring into your ruby orbs; it was a mistake I always make. I sighed and laid down with you, limbs interlocked, and the night ended.

Tuesday: 4 Days

Four days ago, we sat on my bed, choosing a movie. We have decided to watch The Titanic. A timeless film of sorrowful love. I laughed when Jack slipped; you sobbed; it was silent when the movie ended. You asked me how I could laugh at such a sad scene; I wondered how you could cry at such a hilarious scene. I received your blank stare; I sighed and said that if it made you feel any better, I would either die with you or sacrifice myself for your life. You gasped and said not, that you would protect me at all costs and no one would die. I smiled at that. I didn’t want to start an argument. We went to our rooms that night.

Wednesday: 3 Days

Chaos is an understatement of what happened that day. We decided to make some treats for the class, innocent fun, a time for bonding. Except it wasn’t. Everything was going well; we managed to mix the dry ingredients and the wet ingredients. Until we realized the batter was too wet. My mistake was ignoring the mischievous smile on your face when I asked you to get the flour. The next thing I knew, there was flour on the tip of my nose. That was your mistake. I sneezed, and flour got everywhere. We stood there in silence with shock until you let out a boisterous laugh that filled me with fear yet unbridle warmth. Laughs led to wars; wars led to giggling. Giggles led to Mr. Aizawa finding us covered in ingredients in a messy kitchen. That mess led to us getting scolded and a day of house arrest.

Thursday: 2 Days

Due to our antics of the previous day, we got house arrest. Nothing too significant happened as the class made sure we were busy. Only occasional smiles were thrown before we went to bed.

Friday: 1 Day

I felt anxious the entire day; I spaced out a lot more than I usually do in class. You immediately noticed something was off about me. You asked me, yet I couldn’t give an answer, how could I when even I didn’t know. All I could say was that something felt off. You reassured me, saying that you felt the same way. We decided to brush it off and went on with our day, yet it was so ever-present in the corners of my subconscious. Later that night, as we Laid in Your bed, sleep was difficult to come by. You felt it too. Instead of rest, we decided to go to the balcony. We stared deep into the stars, contemplating meaningless questions, pandering with the time we didn’t have. All through the night, the same dread didn’t go away,y but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. As the sun rose, we talked about the future. We saw each other. We saw our years go by. If only destiny saw the same.

Everything went wrong that day. Villains attacked as we were doing training lessons. We were separated. I tried my hardest to find you in a mess; I’m sure you did the same. When we did come to each other, you were struggling. The brilliant smile you wore was replaced with a grimace. You were trapped. The villain was trying to kill you, yet like a pillar, you stood firm. Yet you were cracked. I took a step forward; that step turned into five steps, four steps, two steps, one more...and then none. I heard you scream my name. I looked over and saw you as a child, crying holding your eye, to you as a middle schooler standing beside me as we watched a large villain antagonize those girls, to you when we walked into UA for the first time, to you when you asked me out, to you when we shared our first kiss, to the current you. Bloodied and battered, eyes rimmed with tears, screaming my name as you ran towards me.

You managed to catch me. I never realized how warm you indeed were. Or how cold I was. You begged me to stay, begged me to wait five days more, even just 5 minutes more. Yet, I couldn’t. I tried reassuring you as I had countless times,s yet all I could manage was a breath. I smiled. You frowned. The five days were up; you are now free to spend the weekend and the rest of the five days with others. I closed my eyes and listened to you sob; my heart slowly stopped, my senses slowly faded, the last thing I remembered was the five days spent watching the world turn, the way our hands interlocked, the comfort you brought. Then darkness.

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 2

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader | streetracer!reader

Word count: 8.3k

Summary: As controversial as it is, it’s Taeyong’s order for me to participate in the most prestigious race of the underground. As one may expect, it is frowned upon by other gang members.

Warnings: disregard for police enforcement | illegal street racing | improper driving | violence | character death | taeyong being the ruthless mafia boss | poor stress management | drinking

A/N !REUPLOAD! sorry I fucked something up. Next parts shall be posted on Tuesdays every two weeks. 

***

Getting up early in the morning isn’t really my thing. I was the most productive during late evenings and nights, and the fact that I had to be ready unusually early fucked up my sleeping schedule. Hopefully, it was the first, and the last time my presence was requested at such an unholy hour. Right after getting introduced to my new workplace, they had to be flexible enough to let me adjust the work schedule to my preference.

Unfortunately, Taeyong didn’t specify how early Lucas wants to see me the next day.  I guessed it was around 7 o’clock in the morning – it was late enough for an early bird, yet early enough for someone who doesn’t really fancy getting up at sunrise.

Having parked my starling Fiat500 in front of the building, I saw a man. He was leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been Lucas. Who else could’ve been? It was the asscrack of dawn, for crying out loud!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… that’s your car?” the man asked as he flicked the butt of the cigarette, stepping on it, grinding it against the ground, visibly galled by my cute feminine vehicle.

“It’s inconspicuous,” I commented, trying to make my point. Blending in after hours was one of the most crucial things in this profession, I didn’t want to go on and scream that I steal cars and race for a living.

“You’re late,” Lucas whispered. Under any other circumstances, I would roll my eyes, but right now, I just couldn’t. I was just staring at him, slowly checking him out. He was ridiculously handsome, and I tried my best not to drool. “I’m Lucas,” he said, sending me a playful smirk.

Politely, I introduced myself despite him already knowing who I was.

“That’s impressive,” Lucas commented, and I shrugged, not wanting to go through this once again. “How did you do it? It’s not that easy to steal Taeyong’s car, let alone Yuta’s,” he added, and I sighed, trying to come up with a vague and equivocal answer.

“What can I say? You’ve gotta have charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.”

“Alright, I get it, keep your secrets,” Lucas voiced, biting his lips as if in deep thought. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure this out,” he promised and smiled, willing to take this secret with me to the grave. (I had a bad feeling in my gut, telling me Taeyong would be pissed if he found out the truth about the theft, and I was too cowardly to admit the facts.)

“Are we gonna stand here the whole day, or are you gonna show me around?” I challenged, and Lucas took a step to the side, gentlemanly letting me enter the car repair shop, following closely behind me.

“Ladies first,” he added, chuckling.

It wasn’t a typical car repair shop. The space was huge, and it could accommodate at least fifteen vehicles. On the inside, it resembled a car factory, but instead of assembling the cars, people were taking them apart.

What surprised me the most was the fact that I was the only female inside. Though I knew it was a stereotypically a male profession, men to women ratio was astounding. I didn’t mind it, though. I knew I could beat every single one of them. Gender didn’t matter at all.

“Let me introduce the guys you’ll be working with,” Lucas mentioned, and a few men stopped what they were doing to look at Lucas and me. “Please, meet Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark,” Lucas introduced them to me, but they didn’t seem very happy to see me. If anything, they seemed a little bit hostile.

“Hi guys,” I said, smiling and waving at them, but their intimidating auras didn’t change. It was awful, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was going to work with them. They obviously didn’t like me and didn’t respect me as if worthy of the same position. And it was especially weird because I knew I was better than all of them combined.

Ignoring their angry glances, Lucas explained their roles in this division. Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle were in charge of tuning up the cars, making sure they’re up to the racing standards. Mark and Jaemin were stealing the cars and bringing them here, and Jeno and Jisung were racing. Later on, Lucas revealed I was assigned to both – car theft and racing, and of course, the boys had to voice their objection.

Apparently, they had never heard of multitasking.

According to them, it wasn’t fair for a rookie member to participate in the street races. This position had to be earned through hard work, and they just couldn’t comprehend how much effort I had put to prove my value to Taeyong.

Well… to be honest, I didn’t suspect any of the boys to ever personally talk to Taeyong.  I highly doubted they had an idea of what I had to go through to get recruited. They probably had never heard of Yuta, let alone been to his area and stolen one of his vehicles.

“I hope we will work together just fine,” I declared, though deep inside, I knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. I was sure the boys were to make my time there miserable.

And, oh boy, I was right…

***

Somehow, I managed to survive a week at my new workplace without quitting. At some point, I was really close to doing so, yet then I remembered what I had gone through to work here, and this thought alone kept me going. The boys were an enormous pain in the ass, but it would definitely take much more than juvenile bullying to make me leave.

I was a lot of things, but definitely, not a quitter.

Having acted tough the whole week, I needed something to help me chill, and the only person I thought of was my best friend – Doyoung. I was a gang member now, but I knew it wouldn’t matter to him – it wouldn’t have any impact on our friendship.

Within an hour, I was already at his car repair shop. Not bothering to announce my arrival, I strolled inside, looking for him. It was already weekend. All of his employees were recharging their batteries for the upcoming week, so the slim pair of legs under the Nissan Maxima must’ve been Doyoung’s.

Smirking, I slammed my hands against the hood, startling him in the process. Swiftly, Doyoung rolled out from under the car, staring at me angrily, as if refraining himself from murdering me with bare hands.

“Jesus Christ,” he yelled when he saw my face, apparently relieved it was me. “Ever since I helped you with that gig, I have terrible anxiety,” he confessed, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same, fearing that someone might want to get rid of me with violence.

“Good thing I stopped by,” I mused, excited to reveal my amazing plans. “I was wondering if you would like to go on vacation with me – my treat. We haven’t spent all the money Taeyong gave me that time, and he hasn’t mentioned anything if he wants the rest of it back, so I thought we could go to the beach. What do you think?”

“More like Mr. Bad Boy’s treat… It does sound tempting, though. Where is the catch?” Doyoung asked suspiciously, knowing me all too well. “Are you on another stupid assignment?”

“Well… not exactly,” I answered, looking away, nervously playing with my fingers. “They’ve accepted me as the newest addition to the family, though some of them gotta warm up to me yet,” I explained, shrugging at the thought of the relentless bullying. “But that’s not the point. Taeyong told me to get rid of the car, and  I thought of kindly returning it to Yuta. It’s only logical I send him back the car plates, yet far from home because I don’t want anyone to trace it back to me.”

Judging by the look on Doyoung’s face, he wasn’t completely sold on this idea.

“It’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll go to the beach, post the plates to Yuta, and then enjoy the rest of the weekend, sipping drinks by the sea. It’s a two-minute risk-free adventure. What do you say? We both deserve some leisure…”

Staring straight ahead, Doyoung must’ve weighed all the pros and cons of my proposition. Ultimately he decided he deserves some alcohol drinks with cute little umbrellas in the glasses.

“What about the other car?” Doyoung asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“I’ll give it back as soon as we return.”

“Fine.”

“Great! Pack your suitcase, the plane takes off in four hours.”

As soon as we arrived, we made a short stop to mail the package to Yuta, praying for him not to trace it back to me. The parcel contained the Ferrari’s plates, a key to the storage room in Japan where Yuta’s vehicle had been kept, and a tiny piece of paper with a sorry written on it. Hopefully, once Yuta gets it back, he will forget about the car ever being stolen.

Later in the evening, we checked into the hotel I had booked, left the baggage, and hit the SPA. Having taken all available services, I was calm, I felt like a lotus flower. Doyoung, however, still was anxious and whiny.

“You need some vitamin D, my friend,” I told him, and he grimaced at me in disgust. “You know… there’s this man, his name is Jaehyun. He’s a guy from work, and I’m pretty sure he could help you let off some steam,” I offered, and Doyoung shook his head, sassily wrapping his lips around the straw, sipping on his third drink of the evening.

To be honest, I doubted Jaehyun swung for the same team, but both of them needed to get laid. Jaehyun because I was really close to start believing his gaze could be literally lethal, and Doyoung because he was so whiny and intractable to be around. I knew it wouldn’t ever work out, but I had to, at least, try.

“I appreciate the proposition, but I don’t hook up with gangsters,” Doyoung said, setting his drink on the counter. “You know what…” Doyoung started, and I rolled my eyes, knowing his further statement will be both funny and hurtful.

When tipsy, Doyoung would often state things harshly without even thinking about running around the bush. “Being your friend has become really stressful recently. It’s a matter of time until I go completely bold, and it will be exclusively your fault.”

“I know…” I agreed, sighing in helplessness. “I’ve been a terrible friend, I’m sorry,” I whispered, resting my head on Doyoung’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’ll never put you in danger again, I promise,” I added, acting way out of my character. Usually, I wasn’t this emotional, but I suspected it was coming from pretending to be badass all the time.

“OK, enough of the weeping, let’s buy some alcohol to go and go get drunk on the beach, waiting for the sunrise,” Doyoung pushed my off of his arm and jumped off the barstool.

“That’s the spirit!”

***

“Gather round people,” Lucas yelled as soon as he entered the car repair shop. As always, he looked like a complete snack, yet I chose not to comment on that. Though we barely spoke with one another, everybody knew how big his ego was, and I didn’t want to inflate it even more.

“What is it?” Haechan whined at Lucas, being annoyed by the interruption.

“The color festival,” Lucas revealed, and everybody grew silent at the mention of the event.

Though a regular person wouldn’t understand what’s that big of a deal, to a car racer, it was an event of the year. It’s an annual the most prestigious car race in the country – participation alone is an honor. It’s every racer’s dream to take part and win, earning a shit load of money and fame. The participation fee is 50 grand per head, after all. Every year the date is different, and only the best racers are talented enough to be a part of it. No wonder Taeyong’s gang will have its representative.

“It takes place this Friday, and Taeyong has already decided who’s gonna represent us this year,” Lucas announced, and the boys started to guess whether it would be Jisung or Jeno. If I had to nominate anyone, it would be Jeno – his drifting skills were no joke. “As I was saying, it’s Taeyong’s direct wish that our special snowflake represents us in the competition,” Lucas specified, and the boys looked at me the way Jaehyun did – with hatred and disgust.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I chuckled drily, but the boys didn’t change their attitudes.

No way! Taeyong couldn’t… he wouldn’t. Well... I expected him to respect me after what I had done, but this… it was too much. Some drivers worked their entire lives mastering their techniques to participate, and right now, I felt as if I had my chance served on a silver platter. The boys must’ve felt the same way.

I deserved to participate, but Jeno and Jisung did as well. I wouldn’t mind sitting this one out. Their bullying was giving me a headache as it was, another reason to pick on me was the last thing I needed at the moment.

“It can’t be,” Jaemin stated, too perplexed to voice a longer statement.

“Well… it must be, Taeyong’s orders,” Lucas added with a smirk on his sexy lips, ignoring all complaints. “Guys, behave, it’s not my decision to make. You can always try next year,” he tried to console the whining boys, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, it only multiplied the anger they felt towards me.

“It’s impossible,” I muttered, but the boys didn’t pay any attention to what I was trying to say, “I’m pretty sure it’s not final. I’ll talk to him, I think I can change his mind,” I continued, but once again my words were muffled by the loud white noise of complaining.

“You can’t just call him,” Lucas remarked, trying to remind me of my position in the hierarchy. Now, when I was a valid member of the organization, I had to follow the rules, and Lucas was my superior to whom I was obligated to report everything back. Talking to Taeyong would be highly unprofessional; I had to stick to the code.

“Can you try to persuade him?” Jisung asked, full of hope.

Lucas laughed at Jisung’s question as if it was one of the funniest things he heard in years.

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck who’s gonna ride this year,” Lucas started truthfully, and I gasped at the harshness of his words. He didn’t sugarcoat nor beat around the bush. “It’s Taeyong’s decision, and I am in no place to question his choice, so beat it.”

His words successfully shut everyone up; Lucas was mean and straight-forward, but it had to be done. Perhaps his leading skills were a little bit rough around the edges, but they managed to get the work done.

“You,” Lucas exclaimed, looking at me. “Meet me here before the race; we’ll pick up the car,” he added, turning around, leaving me alone with the boys, so they could take out all frustrations on me.

“Fantastic.”

***

As expected, the boys, Jeno and Jisung in particular, were giving me hell. It was obvious they were unhappy with Taeyong’s decision, yet I shouldn’t be the receiving end of their relentless bullying. If I could, I’d pay Taeyong a visit and persuade him to change his mind, but just like Lucas said, I was on the very bottom of the gang hierarchy.

At this point, I’d call it quits. Unfortunately, I was too far in the game to bow out. Right now, I could only endure their harassment in hopes of quickly getting promoted, leaving them far behind. It wouldn’t be the most challenging thing I had done for the gang’s sake.

It was a Thursday night. Within 24 hours, I would compete in the most infamous race of the year, and I was beyond mortified. I had drunk half a dozen mugs of double lemon balm, yet the stress was still eating me from the inside out.

It was oddly quiet. Usually, at this time of night, something was going on, but tonight, it was silent. Without any white noise, one could hear a pin drop.

Everything suggested I was alone in the car repair shop. Having slammed down the hood, I wiped my hands in the cloth and looked around. Where was everybody? Did they forget to add me to their group chat? Did they go out for a drink without telling me?

I strolled through their stations, yet I didn’t find anybody. They really left me behind. That wasn’t cool. We weren’t best friends, but I deserved to know if there was a staff outing. Maybe this time around, I’d pass, given the plans I had for tomorrow, but any other time, I’d be down to have a beer with them.

Perhaps, they would warm up to me if we could spend some quality time together.

Once again, I looked around the space and decided to call it a day. There was nothing urgent that I had to finish, so I closed up. I really wanted to come back home, relax, and psych myself up for the upcoming race.

Yawning, I slowly made my way to my car, which was parked two blocks away from the car repair shop. Lucas had suggested it was for the best if the boys didn’t see my vehicle, since it would definitely become another reason to pick on me. Though I didn’t care what they thought of me, I ultimately decided to follow Lucas’ advice. He was my superior for a reason.

The narrow street was barely lit, yet I made my way through it with ease. I had the route memorized by heart, even though I wasn’t completely familiar with this city district.

Once the car conjured in my line of vision, I reached into my backpack, fishing for the keys.

Unfortunately, before I managed to find them, somebody grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me onto the ground. Stupefied, I looked up and saw half a dozen of persons, each of whom clad in a black hoodie and a face mask.

I was being mugged in a dark alley.

The survival instincts kicked in. The adrenaline rush hit me in a matter of seconds. Just like mothers who can lift cars to save their children, I was in a combat mode, ready to fight off all of them. I was outnumbered, but when driven on hormones, I thought I stood a chance to defend myself and kick their asses.

Quickly, I got back on my feet and took a few steps to the back to distance myself from the attackers and strategize my next move. My first idea was to run away, but that wasn’t going to work out. Two men with crowbars crept out of the shadows, depriving me of the only escape route I could think of.

“OK, think,” I whispered under my breath. There were seven of them, two of whom had crowbars, while one of them pulled out a knife. Seven against one, it didn’t sound fair. Back in the day, I had taken some self-defense lessons, but it was a long time ago. If I had some skills unconsciously memorized, they would surely be rusty.

Perhaps, I could bullshit my way out of it.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, but none of the men even flinched. They were frozen in their spots, probably waiting for the best moment to attack. “I don’t have any money on me, but I can give you my wheels,” I proposed, but once again, I didn’t get any reaction. “It’s a measly car, but I got it checked by a mechanic a few days ago. It’s as good as new.”

It was like talking to a wall. I could run my mouth, yet I would never receive any reply.

Plan A didn’t work out.

They weren’t cooperative enough for me to implement plan B.

I had no choice but to go with plan C, which consisted of fighting back, hoping they wouldn’t beat me to death. It wasn’t the most optimistic scenario, but it’s what my mind came up with after doing the math. It wasn’t a fair fight, what were the odds of me winning?

Close to zero.

When I was about to pick which guy I should attack first, the one in front of me made a cutting throat gesture. It did freak me out, but on cue, I ran up to the one with the crowbar and kicked him in the nuts before he managed to smack me with the metal. Instantly, he crumbled down on his knees, dropping the weapon on the ground.

It was my opportunity to try to even the chances.

Everything happened so fast. One second I was wiggling my body from side to side in an attempt to dodge the attack, while a moment later, I was swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat. In all honesty, I wasn’t that bad, I managed to omit most of their punches.

Unfortunately, there were too many of them. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t win. The least I could do was to try to minimize the damage.

Though I could feel a couple of bruises on my thighs forming up and my blood oozing from my shoulder, I gathered enough strength to swing the crowbar at the man, hitting him straight on the neck, knocking him out. As soon as the man’s head collided with the ground, everybody stopped in their tracks, trying to register what just happened.

They couldn’t believe that a woman successfully fought back. It was a small victory, though. Six more angry men wanted to mug me. Or rape me. Or worse.

“You bitch,” one of them yelled, going towards me with a knife as if he wanted to gut me.

I saw everything in slow motion. He ran to me, screaming, and I tightened my grip on the crowbar, getting ready to knock him unconscious, too.

Before he managed to get close enough for me to hit him, we all got blinded by the lights. There was another car in the alley, scaring the men away. In an instant, they picked up their stunned friend and ran away, disappearing in the distance.

My vision couldn’t accommodate this amount of light, so I couldn’t precisely see my savior. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the person behind the wheel, but the vehicle looked like a Ford. Too bad it drove off before I could have a better look.

Worrying the thugs might return, I limped to my car and locked myself in. My pulse was slowly getting back to normal, and the adrenaline was wearing off, making me feel the pain. Each bruise and cut was hurting me, but I inhaled, flooring the accelerator.

***

When I woke up around noon, I was sore all over. Though I had taken some painkillers and put on ointment on the fragile skin, I still felt like shit. I wasn’t the best at treating wounds, and I discovered this fact about myself in the worst timing ever.

How was I supposed to win the most meaningful race of the year when I felt excruciating pain when I had to stretch my arm? How was I supposed to operate the gearbox in this state?

By the time I had to leave my apartment, I felt only slightly better. High on meds, I drove carefully to the car repair shop, expecting Lucas to already be there. It was typical Lucas – giving vague instructions, yet at the same time, demanding precision, or in this case, punctuality.

Gingerly, I parked the vehicle outside the garage, noticing Lucas leaned against the wall, smoking what I hope was just a cigarette. Putting a smile on my face, I undid the seatbelt and exited the car, waving at my superior.

“What the hell are you wearing? Are you going to a race or Lazytown?” Lucas yelled, amused by my outfit. I could bet it wasn’t a typical outfit for street-racing.

Tonight, I chose to wear a pastel pink wig that reached down to my shoulders, a mini dress in the same shade of pink, and a pair of white combat shoes. I had my reasons to wear this type of clothing, though.

First of all – diversion; I hoped the other contestants would underestimate me upon seeing my eccentric outfit. Looks might be deceiving, and at this point, I couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of their judging stares. In this outfit, no one would think of me as a threat.

Second of all – bruises; no one paid them any attention because all the curious gazes were focused on extravagant clothes. Moreover, I could apply another layer of ointment if needed because the skimpy outfit allowed me easy access to my bare skin.

Third of all – Taeyong; pink was his favorite color and it matched his current hairstyle. It was a bold statement to demonstrate whose gang I was representing in the race.

“The outfit is going to serve its purpose, so let me live,” I murmured, not in the mood for friendly banter. Lucas was ridiculously hot, and I respected him, but right now, I didn’t feel like joking around. “What car do you have for me?”

Lucas pulled the sliding doors to the side, letting me in, following right behind me. Though I tried to control my walk, Lucas quickly caught on.

“What’s happened? Why are you walking like that?” Lucas asked in concern, and I told him everything about the men, their attempt to mug me, and the savior. I didn’t even fail to mention how I knocked one of the guys out with a powerful hit in the neck. “I don’t really think it was some random dudes,” he concluded, taking a closer look at my bruises and cuts.

“Huh?” I mused in confusion.

“I think someone wanted to make sure you’re not participating in the race,” Lucas stated. I creased my eyebrows, unable to make sense out of his suspicion. It was ridiculous. Though I knew how to race, my name wasn’t widely known in the illegal underground racing circle. “It can’t be a coincidence you’re getting attacked one night before the event.”

Well… Lucas had a point.

“Can you race?” Lucas inquired, his voice coated in worry.

I did not expect that, but it felt nice. Lucas, being my superior, looked after me, and it was the first time I felt like a legitimate member of the gang.

“I’ve taken a lot of pills, I can pull through,” I stated, smiling half-heartedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, though I could already feel the medication wear off. This insignificant setback wasn’t going to stop me. I had something to prove.

“Alright then,” Lucas said, following me to the back. “Taeyong has personally chosen these cars. You can pick any of them,” he added, and I looked at the beautiful machines in amazement. “Oh, before I forget, he also said you get to keep it if you win.”

“For real?” I asked, and Lucas nodded, smiling at my reaction. “Sweet.”

Now, I really had to win.

Taeyong had selected three vehicles for me to use: BMW M2, Toyota Supra, and Porsche 718 Cayman. The three of them were white and shiny, and it was a real dilemma.

“Tough choice,” I whispered, struggling to make the ultimate decision. Each vehicle had incredible features, and it was impossible to pick the best one. It felt like having a birthday on the same day as Christmas.

“Be quick, we’ve got to go,” Lucas urged me, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. “Make up your mind, woman.”

“OK, fine, fine, let’s go with Toyota,” I answered, and Lucas put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fished out three sets of keys, and threw one for me to catch.

“Let’s go, then,” he added, quickly making his way to the passenger seat.

“How does it feel like to win such a race?” I inquired, breaking the silence inside the car. I was speeding to the abandoned airport, while Lucas was texting with somebody, completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bond with him, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. Three years ago, being the youngest participant, Lucas had won the race, and I really wanted to know how it felt to make history.

Who knew? Maybe I’d be the first woman to win this race this year.

“Fine, I guess,” Lucas answered dismissively, not wanting to engage in the conversation.

“Oh,” I sighed, deciding not to pry further. We would have other opportunities to talk about it.

Once we arrived, Lucas told me to park the vehicle on the start line. The race would start in an hour, and until then, I had to mingle with other drivers and make my presence known. It was time for the rich men to make their bets.

“Hmm… that’s strange,” Lucas commented when I turned off the engine. “Taeyong’s here.”

“Is that strange?”

“He hasn’t attended such an event ever since he had won it five years ago,” Lucas explained, and I nodded my head, registering the new information. When Lucas put it like that, it really seemed out of character. “Interesting,” he added, deep in thought.

When Lucas got out of the car, I searched for Taeyong in the crowd. Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult. This time around, Taeyong was wearing a green tracksuit set, thick-rimmed black Fendi sunglasses, and a pair of simple white sneakers. With his pink-ish hair and a custom-made Dior purse loosely hanging off his shoulder, he did not fit in this picture packed with gangers. Taeyong looked like a stray 4-year-old who got lost in a dangerous alley.

Following Lucas’ example, I exited the vehicle, and leaned against the hood, posing as a confident yet quirky driver. Though I expected everyone to underestimate my skills, deep inside, I wished to be recognized as a serious competition.

Looking around, I stared at Taeyong and deliberately ignored Jaehyun’s death glares. Even from afar, I could sense he hated my guts. I suspected I was the reason why Taeyong was here right now, and Jaehyun was unmistakably displeased by it.

With my eyes locked on Taeyong, I noticed Lucas joined him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever Lucas had told him, it made Taeyong visibly angry.

“Attention racers,” a female voice spoke through the speakers, obtaining everyone’s attention. “The race shall begin in thirty minutes. We ask all racers to pick up the GPS device box at the judge’s lounge. Thank you for your attention and good luck.”

Every participant had to install the device in one’s car. Once set in the vehicle, the racer could see this year’s route and all checkpoints. The fastest one to clear all the checkpoints and come back to the airport would win the competition.

Following all the instructions, I got ready for the race. In a few minutes, twelve cars would leave the airport in an attempt to chase their dreams of fame and success.

I was sitting comfortably in my seat, and though on the outside, I seemed calm, the courtesy of painkillers, I was freaking out internally. I didn’t even notice someone knock on the window, making me jump in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Lucas, you scared the shit out of me,” I cursed, rolling down the window.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he added, smiling genuinely. “I spoke with Taeyong, and he would like to talk to you after the race in his mansion.”

“Oh.”

And with that, Lucas walked away, letting me relax some more before the race. I just had enough time to turn on my playlist, which consisted of Britney Spears’ biggest hits. It always helped me to uplift my mood, and I really needed that.

“Three,” the woman counted out loud, and all participants turned on their engines.

“Two.”

“One.”

At once, all the cars surged forward, and people cheered enthusiastically, not even muffling the loud engine roars.

The route had seven checkpoints in total, and since the race was called the color festival, each stop was named after the rainbow color. There was no specified order in which the contestants ought to clear them, yet most of them chose to drive east, toward the indigo checkpoint.

I, on the other hand, decided to head west. The more drivers in one area, the more chances of dirty tricks, and I didn’t want to end up getting pushed out of the route into the gutter.

Only four racers mirrored my actions, and out of the five of us, I was leading. With ease, I cleared the green checkpoint, but one Britney song later, the driver of the red 2020 Lexus SC caught up to me, driving straight into my back left lights, making me lose control of the vehicle for a second. Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of the situation before I drove into the dangerous turn.

This bastard scratched my car and cleared the yellow checkpoint before me.

I couldn’t let him get away with it.

Flooring the accelerator, I quickly found myself on the right side of the Lexus, staring at the driver. I recognized him in an instant. It was Felix, and he was infamous for dangerous driving. It didn’t matter how many drivers he had to send to the hospital to win the race.

Perhaps, it would be reasonable to let him be, but I was high on meds, and the logical solution fled my mind before I managed to memorize it. The only sensible reaction I could muster in the heat of the moment was hitting him before he hit me again.

Sticking my tongue out for Felix to see, I abruptly turned to the right, pushing him out of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough. Before I drove into another sharp turn, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He was back on the lane, trying to catch up with the rest of the participants.

“Too high, can’t come down, losing my mind, spinning ‘round and round, do you feel me now?” I sang along with Britney, driving through the blue checkpoint.

I was almost halfway through the race, and it was about the time when I ran out of luck. I could hear a loud siren ringing in the distance, followed by red and blue lights. It couldn’t be a good sign. Competing against lunatics was challenging, yet on top of that, I had to lose the police.

My first thought was to let the other drivers catch up to me, and then hope the police would chase them, but I quickly realized it was a dumb idea. The racers would out-speed the police cruisers anyway; it was stupid to purposefully slow down.

The next checkpoint was near, and it was my priority. I’d deal with the police by the end of the race. Of course, only if the police cruisers could handle such speed. It was doubtful, but I chose not to underestimate them.

“Fuck, it can’t be,” I cursed when I noticed the red Lexus again. “He is stubborn,” I added, once again flooring the accelerator, trying to keep as much distance from Felix as possible. This car would be mine if I won, and I didn’t want any more damage.

Then, a few seconds later, another car appeared a couple of hundred meters behind me.

Too bad the police were too incompetent to catch them. The sirens were still ringing in the distance, so it only meant they didn’t give up yet. I didn’t think they stood a chance against any of the sports cars in the race, but it was admirable that they still tried.

The red checkpoint was a couple meters ahead, and I reasoned I needed to step up my game. In order to win, I had to think out of the box. I had to do something they wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t play it safe if I really wanted to win.

Having cleared the red checkpoint, I made a U-turn without slowing down. If it wasn’t for the breaks, the force would pull me out of the lane, sending me flying off the cliff. Felix and the other guy were visibly confused when I started driving right at them.

Going over 180 km/h, I passed them and the police cruiser before I made an abrupt turn, driving through run-down, abandoned properties. Very few people knew this short-cut, and I hoped it would give me the advantage I desperately needed.

With no problem, I cleared the orange checkpoint.                

Only two more to go, I told myself, trying to uplift my mood.

The violet checkpoint resembled a war zone. Three cars were sitting on the side of the road, all scratched and damaged. Compared to this psycho who had done it, Felix was a harmless kitten. Thankfully, he hadn’t chosen to follow the same path as me. It made me sick to think I could be inside of one of these wrecked cars.

Or it was the meds overload in my system.

I couldn’t be sure.

Having passed the final checkpoint, I noticed a sports car. It was heading the same direction, so I concluded it was one of my rivals. The neon green Porsche Boxter was behind me, but it was catching up incredibly fast.

I had to get my shit together, or I was going to lose.

I could see the finishing line in the distance. Unfortunately, the green Porsche was right there, on my left side. Neither of us wanted to lose, and almost at the same time, we turned, smashing against each other. Sparks were flying everywhere, the sound of scratching metal was ringing loudly, yet no one dared to let go.

If I didn’t push him out of my way, we would tie, and this result was unacceptable. With my foot on the accelerator, I turned the steering wheel to the right as hard as I could. The vehicle barely moved to the side, yet it was still making progress.

Maybe it was pure luck, but the Porsche ran over something on the road, and its driver lost control of the car. It was my time to shine, so once again I turned to the right. The vehicles made a 90-degree turn, which resulted in me being the first one to cross the finishing line.

Oh my god, I won.

These guys could suck it because I beat them!

When I got out of the car, Taeyong and Jaehyun were gone. Lucas was the only familiar face in the crowd, and he actually ran up to me to congratulate me. “You won,” Lucas said, beaming. His smile quickly faded away upon seeing how wrecked the car was. “It was a new car,” he cried, calculating the damage.

“It’s still new,” I remarked, but Lucas didn’t find it amusing. Well… I could relate. After all, it was my car. I knew the second the painkillers wear off, I was going to in pain because of what I did to the vehicle. Hopefully, Doyoung would help me get it fixed.

A lady in a deep-cut bikini and sun-kissed tan walked up to me to hand me a bag of cash and a bottle of champagne.

“Everybody, make some noise for this year’s winner,” she screamed into the microphone, making the crowd go crazy.

I was smiling like a lunatic. People were cheering, and it was all for me.

Though I was craving champagne, I knew it wasn’t the best idea to drink it. The pills mixed with alcohol would kill me, so I opted for an alternative celebration. Swinging my arm, I threw the bottle at the car, smashing it against the scratched doors.

“Christening the car seemed appropriate,” I commented when I saw Lucas trying to process what I just did. “At this point, one more tear doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said lifelessly, staring with concern at the vehicle. “You better go. Don’t keep Taeyong waiting. He’s not a patient person.”

***

Having parked in front of Taeyong’s big ass mansion, I made my way to the main entrance and rang the bell. The doors opened a few seconds later, and Jaehyun looked at me from head to toe, stepping to the side, letting me in.

It was my first time in Taeyong’s palace, and the interior was breathtaking. Everything looked expensive, and everyone must’ve felt the wow effect during their first visit. Though I knew he had a shit load of money, witnessing his wealth first hand was an unforgettable experience.

“Stay here, I’ll get Taeyong,” Jaehyun ordered, and I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to mess with someone who could easily murder me. “Don’t touch anything,” Jaehyun added as he turned around, catching me red-handed on trying to brush my fingers against the sculpture, which was set on a coffee table.

Two minutes later, Taeyong joined me in the spacious living room.

“Lucas told me you won,” he spoke as he plopped down onto a leather couch, putting his hands into the pocket of his disgusting green tracksuit. “Good job.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me? To congratulate me?” I asked out loud, wanting to smack myself the moment the words left my mouth. Of course, Taeyong didn’t want to congratulate me; he had invited me to his mansion before the race even began.

“No,” he replied shortly, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to forget this incident. “You know what I will never tolerate?” Taeyong asked, and I sighed in thought.

“I don’t know… Hmm… it’s a wild guess, but is it Hawaiian pizza?”

“No,” Taeyong denied, smirking at my random guess. “I will never tolerate treason, doll.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant. I hadn’t done anything to betray him, yet he still somehow found something to punish me for. No way, it wasn’t possible. Had he figured out how I really had stolen Yuta’s car?

Fuck.

“Come on, doll. Let me show you,” Taeyong whispered, standing up. With his eyes on me, he smiled and stretched his hand. Anxiously, I let him hold his palm around mine as he led me to the basement.

It wasn’t a good omen.

Despite all of my achievements, Taeyong was going to kill me.

“The pink really suits you,” Taeyong spoke out of the blue when we slowly made our way downstairs. “I really like this hair on you,” he added, playing with the ends of my wig.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it,” I answered, trying not to show how intimidated I was.

“Oh, I do, doll,” he smirked, pushing a pair of big pine doors open, stepping to the side, letting me in first.

Inside the room were seven men tied to the chairs with a piece of cloth wrapped around their eyes. Since there was only one light bulb, it took me a while to recognize them.

They were my colleagues from the garage. What the hell were they doing here? Why had Taeyong imprisoned them? What had they done? It was them who had betrayed Taeyong? No, it didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have invited me if it was about them.

“I don’t understand…” I commented, my eyes focused on the tied men in front of me. The moment when I looked at Jisung, I saw a wound on his neck.

Then it hit me.

It was them.

They had tried to kill me last night.

“As I said, I cannot tolerate treason,” Taeyong voiced as he began to rip the makeshift blindfolds off their faces. “Working against the gang is unacceptable, and you dared to hurt one of your own,” he spoke, and I trembled, afraid to witness what’s going to happen next. “Who came up with this stupid plan?”

Silence.

“Alright then,” Taeyong concluded through gritted teeth. It was the first time I saw him this angry, and I was scared. I’d shit my pants if I were the reason for his wrath. “Come here, doll,” he ordered, wanting me to join him. “Pick your weapon,” he told me, and I looked at him in confusion. What did I need a weapon for?

I looked to the right and saw pegboard tool storage on the wall. It was an impressive collection of torture weapons, and Taeyong wanted me to use them on the traitors. It was wrong on so many levels, and I really didn’t want to do it, but the perspective of wronging Taeyong seemed even worse. I would rather hurt them than let Taeyong hurt me.

“We don’t have a whole night, doll,” Taeyong urged me, and I grabbed the first thing which was in my arms’ reach. It happened to be a hammer. “Excellent choice; who should we punish first?” Taeyong asked, resting his arm over my shoulder, smiling like a maniac. Without any doubt, it was to bring him a lot of pleasure.

“I don’t know…”

“Alright, then,” Taeyong smiled in amusement before he started to sing the eeny, meeny, miny, moe counting rhyme to select the first victim. At first, I didn’t look, but once Taeyong stopped singing, I opened my eyes to see that his finger was pointing at Haechan.

“Do what you gotta do, doll,” Taeyong ordered happily, leaning against the wall, making sure he had the best view at the scene unfolding in front of him.

I wanted to cry, but I tried my best not to. As a part of a gang, it was inappropriate to show vulnerability. I didn’t want Taeyong to revoke my membership, especially when the only way to leave the gang was through excruciating death.

“Where should I start?” I asked myself under my breath, having no idea how torturing worked. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way of inflicting the least amount of pain, while maintaining the expected level of Taeyong’s satisfaction.

Having closed my eyes, I swung my arm, hitting Haechan’s palm with the hammer, making him groan in pain. “You bitch,” he cursed, and I repeated the blow a couple of times until his hand looked like a smashed pomegranate.

Haechan was yelling in pain, Taeyong was chuckling in amusement, and I tried my best to refrain myself from crying. Though I didn’t particularly like Haechan, and he had been a real pain in the ass with the bullying, he didn’t deserve such punishment. How was he supposed to work at the garage without his dominant hand? His career was basically over. It was a dick move to attack me, and though I was awfully petty, the punishment was too severe.

“Who came up with this stupid plan?” Taeyong questioned again, yet none of the boys dared to speak. Not even Haechan, who was in a tremendous amount of pain. “Here, hold this,” he added, handing me a baseball bat, “I got bored of the hammer.”

Obediently, I grabbed the baseball bat and hit Haechan in the stomach until he started coughing blood on my pink dress. “What the fuck?” I cursed, getting angry at the minor inconvenience.

“Stop it, you’ll kill him,” Jisung yelled, trying to shimmy himself out of the ties. “I did it. I told them to beat her up. She didn’t deserve to ride in this race,” he carried on, and Taeyong sighed, walking up to Jisung nonchalantly with his hands loosely tucked in the pockets.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Taeyong asked as he bent a little and caressed Jisung’s chin. “I really appreciate your honesty,” he added before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

It was hard to process, but he really did shoot Jisung.

“Good job, doll,” Taeyong congratulated me with a smile before he fired his gun once again, this time shooting through Haechan’s forehead. “What? He was useless without his hand anyway,” he commented upon seeing my shocked reaction.

“You’re not gonna kill them, are you?” I quietly asked as I leaned against Taeyong’s frame, clinging to his chest. None of them deserved to die, yet I hoped Taeyong would spare the remaining five.

“No, I think it was enough for them to learn their lesson,” Taeyong revealed, and I sighed in relief, glad the bloodshed was over. It was the first time I saw somebody get killed, and it was a morbid sight. I wouldn’t mentally handle the situation if he decided to murder them all.

“Can we go now? The blood makes me sick,” I confessed, and Taeyong once again wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me to his side, and led outside. Surprisingly, regardless of what I had seen a while ago, his hug felt genuine. “I have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you know it was them?”

Taeyong smirked, “who do you think was in that car that scared them off?”

“You?” I asked, cocking up my eyebrow, trying to process the newfound information.

“No, what I would be doing there?” Taeyong denied, making me even more confused. “I told Jaehyun to pick you up and bring to my mansion. However, when he saw you were attacked, he drove off and hunted them down.”

“I guess I owe him big time.”

[the-mighty-jellybean]

Black & Blue

Bruise: an injury appearing as an area of discoloured skin on the body, caused by a blow or impact rupturing underlying blood vessels...

Series Summary: ‘They littered her arms like splashes of watercolor paints, Steve couldn't stop staring, she pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan when she caught him. “I fell.” she muttered, pulling the fabric tight over her fragile body. All Steve wanted to do was pick her up, and put her in a box, like you would a broken bird. He wanted to fix this little bird, but he didn't know how.’

Pairing: Doctor!Steve x Reader, Brock x Reader

Series Warning: This story is going to be quite dark and heavy, and will contain heavy themes of domestic abuse. There will be: Violence and possible Noncon, if you are uncomfortable with any of these themes, please don't read, this book won't be for you.

Part One// Part Two//

Part Three: Stitches 

Chapter Warning: Don't think there’s any swearing in this chapter, Controlling Behaviour, Description of Injury. 

Word Count: 3.8K

The entire drive to Sinai, Y/N anxiously, plucked at the skin on her arms, her non-injured foot tapping, on the crumb covered mat the whole time.

“Honestly Hope, my foot feels fine now.” Y/N lied for the thousandth time, as Hope just shot her a disapproving look.

“I don’t know why you keep saying that,” Hope rolled her eyes, as she turned the wheel into the ER Department, “every time I went over a bump, you winced.”

“Yeah I just had lunch.” Y/N shrugged, but once again Hope was not convinced.

“Bullshit, I watched you eat a breakfast bar, and then had a bucket of coffee.” Hope commented as she climbed out of the car.

Y/N’s heartrate began to accelerate, when her and Hope approached the automatic doors. People were coughing and spluttering as they waited to be seen; a few people were moaning and groaning in dark corners, clutching at blood covered bandages and sores.

“Hi, my friend here has hurt her foot, I think it might be broken.” Hope explained to the bored looking receptionist, who just chewed on her gum, and typed furiously into her computer.

“Insurance card.” The woman’s nasally voice, made Y/N cringe, but she saw this as her chance.

“Oh damnit, I’ve left my insurance card at home, welp thanks anyway.” Y/N tries to hobble away, only to crumple to the floor, as a stabbing pain shoots up her leg, causing her to lose her balance.

Y/N cries out, clutching at her foot, Hope bends down placing a reassuring hand on Y/N’s back.

“It’s okay, we’ll take it from here.” Y/N recognised the low voice behind her, and it made her heart pound even harder than it was before, but she was brought out of her thoughts by two strong hands wrapping around her waist.

This caused Y/N to spring away, her fight or flight mode activated.

“Whoa, easy there. I’m just gonna sit you in this chair.”

Through Y/N’s eyelashes, she looks up at the tall man stood before her, and she curses silently in her head, when her predictions were true, and the man from Y/N’s recent visit, is standing over her.  

He looks just as handsome as he had done last night. His blonde hair was neatly styled, he was clean shaven, all features drew attention to his beautiful blue eyes. If Y/N wasn’t scared witless of the other gender, then she would have found him quite attractive.

However, she was quickly yanked from her daydream, when he tried once again to lift her into the wheelchair, that she now saw had been parked in front of her.

Y/N backed away, her foot thrumming with pain, and her hand decided to join in on the pain party. Crying out, she wrapped her arms around her body, in hopes of making herself look smaller; she had noticed by now that people were staring, her breathing sped up at the thought of her gathering an audience.

“Y/N, what are you doing, just get in the chair.” Hope was confused by Y/N reaction, and she tried to push Y/N towards the chair, but Y/N just pulled her arms even tighter over herself, as she tried to slow her breathing.

“It’s okay, thank you for bringing her, we can help her now, why don’t you grab her and yourself a coffee.” The man’s dulcet tones filled Y/N’s eardrums, and she leaned towards the voice, only to jolt herself back into reality, when she realised what she was doing.

Watching Hope’s feet disappear, Y/N edged her eyesight upwards, so that she was now staring at the man’s hands, which were once again coming towards her.

“Please don’t.” Y/N begged, as she pushed her head into her knees, which she brought painfully towards her chest, careful not to put too much weight onto her foot, and she used her non-wounded foot, to softly rock herself back and forth.  

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you.” Y/N stopped rocking when the man spoke her name. He had remembered her; he had remembered her name. Now Y/N felt bad, that she couldn’t remember his.

Peeking up at him, she noticed that he had crouched down, so that he could try and be eyelevel with her.

“You’re okay. No one will hurt you here.” he smiled warmly at her, and she could almost believe him, but she swallowed thickly remember that she had learnt that she couldn’t trust anyone, a long time ago.

“Do you think you can hop into this chair for me, so I can take you through, to look at that foot?” He spoke so kindly, Y/N felt like she could melt, but internally shook her head, and just gave a stiff nod.

“Do you need some support, or can you-“

“I can do it.” Y/N spoke shortly, and the man nodded in understanding.

Shakily, Y/N managed to stand upright, and hop her way over to the wheelchair, before landing heavily into the material.

Y/N couldn’t look up, as she knew that the people in the waiting room, would have been staring at her, so instead she kept her eyes focused on her fingers, which had once again gone back to plucking at the skin on her arms.

Instead of wheeling her into a normal cubicle bay, Steve thought that Y/N would want a little more privacy, so pushed her into a side room, usually used for trauma calls, but with it being nearly 3 o’clock on a Tuesday, he didn’t imagine it was going to be in high demand.

“Now let’s take a look at that foot.” Once again Steve tried to help Y/N stand, but she pulled away from him, Steve immediately backed off, allowing the girl to make her own way onto the bed.

Y/N pulled herself up onto the crisp white sheets, hugging her arms close to her body, as she followed the man’s every move.

“I’m going to need to take your shoe off, is that alright?” Steve asked Y/N gently. Y/N didn’t verbally reply, just nodded her head, eyes fixed on Steve’s hands, “I’ll go as slowly and be as careful as I can, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the name, and she had to take some subtle breaths to calm the heat that spread to her cheeks.

To Y/N’s surprise, the man was delicate in the way that he unlaced her shoe and slid it off. Of course, it stung, when he was removing the item, which made Y/N grimace, but the man was quick to say sorry.

“I apologise again, but your sock’s also going to have to come off, as well, this one might be a bit trickier.” Steve prewarned, he tentatively took hold of Y/N’s ankle, careful not to put to much pressure on it; he smiled to himself when she didn’t flinch away from his touch.

Y/N was amazed at how soothing the man was trying to be; it was like every movement he made, he had deeply thought about.

When the sock was finally removed, Steve tucked it into the shoe, and placed it to one side, before turning back to the badly mangled foot.

“How did you do this, doll?” Steve pulled on a pair of white gloves, before running his finger along the purple bruise that had already formed on the flesh. It reminded him of the ones, he had seen covering her arms, his chest aching at the thought.

“I did it at work.” Y/N responded weakly.

“Where do you work?” Steve asked casually, but Y/N just looked down, “Do you work for the FBI? Can’t tell me, or you’d have to kill me.” Steve jokes, but Y/N just sucks his lips in, eyes darting around the room.

“I’m going to need a little more than ‘at work’, darlin.” Steve sighed, when some time had passed, and Y/N still hadn’t told him how she had hurt herself.

Y/N took a deep breath in, before deciding to break her silence; “I dropped a weight on it,” she spoke so quaintly, Steve almost didn’t hear: “quite a few weights, actually.”

Steve gave her a small smile, to show her that it was okay that she had told him and was grateful that she had, “well it doesn’t appear to be broken, but it is very bruised, I’d like to give you an x-ray just to be on the safe side.”

Steve concluded, and Y/N just nodded along with his words in understanding. Steve’s eyes flicked down to Y/N’s hands, one of them was picking at the skin on her forearm, and he noticed the stained bandaging on the hand he had treated the night before.

“How’s your hand doing?” Steve moved towards her, but he was a little too quick for Y/N’s liking, and she backed away, Steve held his hands up in defence, “Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Just couldn’t help but notice that the bandage on your hand looks a little dirty, is it hurtin you?”

Y/N contemplated for a moment, whether she should tell him that she thought that her stitches had burst, but she didn’t want to have to deal with the follow up questions, so she just remained silent.

Steve’s mouth twitched when his question was met with silence, so he decided to try and get on Y/N’s level like he had done out by the entrance, as she seemed to be less threatened by that.

Steve moves up the bed, unwillingly ignoring the way, Y/N tried to scramble up the bed, and he squatted down, just next to her, “can I take a look at your hand, sweetheart, I’ll be gentle, just like I was with your foot, I promise?” Steve shows her his hands, so she knows that he won’t move till he gets an okay.

Y/N is confused, she doesn’t know what to do; her hand was sore, and it still throbbed a little. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her not to trust him, but it was as if she were on autopilot, something about this man, made her feel safe, as she found herself nodding to his request.

Y/N was even more surprised, when she felt herself giving her hand to him, and letting him hold it gracefully in his palm.

Steve reached into a draw, and pulled out a pair of small scissors, which he cautiously slipped under a slight lift in the bandage and began to cut the white material.

Y/N watched him closely, as he began to peel the protective gauze from her palm, but both of them couldn’t contain their surprise, when blood began to dribble out from under the fabric.

Steve jumped up, but Y/N wasn’t looking at him, instead her eyes were fixed on the crimson liquid that had moved from dribbling to quite significant leakage, that was sliding down her palm, onto her wrist.

Steve had sprung into action grabbing another pad to cover the wound to stem the blood, Y/N allowed him to press it into the gash, trying his best to stem the flow.

“What happened, sweetheart? I was quite proud of those stitches.” Steve tried to lighten his question, but Y/N’s ears had only focused on the first part. Her brain couldn’t think of anything quick enough, so once again opted for the silent treatment.

“It’s alright, I can just redo them, but I might need someone to help me.” Steve spoke as he went about wrapping the hand, just to stop of the blood from dropping on Y/N’s clothes.

“No!” Steve was startled by Y/N’s outcry, and it appeared so was Y/N, as she sunk back into the pillow, avoiding Steve’s gaze, “I don’t want anyone else.”

“I might need someone, doll, you’ve got quite the bleed, I need someone to help me remove the old stitches, before I can put in the new.” Steve tried to reason with Y/N, but she just shook her head, “Okay, how about if I promise to get a nurse to help me?”

Steve whispered, and Y/N’s ears perked, “what if I promise that the help will be another woman, would that be better, darlin?”

Y/N thought about that for a moment, and she nodded, not minding the sound of that, and Steve gave her a reassuring smile.

“Okay. Can you hold this for me, as tight as you can, we don’t want any more blood staining those lovely pants of yours.” Steve placed Y/N’s other hand on top of the bandaged that he had wrapped around her arm. At least this would stop two problems; the leakage coming from the wound, and with both hands occupied, Y/N wouldn’t be able to pluck her skin.

For a moment, Y/N was left alone, only for her silence to be broken abruptly, by Hope bursting through the door, carrying two coffees.

“You are a hard woman to find.” She joked, she tried to hand Y/N a coffee, but Y/N lifted her hands up and gave her a look, making Hope snort, “whoops sorry, should have got you a straw.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Y/N’s face, but it quickly disappeared, when the sound of the door, made her jump.

“Oh, you found us.” Steve chuckled, motioning to Hope, behind him trailed Wanda, carrying stitching supplies.

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy, but I found you.” Hope joked, “what’s she gone and done now, I told Brock we’d be in and out.”

Y/N’s blood ran very cold, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end: “you told Brock what?!”

Everyone was startled by Y/N’s clear panic, as she shoots daggers, at the happy-go-lucky girl, who wasn’t smiling anymore.

“I just rang him to tell him, where you were. I thought he should know.”

“Why, why would you need to do that, you didn’t have to, I didn’t ask you to, why would you do that?” Y/N begins to fumble over her words, as she becomes terror-stricken.

“Hey chill, I told him I’d give you a lift home, he didn’t need to come and get you, and that you’d see him at home,” Hope responded defensively, “I don’t know what the big deal is, he is your boyfriend, he has a right to know where you are.”

“What gave you the right to tell him, I could have done that.” Y/N’s words were quick and showed obvious signs of distress.

Steve watched the two women interact, and he watched as Y/N’s chest was till heaving up and down, the hand he’d hoped would remain occupied was back tugging at the surface of her arm.

“Everyone needs to just calm down.” Steve interrupted before anyone else could speak, “now if you’re going to be in here, I need you to support Y/N, not stress her out,” Steve pointed at Hope, who just breathed in deep through her nose, before giving Y/N an apologetic look.

“And Y/N,” Y/N was surprised when Steve said her name, and it broke her harsh glare that she had been pointing at Hope, “I need you to breathe for me, your quickened breath is making your heart work faster, and that is making the blood pump around your body a lot quicker, which is causing the bleeding of your hand to get worst.”  

Steve moved closer to Y/N, and watched her closely, as she tried to steady her breathing, much to Steve’s surprise, when he reached for her hand, she didn’t resist him, and gladly let him hold it, rubbing his thumb over the top, as he bent down.

“That’s it, that’s more like it. Deep breaths. In through your nose, and then out through your mouth.” Steve coached Y/N, and she allowed him to help guide her. Slowly her chest began to settle into a gentler rhythm, once it did, Y/N realised that she had been staring into Steve’s eyes, and she quickly looked away, taking her hand with it.

Steve had to stop himself from frowning, but his attention was taken from Y/N anyway, when Wanda cleared her throat.

“I’m going to need to numb your hand first, remove the old stiches, and then Dr Rogers, can stitch it up, after that we can send you to x-ray, and we can go from there.” Wanda spoke with a mellow tone, and Y/N nodded along with her instructions.

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” Hope offered, when the nurse began to move towards Y/N, with a large needle filled with anaesthetic, “I know what you’re like with needles.”

Despite Y/N still being angry with her, she did except the offer of Hope’s hand, as the brunette was telling the truth, you were deeply afraid of needles.

“Okay sharp scratch, and then it’s going to feel a little fuzzy, and then should just go numb.” The nurse explained, and Y/N nodded her head.

She didn’t look away, as the nurse approached her hand with the needle, but she did hiss, when the needle pierced her skin. Y/N attention was pulled from her hand, when she felt a pressure on her ankle, Y/N’s eyes darting down to see Dr Rogers, rubbing at the exposed skin of her ankle, the touch was oddly soothing.

~~~~

“Right, and that is the last stitch. You’re all done.” Steve smiled at Y/N, he watched the sides of her mouth twitch up, into what was a very fleeting smile, before she pulled her hand away from him, clutching it back to her chest.

“No more glass smashing for you.” Steve jested.

“Glass smashing? You told me you cut yourself with a knife.” Hope looked down at Y/N confused.

“Did I, whoops must have gotten confused, you know after the accident and everything.” Y/N tried to cover up, but Hope’s bemused look went unchanged.

“But you told me that, before you hurt your foot.”

“Speaking of my foot, what is happening to it?” Y/N changed the topic of conversation and looked to Steve pleadingly.

“Just going to pop you off to X-ray and then you should be off home.” Y/N was relieved, when Steve decided to continue on with the treatment plan, rather than joining in with Hope’s interrogation.

~~~

The ride home in Hope’s car, was just an eerie silence. The foot wasn’t broken, like Dr Rogers said, just badly bruised, and would most likely be healed in a few days.

Y/N was eager to get home, but a part of her wishes she was still under the watchful eye of Steve.

Y/N’s eyes gaped, when she reiterated that thought in her mind, what was she talking about. She loved Brock, Brock protected her, Brock looked after her. She just needed to forget about Dr Rogers and move on with her life with Brock.

When the car eventually stopped outside Y/N and Brock’s shared home, as fast as her bandaged foot, and the crutches the hospital had lent her, could carry her, she was jumping out of the car, and hobbling up the steps, as she yelled a goodbye over her shoulder.

Y/N’s hands were shaky, as she fumbled around with her keys, eventually finding the right one, she pushed the door open, and closed it sharply behind her.

“Hello?” she called out, “anyone home?”

“In here, baby.” Y/N swallowed thickly, when the sound of Brock’s voice echoed along the hallway, she couldn’t tell his mood, by the tone of voice he used. However, she didn’t stop to ponder, as she quickly tugged her shoes off, as mindful as she could of both her hand, and foot.

Then she scuttled into the living room, where Brock was reclined on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, whilst he sipped on a beer, watching some random game on the TV.

“Hey honey, how was work?” Y/N asked, limping towards him.

“Not bad, slow, but not bad,” Brock responded comfortably, “Hope called me and said you had to go to the ER, what happened?”

Now Brock had turned to face Y/N, and she gave him a weak smile, but his eyes widen when he watched her wobble on her feet, using the crutches for stability.

“Oh baby, are you okay?” Brock jumped to his feet, “here, come sit on the couch, do you want some ice for your foot?”

Before Y/N could get a word in, Brock had picked her up and placed her in his spot, grabbing a cushion, and carefully sliding her foot onto it.

“It’s okay, I just-“

“Wait a minute, babe. I’m just going to grab you some ice.” Brock disappeared into the kitchen, to return shortly, with a bag of frozen peas, “Sorry princess, we don’t have any ice, will these be okay?”

“Yeah, they’ll be fine, but Broc-“

“Do you want something to drink: water, coke…something stronger?” Brock kept fussing, until Y/N grabbed his hand.

“I just want you to sit with me.” Y/N pouted, and Brock gave her kind smile.

“Of course, budge over a little.” As best she could, Y/N managed to shuffle along the couch, allowing Brock some room to settle in beside her. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her close, Y/N rested her head on his chest, as she drew patterns into his t-shirt.

“What happened?” Brock’s chest rumbled, when he asked Y/N the question.

“I dropped some weights on my foot, it was my fault I wasn’t paying attention.” Y/N replied innocently.

“Why weren’t you concentrating, baby. You got something on your mind?” Brock began tracing along Y/N’s arms, the motion tickled Y/N, but she couldn’t decide whether she found the movement comforting or worrying.

“I just wasn’t looking where I was putting things, didn’t realise the rack was already full.” Y/N didn’t pay attention to the way Brock’s chest had changed in its movement, as his breathing had become a lot shallower.

“Maybe you shouldn’t work there no more, if you keep hurting yourself?”

“What?” Y/N sat up, and looked up at his dark eyes, “I’ve only hurt myself once, and this was it, why would I quit I like my job.”

“Well you clearly don’t enjoy it, if you aren’t concentrating on the tasks they give you.” Brock challenged.

“I was just chatting with Hope, and lost focus for a moment, I love my job, I don’t want to quit.” Y/N protested.

“But you don’t need it, princess. Not with my wage, you can stay home like a proper little housewife.” Y/N scrunched her face up, at his idea.

“Firstly, I’m not that kind of girl, and secondly, I’m not your wife.” Y/N jutted her eyebrows up at him, but Brock’s eyes only seemed to get darker.

“Not yet you aren’t.” Brock grumbled, barely audible. “What kind of girl are you? Clearly you aren’t very clever, otherwise you wouldn’t be working in some lousy gym, like some college dropout?”

Y/N’s eyes stung at his words, but she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and decided she couldn’t trust her voice.

A silence fell upon them both, as Y/N turned back to the TV, but Brock’s glare didn’t leave the back of Y/N’s head.

A/N: Went on a six mile walk today, I sweated in places, I didn't know it were possible!!! 

Part Four//

Taglist:

@this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru​ @cutie1365​

[artificialqueens]

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 3 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! I was going to update earlie but things happened...... so here's a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it <3

-3-

It was late when they went back to their room, Jan had only two classes in the afternoon but Rosé had one in the morning, yet, they talked for what it felt like hours and Jan only stopped speaking to read Jackie’s message. She was very happy. During that day she had made several friends –something she couldn’t have imagined a week before- she had met some of her professors and attended a couple of classes so she wouldn’t feel as nervous the following day.

In the morning she heard cursing in whispers when Rosé’s alarm went off announcing she had to get ready to go to class. After the girl left, Jan had the room for herself. She laid in bed watching videos on Instagram for a while and then decided it was a good moment to take a shower and get a cup of coffee.

Tuesdays were her lightest days and she could get used to it. She felt fresh out of the shower, braided her hair, and put on some clean clothes before walking out of the dorms.

On her way out she crossed paths with Nicky and who seemed to be her roommate. The girl had orange long hair and a great amount of makeup on but that worked perfectly on her. She also wore high waist pants with a turquoise loose blouse and dangling earrings. Nicky looked as great as the day before with a mauve off-the-shoulder mini dress and a high ponytail.

“Jan!” She waved at her.

“Hi, Nicky! How are you?”

“I’m doing good, thank you.” She smiled at her. “This is Crystal, my roommate. Crystal, this is Jan, the friend I talked you about.”

“Hi!” Crystal greeted Jan with a lot of energy. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Crystal. Well, I kind of feel like I know you through your room.”

“Oh, God…” She blushed. “I’m not taking the One Direction poster off, I already told Nicky.”

“I swear Niall’s eyes follow me whenever I’m in the room.” Nicky shivered.

Jan giggled.

“I have to go, I’m already running late.” Crystal said while checking the time on her phone. “See you guys later.”

“Don’t forget your keys…” Nicky reminded her.

Crystal pulled a key set with tons of colorful keychains. “Never again. Bye, Jan.”

“Bye!”

After the girl left, Nicky looked at Jan. “You missed a great dinner yesterday.”

“Oh, I imagine but I needed to spend some quality time with my roommate. But I’m still craving Thai food since it was mentioned.”

“There’s no choice, we’ll have to go back soon.”

“Please.”

“Are you heading to class?”

“No, I have my Tuesday mornings free. I was getting some coffee, actually.”

“Ugh, lucky you. I have a class in thirty minutes. Do you mind if I get coffee with you?”

“Sure, that’s great because I was going to google where the café is, I have no idea.”

Nicky just smiled. “I’ll show you the way.”

They walked for a couple of minutes; Nicky pointed to the café’s exterior when they got closer. As soon as they got in the smell of freshly brewed coffee embraced them. Autumn was around the corner and college students demanding pumpkin spice lattes prematurely were flooding the place.

Luckily for them, the line moved fast and the barista quickly took their orders. Jan ordered decaffeinated –because she wasn’t technically allowed to drink coffee after that one incident on St. Patrick’s day- but she compensated it with a lot of sugar and whipped cream. Nicky, on the other hand, asked for an iced Americano.

While they were waiting sitting at a little table, Jan recognized the familiar figure of the one person from her hometown she so badly wanted to see.

“Oh my God…” She suddenly felt coy when he started walking in their direction.

“Janie!” He greeted the girl but his eyes went directly to Nicky who was unimpressed while on her phone.

“Hi, Nathan.”

The name rang a bell for the blonde girl who looked up.

“How are you doing?” He rested half of his arm on almost all the table’s surface.

“Oh you know… just chilling before classes. I have Tuesday mornings free.” She tried to sound chill, smooth even.

“Cool…” He kept staring at the other girl a little too much. “Who’s your friend?”

“Ah, yes… this is Nicky, she’s in the same dorm as I am… Nicky, this is Nathan, he’s…”

“A friend from New Jersey.” He extended his hand to shake Nicky’s but the girl glared at him.

At that moment, their names were called by the barista.

“I’ll get the coffee.” Nicky rushed to leave the table. “Salaud…” She murmured before going.

Jan was thankful because now she had some time to speak with Nathan alone.

“So how’s the-”

“Janie, your friend is smoking and she’s French or something, right? That’s hot. Do you think you could set us up?”

Jan’s spirit sank. She should’ve guessed.

“Uh… I don’t think she’d be interested. She’s already dating someone.”

“What a shame because she’s one hundred percent eye candy.”  His gaze followed Nicky’s curves.

“Besides, I thought you liked that girl you met yesterday,” Jan mentioned shyly.

“Abby? She’s alright I guess but this is week one, I have to keep my options open, you know?” He shrugged. “Can’t wait to hit the baseball field next week again, huh?”

“Yes! I’m so excited about it, actually-”

He threw his backpack over his shoulder. “I gotta run, Janie.”

“Oh, okay… see you.”

“Tell your friend that if she ever needs a rebound…” He left, still looking in Nicky’s direction.

Jan tried to smile but she ended up with a weird grimace.

The blonde returned to the table when he was away.

“Here’s your drink…” She tried to put a real smile on the girl’s face but she failed. “Jan, what is it? Did he tell you something?”

“Oh, no… it’s nothing.” She took a sip of her sweet beverage but didn’t enjoy it as she intended. “It’s just Nathan being Nathan…”

Nicky bit her tongue to avoid telling her he seemed like an asshole.

Jan looked at Nicky, of course he’d be interested in her. She was beyond gorgeous and she was stylish as hell with her pretty dress and makeup while Jan had barely washed her face and put on the first pair of joggings and a graphic t-shirt she found in her drawers.

“I bought you a cookie.” She slid the little chocolate treat in front of her.

“Aw, Nicky… thank you.”

Nicky squeezed her shoulder.

“I have to go to class but I don’t want to leave if you’re feeling down.”

Jan shook her head. “No, I’m fine, really…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, I’ll go to the library or drop by the copy room to annoy Jackie a little.”

“She’s in class during the mornings, someone else is running the copy room in the mornings.”

Jan sighed. “The library is then.”

“Always exciting.” Nicky checked the time on her watch. “Now I really have to go. See you later, dear.” She blew a kiss in the air.

“For sure.” She smiled to show Nicky everything was alright even when it wasn’t.

But enough of being pitiful, she had a cup of coffee, a cookie, and the sun was shining outside. She had this.

The library turned out to be a great place to spend some spare time between classes. Jan met the librarian –Mrs. West- who was probably one of the sweetest people she had ever seen and she was kind enough to explain Jan the rules –besides keeping it low in the study and reading area- Jan walked directly to a free desk and pulled out her computer. She needed to check if she was registered correctly on her classes once again just to be sure and she had to revise if her teachers from the previous day had left some new reading –they did.

She read the two papers and prepared a little draft for the next class before she noticed, it was almost noon. Nicky had said Jackie had classes in the morning but maybe she was free already, so Jan pulled out her phone and typed a quick text.

To Jackie C.: Hi Jackie! Nicky told me you were in class I was wondering if you’re out already, I can drop by the copy room :D

The reply arrived a minute later.

From Jackie C.: I’m already out and heading to the copy room, I’ll be there in no time.

And with that, the girl picked up her things and walked following the map that was scribbled over. She rushed toward the copy room in a way that her former high school teacher would’ve scolded her for« running in the hallways». Finally, she opened the door of the room carefully.

“Hello…?” She walked in.

“I’m over here.” Jackie had a little closet in the corner open. “I’m picking some toner for the machine. I swear, every morning it’s the same, Yvie forgets to change it every time and I have to-”

Jackie smiled as soon as she saw Jan waving in front of her.

“Hi, there.”

“Hi! Thank goodness you’re out of class I was so bored… Well, I was being «productive» or something like that –I’m guessing it’s something college students aspire to be- but then the internet of the library started malfunctioning and I got distracted with the little T-Rex game –do you know which one? With his little jumps and tiny arms, it was so cute- and then I wasn’t being productive anymore so…”

“It’s so good to see you again.” Jackie shook her head.

“How was your morning?” She moved closer to the counter.

Jackie pointed at the chair next to her and Jan sat there.

“All of my classes are during the mornings; that’s how I get to work here after I’m done with them.” She explained while changing the copy machine’s toner. “On Tuesdays, I have this one class with a professor that absolutely despises everything I say because –and listen to this- «I try to push a gender agenda» on his classes.” She scoffed. “Only because they don’t mention women in art centuries ago it doesn’t mean that they weren’t there… it’s ridiculous.”

Jan listened to Jackie ranting for ten minutes about the class, the girl was fuming but there was something entertaining about seeing her mad and the way she gestured as if it was a Ted talk… not to mention she did it all while doing the maintenance work of the printers.

“I’m sorry, I really went off with it…”

“No! It’s okay. I don’t know much about art and listening to you is like actually taking a class… but more engaging because you’re pissed and it shows.”

“Yeah… I have to tone it down in class or that… professor… is going to fail me.” Jackie let a big sigh out of her chest. “Anyway, I’m sure Nicky told you about last night’s dinner…”

“Yes! I wanna eat Thai food so badly now… Nicky is great by the way, she’s very nice and helped me a lot with the dorm things. Thank you so much for introducing me to her and Jaida.”

“No worries. They all liked you the moment they met you anyway.”

Jan beamed and blushed a little.

“So, you met your roommate…”

“Oh, right! My roommate, Rosé, is great… we got along like, instantly and she’s a theatre major so now I’m sharing the dorm with a Broadway fangirl. It’s going to be fun.”

“Wait, isn’t that the girl with the pink hair? I’ve seen her a couple of times I think.”

“Yeah, she thought you were very serious.”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m nice, I have a reputation to keep.”

Jan giggled. “But you are nice! I can’t believe people think otherwise.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what, I’m having lunch with her right now. I have a class at one so I was going to head to the cafeteria, why don’t you come with me?”

“I’d love to but I have to stay a little longer before taking my lunch break. If you have a class at one you better hurry before it gets too crowded there.”

“Oh, that’s too bad… I’ll get going there but… text me later?”

“Sure.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Okay, have a nice day! See you later!” The younger waved on her way out.

“Bye, Jan.”

At lunch, Jackie sat with her friends and while she tried to finish reading a museum review of a new exhibition, she got a text message from Jan telling her how boring the class was. Jackie shook her head and replied back to her shortly after.

Widow was next to her chatting with Heidi, Jaida was sitting across the table typing on her phone until Nicky arrived so the quick smile that appeared on her face went unnoticed –thank goodness.

“Bonjour, mon rayon de soleil.” Nicky kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll pretend I understood every word… hi, baby.” She kissed her back.

The blonde sat next to her and they shared a lovey-dovey look.

“I want what they have,” Heidi whispered while looking at their friends. “What does take to get a girlfriend here? I’m in the art department, it should be easier.”

Widow cackled.

“I thought you had retired from the dating world when Janelle Monáe blocked you on Instagram.”

“Okay, listen… I was nothing but respectful to Miss Monáe, I still don’t understand the reason behind that blocking but yeah…”

“Heidi you don’t want to date, you’re just horny.”

The girl gasped. “How dare you?”

“Because… you can’t keep your interest on one person for more than a week.” Jackie pointed.

“I think you’re better off single.” Widow agreed.

“Excuse me… I came here to have lunch and a lovely chat not to be attacked like this.” Heidi crossed her arms on her chest. “Unbelievable.”

They didn’t say a word.

“You may be right though…” She finally admitted.

“Oh! You know who should get a girlfriend…” Jaida glanced at the brunette in front of her.

Jackie sighed. “We’ve been through this yesterday… I already told you she’s out of the conversation.”

“I didn’t give any names though,” Jaida smirked. “You did that to yourself.”

Jackie blushed. “Whatever… I’m too busy to date anyway.”

“But you’d make an exception for a special someone, wouldn’t you?” Nicky pushed.

“She’s straight.”

“So it’s pasta until it gets hot and wet.” Heidi pointed.

“Heidi!”

The table burst into laughter.

“Enough with that, I’m serious. The last thing I want is Jan to feel awkward, she already has a lot on her plate.”

“Right, all jokes aside… I met the guy she pines after this morning…” Nicky started gossiping. “and my goodness he’s even worse than what I pictured… a jerk with capital letters. I think he was trying to get my number through Jan.”

They all made a disgusted sound in response.

“No fucking way…” Heidi’s mouth dropped.

“She deserves better and I don’t even know her personally.” Widow stated.

They agreed, especially Jackie who had seen the guy the day before breaking Jan’s heart in just a matter of seconds.

“Maybe meeting new people will help her seeing beyond his… spell?” Jaida raised an eyebrow.

“He’s not that charming, trust me.” Her girlfriend assured, basing her opinion on the –hopefully- only encounter they had. “But anyway… Crystal has classes until four…” She looked at Jaida with bedroom eyes. “would you like to take a nap with me?”

Jaida caught the hint instantly. “See y’all later, bitches.” She stuck out her tongue and both left the table.

“Maybe I am just horny.” Heidi reflected before sipping her apple juice.

“Be honest with me, do you hang out with us because you like us, or is it part of your sociology thesis investigation?” Jackie asked Widow.

“Bitch, you’ll never know.” She chuckled.

A week had passed and with that, Jan had established a little routine: in the mornings she would go to the library –sometimes on her own, sometimes with her roommate or one of her classmates-, she had lunch at the cafeteria in rotating schedules –as if she was the loving child of a divorced couple- during the afternoons she was at the copy room whenever she had some spare time and when Jackie was there and afterward she’d have dinner with her and her friends or with Rosé. They all ended up having dinner together on Friday night so Jan was secretly hoping the group would merge into one big supergroup.

She had also become close with Jackie’s friends including Widow of whom she had heard a lot but was formally introduced to a few days later and with Crystal, Nicky’s roommate who shared the struggles of being a freshman like her. Plus, she met one of Rosé’s friends from her musical comedy class as well, a girl called Lagoona that adopted Jan immediately and kept teaching her Spanish words.

On the weekend she watched cartoons wearing pajamas with the girls from her dorm in the lounge room and then completed some assignments for her classes with Crystal at the same place.

On Monday, however, she was extra excited –more than usual- because it was the day she was going to play baseball again. She could almost smell the grass of the field, the rubber of her sneakers, and the leather material of the ball… She could picture herself running around scoring like no other.

And because she was so thrilled, time seemed to pass slower than ever.

“Jackie…” She cried while sitting on her –now- regular reserved spot behind the countertop. “I still have to wait another two hours…”

“Two hours are almost nothing, c’mon.” The brunette was in the middle of copying a Shakespeare play for a group of students from the Literature department. “Besides, it’s not like it’s been years since the last time you played.”

“It’s been like two months.” She pouted. “Two long never-ending months.” She dragged the words to make emphasis on her sadness.

“But you survived.” Jackie pointed out before reaching for the staple on the shelf.

That day, Jackie was wearing a pleated plaid skirt with a knitted long sweater and mid-heel loafers. She moved smoothly in the limited space; Jan had memorized her moves by the time; she knew exactly when she had to lean back for the brunette to pass through while she mumbled something about Yvie not taking proper care of the machines or when she was fighting with the printer that didn’t mind for the students’ urgencies at all. She had also discovered that Jackie always hummed to California Dreamin’ no matter how often it played on the radio, that she liked gourmet jelly beans and that she had a stock of candy hidden somewhere -only she hadn’t found her secret spot yet.

“Hi, Jackie.” A girl hummed with a melodic voice as she rested her elbows on the countertop while batting her lashes overly.

Jackie, who was on her back stapling a final set of copies, took a deep breath as she recognized the owner of the voice right away.

“Hello, Vanessa.” She spun on her heels and faced the girl. “What can I do for you?” Her tone was deadpan.

Vanessa, the girl in question, was gorgeous with her long black hair perfectly curled, flawless makeup, and clothing; she was wearing a cropped pullover with the word «Angel» stamped on it a and pair of high-waisted jeans. She was tiny but she wasn’t scared of wearing high high-heels.

She flashed a dazzling smile as soon as Jackie turned around.

“Are you finally going to accept going on a date with me?” She blurted out.

Jan’s eyes got wide. Her type of courage was worth admiring, she was certainly fearless.

“No,” Jackie replied, coldly. “I’ve told you before; I’m not going to date you.”

Jan gasped but Vanessa didn’t even flinch. She just waved her hair and readjusted her pose.

Oh, she was about to say something, wasn’t she? Jan looked, expectant.

“Please…” She pouted. “Pretty please? You can’t say no to a pretty please.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “There we go.” She shook her head and sighed. “Look, I’m not going to repeat the whole speech but if you have something for me to print or copy, I’m all ears.”

This time, Jan couldn’t keep it to herself. “Jackie!” She shouted and jumped off the chair.

The brunette turned toward her. “What? It’s Vanessa.” She said as if that was a fair justification.

Vanessa waved. “And who are you?” She looked at Jackie, then at Jan, and then at Jackie again. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No.” Jackie blushed a little. “This is my friend, Jan. Jan, this is Vanessa she’s a sophomore that testes my patience since she was a freshman.”

“I worked very hard for that title.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jan!” She shook her hand.

“Vanessa has an on and off long-distance relationship and she likes to flirt when she’s on the «off» side,” Jackie explained.

The girl shrugged. “Can you blame a girl for asking? I gotta try once in a while at least.”

Jan chuckled.

“Anyway, can you copy the marked pages of this textbook? I need it for class, you’ll be glad to know I didn’t come here exclusively to ask you out. Although…”

“Give me the book.” The brunette extended her hand to grab the object, Vanessa held it tightly for an instant but Jackie pulled it. “I’ll be done in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you!” She smiled showing all her teeth. Then she turned back to Jan. “So Jan, is it…?”

“Don’t even try it!” Jackie yelled from the distance.

Once her shift was over, Jackie closed the copy room and walked around for a little before deciding to take a look at Jan’s baseball practice. She told herself it was okay to drop by, after all, she had been hearing about it all afternoon, she was curious now. But being honest, she had to ask around to find where the baseball field was –she didn’t even know their university had a women’s team before she met Jan- so she wandered through the corridors before finding the door that led to where they were playing.

The lights were on since their practice was after sunset and most students had classes during the day. The perimeter was surrounded by a chain-link fence so she guessed that was how close she could get to the field; she finally found a bleachers section -and she was one-hundred percent sure people smoked weed behind them.

She sat holding her purse against her chest. It seemed she made it just in time; it was Jan’s turn to bat. Even in the distance, Jackie had never seen the younger so focused on something as she was at that moment, it was like watching a completely different person. She moved into position and prepared.

She had the number eleven on the left sleeve of her striped uniform, purple socks on and a pair of shoes –already- covered in dirt. She adjusted her high ponytail under her cap before grabbing the wood bat with determination. Jan’s eyes were sharp as she tried to read into the pitcher’s moves.

Jackie had a shiver.

The pitcher threw the ball and she missed it, it went directly to the catcher’s glove. The brunette mouthed some curse. She had never been this invested in some sport.

Second attempt, she would get it this time. Jackie crossed her fingers, her heart was beating faster.

The pitcher threw the ball again and this time, it impacted against Jan’s bat making a thunderous noise that echoed everywhere. Jackie gasped, her eyes followed the girl’s figure as she ran as fast as she could before one of the players grabbed the ball from the ground. Now she knew her heart was about to break her ribcage, she couldn’t get herself to calm down. Jan was running and running like a roadrunner cartoon and she was about to make it when the players started passing the ball, maybe someone was going to catch her before she made it. But she was so close, just one more base to go. She ran, encouraged by her teammates, and drifted creating a cloud of dirt around the base.

She made it.

Home run.

“Yes! Yes!” Jackie cheered and raised her hands in the air.

Apparently, loud enough for the whole team to hear it.

Jan, who was bent over her knees, still out of breath due to her incredible race, grinned and waved as soon as she recognized Jackie. The brunette smiled back and clapped discreetly, even when she had just displayed such enthusiastic behavior.

The team -mainly the batter- had gained a new fan and the season hadn’t even started.

[jooheonspinky]

Little too Late

Characters: Sehun x Gender Neutral Reader Genre: Hanahaki Disease, angst Word Count: 3K Warnings: Mentions of blood ────── 〔✿〕──────

You plop into a bench at your favorite café, exhausted from your days’ work. You loved coming here. The atmosphere was always quiet and peaceful; the only sound the clinking of metal spoons against ceramic cups and the hushed murmurings of the patrons as they placed their orders. The background noise and your favorite latte was what helped you unwind after a long day.

Most people would say a cup of coffee at this time of the night would only assist in keeping them awake, but for you it was different. The warmth and flavors only soothed your soul, making you forget the stresses you’d endured that day. It settled your mind, which helped you sleep better.

“Good evening,” you hear a soft voice you don’t recognize interrupt your thoughts.

Glancing up sharply, you have to remind yourself to respond as the handsomeness of the young man standing at your table momentarily renders you speechless.

“Oh, uhm…Hello,” you finally stammer out.

His gaze was so intense. The dark irises, the color akin to espresso, bore into yours through the fringe of his off center parted bangs. The tiniest of smiles quirked one side of his perfectly shaped lips. Even as you lost yourself in the warmth of his eyes, you felt a vague nudge at the back of your mind signally to you that you had seen them before, once upon a time.

“Misty told me you were a regular and you get special treatment,” he winks at you and you swear you feel your heart stop in your chest.

Blushing, you laugh, waving off his comment, “Oh, no no. She just likes to spoil me because we went to school together.”

“You went to school with Misty?” he asks a bit surprised. “I did, too, but a long time ago.”

This time you look over him, but not with the eyes of someone who was admiring his chiseled beauty. Now you take time to picture him much younger, your brows furrowing as you concentrate.

“What’s your name?” you ask as you tilt your head slightly.

“Oh Sehun,” he replies with a smile. “Yours?”

Even as you reply with your name, your brain unlocks the image of the young boy you’d adored as a preteen. He’d only been two years older than you, but to your twelve year old self he seemed ages older and so cool. You’d lived on the same street and had walked to school together. He was popular and always surrounded by both girls and boys. Even still, he had a gentle and kind heart, making sure to say hi to you, trying to always include you whenever you were around. He treated you like a sibling, though, nothing more than friendship ever having bloomed between you two.

Your heart was broken when he moved almost three years later. His father had accepted a job in his native country of South Korea and just like that he was out of your life. Of course, time has a tendency of dampening the sadness and ache in ones heart until it is not but a distant memory. A mere school crush is how you’d classified it when you would randomly remember that time.

You’re brought forth from your thoughts as he murmurs your name a few times until a spark of recognition alights in his eyes.

“Ah, yes!” his smile brightens as he snaps his fingers. “I remember you, Smidge,” he chuckles merrily.

“Huh?” you stare up at him perplexed.

“Smidge. Remember? I used to call you that because you were so small.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you mumble feeling your cheeks flush a rosy hue as you recall his pet name for you. 

This brought on another chuckle from Sehun.

“My shift is over in a few minutes, do you mind if I sit with you and catch up?” he asks, his eyes filled with the hopes that you’d say yes.

“Sure, why not,” you shrug as casually as you can.

“Great, so you’re usual right?” he quips.

“Right.”

“Ok, I’ll be back in a bit.”

You give him a nod and watch him walk back behind the counter. He catches you studying him as he makes your coffee, pausing to smile widely and wiggle his fingers at you. The tint on your cheeks brightens as you awkwardly smile back and then force your gaze towards the window next to you instead.

Wah, you would never have thought seeing him again would stir up those childhood feelings you thought you had long ago forgotten. But as you stare out at the crescent moon smiling down at you from the velvety black sky, you can’t deny the rapid thrum of your heart beating giddily in your chest.

  ────── 〔✿〕──────

From that night forward, Sehun joins you every Tuesday and Thursday after his shift. And while in the past you had so looked forward to your nightly visits to the café for the peace it left you in, now you had an extra reason to get excited about going. You dressed nicer and made sure not a hair was out of place on those days. All the while lying to yourself that it was not all to impress him.

You both chatted quietly over your coffees for about an hour on those nights before you would say your farewells and head to your own homes. You quickly learned his personality hadn’t changed much. He was still sweet, considerate and gentle. When you spoke, his eyes didn’t leave your face, making sure you knew he was listening to every word you said. His laugh brought on tingles in your belly, his smile made your heart swell and you wished nothing would ever cause him to lose that gorgeous smile.

It’s not until a month passes… maybe just a little over a month, that Sehun slips into the bench across from you, that sparkling smile slipping into an expression you hadn’t seen on him before. The change in his demeanor is so foreign to you that it takes you a few moments to decipher it.

Sliding your hand across the table you wrap your fingers around his, looking into his eyes with concern as you ask, “What’s the matter, Sehun?”

He looks down at your joined hands, sighing despondently as he gives your hand an appreciative squeeze.

“It’s Destiny,” he says softly, sadness lacing his words.

Your heart stutters, fluttering roughly in your chest.

“What’s destiny?” you ask, concentrating on keeping the tremor from your voice.

Releasing your hand, he encircles his mug as if trying to draw strength from it. You straighten, taking a sip of your own coffee as you wait for his response.

“Not what…who,” he clears his throat, now leaning back in the bench. Flicking his gaze up to yours, he adds. “Destiny is my girlfriend.”

You instantaneously feel your heart lurch, your blood running cold at his response. A tickle in your lungs startles you, causing you to let out a few coughs. Your eyes water as you suck in a shaky breath.

“Ow!” you groan your face scrunching in pain.

“Jesus,” Sehun stands coming over to your side to pat your back. “Are you ok?”

Shoulders hunched, you hope he can’t see your fisted hand rubbing circles over your chest as you try and soothe whatever that had been.

“Yeah, yeah,” you manage with a grimace. “I think the coffee just went down the wrong pipe.”

He had a girlfriend? What was he doing chatting it up with you until ten? God, how did you always end up in situations like this? Were you truly that bad at reading people? You had felt so comfortable in your talks with Sehun and he had appeared interested… But maybe he was just being him. Always wanting people to feel welcome and at ease around him. Ugh! How could you have been so foolish? He really did only see you as a friend now just like he had all those years ago.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks again as he brushes the hair out of your eyes and pats your wet cheeks with a napkin.

Taking the napkin from him none too nicely, you brush him off, “Yes. Yes. I’m fine.” He hesitates as he stares at you pensively, but then he finally accepts your words. Wanting his focus to shift from you, you say, “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

You try to bring the conversation back to what you had been talking about, but the coughing just won’t subside.

“I’m so sorry, Sehun,” you finally say between fits of coughing. “I’m gonna go.”

You swiftly stand, gathering the few items you had.

“Wait, are you sure you’re ok?”

He follows you as you head towards the exit with brows furrowed, but you don’t reply as you dash out into the buzz of the night. Not looking back, you hop into your car, speeding off as you continue to attempt to catch your breath. Once at home, you rush to your bathroom, your cheeks flushed as you glance in the mirror. 

Splashing water on your face, you try to sooth the heat in hopes it would calm the coughing, but another fit ensues. Your eyes widen as tiny red and pink spots speckle across the white porcelain of the sink. You cough again and it’s as if whatever had been caught in your throat is dislodged. You spit into your hand and feel fear grip your body.

A bloodied torn blue petal lies in the center of your palm.

“No!” you whisper roughly.

It couldn’t be! You take a few deep breaths and force yourself to relax as you focus on the fact that you finally feel relief, the tightness in your chest gone. Even the tickle in your throat is no longer there. You throw the petal away and wash your hands, rinse your mouth and clean the sink.

All the while your heart still races, terrified of what this all means. You are quick to shower and slip into bed, hoping the next day will reveal that what you believed this to be was not actually it.

────── 〔✿〕──────

Despite knowing Sehun had a girlfriend, you found yourself returning to the cafe. It was painful sitting across from him knowing there would never be anything more between you, but not seeing him or hearing his voice seemed to hurt even more. So you still showed up twice a week as usual and he still sat with you after his shift. 

At first he filled you in on the fact that things were getting a bit rocky with his girlfriend. But then he stopped bringing it up and you assumed they had worked things out. After all, he had said he’d had no intentions of leaving her. 

And so the coughing persisted, the petals still coming up. You did your best to hide any evidence from him, but he only grew more and more concerned.

“It’s just a cold,” you would try and reassure him, but you could see the doubt in his eyes.

He finally convinced you to get checked out.

You sit in the chilly room of the doctor’s office. He had not liked the sounds in your lungs and had sent you to have X-rays done in the building next door. Now you waited for the images to be sent over and for him to give you the prognosis.

You look up as the door opens and see the doctor step in. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Instantly, your palms begin to sweat.

“Well,” he says on an exhale as he sits on his stool and rolls over to you.  From the examination table you look down at him nervously. “I’ve taken a look at your images and, it’s as I thought. You have the Hanahaki Disease. Do you know what that is?”

You glance away, sadness squeezes at your heart. The now familiar tickle in your esophagus threatening to bring on a coughing fit. You clear your throat as you return your gaze to the doctor.

“Yes,” you whisper tightly.

“Then you know your options,” he straightens in his chair. “Find a way for your love to return your feelings or I can perform a procedure to remove the roots. But,” he shakes his head forlornly. “You will never have the capacity to feel romantic love again.”

What kind of options were these? you think desperately to yourself. If there was any chance that he could love you back, you did not want to take that choice away from yourself.

“I don’t want to have the surgery,” you tell him firmly. 

He rolls over to the counter and scribbles onto a paper. Tearing it off he stands and hands it to you.

“Take this if you need help sleeping. The other will help mildly with the coughing during the day.”

I nod, accepting the paper.

“Thank you.”

“If you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Very well. Have a good day.”

────── 〔✿〕──────

As time passes, it only gets worse. Sometimes you retch up full blooms of blue anemone, the flowers beauty tainted with saliva and blood. The feeling of suffocating was the worst. There were so many times you wanted to give in and have the surgery, but knowing you could never love again frightened you more than anything. You told Sehun that you had been right. It was just a cold. You did not dare to tell him the truth for fear of losing his friendship. 

Glancing into your mirror you see how much weight you’ve lost. Your eyes are sunken into your face, dark circles making them look even deeper and lost. Your cheeks are hollow, your hair thinning. 

With glistening tears you apply makeup, bringing your face back to life. Sehun had invited you to have a picnic at the park. He said he had a surprise and you were excited. Perhaps he had finally decided to leave Destiny. Just maybe he had fallen in love with you instead.

You quickly dressed, then reached the park before him. There you laid out a blanket beneath the shade of a large tree. Opening the picnic basket, you begin to lay out some of the snacks when you happen to glance up and catch sight of Sehun. 

You smile, but he hasn’t seen you yet. In a pair of dark blue jeans and a butter yellow t-shirt his skin seems to glow and your heart swells in your chest at how handsome he looks out of his barista uniform. 

But then your eyes fall on the person beside him. You watch as he puts his arm across her shoulders and she puts one of her own across his lower back, hand resting on his hip. The sunlight glints off of an object on her finger and you know.

Instantly you know that his ‘surprise’ was that they had worked things out and he had proposed. They were engaged. Any chance you may have had...was lost forever.

You begin to cough, the sound harsh. A searing pain in your chest becomes unbearable and you look down to see something poking at your shirt. Through watery eyes you pull the collar of your shirt away from you and peer down. Eyes wide with terror, you see a stem growing out of the middle of your chest, a trickle of blood sliding down your skin.

Seeing him with her must have exacerbated the disease. Before you can grab your phone to call for help more stems break through your chest. You are screaming in agony, the sounds muted by the blooms forcing themselves up from your throat.

Writhing in pain, you fall back onto the blanket. Never had you ever felt anything as excruciating as what was happening to you now. Through the haze of pain you feel someone rush down beside you.

“Oh my God!”

It was Sehun. You turn tear filled eyes towards him and offer a crooked pain filled smile. He looks horrified and you wish you could reach out and smooth away the worried creases on his brow. His hands hover over you most likely unsure if he should touch you or not. Finally, he grasps the hand closest to him, his other hand brushing back your hair from your forehead.

The pain that wracks your body doesn’t seem so bad when he holds your hand so tenderly like that. You try to speak, but only gurgling sounds come forth.

“Call 911!” Sehun shouts to the woman. Within moments you can hear her responding to the operator and you tune her out, trying to focus on Sehun’s lips as he speaks to you. “What is happening to you?”

You are unable to answer as you begin to cough forcefully, sputtering as you try to catch your breath. 

“An ambulance is on the way,” the woman comes to stand next to Sehun. 

You both turn to look up at her. Her eyes are wide as she fixates on you, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. 

“Thank you,” he tells her, before returning his attention to you. 

“Please hang on. Stay with me,” he pleads. Some of the pressure alleviates and you inhale deeply. “God, this is not how I imagined this day to go.”

“I’m...sorry,” you croak, trying to breath through the torturous ache afflicting your body.

“No,” he chuckles humorlessly. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You tighten your grip on his hand as another stem pierces through your skin. “Jesus. Who did this to you?”

You shake your head desolately, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes he wouldn’t see. Tears flood down the sides of your face and when you open your eyes back up and your gaze locks on his countenance, you know he knows.

“No,” his lips turn down desperately. “No!”

Sirens wail in the distance. The woman squeezes his shoulder before rushing off to meet the ambulance.

“It’s not…your fault,” you try to assure him even as another burst of coughs plagues you. 

“I didn’t know,” he whispers desperately. “I didn’t know.” He lifts your head up onto his lap in hopes of making you more comfortable. “I would have said something sooner. That’s why I invited you here. God, I’m too late. I’m sorry. I’m so so sor-.”

His words are cut off as you let out a muffled scream. His wide horrified eyes are the last thing you see before a bush of blue anemones bursts forth from your torso.

────── 〔✿〕──────

Thank you for reading. Please feel free to comment and reblog.

[loveisbraveandwild]

Hi! This is my “how i met taylor swift” story! i’ll never be able to express how much the privilege of being invited by taylor herself into her home to hear the lover album early, eat her rice krispy treats, and tell her i’m proud of her means to me, but here’s my attempt at least telling the story. it’s a long story so if you hate reading click here to watch the video i made about it!

At 5:30pm on July 21st, I was sitting in my bed on tumblr and a message pops up on my screen that says “Taylor Nation CONFIDENTIAL MESSAGE.” Me, not trusting anyone on this site, clicked it thinking it was fake there’s no frickin way i got the dm. I read the url and the message about four times until i finally sat up out of my bed and immediately text sam, my best friend in the whole world. she texts me back in all caps, as a real friend does, and then she facetimes me. I missed what she first said but i will never forget her saying “i got mine on twitter.” After talking to her on the phone, i finally reply to tn.

monday and tuesday go by and nothing happens. on wednesday at 2:54pm I text sam “tn forgot about us” then at 2:57 my long live ringtone started blaring and i pick up and this guy is like “is this grace ----” and im like yes and he says “this is x with taylor nation.” ive never jumped up and screeched louder in my life. he tells me our conversation is confidential, confirms where i’m from, and then asks me if i can go to rhode island. here’s my reaction to my phone call. 

on friday, whilst in target, having saved taylor nation’s number in my phone, i get another phone call from them. they tell me the original location has been leaked and ask me if i can get to nashville. i’ll never be able to emphasize how grateful and privileged i feel to not only be able to have gone to sessions but to be able to say yes without needing to confirm anything with my parents and to be able to change my plans, after having booked a flight to RI (don’t worry i got a full refund!)

the following saturday i woke up at 3::30am to catch a flight to nashville. sam and my flight got in 4 minutes apart from each other. the rest of the day is a story for another time but basically i freaked out because i met about 2 dozen other swifties that i’ve been friends with for a long time. i had lunch and dinner with them, we went to the taylor swift education center, and we hung out in the hotel together. the day ended with me meeting emma, someone who i hardly interacted with but admired so much because of her blog.  

sunday morning we woke up and freaked out and spent the morning trying to stomach food and getting ready. then we went to the hotel and got to the meet up spot at 3:15ish. there were so many people i knew there and it was the craziest experience ever. at 4 a woman from tn comes up and gets us and steals our phones, etc. an hour later they bring us out to the buses and that’s when i started to get really, really overwhelmed and start crying. i would have fallen to my knees if sam hadn’t caught me.

i’m the last person off the second bus and we round the corner and once again, i start crying. fast forward and we’re in line for food (which i did not eat) and i see these adorable little labels for the food that look like taylor’s handwriting, once again, sobbing. i turn to sam and say “she loves us so much.” even if she didn’t write those cards, someone took the time to sit down and hand write them and even the smallest act went the longest way for me. 

we get in line to enter the room and about 30 minutes later they open the doors. five minutes later she jumped out and says “hey guys!” she looked the exact same as she does on my computer screen, fake. her hair was perfect, she was tall (not as tall as i imagined though), smiling, beautiful, gorgeous, all the good things. she then tells us not to share anything that happens in this room and when taylor looks you in the eye and tells you to do something you do it. 

half way through we take a little break and sam and i are in line for the bathroom when i see people coming back in the session room i immediately tell sam to sit down and we do, not moving an inch. front. row. seats. two feet away from her chair is probably an overstatement. i don’t know how it happened but we were two frickin feet away from where she was sitting. she comes back and plays the rest of the album. 

then they take the minors first and then the ~adults alphabetically. my last name starts with a B but i still didn’t meet her until about 1:30am on august 5th. when they open the door and call me in i see her reflection and she’s like dancing? i look to my laugh and there she is, im crying writing this, like real tears. 

i want to keep most of our conversation private but she immediately said “Hi Gracie!” when i talked in. i heard stories than when you hug taylor swift she never lets go first, this is indeed true. i told her i loved her in her ear while we were hugging and she said it back. then she told me she knew a selfie i had posted but she had never liked and i freaked out. i told her i’m studying political science and gender studies and i want to run for office one day and she was so excited and proud of me. i thanked her for my first notice when she put me on her story and told her why my favorite taylor song is my favorite taylor song. we talked a little bit about the album and she told me she was proud of me twice and i told her i was proud of her twice. we took our picture and she let me make sure i liked it and the only thing i remember is seeing my smile and being like “thats it” because i looked had never smiled so big. 

the next day taylor posted a picture wearing the bracelet i gave her when told her i was bi and thanked her for her allyship and i just about passed out. i spent the day in nashville and got to open my picture at!!! the!! bluebird!! cafe!!! click here for some soft video content of it! 

this entire experience was a whirlwind from start to finish and i wouldnt change a second of it. taylor, on the off chance that you see this, and on the bigger off chance that you read this, thank you. being able to look you in the eyes and tell you how proud i am of you is something i’ve dreamt about since i was about ten years old. i never thought i would be able to do it. thank you for inviting me into one of your most intimate spaces, entrusting me with your art, and ranting about politics and gender studies with me. thank you for baking for me and for introducing me to my best friends. i wouldnt be nearly as confident, stable, happy, or supported without you and the people you’ve brought into my life. i love you so much! 

[twotwinks]

a thing i was tagged in a long time ago by @rochc93. i am, believe it or not, attempting to catch up on these things. i always intend to do them but it’s either not a good time when i think about them or i’m not thinking about them. sorry i’m a mess

Who were you named after?

First name, nobody bitch. That’s all me. Middle name, like twenty different characters who are important to me but all on accident because I didn’t realize we shared the name until after I’d picked it. Notable instances include Rita Rose Vrataski from Edge of Tomorrow and also Amy Rose (a recent discovery). Last name, Gary King and also because I like confusing people about my gender by deliberately using a “male” title while presenting female (though hopefully not for much longer) and also being nonbinary. (Also s/o to ladies who call themselves king instead of queen. Yes I’m thinking of Kagamine Rin in the WanOpo songs Death Should Not Have Taken Thee and Our Adventure Log Has Vanished.)

Last time you cried?

two weeks ago to the day, when my dad let our dog Koko get hit by a car, things have been Extra Bad around here since then

Do you like your handwriting?

No. When I was little everyone always used to tell me how pretty it was but then I started trying to be a Serious Writer and my penmanship degraded as a result of how fast I had to get the words out of my head. Now my mom whines all the time about how messy and illegible my writing is.

What is your favorite lunch meat?

TURKEY

Longest relationship?

Umm....about two years ago for about three months-ish? I think? Maybe two months? I don’t know, we were dating for Christmas and then I broke up with him right before Valentine’s Day because my mental health couldn’t take it. I realized I was aro shortly after. Who would’ve guessed, huh?

Do you still have your tonsils?

Yep!

Do you bungee jump?

no and i never will

What is your favorite kind of cereal?

Dude this changes like monthly. Sometimes Honey Bunches of Oats. Sometimes Frosted Flakes. Sometimes I get a ridiculously strong craving for Strawberry Awake or Lucky Charms or Honey Nut Cheerios. I just get to eat cereal so infrequently that I can’t really have a favorite, I just have to indulge whatever craving I currently have because I only get the chance to eat one box every three months or so.

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

Yes because when I was little my mom ingrained into me that not untying my shoes first would ruin the backs of them way faster than they should. In all fairness we were poor and couldn’t afford to buy me new shoes that often because my feet are so sensitive that an actual comfortable pair costs $100.

Do you think you’re strong willed?

oh fuck no i mean have you ever spoken to me??? i’m the biggest baby pushover to ever live

Favorite ice cream?

Either that Death by Chocolate stuff they serve at Purdue’s dining courts sometimes or mint chocolate chip. It has to be green though or it loses something sdkhsdhk

What is the first thing you notice about a person?

Usually like their shirt, I guess? I don’t know, this isn’t something I’ve ever really thought about. Maybe it’s also if they have one of those annoying faces or voices. Or if they have a queer vibe. Look I’m not good with people ok.

Football or baseball?

Football but only because marching band and/or soccer

Favorite doughnut?

Okay this is going to sound weirdly specific but. Chocolate cake donut with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles. Also on a related note I once let a girl in high school copy my homework (that I myself had found the answers to on the internet, it was a really unfair English assignment). She was so happy that she said she’d buy me a donut for breakfast the next day (she made a donut run for herself once a week as a special treat). I gave her my oddly specific request, but since I knew it was kind of a rare donut to find I told her anything chocolate would work. The next day, lo and behold, she showed up with the perfect donut. She had them make it special for me (insert Discord’s pleading face emoji). That was the day I learned my lesson about judging “dumb blondes”.

What music are you listening to?

I’ve been back into Touhou doujin arrangements again lately, especially eurobeat. However I’m also hyperfixating on Sonic the Hedgehog again so the game soundtracks and the Crush 40 albums are starting to show up in my frequent rotation on Spotify.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?

The obvious choice is mint green but I could also very easily be a lime green or a glittery ruby slippers red.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?

I believe I talked to my grandma a little bit on my mom’s phone not that long ago? Other than that according to my phone it looks like I took a call from my dad back in April?

Hair color?

that real deep almost black brown. i nearly got into a fistfight with some boys in second grade who insisted my hair was black. it’s not black it’s just very thick. it actually looks much lighter if you just separate a smaller chunk and look at it.

Eye color?

Hazel. Brown with some green flecks. Or possibly green with some brown flecks. Also both of my irises look different up close but you can’t tell unless you’re really up in my face.

Favorite food to eat?

pasta but it can’t have red sauce

Scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings all the way

Last film you watched in the cinema?

do you really expect me to remember this. i honestly do not fucking know. i have no brain when it comes to movie theaters. i was gonna do a double feature of birds of prey and the sonic movie the tuesday before spring break (cheap prices for students!!!) but i ended up having a headache that day so i couldn’t go and then shit hit the fan and there was no theatergoing. i have tried and failed to get my parents to rent the sonic movie since. i’m very unhappy about it now that i’m hyperfixating again.

What color shirt are you wearing?

well i think it used to be white but it’s really old so now it’s like off-white. also it has a big snake on the back. i don’t even like snakes i just enjoy this shirt.

Favorite holiday?

Christmas!!! I don’t necessarily actually enjoy celebrating the holiday (thanks fam) but I love the idea behind it and the aesthetics. Also it’s peppermint season!

Beer or wine?

Listen I am super picky about alcohol. I haven’t liked any of the wine I’ve tried, but the first two wines I had other people told me it was bad (and then they took me out and bought me alcohol I would actually like because I’d never drank before and apparently getting me tipsy in Ireland over spring break was an Honor for them I literally didn’t pay for a single drink that night) and the third wine I had was paired with the wrong type of food (we couldn’t get the Right wine bottle open). I didn’t really mind the beer I tried in Ireland though, so I guess beer? I really like cider best though, and apparently I can also handle vodka.

Night owl or morning person?

night owl i wish i could be nocturnal

Favorite day of the week?

Friday. It has all the joy and anticipation of the coming weekend without the curse of my dad being home or the responsibility of homework looming over everything.

Favorite animal?

HEDGEHOG yeah i never really got past that from when i was little. but i also just love pretty much all animals. except like. snakes and spiders but sometimes snakes have their moments.

Do you have a pet?

Yeah. We have a lot of “family” pets but I consider Patches (cat) and Gabby (dog) to be Mine Specifically. If my mom hadn’t forced me out of therapy I’d probably be bringing Patches with me to college next year as an emotional support animal.

Where would you like to travel?

Europe babey. I just wanna hang out in France and England and Scotland and also go back to Ireland. I miss Ireland so much y’all.

ok that’s it. that’s all for this one. i’m not tagging anyone because i’m sure it’s already made the rounds among everyone. but if it missed you and you still wanna do it go for it. consider yourself tagged. poof.

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 8)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1599

Chapter summary: Easter holidays and ignoring Bucky's show; all anyone can talk about.

Warnings: a little bit of angst :( no actually Bucky, but soon!

Previous: Chapter 7

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

Waking up early on Monday, you take a few moments to just lay there, enjoying the quiet. You know today will be difficult, no matter how many promises of letting go and moving on you've made to yourself. Five more minutes avoiding the inevitable won't hurt.

Peggy had insisted you stayed until late afternoon yesterday, not wanting you to be alone too soon, but you couldn't intrude on her for too long. The short walk back to your house felt like a marathon as you past right by the house Bucky used to rent a flat in, and you couldn't stop yourself from glancing through the hedge and into the window that used to be his lounge. The 'for let' sign was up again, another neighbour moving on some place new, and you'd quickly slipped on your sunglasses, not wanting any pupils to see their teacher crying in the street. Reaching home, you were surprised to find your abandoned shopping placed neatly inside your porch. Looking a little scuffed and bashed, but nonetheless edible, you'd brought it inside as you wondered who you had to thank.

Dayton had called you yesterday evening, under the guise of just checking in, but you had a feeling it was more than that, and it didn't take long to get it out of him. Bucky had turned up at his place on Saturday night, after you'd seen him, and when Dayton had taken the opportunity to ask about what was happening between the two of you he'd taken off again.

“Didn't give me a chance to go after him. Straight back in his taxi and puff, gone.”

“Where's he now then?” You'd asked, worried despite everything. You can't just switch your feelings off overnight.

“On his way back to America, according to one of his cast mates. Buck's not answering my calls.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

“What if it is!” You'd exclaimed. “What if I've caused a wedge between you and him? Just because he hates me shouldn't mean he-”

Dayton interrupted, bewildered. “Whoa, what? Hates you? What's going on?”

Trying to summarise Saturdays events, the tears made an appearance again. He was just as astounded and angry as Peggy was, sure you must have heard Bucky wrong, but you know what he said.

You don't think you'll ever forget it.

“Don't you worry about it, I'll find out what's going on.” Dayton had hung up with a promise.

Pulled back from your reminiscing by your alarm, you sigh and slide out of bed, hoping to get this day over as quickly and painlessly as possible.

*****

Easter is late this year, a blessing as it means you only have to make it through a short week before the school breaks for a fortnight. Even three and a half days feel like forever, especially as the upset caused by seeing Bucky again, and everything that came with it, has you running on hardly any sleep.

His television show has clearly wrapped, the promotion in full swing, and all the children at school can talk about is the trailer. You haven't been able to bring yourself to watch it yet, which is why it comes as such a shock during lunch break on Tuesday when a double decker bus rolls past the front gates, his image plastered on the side, two times larger than life. You vaguely recognise the actor he's standing beside, but you're too dazed to think straight.

Noticing your frozen figure staring after the bus, Peggy comes across to stand with you, a comforting hand on your arm as you turn to her open mouthed.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You spin back to the playground where all the children who also saw the advert are straining to see it again. “Have you watched the trailer?”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“Then yes. It actually looks quite good.”

“Of course it does,” You mutter bitterly.

“Sam Wilson is always great.”

You nod in agreement. No wonder Bucky had been so excited to get this role, there weren't many actors he placed higher than Sam Wilson, and getting to work with him was probably a dream come true.

It's just a shame that dream didn't involve you.

*****

By the time Thursday afternoon arrives you feel like you need the two weeks off just to sleep. A few pencils were snapped when you suddenly remembered Bucky's words to you but other than that, you managed to get through to the end of term with no major break downs.

The holiday comes at a good time weather wise too, and you bask in the sun with the chickens for most of the first weekend. You're happy the hens got to enjoy a few full days of freedom in the garden, as when you open their coop the next morning, little Dot isn't moving.

It is obvious she's gone.

Moving her away from the others as you find the spade to dig her a final resting place, you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. She was always Bucky's favourite, smaller than the others and picked on more because of it, he made sure she never missed out on treats.

Replacing the earth after you bury her in a shady spot under the willow, you find a tall, pretty daisy to plant in loose soil over her, before slumping down on to the bench nearby, exhausted both physically and mentally. Most people laughed when you said you had such pets, not understanding how a farm animal could be as interesting and rewarding as a more conventional companion, but then they met them and understood your love. It's always hard when you lose one, harder still when the person you long to speak to about it has made it clear he doesn't want you in his life any more.

When Sophia comes to stay during the second week she brings Benjamin, and flowers in sympathy for your loss. She gets it. Helping her unpack her weekend bag, you listen to her chatter away about her plans for the nursery, and how they're trying to squeeze one last holiday in before they become a family of four.

Dayton's on a trip back home, very last minute, and he'd asked you if you minded keeping Sophia company for the couple of days he's away. He didn't say why he's going back to the USA but you have an idea, it would be too much of a coincidence so soon after Bucky disappeared from his driveway after your confrontation. Regardless of your own feelings that it would be pointless to try and talk him round, you wish him luck in his quest.

She knows about the current situation surrounding you and Bucky, but ever the optimist, she's convinced that it's nothing more than a silly argument that will be resolved in a few weeks. You don't have the heart to tell her otherwise. Instead, you busy yourself with keeping Sophia and Benjamin fed, watered and entertained, playing the perfect host to hide your pain.

*****

School holidays used to drag on forever when you were a child, however now you work there it feels like you blink and it's over. You're not too disappointed to be back, however, as the summer term is the most enjoyable in your experience, the lighter evenings meaning you don't feel so confined in your home after you finish for the day, and the children seem more happy and carefree in the warmer weather.

There were also more dates in the calender this time of year, it'll be sports day again before long, but first, the May Day celebrations. You hadn't been involved in the organisation of this years fête, and as you stare at the poster and the announcement of the 'extra special star guest', you really wish you had. Ripping the flyer off the wall, you march to Peggy's office, not bothering to knock before you burst in so it's lucky she's alone.

“What the hell is this?”

“I could ask you the same, Y/N.” She stands from her desk, moving to close the door behind you. “You can't just charge in here unannounced. We've got to at least pretend to be professional.”

She's joking but you're not laughing, shoving the offending piece of paper into her hands, causing her smile to slip.

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. Why the hell didn't you tell me he was coming?” You pace as you rant. “Why the hell is he coming? What has he got to do with anything! And you must have some sort of input in this, why did you let it happen?”

“I'm sorry Y/N. What was I meant to do?”

“Stop it!”

“Without airing yours and his private lives, there's nothing I could’ve done!”

She's right. Huffing in frustration, you hold your tongue. You can't afford to lose two friends in less than half a year, and you know Peggy hasn't done this on purpose, now you think about it rationally Bucky being there would bring a lot of attention to the schools humble spring fête. You can no longer go on any website, or watch TV, without seeing his face. Whatever the show is about you're not sure, as you still haven't got the strength to watch any of the dozens of videos hanging around, but it's clear it's going to be the next big sensation. That Bucky is going to be the next big sensation.

You guess you're going to have to suck it up and ignore your heartache, just for one day.

*****

A/n: lot's of Bucky in the next chapter, I promise! And maybe an explanation or two...

As always, thank you for reading!! Feedback is very welcome if you would like :D

Chapter 9