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#there is a crack in the paint in my bathroom that looks like a super buff ant
apollo-zero-one · 1 year
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I'm fine now dw
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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thinking about calling pogue!rafe over because your hot water isn’t working and he’s acting all annoyed but he’s lowkey kicking his feet at the fact that he gets to be in your home. maybe even asking him to stay after your shower so you can cook him something as a reward and play house for a bit 🩷🩷🩷
ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡
my favourite thing about pogue!rafe is that he acts soooo inconvenienced by your presence. he hates kooks, think they’re so stuck up — so he can’t help but feel to push you away. always referring to you as a ‘stuck up little girl’ whilst he’s only a couple of years older than you. he’d done some work on the house before, and whilst your parents are away you literally don’t know who to call to fix your hot water problem so you try him, pacing around your room.
at first during your call, he tells you he’s got a shit tonne of work to be doing on other houses and doesn’t have time to drop everything for a kook princess. he can practically see your little pout through the phone, but keeps up his attitude until you thank him for his time anyway, sadly throwing out a little “no, i understand it’s okay. i’ll probably just hit up that jj maybank. i heard he’s pretty handy.” and suddenly he’s changed his tune, physically sitting up from his slouched position to be all “shit, okay fine… fine. i’ll be there in twenty minutes just — just don’t call anyone else a’ight?”
he’s sulking when he turns up with his tool box and that muscle tank and shorts with paint and dirt on them — unable to stop sucking on your bottom lip because he’s just so big and strong. he’s ignoring your lustful gaze with everything in him as he walks through to your bathroom. “lets just get this out the way, yeah?” he drawls as he gets to work.
you sit on the sink and swing your legs, not leaving him alone as he works simply chatting his ear off, seemingly unphased by his blunt replies, finding creative ways to shut you down like reminding you “yeah, uh you’re my little sisters age.” however you seemed totally unscathed, only working harder to prove you’re grown enough to take him.
“should be workin’ fine now so uh… just wire me the money n’we’ll be good. doin’ overtime right now so i kinda just wanna go home.” he waves you off and you step infront of him.
“you’re finished working?”
“di’nt i just say that kid?” he drawls and you grin, dragging him to your lounge.
“perfect! look i really wanna thank you specially for bein’ so helpful to me even though it’s clear you don’t want to. let me cook you dinner. please? i got beer and uh… i’ll make it really good. oh please rafe, my parents are away and i’m all alone.”
he sighs like it tortures his whole being, but he couldn’t deny that your house was super nice — nicer to hang out in than his shitty little fishing shack that he calls a home. he’d heard the cops had been sniffing around for him wanting to talk about a little ‘altercation’ he recently wound up in and didn’t have the energy to deal with that. no one would suspect him in the kook princess headquarters.
he cracks open a beer and lounges on your couch watching tv as you prepare the food for him before sticking everything in the oven and heading upstairs to shower. he doesn’t notice your presence disappear until you’ve returned in the tiniest little night gown and damp hair, leading him to the dining room where you serve up his food.
“some real housewife shit, huh?” he can’t hold back his smile as you seat him infront of a hearty meal. you feel all warm at the implication, shrugging modestly.
it’s inevitable that you wind up in his lap after he’s eaten, having sat with him and flirted — leaning over the table with your tits practically spilling out. you can’t quite recall how you got there, in between telling him you had nothing on under the nightgown and him telling you that it wasn’t his fault that men had primal instincts or some shit like that — but soon he was pulling your dress up to your waist and stuffing himself inside you, roughly fucking up into you.
“oww, rafey!” you whine at how rough he’s being with you, not used to being treated like anything but a princess. he can tell it’s an act though, and you truly do love it from the way your walls contract around him.
“nah, nah you knew what you were doin’ inviting me here. what were — were you just sittin’ around with a fuckin’ wet pussy waitin’ on your moment to invite me round n’let you fuck on me? huh? that was this is?” he bucks his hips, holding onto you to completely take control from below, bashing you against the table with each thrust that was certain to leave bruises.
you whimper, pressing your body to his trying to win over some affection as you sniffle. “just got such a crush on you, rafe.” you mewl and he scoffs, taking that moment to pick you up in his lap and place you on the dining room table instead, gaining more control so he could keep rutting into you.
“sick’a you little kook girls tryn’a — tryn’a use me like im some little experiment that you can toss to the side afterwards.” he complains, gripping your hips and practically using you like a toy. if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be completely limp.
“dont want you with other girls! not — not gonna get rid of you i just want you.” you defend, and finally he slows his punishing pace to catch his breath, staring down at you analytically with parted lips, dick twitching inside you at the confession.
“that right?” he deadpans and you nod, teary eyed. “that why you let me in this princess cunt raw? huh? no protection or nothin’? just… just hoping i pull out? ha…” he chuckles maliciously, starting to push in deeper once more, upping his pace just a tad. “yeah… yeah maybe i should nut right in here—” he caresses your lower tummy making you whimper, completely at his mercy with your legs split. “knock up some kook pussy. won’t just be a phase then will i? nah baby… nah you’d be stuck with me for life.”
he’s got a sick smile on his face, but what he’s not expecting is for you to grip the back of his neck, your bottom lip wobbling with a serious look in your eyes. “do it.” you command and his face drops a little, realising that maybe he was dealing with a girl that had it bad for him. that, or you’re trying to get some sort of revenge on your parents. either option made his dick throb.
ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡
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8myass · 7 months
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OH MY GOD HIIII ur blog looks supa cool it’s so nice to meet u lele 😁😁
can i be 🧺 anon and request haechan hate sex 🥴🥴🥴 god i’m obsessed w that man
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hi hi! thank you so much! of course, you can be 🧺 anon! thank you for making the first-ever request on my page. it was super fun to write this! i, too, am very obsessed with this man, he's genuinely too fine. i hope you enjoy it!! pairing. lee donghyuck/haechan x female reader genre. angst, smut (w plot) pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) wc. 1.6k cw. enemy!haechan, slight bimbo!reader, mean dom!hae, bratty sub!reader tw. alcohol consumption, mentions infidelity and breakup, slight dubcon aspects (bc of the wording, it seems very noncon at first), cursing, mentions blood, name calling (‘bitch’, ‘whore’, ‘toy’), face-fucking, deepthroating, degradation, slight praise (typically only ever mixed with degradation), hate sex (obvi), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), ass slapping, pet names (‘babe’, ‘baby’), hair pulling, breeding, haechan’s just mean idk??
“Can you at least pretend to love me? Just for tonight?” Haechan frowned, his vision blurred from an extensive amount of alcohol, hung over your shoulder as you dragged him to your car, somehow being left with the responsibility of taking him home after he was found passed out on your friend’s couch. Your friend claimed she had to clean the party that wiped through her house like a hurricane but fell asleep in the bathroom by the toilet, droplets of vomit littering the toilet seat, and more chunks in the bowl. 
You rolled your eyes, popping open the door of the passenger’s side to your vehicle, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Throwing him in the car, you shut the door and dragged your feet to the driver’s side door, sitting down to instantly start the engine up. He didn’t buckle up, slouching down in the seat, eyes dazed. You looked over at him and sighed, shaking your head, “What happened to you, man? Why’d you drink so much?”
“My girl cheated on me,” he laughed, the amusement in his tone holding the deepest pain you remember hearing your entire life. “We’re not together anymore.”
You didn’t know how to reply, never feeling so much sympathy for someone who you despised so incredibly. “Do you miss her?”
“How could I not? She was my world all through high school, no one else meant as much to me as she did,” he exhaled deeply, his voice cracking, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. 
You sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the drive becoming awkward in the quietness. You still didn’t know what to say, unable to comprehend whether he wanted to find comfort in you at such an awful time. 
“It’s right here,” he pointed out the window as you pulled up his street, stepping on the brakes as soon as you heard his words. 
“This place?” you scoffed, looking at him with your typical disgusted expression, accidentally forgetting the deep emotional conversation you two just had. The place was old, moss growing up the sides of the former white-painted house that had now turned brown due to being behind on cleaning. The windows were clouded, blinds pale and stained, the wood of the door cracked. “It’s a dump.”
He sighed lowly, getting out of the car with a quick shove, turning on his heels to look at you, “Can you come in?”
“You want me to come into your house?” you raised an eyebrow, but something told you to accept his offer, “Fine, just until you sober up.”
You unbuckled and followed him into his garbage site that he claimed was his house, watching him chug water bottle after water bottle sitting at the small, two-person table across from him. 
“Don’t choke, I might laugh,” you chuckled as he continued to gulp down the remaining water in the bottle, eyes narrowing while looking at you. 
“You’re annoying,” he huffed, slamming the bottle down on the table. 
“Yeah, not the first time you’ve told me that,” you snorted, “Are you sobered up yet? Can I go now, Mr. I-need-you-to-come-help-make-sure-I-don’t-choke-on-my-own-vomit?”
“Screw you,” he groaned, standing up and throwing away the plastic bottle into the green recycling bin next to his dirtied fridge. You stood up as well, hurrying toward the door, taking that as a ‘get the hell out, bitch’. Typically, that’d be what that meant, you weren’t wrong for thinking that. 
“Where are you going?” you heard his voice right next to your ear as your body was pressed against the door before your hand could reach the doorknob.
“I’m leaving, you’re sober now,” you squirmed in his grip, his thumbs pressed to the back of your hips to hold your body against the chilled wood. “Don’t touch me, let go of me.”
“Why would I do that? I’m finally available, I can finally touch you how I please,” he hummed, one finger tracing down your spine, his opposing hand slipping up your skin-tight dress, pressing his palm against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 
“Don’t touch me,” you growled, squirming more aggressively in his grasp. “You’re disgusting, I hate you. Let me go before I kick your dick in.”
“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he managed to flip your fussy form around so he could look into your pleading eyes. In an instant, you were on your knees, cock down your throat, gagging you to the point of tears pouring down your cheeks, slobber coating your chin as his balls smacked the remnants of your filth off your face and down onto your thighs. 
“Fuck, bitch, that’s so good,” he moaned, smirk popping onto his face as his head fell back. Your tongue looped around his cock as he repeatedly fucked your face, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs so tightly that it nearly drew blood. His fingers were laced through your hair, keeping your head in place as he thrusts himself into your mouth. He scrunched his nose up a few times as he felt your teeth brush against his dick, “A little less teeth, okay?”
“What’s the matter? Don’t act like you haven’t done this before, I’m sure you’ve had a cock down your throat every night since we last saw each other,” he scoffed, looking down at the way your eyes gazed at him with a gentle glint in them. You had only just seen him a few days ago, but you have been with a man every night since then. It was a good time killer, how could you not let some random guy fuck the daylights outta you just for funsies? “You never had something so big down your throat, is that the problem?”
You gagged in response to his question, drool pooling out around the seams of your mouth. His cock was coated in your sticky saliva by now, his tip reaching down your throat, precum leaking out around it. 
“You sound so much better gagging on my dick,” he chuckled, forcing himself entirely into your mouth until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, choking on the cum pouring out of his tip as trails of moans came out of his hung open mouth. “Yeah, that’s so fucking good, babe.”
After pulling out of your weak mouth, you didn’t have much time to bitch at him before you were bent over the table, dress forced up and panties ripped off, already rehardened cock slipped inside your dripping cunt. 
“So wet? Is this for me?” he muttered against the skin of your neck, moans spilling from your parted lips, throat way too sore to reach the volumes you currently were. “Did you like sucking my cock? How about this? Do you like this, hm?”
You frantically nodded as you felt his hands slide up your dress to roughly play with your boobs, thumbs circling over your sensitive nipples, “Ye-yeah, feels good.”
“Fuck, you’re such a whore, you know that?” he growled, smacking your ass after pulling his hand from your boob, the other one still lingering. “Gonna let me fuck you like this after just claiming you hate me?”
“I do hate you,” you scoffed, trying to sound strong, but your voice came out more unstable than you had originally planned. You did hate him, you just might not have hated this moment. The sex was good, I mean, how could you say no?
“I hate you too, don’t worry,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull your head toward him, your back pressed against his chest. “I’m using you, baby. Only to pass the time, only to get her off my mind. You are simply a toy, that’s all.”
“You think she’s ever gonna come back?” you mocked, head slightly turning so your eyes could meet his, which had soon turned into a glare directed at you, “I can’t be a placeholder for someone who’s not coming back.”
“Shut the fuck up, toy,” he growled, upper lip twitching as he pushed you back down onto the table, pressing his palm to the center of your back to hold you there as the other gripped your hip tightly, his thrusts becoming harder yet sloppier. 
He was beyond enraged by your comments, and the movements of his own hips against your poor body really showed that. You were a whimpering and crying mess as soon as he became angry with you, almost making you want to sob out an apology, but you wouldn’t degrade yourself so much as to actually apologize to him, it’s bad enough you were letting him fuck you.
“I think you’re gonna make a good cumdump from now on,” he moaned loudly, his moans echoing throughout the rest of the kitchen. “I’ll use you however I please.”
“Scr-screw y-you,” you whined, continuing to be a little bitch to him, not realizing where it gets you. 
He groaned as he continued thrusting himself into you, head falling back as he smacked your ass again at your words. You squealed and dipped your head down against the table, burying your forehead into your arms. Your bodies colliding rocked the entire table, the sound of its creaking spread through the room.
Soon enough, he had let loose strands of cum inside you, feeling his hot liquid fill your insides as loud moans flew out of his mouth, desperate and frantic cries falling out of you, your release also shaking your body, cum seeping out around his cock. 
“Shit, maybe we should do this more often,” he’d say only as he’s rebuttoning his pants and you’re fixing your dress, wiping your mouth of the drool that poured out of the corners of your lips, patting away the dried tears coating your flushed cheeks.
“Yeah, whatever,” you rolled your eyes and stormed out of his house, ‘hoping’ you’d never see him again, but knowing damn well you’d cave and show up to his place the following night, all for a round two…
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revasserium · 1 year
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neverending daydreams with kenma? 🫶
reqs are open :)
neverending daydreams
kenma; 3,709 words; almost freakishly fluffy, but also kinda trippy. basically my specialty and i love this fic a holy freaking hell of a lot. if u read pls PLS tell me what u think u__u and lemme know if u 'get' the ending!!!
he has never been, in all seriousness, what people would have called a dreamer. but having spent most of his waking hours either gaming or wishing he were gaming, kenma quietly considers the implications of being called as such. a dreamer. what a title — what a name.
what a burden.
“was it bad last night?”
“no, not as bad… but at least it was interesting.”
“oh yeah? tell me.”
“so there was a maze, right — and then you know the super hot manga character from the new series — yeah, he was there too, and we had to like figure out this maze but we couldn’t wear shoes —”
kenma lets his head lilt to one side, his eyes falling shut in the early afternoon sun filtering through the wide classroom windows. they’d been cracked open half an hour ago to let in some air, the spring blossoming into what kenma is already sure would be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer. he’s already dreading it.
“— and then i woke up!”
“aww… lame! you didn’t even make out!”
your laughter spills across the room, warm as the sun now soaking into kenma’s skin and he shakes himself awake, blinking unfocused towards the gaggle of girls sitting three rows ahead of him, heads bent together, a multi-limbed conglomeration of painted nails and hair pins, phone baubles and perfume. he shudders slightly — making out — what a thought. how gross. he’d never understood the appeal, even as more and more of his classmates began to whisper about it, to joke and cackle about it next to the shoe-lockers, in the stalls of the boys bathrooms during lunch, on the benches near the playparks on the way home, loitering around convenience store corners, eyes lingering on bare skin and bracelets, on rolled up sleeves and blushing cheeks.
kenma crinkles his nose, thinking now, of noses. and where on earth they’d even go if you were to —
“oi kenma-kun, do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”
kenma blinks, nonplussed as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.
“huh? you… don’t really believe that, do you?” he asks before he can quite stop himself. the resulting silence makes an uncomfortable heat climb up the length of his neck till his cheeks are burning with it, and still, you stare at him.
“why shouldn’t i? her dog eats weird stuff all the time.”
kenma blinks again, owlish, and he’s unsure if your confusion is feigned and this entire thing is just some elaborate prank, one that’ll break you into laughter any second. he resists the urge to look around, to make sure that the rest of his classmates aren’t all watching him like they’re in on the joke, waiting for the cue to start laughing as well. he feels his shoulders shrugging up as he fights down a frown.
“yeah but… that’s like the oldest excuse in the book, isn’t it? my dog ate my homework?”
this time, its your turn to blink, cocking your head to one side as you regard him, not a hint of malice or trickery in sight. he feels almost ashamed of himself for thinking it of you. of course you wouldn’t.
and then, you laugh. and he starts again, not because this was what he’d been afraid of but because this is the exact kind of laughter he was not expecting, pure and unhurried and unabashedly happy.
“ah — i guess you’re right, but… well, if she wants to keep my notes, then that’s fine. i’ll just make another set. so…” you smile at him, bright as dawn and summer starlight, “can i borrow your notes from yesterday?”
kenma resists the urge to groan, because his mind is already racing into overdrive — why not just ask kiyo from 2-b to give you back your notes again? nay, to demand that she give it back? to threaten her dog with… with what yet, kenma isn’t sure, but he is sure that that would be simpler, would it not, than to ask him for his notes. even though, sure, yes — he has almost all the same classes as you and sure, yes — he does also take pretty good notes. and sure, yes — fine.
this might be the path of least resistance but… doesn’t it feel a bit like punching in the cheatcode? isn’t it stunting… character growth and exp gain for both you and kiyo in 2-b? what if this causes a glitch in the matrix and you’re stuck in the eternal loop of borrowing people’s notes only to have your own notes be taken and eaten by kiyo’s homework-devouring dog until no one in school has notes anymore and everyone fails? would everyone have to hard-reset and start the year over?
“uh… sure… i guess. if you promise to give it back.” he reaches into his bag to pull out his notebook, pressing his lips for a second before handing it over.
you make a noise that’s caught between a squeal and a squeak. it’s a happy sound, he’s sure.
“thank you, thank you, thank you! and yes, i promise i’ll give it back! and my dog doesn’t eat homework — only table scraps and puppy treats — and maybe the occasional piece of trash on the sidewalk, but definitely no homework!”
you press the notes to your chest and beam at him and kenma finally lets out a soul-shaking sigh. he wishes he were home; he wishes he were playing video games; he wishes that the day came with a fast-forward button so he didn’t have to deal with all these scenarios that don’t make a lick of human sense.
the next day, when you return his notes, it’s with a shy smile and that he isn’t entirely sure what to make of. you’d licked your lips and looked anywhere but at him before pressing the notebook back into his chest and scurrying off with a thankssomuchforyournotes! tossed over your shoulder before you’re disappearing into your multi-limbed girl-gaggle and they were all laughing and giggling as they absorb you back into their amorphous blob, casting furtive glances his way that make his shoulders want to shrink up to his ears, if only to hide his face behind.
he hunkers down over his notebook, adjusts his sports bag and hurries into homeroom.
it isn’t until japanese literature, when he’s flipping open said borrowed-and-now-returned notebook that he notices — there’s a drawing on next blank page. or, well, what used to be the next blank page but is now definitely no longer blank. and it’s a drawing of you.
kenma stares down at it, at the cartoonishly large head, the huge, anime-lashed eyes, at your chibi-rendered hands clasped together in an unmistakable gesture of thanks. and something inside him jumps. something warm and thumping and uncoordinated. it coughs, skips, skids inside his chest and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s his heart.
thanks again! let me treat you to lunch sometime?
he reads the line four times before he finally manages to process the words. lunch. sometime.
treat?
he frowns. but school lunches are always free.
his eyes slingshot towards you, drawn as if by a magnetic force, and he finds you immediately. your eyes meet and a zing sings through him, shaking him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away. instead, you cock your head as if asking a question.
his heart thumps, and then thumps again. heat slowly unfurls in the base of his stomach, something like hunger, except it isn’t actually hunger. it’s a wanting, a thrumming wish — pressing and feverish and — he swallows hard, tearing his eyes away from you to look back down at the drawing, at the words.
treat. lunch. sometime.
sometime. but it can’t be during school. then when?
kenma freezes as realization washes through him, cold as a too-large bite of icecream.
oh. oh.
and then, he blushes hard enough for him to bury his face in his arms, refusing to pick his head up even when the literature teacher asks him expressly if he were feeling ill.
it’s saturday at noon, to be precise. and as kenma waits outside the neighborhood soba house, he wonders briefly if he’d accidentally stumbled upon a hidden side-quest that’s actually more difficult than the main storyline, because he’s almost certain that he’d never signed up for this.
cold-soba with you. alone. together.
no. he scuffs his feet against the floor, his fingers furling and unfurling in his pockets, so unaccustomed to not having a game console to fiddle with, no controllers to twiddle. he feels it like a phantom itch, like ghost-controllers as he opts for chewing on his lower lip instead.
stupid kuroo, taking away his switch. stupid, stupid, genius kuroo, letting it “slip” that kenma had a date on saturday, so that his mother had fussed all morning and had subjected him to a full-body pat down to confiscated the rest of his ill-hidden hand-held gaming consoles one by one with a scowl and a reprimand of no gaming when you’re on your first real date, kozume!
at least, he thinks, tugging his phone out of his pocket to flip through the preinstalled games there, there’s alway snake —
“kenma-kun! hi! sorry i’m late!”
your voice catches him like a punch in the stomach and he almost drops his phone, fumbling it for a second before catching it and shoving it into his pocket.
he looks up, a frown already forming on his forehead when he stops — he catches sight of you and that strange, twisting not-hunger-hunger gnaws at a growing space inside him. because oh — there you are. you’re standing in front of him, a little breathless, but dressed like… like a display from a pastry store window, or one of those ball-jointed dolls that have entire fan-followings online. you’re lashes and lace, earrings and nail-art, and all the normal things he’d come to associate with the strange, foreign concept of girl-geometry but you’re also nervous, and sweet, and looking up at him with those huge eyes, not unlike those in the chibi-doodle version of yourself that you’d left in his notebook.
and nervousness he understands. sweetness… he understands too. to a certain degree.
“no, you’re fine… i just got here too,” he says, and it’s a not-really-lie, because he did just get here… like fifteen minutes ago. but time’s just a human construct anyway, and there’s no point in getting caught up in the semantics.
he takes a breath at the same time you do, and you break into a fit of nervous laughter that makes him want to reach out and bottle the sound. or maybe just to record it on his phone for a rainy day. he tamps down the strange and doubtlessly creepy urge with a cough and motions vaguely towards the door.
“uh — you wanna…”
you nod, a bit too hard, before brushing by him into the soba shop and bowing to the middle-aged woman behind the counter.
she seats the pair of you in a booth, tucked into the corner, and for this kenma is thankful. he feels himself relaxing into the secludedness of the position.
“hot?” he asks, watching as you fan yourself with your hand from across the table.
you freeze and blush again, and he looks down immediately, feeling rather guilty for putting you on the spot. but when he glances back at you, you’re smiling.
“yeah, a little. it’s gonna be so gross this summer.”
“yeah, i know. i hate it already.”
he would’ve winced if it hadn’t been cut off by the sound of your laughter. with this, at least, he is familiar. how many times had he let himself melt into that sound during all those classes you had together? how many times had he centered himself around it, made it the still point of his turning universe, grounded himself to it so he could count from one moment to the next. he hadn’t thought it anything strange before now — after all, isn’t that what the internet says you’re supposed to do when you’re feeling unmoored? to find a commonality and stake yourself to it. only…
is it strange that he’d chosen your laughter?
it’d been such a simple choice, so easy to make — it was everywhere, and when it wasn’t there, he could conjure up the sound perfectly.
sitting across from you now, he pauses, wondering what kuroo would say if he were ever to bring this up. probably call him a pervert and never let him live it down.
“me too. i think i hate a lot of things but…” you break off, your eyes meeting his for a split second before looking away.
kenma breathes, watches the way you worry your bottom lip.
the conversation is stilted, but after a while, the awkwardness wears off. like silver soaking off years of accumulated tarnish, the shine breaking through as the soba is served and the pair of you are left slurping at the chilled noodles.
by the time he offers to walk you home, kenma finds that he’s no longer searching for things to do with his fingers, the phantom itch of a ghost-console no longer needed to occupy the space between his hands. and when you say goodbye to him this time, it’s no longer a string of words strung together too fast, tossed like an endless hope over your shoulder, but held between the pair of your bodies like a promise.
“see you on monday!”
kenma smiles, “yeah… sure. see you then.”
he watches as you turn to walk away, and his feet warm with the premonition of motion, but something holds him still, holds him there as he watches you take two steps, three steps — and then, you turn back around. and you’re closing the space between you and him, quick as a flash, your lips grazing the skin of his cheek, and then just as quickly, you’re falling back onto your just-taken steps, your cheeks ablaze as you wave a hand at him and race off before he can do more than open his mouth, his jaw loosened by the action, the thought — the motion and e-motion of it all.
kenma stares at the place where your body had just been, taking up space, and then oh-so-abruptly… not.
you’d turned the corner, and now not even your shadow lingers, but he fancies that there’s still a break in the light, a tear in the air just in front of him where you had been, warmed by your just-there-ness. slowly, he raises a hand to swipe it through that space, before bringing it up to his cheek to brush it against the place where your lips had been.
and are now no longer.
and there too, he feels his own skin, warmed by the just-there-ness of your no-longer-there lips.
three days, it takes him. three days to build up the courage to ask you out again. on another date. and this time, he doesn’t tell kuroo, or his mother, but he doesn’t bring games with him either.
the frozen yogurt place isn’t too crowded on a wednesday night, early enough to still be dinner-time, too late for the afternoon-stragglers to be out and about. he arrives, as he had done, fifteen minutes before you, and he wastes no time in starting a game of snake on his phone.
by the time you get there, it’s getting hard to maneuver the pixel-snake’s body without it’s tail trailing across the entire screen.
“i thought you’d only be into the kind of games with like… a million levels or something.”
your voice jolts him out of his intense concentration, and this time, he does drop his phone. your reach out to catch it with a knowing grin, handing it back to him, but by then, the large GAME OVER is already flashing over the screen.
“oops… sorry,” you say, looking genuinely apologetic.
“don’t be. and you’re right, i do like games with a ton of levels but… things like this are fun once in a while too.”
he blushes as he motions at the space between the pair of you, his phone still clutched in his hand, so that it’s unclear if he’s talking about the game or… something else entirely.
“only once in a while?” you venture, the slightest hint of a tease in your voice. and it’s incredible, he thinks, the change a single week’s worth of familiarity can do for the both of you. because while your first “date” had been all awkward silences and rough, stumbling changes of topic, this one — already — has taken on a sheen of smoothness and liquidity that makes kenma’s skin prickle up with what he can only assume is excitement.
“well… maybe — i dunno…” he gulps as he holds open the door for you to walk into the yogurt store, “it’s only a pattern if something happens more than three times, right?”
and god, where had this come from? this daring, this strange, almost alternate-universe confidence — and is he really flirting?
you let out a pleased sort of hum that warms his entire body and he thinks that he’d rather like to hear that sound again too. to add to his collection of bottle-able sounds that come from your body — he bites off the thought there, because kuroo will really start to call him a pervert then.
“i’m free on saturday,” you say, turning towards him to offer him a yogurt cup.
he stares at it for a second before taking it, letting his fingertips linger where they brush against yours.
“okay then,” he says, allowing himself the shadow of a smile as you ask him what his favorite yogurt flavor is, and he asks you your favorite toppings. and it’s easy like this, isn’t it? how had he ever thought this difficult? had it ever been? the bell-like sonance of your voice, the tinkling texture of your laughter, the great, blossoming fire licking up, up from the base of his stomach all the way to the top of his chest.
why had he ever scorned this as strange? as unnatural?
how could he have ever thought this to be a mere sidequest when this — he’s sure of it now — is the entire point of the game to begin with? because don’t all roads lead to this? to this giddiness and certainty? to this… unshakable knowing that he, even in his youth, is held still by in it’s immensity that this could be something more?
something like… love?
but it’s too early for that yet, and he’s getting ahead of himself. skipping the levels and peering at the walkthroughs.
he forces himself to focus on the tang of the yogurt, the crunch of the oreo chunks. he anchors himself to the grace of your smile and the weight of your laughter.
and after, when the yogurt is done and the night is still young, he offers to walk you home again. and this time, he doesn’t wait for you to close the gap between your bodies — he leans down to do it himself. because somewhere between the space of then and now, he’s made the decision that he doesn’t want the shadow or the just-there-ness anymore. he wants the just and the there. separate and whole and oh.
so that’s where your noses go.
the kiss breaks between you and kenma leans in to unbreak it.
you make a small noise at the back of your throat and he has to keep himself from grinning.
there, again, another bottle-able sound.
he inches his hand up to cup your cheek and you lean into him, pressing both your palms to his chest. and for moments and moments and moments, the pair of you stay locked there, breaking and unbreaking the kiss again and again and again until finally, you press him away to take a breath.
you are breathless, and so is he.
and briefly, oh so briefly, kenma wonders as he looks at you, stares into your eyes as you look back at him, if this could be called dreaming.
“oi… oi kenma-kun?”
kenma blinks, frowning slightly as your face swims into view, his vision catching on the tiny gems glinting from your earlobes.
“h-huh?”
your face is inches from his, and the afternoon sun is warm against his skin. the classroom behind you is filled with the scent of a blossoming spring, trailing into what kenma already knows will be an absolutely sweltering tokyo summer.
your voice rings through him like knowing, and your smile, when he finally focuses on it with bleary eyes and a buzzing mind, looks something like the remnants a dream.
“do you have notes from yesterday’s class? i lent mine to kiyo in 2-b and she says her dog ate it.”
kenma chews on his lips as he weighs the answer on his tongue, and finally, he allows himself a tiny, secret smile as he digs around in his bag for the notebook, handing it to you as he says —
“you don’t actually believe that, do you?”
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purplevortexx · 2 years
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Home (Leech Part Two)
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read part one here
summary: after last night events, you and Rooster have a talk.
pairing: rooster x reader
warnings: mega angst, allusions to bad past relationship (no specifics), crying, arguing etc.
words: 1.9K
a/n: here is Leech part two!!!!! Enjoy folks and let me know what you think!!! Feedback is always appreciated
✨add yourself to my taglist(s) here✨
You wake the next morning slumped against the inside of your front door with your eyes almost stuck shut from crying yourself to sleep. It takes you a minute to re-orient yourself as to what happened and why you’re laying against the door.
When everything from the night before comes flooding back, you bring your hands to your eyes to wipe away new tears that come leaking down your face. There’s a faint ache in your chest which becomes more prominent as you recall the fight between you and Bradley on the beach.
It takes nearly ten minutes for you to muster up the energy to peel yourself off the floor and up onto your feet. Head pounding, you make your way to the bathroom and remove lasts nights clothing and with it. You hope the removal of your clothes will mean the weight you feel on your chest will be lifted but it doesn’t. You loose track of the amount of time you spend in the shower but the water feels cold by the time you get out. Not that you feel it that much, you just feel numb.
You change into comfy clothes and decide to raid your kitchen for the most unhealthy food you can find, you probably deserve it after all the shit you’ve been through in the past 24 hours.
Just as you open your refrigerator, a loud knock sounds and you hang your head in frustration. “Fuck off,” you groan, closing the refrigerator door with a slam.
The incessant knocking continues and you groan even louder as you make your way to the door. “I’m coming!” You yell in annoyance.
It doesn’t surprise you much when you open the door to see Rooster stood on the other side but it does take all the breath out of your lungs and leave you feeling winded. You don’t even know how long you stare at him without speaking but you do know it’s too long.
He’s the one who breaks the silence. “Uh, hi.” He says with an awkward wave. It’d be hilarious if it didn’t kill you just a little bit inside hearing him sound so calm when you’ve been feeling so confused, empty and angry all at the same time. You can’t reply to him even if you wanted to. Anything you want to say gets stuck in your throat, it’s almost as if someone poured super glue down your trachea. You settle for a stiff nod in acknowledgment of his words. At this point, you think, it’s all he deserves.
Whilst you’re thinking of what to say to the person who until yesterday you were sure you could see a future with, you notice another figure stood behind Rooster.
Bob Floyd stands behind his friend sheepishly, giving you a warm smile in greeting. When you frown at him in confusion he stumbles over an explanation in true Bob fashion. “I- uh… I just thought I’d drive him. Y’know, just in case you don’t … want him here?” The ending of his words come out more posed as a question, his gaze wavering as he glances over at his friend who has gone quiet listening to his remark with a hard look. You all know there’s the unspoken words of ‘I will drag him the fuck out of here if that’s what you want.’ and it obviously unnerves Rooster more than you thought it would. You’ve always appreciated that about Bob, he’s protective over people he loves and you’ve come to love him like a brother over the time you and Rooster have been together.
You smile at Bob in gratitude, “uh, it’s ok.” You tell him, finally finding the courage you need to speak, then turn to the pilot stood by his side. “I guess we should talk, huh?” Your words come out hoarse and cracked thanks to the hours you spent painting the hallway with your tears.
You retreat back into the comfort of your home, with Rooster following you through the open door. He shuts it behind him, and although you can still see the silhouette of Bob behind the clouded glass, you suddenly feel alone.
It’s silent between you for a glorious two seconds before Bradley starts his onslaught of apologies. You barely hear half of it, too busy staring at the walls in your hallway, wondering if he can hear the echoes of your pained sobs still bouncing off the walls.
“- I swear I’m the biggest idiot there is, I know I was wrong, I get that now but can’t we just move past this?” This is what he chooses to say to you.
Sighing shakily, you compose yourself before replying. “I don’t think you understand just how much you’ve hurt me.” You tell him and his brown eyes soften as they really take you in for the first time today.
You’re not the smiley, put together person you usually are. All he can see is bloodshot eyes and pain written all across your face. He notices the lines across your face from where the patterns of the door have indented themselves in your skin when you collapsed against it in anguish last night. But most of all, he notices the way you’re looking at him and trying not to cry. He never wanted to make you cry.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t get it last night, I was just trying to make excuses and I shouldn’t but I don’t want to be the guy who makes you feel like this.” He moves closer, having previously been stood a fair distance away from you. You don’t move back and he takes it as a cue to continue. “Just please, can you give me a second chance? I swear I’ll make it up to you.” Rooster pauses and you take that as your turn to tell him how you really feel.
You toy with your sleeves nervously, knowing he needs to hear what you’re about to say. Looking up from the ground, you meet his eyes with a watery smile.
“-I forgive you, Bradley.” His face breaks out into a relieved smile and he steps towards you, reaching out to take your hands into his own. You look into his brown eyes, filled with optimism and hope and continue to speak. “You’ve made me so happy over the past months. I don’t think you’re a bad guy.” Pausing, you take a deep breath, hands shaking as you gently remove them from Roosters grip . “I - I love you.” You whisper, looking down at the ground and willing the tears swimming in your eyes to stop falling.
His smile widens as you say those words to him and he goes to speak but you’re not finished and you cut him off before he can say anything “but I don’t think I can trust you.”
The beaming smile on Rooster’s face falls in an instant. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t keep doing this and wondering if you’re telling other people everything I tell you.”
“I’ll never go near Razor again.”
“This isn’t about Razor, Bradley!” You nearly scream in frustration. “It’s about you not respecting me! The nickname, the talks about our sex life, it’s not right. You can’t treat someone you’re in a relationship with like that!”
He nods solemnly, like a child found sneaking chocolate upstairs for a midnight feast. For a moment you think maybe he finally gets it. Maybe he understands now why you’re so upset. You can’t be sure though, you never could tell for definite what he’s thinking. “You know I didn’t mean the Leech thing Y/N. Yeah it wasn’t a good move but I would never intentionally hurt you.”
You nod slowly. “I know that,” you tell him. “But I’ve been in a relationship like this before and I don’t want to feel like this.” His solemn expression drops further into one of hurt and horror at the realisation of what this means.
“No,” he says firmly, like a petulant toddler arguing with its mother. “No no no no no, Y/N please! I can do better. Let me be a better man for you.” He begs, placing his hands together as he pleads with you to salvage this relationship.
“But what if you can’t?” You sob, “I don’t want to be the reason you change Bradley, you need to want to do it for yourself.”
“But we’re so good together.” He tries, his words sounding feeble and weak.
You sob again, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. “But that’s not enough.” You whisper.
A lone tear rolls down Roosters face and tickles your thumb as you wipe it away for him. “You’re a good man Bradley Bradshaw.” You tell him earnestly. “You’re just not the one for me.” You end your words as you press your forehead against his, both of you silent as you take in the end of your relationship.
It takes a minute for him to move and when he does he places a light kiss on your forehead, a sweet gesture to say goodbye. Making his way back to the door, he stops as his palm touches the handle. “For what it’s worth,” he starts and you’re not sure you want to hear the rest of the sentence. “I love you too.”
You’re pretty certain your heart stops beating. He never was good with words or timing and this is a prime example of that. His eyebrows raise in hope at your reaction, but no matter how much that phrase makes you want to take him back, you know this would happen again. You know you’d keep having fights similar to this one and you’d end up a shell of yourself. The self-respect you’ve built up means you won’t do that to yourself. Not again. You won’t let it happen again.
“Goodbye Bradley.” Is the response you use and he sighs in defeat, wrenching the door open and striding out without looking back. Your pained gaze meets Bob’s and you know you don’t have to tell him what’s happened, he can tell by the way you’re both acting.
The slam of Bob’s car door makes you both cringe. “I’m sorry.” You say but Bob just frowns and shakes his head.
“Don’t apologise, you did what you had to do.” You nod, afraid to say anymore words out of fear of breaking down. “I think you’re really brave.” Bob tells you and at your confused look, he explains “you saw where it was going and ended it. I admire you for that.” You half smile and pull Bob in for a quick hug.
“Thank you,” you whisper, pulling away and he just nods.
“Anytime.”
And with that he makes his way over to his car where Rooster has been watching your encounter with a blank gaze. You practically run back into the house and slam the door, breathing heavily as everything comes crashing down on you.
You find yourself laying on your couch sobbing for a while before you decide to eat something in response to your stomach that has started growling. As you get up to move towards the kitchen, you see your phone lit up. There are quite a lot of messages from last night through to this morning. Phoenix had texted asking you to call her when you’re ready to talk. Bob had sent one before arriving at your house to give you the heads up.
There’s one text however that when you read it, you feel numb all over. It’s a recent text, only 10 minutes old.
It’s from Bradley and it’s only one word.
‘Home.’
tag list: @call-sign-jinx
[if you want to be added to my tgm tag list let me know!]
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oolathurman · 4 months
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whenever i get super restless i start looking at housing options in my area. don't ask why, i don't have an answer. but. please look at this place with me.
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3 bed, 2 bath, 1080 square feet, with a 2 car garage, for $500k in Los Angeles. Don't know how nice the actual neighborhood is tho. Anyways.
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the front entry/living room. grimy as hell. i'm not necessarily seeing any cracks which could mean poor foundation and given how ugly this house is, built in 1976, i feel like any bad foundation issues may've shown themselves via cracks by now? idk tho. i just watch a lot of flipping shows, what do i know?
that said, the interior pix remind me of that video of someone picking up a piece of uranium and the radiation doing funny things to their phone's camera. so. a little concerning there.
my fav part tho? the kitchen.
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in all its neon green/yellow glory.
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unsure if the wall where the stove would be is showing cracks or smth else tbh. the ceiling's kinda hilarious with the tray ceiling and two (count em, two!) recessed lights. Also i doubt that even a good DIYer would have trouble trying to salvage those cabinets, looks like they don't close properly. and where the hell would i put a fridge or dishwasher? before the little half wall that separates the kitchen area, but after the neon green indicates the start of the room? i guess those lil half walls can be torn down tho since they're not supporting anything, so maybe that'd work? could put a dining table in front of that window at least, if that's the case.
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the previous residents must've gotten a good deal on paint or smth cut it's everywhere. guess they had no more money after putting down what looks like. vinyl wood-look floors? no idea what this room is tho, i assume a bedroom but the gieger counter screaming in pain is making it hard to tell.
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i guess it's technically???? zoned for a bedroom? but i thought a closet's supposed to have a door or smth? idk shit about cali zoning laws tho. i guess you could put some sliding doors over this tho. still can't tell if that flooring is vinyl or actually like. parquet. or both. probably both. you see that light that's falling off the ceiling? and is that a mirror above the closet???
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what is up with the perspective in these photos, they make the ceiling look like it's--- wait no it's actually at an angle, oh ok that's. god these photos are sure something. same with the paint. also i think this is AT LEAST the third kind of flooring we've seen, after the tile and the parquet. unknown if the first bedroom is a different-- wait no. this is four different kinds of flooring. in one house. what bargain bin leftovers did these people find....
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continuation of what i can only assume is the primary/master suite. y'all see the pain chipping at the bottom left of that wall? i can't tell if it's water damage or just paint or-- what the fuck is up with the real estate agent's phone camera. anyone who buys this place is going to need to get the place tested for chemicals or some shit. also what the fuck is up with the framing of the closet? why's it all separated???
oh and i didn't show yall the garage earlier!
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were they trying to put some kinda flooring down? it isn't clear. what's up with that wall on the right of the image tho???
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i'm guessing it may have been an unpermitted or a former room in the house? with what looks like tile and with the window being so high up, was it some kinda bathroom???? what's going on here???
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ladymunson · 2 years
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This Is Halloween
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Fic Summary: It’s almost your favourite time of year, which also happens to be your birthday. Eddie wants to know… trick or treat?
A/N: This is a small blurb for my good friend @eddiesprincess86 for her birthday. I hope you like it! Also it’s set modern day AU
Word Count: 852
Warnings: None, sweet fluffy nonsense :)
I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied, translated or posted to any other platform.
Support content creators by reblogging.
“Happy birthday Princess!” Eddie whispers in your ear as his arms wrap around your middle. You grin, and lay your head back on his chest. You stop what you’re doing to turn in his grasp. His arms stay in the same place so they’re wrapped around the small of your back.
“Thank you for being the best birthday gift a girl could wish for!” You say, Eddie snorts making you cringe. “Sorry that was so cheesy!”
“Super cheesy!” Eddie agrees with a grin but leans down to press a kiss to your lips. Then he lets you go. “Gotta run sweetness, your present won’t set itself up.”
“You haven’t done anything stupid have you?” You ask with a cocked eyebrow.
“You will never hear the words stupid and Eddie Munson in the same sentence!” He says with seriousness and a dramatic flourish.
You scoff. “Yeah right!”
“Don’t ruin my moment!” Eddie pouts.
The sound of banging on your door brings you back to the present, you’d gotten lost scrolling through tumblr you’d kinda spaced out. You put your phone down and walk to the door, opening it expecting to see Eddie and the rest of the gang.
But Eddie is alone. “Trick or treat?” He says, you look up at his face and crack into a huge smile. He’s in full costume, and his face is painted, like Jack Skellington.
“You did this for me?” You ask, chuckling.
“Well it is your favourite movie, are you gonna leave me out here all night?” Eddie asks, hand on his hips. You smile and step aside to let him in.
He goes straight for your dvd collection and digs out what he’s looking for. Going straight to the player and inserting the disc, smiling at you. He sits on the couch and pats the space beside him, you hold out your hand to indicate one second and disappear into the kitchen. Coming back moments later with sodas and snacks, you hand them to Eddie before taking a seat beside him. He picks up the remote and presses play.
The opening to the movie starts and you try to stop yourself saying the opening narration, Eddie gives you the side eye as if telling you that he’s waiting for you. But he doesn’t say anything and neither do you.
The opening musical number begins and you look at each other and start humming along.
Boys and girls of every age, wouldn’t you like to see something strange.
Come with us and you will see, this our town of Halloween.
This is Halloween, this is Halloween. Pumpkins scream in the dead of night.
This is Halloween, everybody make a scene.
Trick or treat ‘til the neighbours gonna die of fright.
All of a sudden Eddie is up on his feet, acting out the song.
He kneels down like a creeper and sings along.
I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red.
Then his up and wiggling his fingers like snakes and spider legs.
I am the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair.
You’re howling with laughter and not managing to keep up with the singing. In fact you miss the rest of the song while you’re laughing, but Eddie continues to act it all out.
Once the song is over he sits beside you once again and acts as if nothing has happened, which has you giggling.
“What?” Eddie asks.
“You’re such a dork!” You say with a chuckle.
“But you love me anyway.” He replies with a grin.
You both continue to watch the movie, saying all your favourite lines and quotes along with the characters on screen. Just before the climax of the movie, Eddie gets up off the couch and heads into the bathroom, you pay no attention and carry on watching.
Just after the people of Halloween town sing their version of What’s This, Eddie comes out of the bathroom. He doesn’t come back to the couch though, which confuses you slightly until he begins to approach while singing.
My dearest friend, if you don’t mind. I’d like to join you by your side.
Where we can gaze into the stars.
You begin to sing along.
And sit together, now and forever. For it is plain, as anyone can see.
We’re simply meant to be…
And with the last few notes playing on the tv, Eddie leans down and kisses you. “I love you.” He says as he pulls back.
You smile and reply. “I love you too, my Jack.”
“My Sally.” Eddie says and you share another kiss.
The End.
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pancakerry · 1 year
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love on paint - hs blurb
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(in inspo of this)
-
summary: you’re home while harry’s in the studio and decide to paint.. slightly naked.
warnings: super domestic w/ a hint of smut
word count: 1k
every morning harry usually wakes me up before he leaves to go on a run or the studio and gives me a kiss. however, today i wasn’t woken up at the crack of dawn. instead i woke up at 11am with an empty left side of the bed and an unkissed cheek from my lover. groggily rolling over to my nightstand, i check my phone to see a message from harry:
“Good morning, my love. So sorry I couldn’t say goodbye to you this morning. I was in a hurry and you looked so peaceful, you haven’t gotten much sleep this past week so I didn’t wanna wake you. I’ll be home around 3. I love you xx.”
pouting at the words on my phone, i decide to give him a call so i could at least talk to him this morning but he didn’t answer. after contemplating my next move i get out of bed and head to the bathroom to get a start on my day which includes my skincare routine, brushing my teeth, doing my hair, and getting dressed. since today is my wash day i decide to put my hair in a half up, half down style with a silver butterfly claw clip. heading to my closet, i realize practically my whole wardrobe is currently in the wash. shit.
i decide to forgo pants and a shirt and just wear my underwear and socks; it’s not like anyones gonna see anyways. as i’m making my bed i hear a grumble coming from my stomach, signaling it’s about time to eat something so i’m not starving to death by dinner time. i speed down the stairs, and almost tripping in the process, and look in the fridge and pantry seeing if i was in the mood for breakfast or lunch since it’s currently in between. out of pure laziness and lack of motivation to even brainstorm a meal, i get the ingredients to make a smoothie which happens to be one of harry’s favorite things i make him. i take out the cranberry-mango juice, heavy cream, berries, and mix it all up in the blender. as i’m pouring it into a love on tour cup harry calls me. excitedly, i pick up:
“hi baby!!”
“Hi love, have you eaten yet?”
giggling, “yes h, i just made my famous smoothie. wish you were at home, i have some extra.” i state, pouting through the phone.
“I wish I was there too baby, I’m sorry again for not saying bye. I hate not doing it, proper messes up my whole schedule!” he says dramatically.
laughing through my words, “oh stoppp, don’t be dramatic!”
after a few more minutes of conversation, i say my goodbyes and hang up due to hearing commotion in the background. while i love talking to him more than anything, i don’t wanna get him any more distracted than he probably already is.
as i sip my smoothie, i take it with me to me and harry’s combined office and get painting supplies to occupy all the extra time i, surprisingly, have. after looking on pinterest for painting ideas, i choose to take a more personal route and paint a picture from my camera roll of harry and i on a picnic in italy. particularly nervous for this painting, i get all the brushes and paint i need and start sketching with a pencil.
as a child, my dad never supported my love for art and how in touch i was with my creative side. he found it useless and wanted me to become a lawyer because it would “bring more money and give our family an important reputation”. he was so unsupportive that whenever i’d show him a piece i made, i would receive the response, “it’s no big deal,” and with my mom dead, no one was there to back me up or support me. ever since then, i never picked up a paintbrush.
however, i am quite good at painting and i always have been but this will be the first time harry sees it and i want it to be perfect for him. once my sketch is done, i get lost in the strokes of the paintbrush and become put in a haze of my creativity and all i had pictured for this portrait. i’m so in the flow that i fail to realize that harry arrived at home and is leaning against the doorframe, staring at me with so much love and lust in his eyes.
“Hello darling,” he states ever so softly as he walks towards my practically naked figure.
“holy shit, h! you scared the fuck out of me! when did you get home?!” i shout.
“Not too long ago, I was just admiring you. What are you painting, love?”
embarrassed, i quickly shield my work with my body. “nothing!” through flushed cheeks.
his eyes slowly travel from my face to my chest, eyes getting darker the longer he stares, making me blush even harder.
throwing his head back, “fuck baby, you’re so fit.” he says through a choked groan, resting his delicate hands on my hips and squeezing.
moaning at the sudden movement and comment, i lean forward and kiss him feverishly, expressing my love through the kiss. the painting is 100% sure long forgotten.
“you seem to be overdressed for the occasion,” i pant out with a smirk and quickly remove his shirt, admiring his abs and tattoos on his body. he lifts my chin up and says, “up” signaling that i should wrap my legs around his slim waist so he can lead me to the bedroom.
through the sound and action of teeth clashing, pants, moans, and grinding, he leads me to our bedroom and throws me onto the bed, my hair splayed across my face and the bed. leaning forward, his raspy voice whispers and pants in my ear, “after this, you’re gonna show me that painting of yours and if you’re good, i’ll let you be in control.” he says slapping my ass and biting my lip. gasping at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hardness pressing into my crotch, i gasp out, “yes sir.”
this is gonna be a long night (and i’m not complaining).
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rogueshadeaux · 1 year
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Chapter Sixteen — Precipice
Were the monkey suits pulling the wool over my eyes that well, or was I just blind? Because with the gray beanie and vest, all casual wear — it was him. Older, wiser, a bit more wrinkled. But there was no doubt in my mind.
5.6k words | 19 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: arguing? they finally get a break :) for now
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I woke up curled against the back cushions of the couch, sunlight streaming through the windows. It took me a few minutes to move from right there; I was still so fucking exhausted. It took way too much effort to flip over. 
Most of the boxes on the floor by the couch were gone save for one with trinkets and the one with Ruth’s blanket. The fire was dead, a pile of ash and wood that made me nauseous to look at for too long, and there was no sign of Dad. 
Which made me feel really bad, ‘cause I took his sleep spot. 
I debated just going back to sleep when I offhandedly thought looking at the clock on the oven would be a good idea, physically jolting when it read 2:16. Was it really that late in the day? I forced myself up, begrudgingly leaving the blanket on the couch as I went to freshen up in the bathroom. 
Brent wasn’t in the nursery, Dad not in the master, and neither downstairs — but Brent’s bed was moved into Reggie’s room, the boxes discarded all around the foot of it. They must’ve talked, if our photo album wide open on the bed was any hint — but where the hell were they? 
I bounded back up to the ground floor, a bit panicky until I heard a distinctive crack that barely echoed in from outside. It wasn’t in the front — the snow on the truck hadn’t even been brushed off yet — so I rushed back to look through the slated blinds of the sliding glass door, relieved to see Brent and Dad talking. Dad was holding the ax Brent had made in hand, a split log at his feet. 
‘Course. Destructive boy time, I should’ve known. 
But under the knit hat, Brent’s forehead was splotched red, eyes still bloodshot, and I knew what Dad was doing — he was trying to keep Brent from pushing himself hard again. I’m surprised he was even up now, to be honest; maybe the Conduit powers ‘hard reset’ his body over the night? I wasn’t expecting to see him before dinner. 
Either way, I left them alone, making something that was all breakfast food but shouldn’t constitute such as the clock hit 3 PM before I dug in, hearing more weird metal grinding sounds from outside. 
I disappeared downstairs, digging through the leftover boxes in Dad’s room and bringing them back upstairs to distribute them. It was still so cool being in a room full of Delsin Rowe’s art — and sort of weird. Something in my mind just wasn’t computing that this Delsin Rowe was my Dad Delsin Rowe; surely they were two separate people, right? The idea that they were one in the same was still a completely foreign concept to me. 
I shoved linens away in the giant hall closet, bounding back down the stairs and pulling at the taped edges of another box until the cardboard came free, peeling it open to sort through the next batch of things. 
And freezing when I noticed what was in it. 
Oh my god. All that doubt of my Dad-Delsin Rowe and Revolutionist-Delsin Rowe being the same guy disappeared as I pulled out that iconic jean jacket with the two-headed eagle spray painted on the back, the vest stiff from unmoving for so long. It still had the little buttons on it even! A bunch of band buttons, one of a capital G crossed out that I didn’t really get, one with the logo of that super old furry video game I knew Cat emulated all the time, Sly-something. A bigger one with the Conduit emblem on it again, as if anyone could miss the giant spray painted logo on the back. 
I was holding a piece of history! It kinda felt like this belonged in a museum, honestly. There was so much willpower going into not putting it on, even if it’d just be some sort of art smock on me more than a vest. This was the vest. Holy shit. 
There was sudden chuckling behind me, and I spun in place to see Dad leaned against the doorframe, an eyebrow cocked. “Wha’cha got there?”
My cheeks grew hot like I was a kid just caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I was, uh, unpacking while you guys did whatever and…” I held it up. “Vest.” 
‘Vest.’ Really, Jean? 
Brent popped his head around the corner, starting off with, “Oh you’re awa—“ and ending with, “Holy sh—“ 
“Brent.”
“Ah! I didn’t curse that time, doesn’t count!” 
I snorted as Brent made his way past Dad and into the room, coming close to look at the jacket and sort of freezing when I held it out for him to look at. But eventually he took it, fanning it out to look at the Conduit emblem in all its glory. “I ever tell you what inspired that?” Dad asked.
“Don’t think you could have,” Brent pointed out, Dad nodding in a sort of resigned agreement. 
“Yeah, fair. But anyways, have you ever heard of the Thunderbird?” 
Brent blinked, turning his head to look at Dad. “Like the guy from the Tom Clancy Revivals?” 
“No, like the myth. It was this giant two headed eagle said to make thunder with its wings and shoot lightning out of his mouth — uh, mouths. The Thunderbird isn’t only an Akomish thing; the Twana believed in him, and there’s a bunch of other tribes that do too. All around America, not just locally. I thought it was really cool that so many different tribes had this same idea about this one thing that when we made the band, I suggested we use it as like, a symbol of solidarity. And being the only one who could draw—“ he motioned to the jacket. “Came up with that. Didn’t want it to be too Akomish ‘cause we were trying so hard to break into the scene and didn’t want to look…traditional.”
He said so hard mockingly, as if he was an idiot back then. 
“It looks cool,” Brent commented, turning and motioning like he was gonna chuck the vest at Dad in a warning to get ready. Dad clapped his hands once and held them open, catching the vest in his hands. 
“Thunderbird is supposed to be this guardian spirit. He’s on the pole at the Longhouse as this whole protection thing—“
“But doesn’t that bird have one head?” I interrupted. 
Dad nodded. “Yeah. But that’s also why I like the Akomish version of Thunderbird most; he can split his head in half. He’s this eagle that balances the world, and his heads are supposed to be these symbols of good and bad karma. One would bring rain to water crops if the Akomish respected their traditions and each other, were good people and whatever. Other one would cause flash floods and dangerous storms and electrocute people or something. Just seemed pretty badass to me as a kid.” 
That was a really cool way to explain thunderstorms. 
Dad looked down at the jacket in his hands for an impossibly long time, long enough for Brent to glance over at me with his eyebrows raised and mouth ‘he okay?’ and for me to shrug in answer. “Hey, why don’t you two come sit on the couch,” he finally said, looking up at Brent and I. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Dad disappeared into the hall, Brent flashing me another confused look before following, me just on his tail. By the time we got to the ground floor of the house, Dad was already standing by the fireplace, the jean vest slung over the arm of the couch. 
It felt like an interrogation. Brent and I sat on the couch under Dad’s thoughtful gaze, and he didn’t break that stare for a while. Not until Brent shifted awkwardly and cracked, saying, “What’s up, Dad?” 
Dad inhaled, thinking over his words carefully before his eyes moved to focus solely on me. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, Jeanie,” he began. “And…you might be right.” 
Holy shit, he thought I was right?!
“Eugene called me earlier — there’s a protest tomorrow. March from COLE’s remains to city hall. He’s going, and…and I think I’m gonna go, too.” 
Brent looked from Dad to me, his stare almost accusatory as he said, “You’re leaving?” 
“Portland’s only a three hour drive,” Dad shrugged. “I’m planning on being back by Tuesday night. I’ll definitely be here for Christmas, I promise that much. But there’s Margie’s wake on Monday, and I need to talk to COLE about what’s going on, maybe set something up—“
“Oh, what, you're gonna go in office?” Brent bit, the swat I landed on his bicep definitely hurting me more than him. 
“Brent!” 
“No, Jean,” Brent brushed me off. “They just blew up COLE and you want to go out there? It’s not safe, Dad!” 
“I can take care of myself.” Dad said, surprisingly not even upset at his outburst. “I’ve been doing this for eighteen years.” 
“So? A fucking IED isn’t gonna ask for your work experience—“
“Stop cursing—“
“No, fuck that, Dad.” Brent shot to his feet. “What if something happens?”
“Something did happen: Nineteen people are dead because of speculation. You don’t have your phone right now, so you don’t know about what else is happening.” 
My heart sank. “‘What else?’”
Dad nodded. “There’s riots all over. People are using public databases to find Conduits and harass them, and Conduits aren’t holding back from retaliating. All of this started because of my connection to COLE, and they don’t even know if it’s true.” 
Brent scoffed. “So what, you want to play martyr?” 
“I want to clear the air,” Dad said through gritted teeth. “It’s — I can’t hide anymore, not unless you want to relocate out of the country and last I checked, you don’t have a passport. And you shouldn’t have to hide, Brent. Your sister shouldn’t, and neither should every Conduit in this country. Do you know how soul crushing the past eighteen years have been? Do you want to live a life where you have to hide who you are, what you are, until you die?” 
“I don’t want to lose my Dad because he cares about some fucking company more than me!” Brent raised his voice. “This isn’t about COLE—“
“It’s not!” Dad’s voice got louder too. “This is about you, and Jean, and every other Conduit getting the blame pinned on them for sins they didn’t commit—“ 
“So you’re going to go put a target on your back? Being their meat shield isn’t gonna fix anything—“ 
“It’s going to make sure more innocent people don’t die for something that isn’t their fault—“ 
“They can protect themselves!” Brent retorted, throwing up a hand in a random direction where these mythical theys were in accusation. “Why the hell should we have to sacrifice more for them? Mom’s fucking gone because of—“ 
“Abigail is gone because I wasn’t there to help her!” Dad roared, so loudly I was surprised the window shutters didn’t shake. He suddenly pointed towards me, the action making me flinch in place. “Your sister could have died because I wasn’t there to help. You got shot! Those people at COLE died because I wasn’t there to help. You know 11 of them were Conduits? How were they supposed to protect themselves then?”
Brent’s scowl didn’t disappear, but he bit his tongue, staying silent. Dad huffed a few times before running his hands over his face, exhaling with a sound not unlike a growl, but less defensive. “Please sit back down, Brent,” he requested, palms pressing into his eyeballs. 
Brent didn’t move until I reached out and tugged on his shirt, a silent plea to just listen. He rolled his eyes and plopped down rather violently, crossing his arms tight around his abdomen. 
Dad gave himself another minute, trying to calm himself down. The hands left his face but it took him quite a while to look at us again, eyes missing all that biting anger. He squatted down, placing a hand on each of our knees, chewing on his inner cheek for a minute before he even tried to speak — and even then, it took an extra try. “When I began pitching COLE, everything was restabilizing after the Second Recession and another mass lockdown from the virus — we were barely getting back to normal. There were these conspiracies about a Conduit causing it and it began all this bullshit. Politicians ran with it the next few elections and…god, it just got worse. Conduits started getting barred from places and being tracked and it…it wasn’t right. I couldn’t help them as Delsin, but I knew I could help as Damion. 
“They don’t need Damion anymore. I have a chance to help as Delsin, and shouldn’t we help when we can?” Dad turned to look at Brent, who deftly avoided his gaze. “I didn’t pick you up from eight Saturday school sessions because you don’t believe in helping people, Brent. You knew if that kid used their powers, they’d never see the outside of a juvie cell till they were an adult. You told me that. You know how important it is to help someone who can’t help themselves. 
“I’m scared to leave you two.” Dad shrugged. “I’m fucking terrified to, if I’m being honest. But I can’t hide either of you anymore. The world knows you exist, they know you’re Conduits. This isn’t just about them anymore, but you. I can do this for you, and that’s all I want. You shouldn’t have to do online school. You shouldn’t have been hit or shot, or…or have to grow up without your mom. All of that’s because of this fear mongering, all the bullshit from Empire City to now. If I can do something to change that for you two? I’m going to.
“I’m just going to the march, and maybe to speak. I’ve done it a dozen other times as Damion, just not as large-scale. From there, we’ll see what needs to happen next. But there’s a chance that if I also bring attention to this Archangel…thing or person or whatever, it’ll force them to draw back. I don’t know where to start with them, so maybe if I bring it up on a national stage, it’ll do something. But anything beyond this march, we will decide on as a family. I care about all the Conduits out there, but any sacrifices I make are for you two, and if there’s really something you don’t want me to do then I won’t do it. Eugene’s still there, he can take over whenever I need him to. But this is where it has to start.” 
I nodded, just happy my words meant something to him, enough to change his opinion. Dad seemed thankful for it, then turned to look at Brent, who sighed. “I’m sorry, Dad, I—“ 
“Don’t be.” Dad shrugged. “You have a right to be worried. Sometimes we need the people we love most to tell us when we’re being fucking idiots.” 
Brent breathed out a laugh, the hold around his torso slackening a bit. I didn’t miss the squeeze Dad gave his knee. 
“I love you both,” Dad added. “I just want to give you guys a world where you don’t have to be scared. You’ll be safe here, and I won’t be gone long.” 
Brent sighed, his arms fully letting himself go as he asked, “When are you gonna leave?” 
“I was thinking tonight. The march starts at eleven in the morning, so I should get there early. I also…I need to see the people in the hospital. Antonio. He’s probably torn up, now that Margie’s…” he trailed off. Shaking his head, he took to slapping his hand gently against our knees, standing. “I did want to do something before I Ieave, though.” 
I glanced at Brent, who looked just as clueless. “What?” 
Dad’s smile grew a bit more impish as he said, “We don’t have a tree.” 
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Brent had way too much fun mowing down the first fir. In fact, it didn’t survive the razor sharp saw he chucked at it, the tree bursting into a confetti of needles and wood chips that rained down on us, making me absolutely lose it as Dad just shook his head. “Oh god, this is payback for what I did to Reggie, isn’t it?” I heard him mutter to no one, running a hand over his face. 
The next tree, Dad stressed to Brent to try and properly judge the power he’d need. “You shouldn’t have figure out trajectory or anything, but you’re letting the powers obliterate stuff. Reel it in, alright?” 
Brent nodded, closing his eyes in thought before raising his arm, steel raising from it to trap it in its sleeve. He breathed once, holding the breath as if it’d help him aim, shreddings of steel rising from the layered steel on his arm to spin furiously around it. 
He drew his arm back and pushed forward, all of that steel exploding from his arm as it launched away, pulling into itself once it detached. It became this ramp of sorts, kinda like the steel edge of a hatchet, flying towards the base of the tree without wind to propel it and slicing clean through its trunk. The tree cried out some sort of crackly groan of protest before keeling over, falling to the ground in front of Brent. The curved slab continued its dive into the ground, imbedding itself in the snow with a hearty thunk. 
“There you go!” Dad said, clapping Brent on the shoulder. “We’ll even out the base when we get home. Now c’mon, help me pick it up,” 
No need; Dad only had to complain once about the prickly needles of the tree before Brent went full steel, hauling the tree up by its middle and carrying it like it was some lapdog forcing him to chauffeur it around, not a seven foot tall pine. 
We got back home after sunset, the dash on the truck only just passing 5 PM as Brent unloaded the tree with no issue. He got irrationally excited at the next part; building his own little tree stand from scratch. The side of the fridge was suddenly covered in expo marker as he did math for the size, measuring it out with a measuring tape he scored from the same junk drawer he found the marker in. I hadn’t seen him this excited to build something since the last gigantic Lego set Dad got him. 
“If I make this,” he began, cap of the marker between his teeth, “Y’think you can add something to it Jean?” 
“What like, decorate it?” 
Brent shrugged, finishing up a calculation before going, “Yeah,” 
I shook my head. “I don’t have any of my art supplies, and water isn’t that sort of power.”
“Keep it plain,” Dad interjected. “I have a better idea anyways.” 
Brent just shrugged again, going back to his math. 
He eventually made the tree stand, all that math apparently for an accompanying collar made out of a steel he somehow made look polished. Dad made us stop, finding something to pop in the oven for dinner and having us eat before saying, “Brent, come outside with me, we need to find something for you to drain. Jean, drain some water.” 
“Wh-, drain?” I glanced to Brent, who was already looking at Dad weird. “Why?” 
“You’ll see. Oh, and do the dishes while you’re there.” 
“Oh sure, pin the water chore on the water Conduit. Y’know, it feels like stereotyping,” 
“Jean. It’s three plates.” 
I hadn’t considered how hard draining might be; here, all I had to do was turn on the tap, but Dad and Brent had to rush off to find something. Or, at least, Brent did — I wasn’t sure which power Dad had right now. What if there was a situation where I couldn’t find water? Or Brent couldn’t find a good source of steel? Once we bled the power dry, was that really it? Could we not do anything else? 
They came back eventually, laughing at some shared joke I wasn’t privy to. “You good?” Dad asked me, and I nodded. “Good, okay. Let’s decorate the tree,” 
Brent caught on first. “Wait — like, with our powers?” 
Dad nodded. “Yeah, why not?” He turned, heading towards the tree in the corner and adding, “I don’t have anything else anyways, so,” 
It was…awkward, at first. Brent apparently didn’t know how to make a snowflake, which came out with a first attempt that looked as if a ninja star was run over by a train. Dad had to pull up pictures of snowflakes on his phone before Brent could attempt again, and even then, it still took a few times. “I don’t understand,” I began, “You want to create buildings but can’t even make a snowflake?” 
“Shut up,” he muttered, trying again. 
But he got it! And now that he did, he was confident enough to make a bunch of different shaped ones. Then came him and Dad geeking out, beginning their fandom ornaments of Death Stars and Pokémon and other show trinkets. 
Dorks. 
Dad had a giant pack of rubber bands he found in the master bedroom he used to begin hanging them up, Brent and I joining him. But where he had Brent stop with making ornaments wasn’t nearly enough to fill out the tree; it still looked absolutely sparse, like a Charlie Brown tree only somehow more disappointing. 
Then Dad turned to me, and said, “Your turn, Jeanie.” 
Apparently, I’d be creating the ball ornaments — only they’d be perfect little spheres of water, levitating against the tree. “Dad, I don’t know if I can make them stay,” I warned. 
“Usually they do, but if they don’t, we can just scrub the carpet dry,” he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. 
And I mean, I guess it wasn’t. 
So I let my arms slip into their water gauntlets, pushing the sleeves down into my hands and cutting it off from the rest, leaving a little pool levitating in my hands. “Like a snowball,” Brent offhandedly said somewhere on my right, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to roll my eyes or snort. 
He kinda had a point too, though; so I pushed the puddle in my hands together, not needing to touch it to force the water to follow my will and round out. “Now just place it somewhere on the tree, and let go,” Dad coached gently. 
I sort of pushed the orb of water towards the tree, knowing it’d at least stay levitating while I had control over it. It’s when I’d let go that I was worried about. But like Dad said, it isn’t a big deal, right? If it dropped, we’d just scrub it up out of the floor. Easy fix. 
I pushed the orb till it was flush against the tree but not being stabbed into by the needles, hanging in one of the open gaps the rows made. One hand came down, the gauntlet disappearing, and the orb jiggled like jello. “Easy…” Dad drew out. 
I stared at the water, finding a confidence deep within me. You will stay, I thought hard, hand tensing slightly like I was force choking the ball. It bubbled in response, some sort of garbled promise it’d listen, and I let go. 
The orb jiggled again with the sudden release of my control, but it didn’t fall. Stayed slowly spinning in on itself, bubbles rising up and giving it a foamy top. “I knew you could do it, Jean,” Dad said, eyes full of pride when I glanced at him. “Stick some more up there,” 
It became a game at some point, Brent moving to stand in front of the tree and dodging the little orbs I slung his way before pinning them in place around the tree. One hit him in the crotch and Dad and I laughed till we couldn’t breathe as Brent breathed through the pain. “Okay—“ he wheezed, standing from his doubled-over stance. “Okay, how about you two get changed into pajamas? I’ve gotta grab something.” 
Dad vanished into the master, Brent glaring at me with his wet lap. “You look like you pissed yourself,” I chuckled, walking away. He didn’t have much of a retort — just repeated my words mockingly. 
We changed, Brent taking a moment to move his stuff downstairs and leaving me the nursery — not that I was upset about that. I kinda didn’t want to leave it at all. We appeared in the hall at the same time just as a loud thunk sounded from Dad’s room, followed by a hearty crash. “Dad?” Brent called out.
There was no debating it — we were already headed to the door, Brent throwing it open with a little too much force. The room was still pitch black save for the light from the open door, illuminating a mountain of boxes that had tumbled on Dad, who was trying to balance a few in his arms. “I uh,” he began, corner of a box in his mouth, “I shouldn’t have done this without a flashlight,” 
“I’ll get your phone,” I said, rolling my eyes. 
We tried to reorganize the pile by the phone’s spotlight, Brent eventually muttering something about how this was stupid and going to try and find a lightbulb. Dad and I were in the middle of cardboard Jenga when Brent returned, saying, “I took it from that hall closet,” he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “The hall has a light already, there’s no need for it.” 
After another hilarious fifteen minutes of more box Tetris and Dad trying to balance me on his shoulders (“You can’t use your powers, electricity and water don’t mix,” Dad said), the bulb was in, Brent flipping the switch as Dad put me down. 
Now that the room was properly lit up, I could see beyond the boxes; there were dozens of little neon signs propped up against the wall or still bolted to it, hidden by the darkness the blackout curtains encouraged even during the day. “Were these for Mom?” Brent asked, looking at one of angel wings against a long dresser. 
Dad nodded. “Yeah, figured we needed to keep them around to drain. I let her decorate this room however she wanted and let me tell you,” he plugged in what looked like a custom one, ‘Fetch’ in pink cursive, “It looked like a nightclub in here.” 
He gave the light this meaningful look, somehow making me feel like I was intruding on a personal moment. Like he was saying goodbye to someone for the last time, or a hello to someone he hadn’t seen in eons. Y’know, if melancholy had a sibling that was constantly riddled with grief — that’d be what his face was right now. 
He looked down at his feet a moment, steadying his breathing. When he lifted his head again, his right hand came up too. 
And he reached out and drained the neon. 
The sound it made as the neon bled from the sign was weird, almost like the dying chirp of an electronic bird. The pink stretched out in bright ribbons to meet Dad, twisting around his arm in a glaring fury as if it missed him. It kissed his skin, seeping away, leaving Brent and I to stare at his arm as it fell to his side. Dad turned, a sad smile on his face. “Every tree needs lights, right?” 
We were much more placated when we followed Dad back into the living room, watching him as he pulled the tree away from the wall a bit more before he summoned the neon back, wisps of blue and pink just like in the nursery gathering into a tight ball in his hand and pulsating with power. It was so beautiful, so powerful. He pushed his hands in as if to tighten it a bit more before throwing the neon ball up in the air like he was tossing a tennis ball, the ball arching a bit before exploding. 
The little candle flames of pink and blue fell, gluing themselves to needle ends or dissolving in my water orbs. We didn’t move as they fell and stayed in place long after they settled, dead quiet in some sort of moment of silence. The tree had a soft glow to it, the pink and blue bouncing off of the water and steel ornaments and casting colorful reflections on the paneled walls. 
“I think that’s good,” Dad finally said, giving us a gentle smile. “It looks good.” 
Soon came the hardest part; Dad preparing to leave. We emptied out one of the duffle bags with its price tag still attached, and followed him into the room as he rooted through old clothes still hanging up in the closet, stiff and a little weird smelling. “You both can take anything from in here, too. I know you don’t have many clothes right now,” Dad said, shoving a shirt in the bag without giving it the respect of being folded. “They’re my old clothes or Reggie’s, so Jean, it’ll be huge on you.” 
“It’s okay,” I shrugged, already zeroing in on a nice blue flannel to steal. “I like oversized sweaters,”
We meandered back to the living room and watched him gather things, pull on his skin-saving layers and trade out the leather coat for a way comfier looking light gray hoodie. He hesitated after that, looking at the jean vest laid on the arm of the couch before reaching out to grab it, lifting it up and contemplating it a moment longer before pulling it on. 
Dad shuffled the layerings around, pulling the hood out from under the vest and facing us again. “How do I look?” He asked, a bit offhandedly, a bit like he was genuinely worried about his appearance. 
I felt like an idiot; how did I never see it before? Were the monkey suits pulling the wool over my eyes that well, or was I just blind? Because with the gray beanie and vest, all casual wear — it was him. Older, wiser, a bit more wrinkled. But there was no doubt in my mind. “Like Delsin Rowe,” I breathed, the actual reality of it all smacking me in the face. 
The streetlights barely illuminated the driveway, all the light that made our faces disconcernable from the dark being the blue lights from the dash. “Okay, you have to be up early tomorrow, you still have those make-up exams,” Dad reminded us, shoving the duffle bag in the back. “Betty’s gonna be here at eight to pick you up. I talked to her about this already, and after she picks you up from the school, she’s gonna take you two to get phones. Jean?” 
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t drown them this time.”
“Sure,” I jabbed my thumb towards Brent. “So long as He-Man doesn’t send his to the moon the next time his football team loses.” 
“Who the hell is He-Man?” Brent asked.
“I’m gonna call as soon as I can. I just ask that you two be careful with who you talk to — there’s no use in hiding but you need to be cautious. Stick to people you already know. Brent, do not contact Tommy. I know you; it’s not worth cursing him out right now.” 
Brent rolled his eyes. “Fine.” 
Dad opened the driver’s door, turning to face us fully. “And stay safe. I’ll be back late Tuesday, okay?” 
I was on Dad first, practically jumping into him to pull him into a tight hug, Dad chuckling a moment before squeezing me right back. “Be careful Dad,” I said, voice muddled by the jean jacket pressing into my mouth. 
“I will be,” he promised. “I’ve done more dangerous stuff than this,” 
I let him go, Brent taking my place almost instantly. They did that weird thing guys do when they hug where they instinctively clap a hand on the other’s back in some sort of show of affection. They parted, Brent coming to stand at my side, and Dad just…looked at us. “I’m proud of you two,” he said, giving us a half smile. “I’ll call you later, okay? I love you.” 
And then he got in the truck…and was gone. 
Every time Dad left…we knew it came with a bit of danger, his job. Bomb threats were the worst of it, but he’s definitely been assaulted a few times by rowdy protesters, or received death threats online. But this felt so different. Different enough that Brent and I didn’t move well after Dad’s truck lights were eaten up by snow, stuck in place by the reality of what was happening. What was going to come. Tomorrow, Delsin Rowe would be back, and who knew what type of bullshit it would bring. 
“C’mon, let’s go inside,” Brent muttered beside me, the first to move. 
I stayed a few seconds longer, looking back towards where Dad disappeared. Yeah, Pandora's box would be opened tomorrow, and I knew things would never be the same. But y’know what? I was also so happy for Dad. He wouldn’t have to keep hiding behind a false name and made-up memories. He wouldn’t have to pull away from getting too involved in fear of risking Brent and I, especially now that if push came to shove, we could protect ourselves. He didn’t have to go back, but he wanted to — and that was heroic. 
“I'm proud of you too, Dad,” I whispered towards Portland, ready for everything to change. No matter what, he’d be there, and we could take on whatever life would throw. 
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aserranopepper · 1 year
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Miraculous Ladybug Season 5 Theories
I'm posting this here too. I haven't met the fandom on here yet but maybe I will. These are just my thoughts so far.
I think Adrien is possibly a sentimonster created because his parents couldn't have children. If you look at the painting, it's the Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I. Her husband paid for that painting to be done of her. She had bad health and dizzy spells from headaches. When she died her husband would bring her flowers everyday in a room filled with paintings. Like how Gabriel always brings his wife flowers. Some people think she's in a coma but I believe she's dead. She'd need a feeding tube to survive that long, which means she'd also need to have a bathroom pan changed regularly if she was still alive. Nathalie's room which was probably Emilie's old room has Egyptian symbols for pregnancy and fertility. If she couldn't have children, she could of tried researching ancient Egyptian spells for fertility and pregnancy. I've seen some videos on this. Gabriel is in alliance with Tomoe, and her technology is probably what's keeping whatevers going on with that coffin to keep his wife preserved. I believe he researched on ancient Egyptian resurrection and the technology is keeping his wife preserved in the coffin. When the power went out, he freaked out because she may start decomposing without it on. Same when he was nervous about the crack in the coffin. If she's decomposed, it'd be gross bringing her back to life... ? I believe when nothing he did or researched worked is when he started akumatizing people.
Adriens only childhood memory of what he wanted was being what his parents wanted him to be. And that was when he was a baby. I believe the theory of him possibly being a sentimonster. And if not, I believe Emilie used an amuk feather in the twin rings. He was created to be perfect and listen to everything they say. He has to obey direct orders, and all Gabriel needs to do is play with his ring, and then Adrien has to do everything the person wearing the ring says. Felix knows this because when he was pretending to be Adrien, he made sure not to listen to Gabriel and only listen to Nathalie when he noticed Nathalie was the one wearing the ring. Gabriel seemed shocked and was rubbing his finger where his ring used to be. I think Felix is a sentimonster because Gabriel threatened him with the snap of his finger. And Felix knows this stuff and stole the ring so Adrien couldn't be controlled by his father.
I believe Gabriel can try to be healed but will likely die from the cataclysm. I believe Nathalie would take care of Adrien but she could possibly die too. I believe Nathalie would rather give Emilie a burial. I believe if those things happened, that Adrien would have to go to London to be with his aunt and cousin because he would be an orphan.
I also believe that part of Tomoe and Gabriel's deal is having Adrien and Kagami date, not super sure why yet, maybe to look good and get richer. But that if he fails in his part of the deal, she'll shut off the electricity keeping his wife preserved.
I believe that there's likely to be a new villian. Someone who knows the Agreste household. I don't know if Felix, Lila, or Chloe, but I believe if Gabriel were to die, someone will take over and use the kwamis to try to destroy Ladybug and Cat Noir. Probably not even for a wish and just for revenge, which sounds alot like Lila. Remember the Hawk Moth of the future isn't Gabriel.
I don't think the Peacock Miraculous was already broken when Emilie got a hold of it. I believe something she did broke it. Because Nathalie when she used it, she got sick and bedridden in a very short amount of time. While Emilie has been around years and only died a year ago.
Though ultimately we'll have to wait for new episodes to come out. Don't mention any spoilers on here if you have seen new episodes or read the bible, these are just my thoughts and theories on this, I have not read the bible because I don't want to spoil it all for myself. I'll wait til new episodes come out but I'm anxious and excited!
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whatsabriard · 2 years
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Watch With Me: Hart to Hart 1x13
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Episode Title: Color Jennifer Dead
Original Airdate: January 7, 1980
Why this One?: The red dress. That's it. That's the whole thing.
Favorite Quote?: They didn't need music in those movies. What movies? You know, the ones where the boy would look at the girl right in the eyes. Like you're looking at me? Yeah, and he'd say I love you. Ahh yes, it's all coming back to me. And the music would swell and they'd start to dance.
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OK, maybe it's not ENTIRELY this red dress but it's made of sequins and fits like a mermaid suit? so even if this was my only reason it would be a good one.
this episode also features jen-in-jeopardy which means protective!jonathan and we don't kinkshame here.
our girl is having a portrait painted of herself in this SKIN TIGHT SHINY DRESS for her husband for the anniversary. the painter is this new and upcoming arteest.
jennifer wants to see it but he says she can't see it until it's done-done.
of course this fool isn't going to charge jennifer for the painting - gonna give it to her as an anniversary gift. I don't get how the people that can absolutely afford to pay always get the freebies.
anyways, there's a weird guy waiting outside in a fancy cruella deville car. I think this guy might have played Eddie Van Blundht senior on the x-files.
I CHECKED THE IMDB AND IT WAS HIM.
anyway, some guy comes in to talk to the artist with two henchmen. One who keeps using one of those weird hand exercise things and Van Blundht Sr.
Senior kills the artist because you know what happens when artists die?
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Money can't buy sense. Why would you bathe a dog in the kitchen. In a bucket. When your dog is sink-sized and you actually do have running water in your house? AESTHETICS?
(but jfc, freeway is cute)
Jonathan promises Jennifer that he will give her no more expensive presents.
Spoiler alert, for their 5th anniversary he gives her a 10carat diamond ring. He wanted to get a carat for every year they were married, but they were "all out" so he got her one she could grow into.
i am not amused by Jonathan's disdainful opinion of grooming parlors.
they're drying the dog on the kitchen counter. I bet that house has 15 bathrooms. Use one of them.
this is an entire scene of them flirting with each other
they find out from the news that the artist died in a drunk driving accident
the artist was a member of AA - he hadn't had a drop of alcohol for five years.
Jennifer wants to go to his apartment to look around.
jonathan wears a super-fly brown leather jacket.
dig his groovy threads, man.
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Artist's girlfriend is in the apartment and talks about how she doesn't believe it was an accident AND all of his artwork is missing.
LOOK. Benihana was a real *thing* in the 1980's. I had my 4th birthday there. That's why they're having a dinner meeting with the cops there, too.
Jennifer speaks perfect japanese.
the lieutenant's girlfriend wants to meet the Harts - she's a big fan.
this weird lady just reached out and petted Jennifer's hair and Jonathan is cracking up.
The shady guys from artist's appt are going through all the art they stole. He has gotten rich killing artists and then selling their newly expensive paintings.
OH NO, Peterson actually sent the portrait of Mrs Hart to the gallery.
The Harts are favorites of the paparazzi. gotta get the picture back so they cops dont' figure out who murdered the artist.
walking around enjoying some ice cream, Jonathan stops to buy Jennifer a single red rose because these mfers are ROMANTIC.
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But lo, they see the painting on the wall of a gallery! What!
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What's that doing there? Let's contact the owner of the gallery and FIND OUT.
They almost get run down at the address of the gallery owner.
And then they sort of accidentally break into his house and stumble on his dead body.
"So you just walked in and discovered the body?" what, like you're surprised?
Lieutenant shows up with his girlfriend and he wants to be dismissive and tell them to leave the cop-work to the cops, but the girlfriend is pitching for the harts.
they end up back at the gallery - they don't want the portrait to disappear! - but guess what. It's already gone.
they have a bit of fisticuffs with the guys who are trying to sell the portrait and i can't believe they couldn't get a more similar looking stunt double for Stefanie.
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For some reason, the fact that Jennifer was in the gallery has made this guy decides she has to die. that's no bueno.
the harts buy tickets to a ball for that night - the ball that the bad guy is throwing.
jonathan is starting to feel his spidey sense tingling about the guy throwing the ball, the artist's former teacher and coincidences.
Anyway, they're going to chase down the private collectors.
Next stop is bad guy's house.
Jonathan never carries business cards or cash. Useless.
this bad guy tells Jennifer to wear something colorful to the party. REMEMBER THIS.
he still wants to kill jennifer, which just seems stupid
my favorite scenes happen in the hart bedroom. coincidence? I just love it when they're getting ready to go out and they're all domestic and shit.
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Who, she asks in all seriousness. Who in the hell wears heels with their towel?
Jonathan, like all other normal human beings, is barefoot.
they're finally putting it together that the paintings will be more valuable now that he's dead.
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It's really not much of a party if your house man isn't also in your bathroom while you're wearing towels. With heels. I guess.
they always to the hollywood costume company for costumes. I feel like I've been there but I would have been no bigger than a junebug so.
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This is it. This is why we've come.
But guess what. At this BeauxArts Ball, everyone else is dressed in black and white. (also "hot stuff" is playing in the background, which is pretty much everything.)
there is a disco ball and confetti falling like snow. Everyone is in masks and partying down. This is the backdrop for the final chase/fight.
Wherein the bad guy plays to assassinate Jennifer since she's in all red and easy to see.
this guy is trying to kill Jennifer with a comically large gun but he accidentally hits a man wearing an actual suit of armor. Of all the luck.
the harts hide in a closet, which has a bunch of paintings all lined up...but the jennifer portrait on an easel with a spotlight. how very convenient.
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More importantly, check out those gams.
Jonathan is dressed as the phantom of the opera, which makes these chase/fight on the catwalk above the party all the more perfect.
with one shot, Jonathan takes the comically large gun and shoots the bad guy off the catwalk. then he rides a rope up to save the girl.
the episode ends with them returning home all worn out.
Jennifer is complaining about her aching feet but I sort of feel like this one is on her. She's been wearing her shoes since her shower and that isn't anyone's fault but hers.
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look at these besotted idiots. JUST LOOK AT THEM.
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jennifer realizes they never got to dance.
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so they start dancing to no music because of course they do
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just go be in love you big dumb idiots i love you sfm.
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midwestdiscontent24 · 2 months
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The great depression
I think im depressed. Yesterday i had the day off and what did i do with my time? I had my breakfast and coffee, wrote an entry on here, masturbated to fill time, then spent the rest of the day in bed, on my phone, playing crossy roads. The only reason i even walked out my front door yesterday was to walk a block and a half up the street to buy a painting from facebook marketplace. Its a section from the painting "birth of venus" and it looks really nice hanging over my desk.
I honestly do think i might need to get back on anti depressants. Or anti anxiety meds. Something to make me feel more normal. Maybe i should start smoking weed, that might chill me out. Theres a dispensary one town over and a weed bakery. I might try those. They can really put weed into anything these days. ive even thought about asking my mom if she wants to get stuff from the bakery and eat them together; i honestly dont think shes ever been high.
I cracked last night and snapped jordan. It was a moment of depressive weakness but i dont really regret it. We snapped back and forth for about 3 hours. Im glad he was at work, otherwise i would have cracked even more and asked him to come over. I shouldnt even be messaging him. He rips my heart out every single time i get my hopes up. I want to be with him so bad and he just wants to fuck. I want to be loved and cherished and seen.
Sometimes i miss my last ex, because it was just easy being with him. I never had doubts about him cheating on me or breaking up with me (at least not until the very very end) It was like a fairy tale. I even drove 3,000 miles to meet his entire extended family. Then he broke up with me a week later to "see what else was out there." I still think that reason is complete bullshit and just a cover up for something else. But dating him was 4 months of bliss. I was happy and i want to feel that kind of love again. I deserve to have that kind of love again.
Sometimes i feel like im meant to be alone. Theres a certain level of comfort i feel in lonliness, i wont deny that. But when im 90 years old and i look back on my life, i dont want to remember endless days where i sat inside and did nothing but go on my phone and watch tv. A house full of my friends is literally a mile down the road and i have yet to call any of them. Granted, its summer so its still miserable being outside, so maybe i'll wait until fall. Plus walking down the main road gives me anxiety. I really do miss them though. For the brief time i was homeless in 2022, i stayed in that house. Theyre nice people, and i love them all so much. I feel bad for not calling them sooner, but i cant fix the past. I dont even know if Kayla is still in town. She likes to travel.
The last time i lived on this side of town i got super depressed too. I talked about it a little bit when i talked about rosy views of the past. I would sit in the shower with the water running for hours, just curled up in a ball or standing away from the shower head, just letting the warm water wash over me.
One time at my last apartment, i was so depressed and unhappy i would watch the same movie twice in a row after work every night before going to bed.
I wish i could just stay curled up in bed all night and not have to go to work or get up to use the bathroom or get up to eat and drink water. I just want to stay in bed with the fan pointed on me while im wrapped up in my comforter.
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sinnershavesoulstoo · 8 months
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I bitch and complain here all the time, but this is from an actual desktop - so it's like Ramble Bitching 2.0. Fast typin', fast thinkin', I don't know what is going to come out of these finger tips today. Because I have a lot of weird energy.
I'm tired and I know that I say I'm tired all the time, but I'm just. Exhausted. I know that nothing happens unless you make it happen, but I try to make it happen all the time and I always come up short.
I don't want to be the person who always talks about how it's not fair, but it's not fair?
I'm not even thirty yet and I feel like my life is already over because I can't afford to live. I live with my mother and my cat. I live in a 30+ year old trailer that is falling apart. We have two bathrooms, but one of them has a rotten floor and we haven't used it since 2016, at least. The other bathroom is through my mom's room, so any time I need to use the toilet or shower I have to go through her room. From where the floor is rotting, the floor in the adjacent room (the computer room) is also starting to rot.
There's a hole in the ceiling in the living room. We don't have actual curtains in any of the rooms except for my mothers room and the living room. I have tapestries hanging off of a rod in my room and this room has nothing. The bedrooms are all half painted because I can't reach the top bits because I'm too short and nobody will lend us a ladder. Underneath our house is a hellscape. There is stuff under there from when my dad lived here and it's all rotten and messed up and if you didn't know where it had come from, or that it was already there - you'd think someone was living under there. And to make it worse, we have a lock on the outside, so it looks like we're trapping someone under there. Which isn't true.
Our pipes are bad. We have plumbing problems all the time. Most recently, the pipe in the well cracked. Now we have dirt in our water, so I can't drink my tap water. I have to buy bottled. Which is dumb because I shouldn't have to buy water if I have water.
We can't wash laundry and take a shower on the same day because our pipes can't handle it. The sink in the kitchen is leaking and I hate doing dishes because they're not mine and I shouldn't have to do them all the time, but mother complains that she's not doing them for the same reason. I use one bowl, one frying pan, one plate, one mixing bowl, and disposable 'silverware'. That's not all that's in the sink? There are a ton of other things that I wouldn't even use. So I don't know why she thinks that it's my problem.
I have my medical billing and coding certificate and I should be able to get a job with that but I'm not even sure I want to because I've been doing webinars for it and I don't know what the fuck is going on. I guess I'm just trying to keep it updated in case something comes along and they're super nice and understanding and want to help me learn.
I have two friends in this world. The guy at work and Meggy. And I feel weird and guilty messaging GAW and Meggy has shit going on and I don't want to bother her. And partially, selfishly, I don't want to text her because I know I'll be roped into her relationship drama and I don't want to be.
It's like everything I do and nothing I do matters all at the same time.
I don't want to feel like I have nothing to live for at this age. I should have at least made more mistakes to get me here, I should have done something to make me feel this bad. But...unfortunately, this is just how it is now. I don't know what it means to be happy anymore? Like. Do I? I smile, I laugh, but it feels superficial. It feels like I'm just doing it because I know what it is, not because I actually feel it.
I want to be better and I want to feel better and I want to do better. Everything happens in its own time, sure. But I'm tired of waiting, but I can't do anything but wait.
And related, unrelated. One of the most annoying things. I don't have a car because I'm poor and have nobody to help me learn how to buy one. There are so many people with so many different opinions on what I should buy and when I should buy. It gets on my nerves when people don't take into account that I don't have enough money for a down payment right now and that I don't want a huge payment - but they're telling me I need to buy a car and I need to buy it now. Because, unless you want to buy me a car - butt out of my life. I hate that so much. Everyone at work knows that my mother drives me to work because I don't have a car. And every single person has an opinion on that.
"You should buy a car", "Don't get a new car", "You're almost 30? Shouldn't you be driving by now?", "You need your independence", "Your mom is going to die one day and what will you do then? The bus doesn't come out this far."
I know all of this. I literally know all of this. I hear it all the time so even if I didn't, you're not the first person to say something to me about it. I wasn't raised with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was raised fighting for my life. Kind of. We've been poor my entire life. I remember going to the flea market to sell stuff because we weren't making it on what jobs my parents had. I remember not having food some days. I remember never being popular or fitting in because I looked poor. I remember once I got my first job and having to help my mom with the bills because she was barely able to pay them before. I remember buying my own cellphone, my own clothes, my own everything. I support myself mostly. But I can't support myself on my own.
Although broken down and trashy, I live in a house that's fully paid off. Which, my grandad paid for, or we wouldn't have it. I can't afford a house in this economy. I can't afford much at all in this economy. The world is a scary place and I have to do it by myself.
For a long time I thought if I could just hold on, someone would see me and like me and want to be nice and good and I could move forward and move in with them and marry them and escape this life. But. I can't. There was Jacob. And he fully believed we were going to be a super long term thing. But...I just wasn't feeling it. I was resentful a lot in the last bit of our relationship. I didn't want to have sex with him and he made me feel guilty about it, so I just did because it was easier that dealing with him pouting. I told him a few times that I just didn't want to anymore and it wasn't really doing anything for me. He never used lube, so it always hurt and always burned. He barely knew how to use a condom and sometimes it would snap because of how forceful he was about putting it on, but he'd still want to. He wasn't physically aggressive about it? But manipulative about it?
Then I thought that Dusty was a good guy. LOL A huge joke on me. I don't even know what the fuck was going on with me at that point in my life. I've blocked most of it out because I don't know if I wanted any of it to happen and it makes me feel weird and self conscious. I went out to dinner with him and I thought that's what might happen, but once we got there I didn't want it anymore. He didn't ask me? He just did. And the entire ride home just felt. Dirty. And thinking back on it. He was just a little fucker. Because I'm remembering this time, after that happened, Jacob and I were 'mending our relationship' (AKA I felt too bad about breaking up with him so I just let him believe nothing was wrong...) and Jacob had gone on break and said he'd be outside, but I needed to get someone to cover me for me to go, and Dusty came up front and I don't remember what happened exactly, but I think he asked me where Jacob was. And he went outside to 'talk' to Jacob. Once I finally got someone to take my position, I was so keyed up and worried about what they were talking about. I went outside and they hadn't really been talking about anything. And I remember Dusty specifically said, "Oh yeah, your girlfriend is a piece of work." And he like...made it a point to remind everyone I was dating Jacob. And Jacob was confused about what happened. And then at the end of the year (this happened in November) I do a memory jar and one of the things I had written was 'fucked dusty' and Jacob saw it. I know he did because he questioned me and I lied my way out of it. I said that's just really bad cursive and it says 'fucking dusty' because of some story I made up about how he was funny. I don't know. And then I was having Dusty come over when I was still dating Jacob under the guise of friendship. Again, you guys have to remember I live with my mother. He would bring me dinner a lot of the time and we would hang out in my room and he would finger me. I sucked him off a couple of times, but it was mostly him doing stuff to me. And him and Jacob became really good friends during all of this. Meanwhile, he's fucking around with the girlfriend and another girl at work. Then he eventually...well. I don't know. He slept with the other girl at work and compared me to her a lot. And I'm not trying to be mean - but she was bigger than I was and that messed me up a lot. Because I have body dysphoria and I'm not actually sure what I look like, but I don't know if I'm fat or not? I wasn't fat at the time. I weighed 140 pounds and didn't wear a bra because my boobs were so small and my stomach wasn't past them if that gives you an idea of how big I was. But when he compared me to her it broke me a little more than it should have. And maybe that was his goal? To break me all the way down? I don't know. He was 19 at the time. I don't know if he would have been that type of person. He always bragging about how smart he was and how he was homeschooled and how his IQ was super high. So maybe he was? Any who - back to what I was saying. He slept with this girl and her super religious family found out about it and then he got roped into proposing to her. I saw the ring. I saw them at work. She eventually told her family that isn't how she wanted to live and she liked someone else and Dusty was just a mistake. So then she ended up getting married to the other guy and has 2 or 3 kids now. But after this entire thing...I don't remember what happened.
I quit? I think I quit my job. Because I was going to school when COVID was first a thing and had to stop going to in person classes - and Dusty would come all the way to my college to eat lunch with me on his hour lunch break. And Jacob would pick me up and I would just pray they wouldn't see each other in the parking lot.
And none of this makes me a bad person, but am I a bad person for missing Dusty more than Jacob?
I dated him for two years and the entire two years I told him we had nothing in common and I constantly questioned why he even liked me. He never had a real answer. I did whatever I did with Dusty for like 6 months. My time line could be off. I'm going to look back through my other blog and see if I can get a better definitive timeline.
On January 9, 2018 - I had been dating Jacob for 3 months. So I started dating him October 7, 2017. I know we dated when I changed jobs because he came there once and it was weird. And I got that job.....in 2019? In June? July? And COVID really started hitting in December here and that's about when we stopped going to classes and did virtual because I remember it happening right before Christmas break. So. When was I doing shit with Dusty? 2018? I deleted all of my messages with him because Jacob was nosey and looked through my phone all the time and I was afraid he'd find them, even though he was in my phone as DJ. Which is a weird thought I hadn't had in a while. And as I'm thinking about it I check my phone to see if it's still in there and it is. I should call him. No. I'm not that dumb. It's been 5 years lol what the fuck was that thought even about right there. It's 4am that's what that thought was. I wish I had kept all of our texts. We truly were friends. We talked on the phone a lot and I cried a lot. I remember when I had broken up with Jacob one time, it was really ugly. He was at my house and I told him and he made it really weird. And he was like, 'Just one more kiss before I leave' and he made me kiss him while he was sobbing on my couch. And he eventually left. It was just fucking weird. And I was so upset about the entire thing. The breaking up, the weirdness, the thought of having to deal with him at work, and him telling people how mean I was to him by breaking up with him - and then Dusty called me. I told him Jacob was coming over and he knew what time he normally left. So he called me to check on me. And I was putting stuff that Jacob had given me in a box and I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. And Dusty asked me what I was doing. I told him I wasn't doing anything. And he said, "I know what you're doing. Just stop. Take a breath. And talk to me." And I did. And it helped. And we talked all night. Jacob usually left around 10:30 and I had to work the next day and I don't remember going to bed, but I did and I fell asleep on the phone and when I woke up he was still there. He brought me breakfast that day. Off the clock. He just dropped it off for me and left.
As Teenage Dirtbag starts playing.
I'm older than he is by the way. Both of them. Jacob was 2 years younger than me and Dusty...was? 18/19. And I was. 23/24? At the time. I've always felt weird about that as well. How did I let someone who was 6 years younger than me make me feel so bad and manipulate me into weird shit.
What's he like now? He's 23/24 now. Crazy. Is he still a dirtbag? Is he a normal adult? He has no reason to remember me or anything that happened, but does he? If he saw me out in public, would he recognize me? I really do look like that other girl now. I've gained a lot of weight since I worked with him.
lol I was just talking to GAW about how some times I just really feel like I want to cry but I can't because I'm always doing something that needs non-tear filled eyes. Who knew that it would take me admitting that I miss Dusty and I miss him more than Jacob that would make this happen. I mean, literally. It's been half a decade. I guess I have the pleasure of knowing that next year it'll be the seven years that it takes for a body's cells to fully regenerate. But until then, I guess I'm stuck holding onto every last cell that remembers him.
I should just let laying dogs lie. I decided to look back through some old posts and now I'm sad. I reread about the time I was in the freezer and got groped and how E responded to me. And now I miss her. Most of the time I don't even think about her anymore. But deep down, I miss her a lot. We were friends for nearly 10 years. This year would have been ten. And I think we just grew apart. But that doesn't make it easier.
What is my problem? I am? Something. I'm not running people off, they're just leaving in their due time.
I've made myself more sad because I looked up all of my posts with any similar tags to the ones I would have used and there were some. My favorite (most detrimental) was the one where I quoted Dusty saying, "I'd take you home and keep you forever if I could" - he said this when I was crying one day. And I thought it was sweet.
I want to get off of the Dusty train now. So one last lil blep. How do I get over this? He wasn't nice or good in the end, but I remember him for the good he did. And it makes me sad, but I don't want to associate the good parts with the bad parts, but maybe that's the problem. I need to see both and then I'll be over it?
Why do you guys think I don't like myself?
I complain here all the time, you'd assume you would have some opinions on it. I need to work on my confidence and I do really need to get a car. I'm working on it. A lot of tarot readings I've been getting lately have been mentioning getting a car in March and big changes happening in March. But? I don't know what it could be alluding to. Because I'm not going to have that kind of money by then.
I've been looking into the 'I am' method of manifesting. I forget what it's called. But I watched a video about this man saying he wished he were somewhere else and a friend of his told him to say 'I am there' - and eventually he ended up there.
I need to love myself and I need to get over myself. I am enough and I am good and I am lovable. I am.
It's 5am now and I've honestly been coming and going on this post since after 10pm. I've had to take a few cry breaks and a pizza break. So I'm going to go to bed because I have a lot of shit to do today and I think I should get some sleep.
This is about the length of an extremely concise novella. If any of you read all of this - cool. Thanks. I love you.
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scarletjess · 2 years
Text
A Little Out of The Ordinary
Peter looked round his room, now coloured by the blue twilight sky. Dark shadows coved the crevices of objects, casting the clothed scattered around his floor in stark relief. They oozed nothing. Content to stay within the borders the light created.
A half torn down poster lined the wall, several others lay rolled up in a pile next to the bin. The only hint, at where they used to be, was a slight discolouration on the wall, the paint was brighter there.
The doorknob didn’t match the one on the other side, or the rest of the apartment. Silver instead of gold. Five cracks in the shape of a crescent moon sat on the opposite wall. He always used to hope May and Ben wouldn’t notice. He didn’t think he would mind now. He remembers how they where made;
ooO0Ooo
Peter woke up to sound of an alarm clock, and car horns, and the neighbours two floors down having an argument… It was loud, too loud.
He reached out to shut off the small box. Crunch. Peter sat up to find the clock completely shattered into pieces.
“What?” He murmured. He was way too tired to deal with this right now. I was sick last night and…
Wait, why was he sick? Was it something from the lab?
…or the spider that bit him.
The spider from a lab.
An experimental spider from a radiation testing la-
Ok. No. He has definitely been reading too many comics.
Peter swung his legs round to sit on his bed, and then tried to get up. Emphasis on tried. Because when Peter went to perform the act of standing, he found himself stuck to the bedsheets, and no amount of pulling would free his limbs. He fell to the floor with a thud. “Peter are you all right?” May’s voice came from the kitchen. Ben must already be at work. “Uh, yeah. Just fell.”
“Ok, just be careful. Oh, and hurry up, you’re going to be late.” “Yup, on my way.” Peter doesn’t know why he lied, just that having a conversation with May about the ‘maybe-Spider-related-super-powers’ he seems to have gained might be really awkward. Except it wouldn’t be, because there are no superpowers and Peter is totally making this up in his head, right?
He realises that the bed sheets had fallen to his feet during the conversation. Must have been keeping them up by struggling.
Taking a breath, Peter made his way towards the door so he could get to the bathroom. The doorknob crinkled like tin foil beneath his grasp. His hand attempted to let go in shock, but it was stuck. Again.
So the doorknob simply came with him as he backed away from the door, waving his hand frantically, trying to free himself. “Peter!”
“Coming!”
With one finally yank of his arm through the air the doorknob flew free, hitting the table, then the chair and then Peter’s face.
“Ow.”
He stubbled backwards and into the wall behind him, hands first. He was stuck. Again. Peter didn’t even bother trying to pull his hand off, managing to sink to the floor without moving them. Which definitely shouldn’t be possible, but might as well add freaky flexibility to the list.
Sunlight streamed through his window, and he could see each individual speck of dust resting upon the sun beam. It coated his room in yellow.
Bad things always seemed to happen on sunny days. Peter couldn't remember the day his parents died, but he could remember the battle of New York. He always used to think that their death must have been like that, burning with sunlight and chaos. Looking back, now, he doubts it was. He remembers hiding under the tables waiting to die, waiting to be saved.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, not to him. Not when he was always the one hiding. But alarm clocks don’t just break, and door handles don’t crush beneath normal people’s grip. His body felt different too, the muscles on his arms where more defined, bigger. He was too scared to look anywhere else. People don’t just change like that. Peter wasn’t the boy he was yesterday.
The gold from the window scattered across the posters on his wall, Iron Man stared back at him. Tony Stark, the man with no powers, no motive, who suddenly decided his brain was enough to save the world. How could Peter sit here when Tony Stark was a superhero.
Peter had to help people. He didn’t have a choice. He never had a choice. Things always happened to him, like his parents, like moving in the Ben and May, like his scholarship. His brain had never felt like an accomplishment, more a result of him existing. Maybe he could actually do something good with this, rather than selfish. Everything else had been for himself. He could do something with this. He had to. And with that, one of Peter’s hands let go of the wall. “Peter! We have to go. I have work!” “You go on without me. I don’t think I’ll be ready in time. Sorry.” “Really?” “Yeah, sorry. It won’t happen again. I’ll be on time tomorrow.”
A deep breath, and Peter pulled his other hand from the wall. Chunks came with him. “Shit.”
“What was that?”
“Uh, nothing! Just dropped something.” “Ok then.”
The jingle of keys. “Bye Peter!” “Bye!”
Peter waited for the sound of the door closing and looked to the ceiling. One hand after another as he climbed. Just like walking, or it felt like walking.
And he just hung there, as if gravity didn’t exist.
“Whoa, cool.”
oooO0Oooo
Now, when Peter couldn't leave his room, it wasn't his powers that kept him there. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. He couldn't. It was the weight in his chest that kept him chained to his bed. Greif embedded in him like shackles. No powers. No Ben. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't save him. It was his fault. Ben was gone and it was all his fault.
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kookieswan · 2 years
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Shades of Us III – Mint
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Poly!Namgi x Reader (f)
Word Count: 2.4k
Tags: College!AU, Fluff, Humor (semi-crack), Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Frenemies to Lovers, Namjoon is cluelessly adorable, Yoongi’s shy, MC is going with the flow.
Notes: The third part of SoU, moving in hehe. I left a picture of the general layout of the apartment at the end of this part! Let me know what you all think, I appreciate feedback!
Part of the Shades of Us Series!
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Glancing up from the sink, you let out a small sigh at the sight of yourself staring back. It’s finals week, and you look a little sleepy, a little insane. Patting a towel against your face to dry it off, there’s a little ding from your bedroom, most likely the boys telling you that they’re here finally.
It’s been about a month since the guys said they’d move in, and you still can’t believe that they even wanted to. The apartment is nothing special, definitely on the smaller side, but they agreed anyway. Both of them even stopped by to check the place out, measure it up, all that shit. Of course, they’d both been around to just hang out, but still.
The layout of the apartment is alright in your opinion, not the best but it’s what’s affordable. Three bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a super small balcony (which is where you keep many of your plants). Most of the walls are white, and most of the flooring is wooden, although you have a few decorations and rugs scattered around for a pop of color. Speaking of pops of color…
The only fight that Yoongi put up was with the fact that his room is painted a very light green color courtesy of your previous roommate. As much as he didn’t like the shade, he enjoyed the view from the room the most… which consisted of a tree completely blocking out the sun. Perfect for him to be fair.
Wandering out of the bathroom and over to your bedroom, you pick up the phone off your dresser and check the messages quickly. It’s Joon letting you know that he and Yoongi arrived and are starting to unload downstairs. It’s still hilarious that they decided to make this a team effort to you. Something tells you Namjoon had to work some magic to convince the other man that it was a good idea.
The two decided to move in on the same day to get it over and done with quickly most likely, but that came at a price. They rented one truck that Yoongi drove to his place and then Joon’s, and then to top it off he stayed the night at Namjoon’s. You can only imagine how that went. You had tried to help but they insisted that it was fine since you had a final yesterday.
Kicking on some sandals, you unlock the front door, walk down the hall, and practically skip down the stairs. Stepping through the main entrance, you push a rock up against the door to keep it propped open so that moving everything will be s little less work. Spotting the truck and then Yoongi isn’t a challenge, he’s dressed up like a black hole that’s attempting to wiggle out a box that seems to be stuck in the back seat. How adorable.
“How was sleeping over at Joon’s last night?” The man pauses and turns back to look at you as you approach, the bags under his eyes immediately noticeable and a tiny bit unsettling. You’ll take that as a “not good.”
“A fucking nightmare. He snored so loud I thought the world might actually end from the vibrations causing a tsunami.” You snort loudly at the comparison as Namjoon wanders around the corner of the truck, two large boxes balanced in his arms. Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem playful but almost sheepish.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been so stressed out about making sure that the track for my final is perfect…” This makes Yoongi pause, a flicker of something coming across his face before he clears his throat. There’s a best of silence and then…
“… It’s alright Joon, don’t worry about it. I was just joking.” You attempt to try to take a box from Joon but he won’t allow it, backing away before a big grin splits onto his face. As always, he looks absolutely adorable with his pretty dimples. There’s something poking out of the top, cloth maybe? It’s a pretty minty sage color of green, maybe a shirt…
“I know Kitty, I was just kidding. NOW! Let’s start moving stuff inside, hm?” Yoongi’s mouth drops open before he starts to grumble as you continue to giggle at their antics. Rounding the side of the truck, you peer into the back. Their beds seem to be packed up inside along with a good few boxes. Grabbing a random one that says “YOONGIS SHIT”, you start to carry it inside along with Joon.
“There’s not as much as I thought there would be…” Namjoon hums in front of you, starting up the stairs without issue. You follow suit, making sure to be very cautious of not dropping any of Yoongi’s things. There’s got to be music and art equipment scattered throughout the boxes and you won’t be responsible for paying for it. The shit is pricy.
“I lived in the dorms so there wasn’t much to bring with. the bulk of it is probably the bigger things like our beds and equipment. Nothing too insane.”  A blessing and a curse to live in the dorms. Yoongi was in an apartment as well, but he doesn’t seem o have a whole lot either.
Thankfully, your roommates had left a majority of the furniture behind, the only thing you’re really missing is a couch for the living room and a table and chairs for eating. Nothing too important in the end, the floor always makes a good table. Now to unload for the next few hours…
Getting to your front door, you balance the box carefully in one arm and twist the handle with your free hand. The bare living room glares back at you, sad and lonely without much furniture. Stepping in, Namjoon follows suit and immediately walks toward his new room. You’ll never admit it, but you’re very glad that his snoring ass will be in the farthest room from yours.
Walking to Yoongi’s room, you open the door and set the box down on the carpet right inside of the doorway. The sheer number of dark colors he’s sure to scatter everywhere will probably offset the room, and you’re a tad bit curious to see how it ends up. Same with Namjoon’s room, you had never managed to see either of them.
Stepping back out, you see Namjoon going to step out and jog to catch up. He waits patiently, opening the front door and head turning for you to go first. Just as he’s about to shut the door, there’s a loud crash from the stairway.
“I fucking hate stairs, fuck!” Namjoons sprinting past you before you can even comprehend, and then it hits you. Yoongi fell down the fucking stairs holy shit. You run to catch up, peering down to see the poor guy at the bottom laying flat with a few boxes surrounding him on the ground.
“Yoongi, are you okay?! Does anything hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?” Namjoon crouches over the man as you step down the stairs, arm holding him up slightly, and you come around the other side to get a better view. He looks okay, but that doesn’t mean much…
“Negative two, now let me up you doofus.” Namjoon actually huffs a bit before flicking Yoongi on the forehead lightly. He glanced to you for help but you just shrug, noting that he mouths something along the lines of ‘betrayer’ but not caring.
“Oh, I’m the doofus? I don’t recall falling down the stairs like a certain clumsy kitten.” Yoongi turns the brightest shade of red you’ve ever seen, ears even lighting up with the color. He goes to stand up, Namjoon standing with him for support, but winces and falls back slightly against the tallers chest.
“Nam- What are you doing?!” Namjoon takes this as an invitation apparently and hefts Yoongi up into his arms like a blushing bride, holding him protectively like a damn knight. A short cackle leaves you at the look on Yoongi’s face, an odd mix between panic and wanting to die.
“I think you should rest for a bit and we can get back to it. You can just sit on the truck and relax. Don’t you think so too, cutie?” He addresses you and it’s your turn to fluster, muttering out a yes as Yoongi starts to loudly protest. Namjoon doesn’t listen, easily carrying the other man toward the entrance. Namjoon… is a menace. Breathing in deeply, you follow them outside, prepared to endure this for the rest of today… and the foreseeable future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
After the small rest for Yoon and getting everything into the correct place, you and the guys decided to order pizza for dinner for something quick. Gathering around the tv on the floor, you all eat and idly watch a crime documentary as the sluggishness starts to slowly seep in. Yoongi had an ice pack on his foot, forced there by Joon, but he seems to be doing better overall. Humming a bit, you look toward the other two, catching Namjoon’s eye as he finishes a sip of soda.
“So how is everyone doing with their finals? Good?” You grin, somewhat pleased with how finals have been going. Yoongi doesn’t seem the most talkative right now though, so you take the lead.
“Mhm! My final yesterday went super well, I think. I have one more Monday and then I’m done.” Done for the semester, ready for summer. Almost four whole months of freedom from schoolwork and asshole professors. Namjoon nods, pretty dimples appearing as he looks at you with shining eyes.
“That’s amazing! Good job ____, I’m so proud of you for getting through it.” Heating up, you mumble out a thanks at the praise. The man really doesn’t realize what he does to people sometimes, does he…
“What about you Yoongi? Your track all finished up?” Said man stops chewing, cheeks puffed out slightly before he swallows his bite of pizza. His hair looks adorable, black bangs falling into his eyes as he clears his throat.
“Yeah… I just have the final Tuesday with you and then I’m done. My tracks ready to go.” As someone who isn’t involved in music, you can’t help but to be curious. You know they’re both really good after hearing their tracks in the past, but they’ve been super secretive about their final projects.
“You going to give me a little sneak peak of it kitty cat?” Yoongi scoffs loudly, eyes narrowing as he glares at Namjoon. Like always, Joon just smiles back, glasses slowly sliding down his nose.
“Tch, in your dream’s you giant marshmallow…” The taler man actually chuckles at that, eyes crinkling at the corners and Yoongi looks away and grumbles some more. He really does resemble a cat sometimes…
Mind wandering, you realize that there hasn’t really been any talk about how thing spelt around here. Bills and such have already been discussed, but chores and shit haven’t been. Adjusting yourself, you clap your hands against your thighs to get the others attention.
“Time to talk about rules! To start, everyone should wash their own dishes if able. Also, garbage goes out on Wednesday nights because they pick it up early Thursday, so make sure to have it ready to go so I can take it out.” You’re not sure how but you ended up on garbage duty. It’s disgusting but hey, at least you never had to clean the toilet.
“I can take the garbage out if you want! I used to vacuum my dorm room every weekend so I can do that too.” And just like that you’re in love with Namjoon. Beautiful, stunning, handsome Namjoon who’s going to take out the garbage for you. What a sexy man.
“… I like to cook. I could make us dinner some nights and do some of the grocery shopping.” Both you and Joon leer over at Yoongi, surprised to say the least. He doesn’t really seem like the cooking type, but either way, you’re excited for som yummy meals. However…
“I like grocery shopping too! Late night though when no one’s around… I like to look at things in peace.” Shopping at night is always the best, no one can convince you otherwise. Namjoon seems to agree, nodding along with what you say.
“We should all go then. Late night grocery excursions can be a group activity! Wouldn’t you like that Yoongo Boongo?” It’s probably a recipe to get kicked out with how rambunctious they can get with one another. You’ll just pretend not to know them.
“Meh.” Namjoon reached across you to poke the smaller man’s thigh, Yoong twitching a bit before trying to bat him away. This is the life, there’s nothing like having a large man crawl over you to harass a cute small man.
“How about we all go tomorrow night? My final isn’t till two on Monday so I can stay up later.” Thank god for that. You need to do some grocery shopping anyway; the fridge is practically empty since you’ve been so busy. Namjoon perks up a bit before agreeing as Yoongi listens quietly.
“Sounds like a plan then! I’m going to head to bed though, I’m pretty tired after today. You should both head to bed too, you look exhausted… Not in a bad way! You’re both adorable but seriously.” He’s trying to kill you. He must be. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see Yoongi’s cheeks turn the slightest tone of pink as he mutters out a reply.
“Yeah, yeah… If you don’t see me in the morning, I’m not dead, just sleeping. Bother me and I’ll bite you.” With that, Yoongi grabs the paper plates you we’re eating from and raises from his spot to head toward the kitchen. You and Namjoon watch in as he stumbled around, clearly ready to fall into his bed.
“He really is a feisty little thing huh? Hmm, I’ll see you in the morning, and I promise I won’t bite you.” Watching Namjoon get up from the floor, you sit back and watch quietly as both men interact quietly before Joon walks toward the bathroom. Things… Are definitely going to be interesting.
“Goodnight losers!”
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Feast your eyes upon my artistic skills! Note that the scale isn’t exact but kind of close? Idk I think it’s fine 🥴❤️
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
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Always You | JJK (Nine-pt1) (Final)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama
Word Count: 13.6k
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, protected sex, jealous!oc, sensual touching, dry humping, oral (female rec.) face riding
Notes: The end is finally here! But no worries I will most likely do drabbles for you guys:) Thank you SO much for reading this story and sending so many loving comments. Enjoy this last chapter of ‘Always You’ and feel free to send me an ask to chat about the story, I LOVE talking with ya’ll!
Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @hsneptune @betysotelo18 @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @bunnyjeonjk @surfacesanity @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19 @hardcarrykookie @fancycollectormoon
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous ---Next
~~~~~~~~~
December
Jungkook stares into his bathroom mirror and sees and feels nothing, absolutely nothing. He looks into his eyes and see nothing behind them. He tries to smile, but falls short. Does this have anything to do with the fact he told you he loves you but you completely misunderstood him? Yup, it probably has everything to do with that.
But Jungkook also feels like shit. He let his feelings become too overwhelming in the moment that he totally and completely forgot he has a girlfriend. So, he is almost glad that you most definitely thought he was just telling you he loves you like one normal friend to another instead of him confessing his deep and passionate feelings towards you. Yup, totally glad.
So, now he looks into the mirror and actually does see and feel something: Shame. Guilt.
And regret. Regret is written all over his face. Not regret because he told you he loves you, no. Regret that he didn’t tell you 4 years ago how he feels. Even if you didn’t feel the same he thinks he should have had the courage, instead he slept with you like a fucking idiot. But that is something he can’t get himself to regret at all…he just can’t regret that amazing night he shared with you.
“Bro! You have been in there for like ever dude, I gotta take a piss!” Jungkook hears Nick from the other side of the door, his insistent banging going completely ignored by Jungkook.
“Seriously man, I will pee in the fucking sink!” Nick threatens and Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah man, I’m coming.” He looks into the mirror one last time before taking one deep breath and turning towards the bathroom door.
“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jungkook says as he opens the door with Nick already pushing past him.
“Fucking finally!” Nick doesn’t even bother to shut the door behind him as he quickly approaches the toilet to release himself.
Jungkook walks into his room and pulls out his phone as he sits on the edge of his bed. He goes through his message threads, his fingers hovering over your name when he gets to you.
It’s been a few weeks since the trip to your parent’s house. He had such an amazing time. That Saturday your mom cooked one of her famous homemade meals…something Jungkook hasn’t really had in years. Your dad would casually slip in the word ‘son’ in conversation, making Jungkook’s heart glow. You laughed and talked and cried and just looked so at home the entire time, like all your worries were vanishing.
He knows you’re struggling with what to do…but going abroad? Were you serious? You mentioned it to your parents too while there visiting and they loved the idea…making Jungkook’s heart sink. They just encouraged you more while you were there…telling you it was such a fun, and great idea and that it totally suits you. This only made you feel more motivated…Jungkook could see that.
Jungkook wants nothing but the best for you…he just wants you to be happy. Your happiness is his happiness but how could he survive if you left? How could he go a day without seeing you? Or worse…a week? A month? A whole fucking year? He went three months without you and he spiraled pretty bad.
Jungkook continues to sit here, his fingers right over your name and he clicks it.
Jungkook 8:14pm
I have a cold beer with your name on it
y/n 8:21pm
:( I cant hang tonight, sorry boo…im hanging with yoongs and tae. You can come by if youd like to?
Jungkook 8:22pm
No no its okay, you have fun :))
Jungkook brings his phone to his chest, right over his beating heart and he sighs out in frustration. Why can’t everything just be easy? Why is everything so complicated?
~~~~~~~
“And I will be the youngest curator they’ve ever had at this museum!” Tae finishes proudly, cheering his wine glass with yours and Yoongi’s.
“That’s so amazing Tae.” You bring your glass back to your mouth and take a gulp in his honor.
“Proud of you, kid.” Yoongi smiles fondly at Taehyung and you can’t help but also feel very proud. Taehyung got offered the main curator position at the museum of art downtown and you three are at the record shops cozy corner celebrating.
“Anything else new going on?” Taehyung asks, he eyes both you and Yoongi. “Like, any new love interests? Job offers? Juicy drama? Literally anything.”
“Nothing from me.” You laugh, you and Taehyung look over at Yoongi who is sipping his wine with the biggest blush painted on his cheeks.
“Yoongi?” you pry. “Did something new happen with you?”
“Well…I wouldn’t really call it news.” He begins shyly, “But I maybe met someone.”
You and Taehyung share a look of shock and excitement.
“Wait dude, you mean like a romantic interest?” Taehyung asks, setting his glass down on the table.
“Yeah, like you have a crush on someone?” You smile at Yoongi and his blush deepens.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he admits, “But they’re really nice and have been coming in the store every week and we sort of just end up talking…and they asked for my number—”
“This is definitely a romantic interest!” Taehyung basically shouts. “Did you give it?”
“Yes…” Yoongi takes another sip of his wine, his eyes sliding to the side. “Did I mention they’re cute?”
“You in fact, did not mention that.” You say with a grin. “I’m happy for you Yoongs.”
“I think I’ll ask them out, what do you guys think?” Yoongi whispers.
“I think that’s a great idea man!” Taehyung basically shouts again and you laugh.
“I think I really admire you for going for it…” You sigh. You wish you had that kind of courage.
“You know…” Yoongi sets his wine glass down, and turns in his seat to face you, “It takes a lot of bravery to open up to someone…it takes a lot of strength to admit when you’re wrong and to admit when things aren’t going right. It takes real courage to open your heart to someone like, romantically. You’re like, the coolest human being in the world if you can do those things.” Yoongi folds his hands out in front of him, he bites his lip as he thinks.
“y/n…you don’t have to be some sort of super human.”
You tilt your head in confusion…you thought Yoongi was going to a place where he tells you to go for it too.
“You shouldn’t always be the one doing things. Others need to form the courage too. You’re worth it. You’re worth that risk…that you may not feel the same. Trust me, I would know.” He chuckles light heartedly. “I think he will come around.”
“I don’t know about that.” Taehyung cuts in. “I want to believe he will but…” Taehyung looks over at you with pity. “…He’s…” Taehyung doesn’t know what to say without spilling anything so he decides to let the words die on his tongue.
“To be honest with you guys…” You reach for your glass of wine and chug back the remainder of what’s in the glass rather quickly before slamming it back down on the table.
“New Year’s Eve.” You say. “Four years ago. Something happened. Something major, he…”
“Four years ago, New Year’s Eve?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together as he tilts his head. “Wait something happened between you two?” you only nod your head at Taehyung’s question.
“Did Jungkook say what he wanted to say?” Taehyung asks with big eyes, completely shocked, this is news to him. But now it’s your turn to tilt your head in confusion.
“Say what he wants to say? What are you talking about?”
“Huh? Uh,” Taehyung guesses it’s not what he’s thinking. “It’s nothing. So what happened?”
“We slept together.” You blurt out quickly, giving yourself no time to regret it.
You hear Yoongi chuckle from beside you and you snap your head in his direction.
“What? What’s so funny?” you ask.
“You thought I didn’t already assume that? That you two haven’t already slept together?”
“Damn,” you say, “Observant as usual.”
“WAIT WHAT?” Taehyung sputters out, quite fucking loudly.
You guess Taehyung isn’t as observant.
“We got kind of drunk, kissed at midnight and went back to his dorm and you know…”
Realization hits Taehyung hard. When Jungkook was pissed about the fact Taehyung slept with you it wasn’t just because he was some heroic friend. It was also because Jungkook has already had you and he knows he doesn’t like to share. Fuck.
“Holy fuck, y/n.” Taehyung closes his eyes for a moment, “Wait, and you guys didn’t talk about it after? Didn’t he have something to tell you perhaps?”
“What are you talking about? He totally brushed it off. So I got bitter and didn’t talk to him for a month. Now we just…I don’t know, we just…I feel like we are more than friends but less than lovers.”
“Makes total sense.” Yoongi adds, “You two are that but more than anything you two are complete and total idiots.” “Well, that we can agree on.” Taehyung grins.
~~~~~~
It’s the middle of December meaning it’s time to do your Christmas shopping! You, Trina and Holly are at the mall perusing around and trying to find the perfect gifts.
“Let’s do what we always do y/n.” Trina bumps her elbow into your side, with a smile on her face.
“Couldn’t agree more.” You respond.
“And what do you two always do?” Holly asks, feeling a little left out.
“Oh you know, we agree to no presents.” You say, “One less person to stress over, that’s our gift to each other.”
“Wow.” Holly deadpans, “You guys are so lame.”
“Or are we geniuses?” Trina asks with a grin, she walks closer to Holly and links arms with her, “But don’t worry Hol, I am getting you something.”
“Good.” Holly says, a shy smile making its way on her face.
“Me too!” you say trying to include yourself. “What would you like anyway? Just show me and I’ll buy it for you!”
“That takes out all the fun in gift giving.” Holly pouts, “It’s supposed to be a surprise!”
“Ah, fuck.” Trina spits out, “I suck at gift giving. Just tell us what you want.” She whines.
“No!” Holly laughs. “Look, I’ll be back.” She gestures towards her left, “I gotta use the bathroom.” She waves at you and Trina and walks away.
“Dude what am I going to get Holly?” Trina asks you, her frustration as clear as day. “It’s got to be special.” She adds in shyly. Special? Now’s your time to finally ask her what is up with her and Holly.
“Why special?”
“Oh you know.” Trina’s sheepish grin gives her away. “I don’t got to say it, when you know.”
“Fair enough.” You laugh. “Oh!” you point towards the window of one of the stores to your right, “You see those mugs? Let’s go check them out.”
“What why?”
“Christmas gift.” You say simply.
You both walk towards the glass window and eye the mugs, there’s a whole bunch but there’s a mug with music notes all over it and you’re reminded of the record shop and your two friends. You walk inside and grab three of them. Yes, three matching mugs for you, Yoongi and Taehyung. Even though Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee, he can still put whatever beverage he wants inside.
You pay for the mugs and have them wrapped in Christmas paper! You got some of your first gifts done with! Now you need to find something for Jimin, Jungkook, Holly and your parents. Crap, should you get something for the rest of the boys too? You’ll be seeing them on New year’s…maybe you’ll get them all scarves. That’s easy.
Jimin is easy, you know he’s been eyeing this channel necklace for far too long and you happen to be able to afford it for him. Jungkook isn’t easy at all. So you go with something simple, a new pair of chunky black boots that he’s been talking about for months. Your mom gets a necklace with her birth flower and your dad gets tickets to his favorite sports team…cheap tickets, sorry to your dad. Holly loves penguins so you find a cute penguin pin for her purse, you think she will love it.
Shopping takes almost the whole day, you, Trina and Holly are seated in the malls food court sipping on a smoothie.
“I am so freaking tired.” Holly leans her head on Trina’s shoulder as she speaks.
“Me too, girl, me too.” You respond. “But Christmas is soon!”
“Are you guys excited about going home?” you ask.
“Yeah, my parents promised they would take me ice skating like when I was a kid.” Trina chuckles.
“I’m excited too! What about you y/n?” Holly lifts her head from Trina. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
“Going home, of course. I’m bringing Jungkook with me.” You admit with a soft smile, “My mom and dad love him, they practically beg me every week on the phone that I bring him.”
“You guys are such a couple.” Trina rolls her eyes playfully.
“We’re best friends! He doesn’t have parents to spend it with so he’s coming with me, is that such a crime?” you say lightly.
“No, no. Of course not.” Trina rolls her eyes again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys get together during your trip.”
“Need I remind you he has a girlfriend?”
~~~~~~~~
Jungkook slides his dick in and out of Vanessa as she clenches around him, he holds her body up as he fucks her from behind. He’s been at it for a while but…
“I’m going to come!” She moans out, “Please tell me you’re close!”
“I—I” Jungkook tries fucking her faster and harder as she comes undone. But Jungkook is still trying, he’s fucking struggling. He screws his eyes shut and thrusts into Vanessa at a fast and hard rate but nothing is working.
“Sorry…sorry.” Jungkook begins to slow down, “I can’t. I just can’t” He admits, totally defeated. He’s tired. He eventually comes to a stop, and pulls out.
“I’m sorry Vanessa.” He says quietly, “It’s not you, I promise.” His voice is hoarse.
Vanessa stands and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up, when she returns she sees Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his pants back on.
“It’s okay, Jungkookie.” Vanessa’s smooth voice doesn’t waver as she speaks, “It happens.”
Jungkook runs his hands down his tired face before looking up at Vanessa, his eyes slightly watery.
“This isn’t fair for you, I should be able to fucking come.” He grits out. “At the fucking least.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“How are you so calm about this? Hm?”
Vanessa sits on the edge of the bed next to Jungkook, she breathes in and out before raising her head to speak to him.
“He wants to get back together with me, you know.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen at her words. She couldn’t be talking about her ex, could she?
“Vanessa—”
“It’s okay. I said I no. Somehow I feel okay.” She smiles at him, it isn’t one of those coy or secretive smiles she mostly hands out but a real genuine smile.
“I think I just feel good that he wants me again but now I have the upper hand, you know? I’m the one with power.”
“You told him no?”
“And not even because I am supposed to be your girlfriend…but because I decided I need to respect myself. You’re right…what I was doing…it wasn’t healthy.” She admits, she shakes her head to rid herself of her bangs that keep falling in her eyes.
“I…I’m proud of you.”
“I want to be proud of you too.” She whispers.
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” she says quietly, “You’ll see eventually.”
“What does that me—”
“Let’s take a small break.” Vanessa tilts her head to get a quick look at him, “Just until New Year’s.”
“Vanessa—”
“We just need some time to like, miss each other? You know?”
Jungkook shakes his head, “You mean, break up?”
“Just a break. But technically yes, we aren’t together in the meantime.”
“Why?” Jungkook stands up, “We can make this work Vanessa.”
“Please stop.” Vanessa says more sternly. “It’s what I want. Just until New Year’s.”
Jungkook paces back and forth with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t understand why she wants this? Because he couldn’t come? All because of that? He stops pacing to stare at her and she’s already looking up at him with a sickingly sweet smile.
“Fine.” He says. “If that’s—that’s what you want.” He clears his throat and tries smiling for her, she all but nods her head.
~~~~~~~
“You ready?” you ask Jungkook when he walks up to your car. You came to pick him up, insisting that you drive this time.
“Yeah.” Jungkook shows you his bunny grin and you melt, you love that smile of his. He sets his bag in the backseat and walks over to the passenger door and sits down inside.
“I’m excited to spend Christmas with you and your family.”
“Oh, it’s going to be a handful. You’ll be meeting my grandma, some aunts and uncles and some cousins of mine.”
“And I cannot wait.” He repeats. “Do you have my Christmas present here in the car?” he smiles cheekily, “Just give it to me now.”
“Yeah, right. You have to wait until tomorrow dummy!”
“Hey, don’t call me a dummy.” Jungkook pouts. He leans back in the passenger’s seat and closes his eyes.
“Hey, you’re not thinking of taking a nap are you?” You reverse your car out of the parking spot at his apartment.
“Maybe.” Jungkook snickers from beside you, “If you don’t want me falling asleep, tell me something interesting.”
“I think I want to work on getting a TEFL.” You blurt out, “To you know, teach.”
Jungkook’s eyes stay shut as he processes your words, he thinks to himself carefully—he can’t react negatively. He can’t.
“That’s nice, y/n.” He settles for. “You’ll like it.”
“That’s it?” you twist your head to look in his direction, he opens his eyes and stares at you for a few moments.
“Eyes on the road.” Jungkook closes his eyes again.
“Jungkook…you aren’t sad I might be moving away for like, at least a year?” You grip the steering wheel tighter, “You know I would be leaving right?”
“What do you want me to say y/n?” Jungkook opens his eyes and leans forward, “Want me to tell you no? That you aren’t allowed to leave?”
“Well…no. But you could act like you care a little.” You whisper out in pout.
“I do care.” Jungkook huffs, “But I just want you to do whatever makes you happy.”
“You make me happy.”
Jungkook quirks a brow and smiles, “So, you want to do me?”
“Gross,” you reach over and hit his arm. “You know what I mean. I just…I mean I value your opinion.”
Jungkook’s smile begins to fade as he stares at the cars floorboard. He zones out for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say. While it is true he wants you to do whatever makes you happy he also doesn’t want you to go anywhere.
“Do what’s best for you baby.” He all but whispers. “I will believe in you and support you no matter what.”
“I guess I’ll take that for now.” You whine. “How’s work going for you?”
“It’s good.” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “The director is letting me edit some pretty important scenes.” He gushes. “I brought my work stuff so I can show you over the next couple of days.”
“Yeah? That sounds exciting Jungkook!”
You finally merge on the high way for your few hour trip, you got your ‘Chillin’ playlist on and a few snacks on hand. You and Jungkook chit chat every so often but you mostly jam to the music.
“Let’s listen to Disney radio station!” You hand Jungkook your phone, “Hurry, put it.”
Jungkook takes your phone with a grin and selects the Disney option on pandora, the first song to come on is Lion King’s ‘Hakuna Matata’. You and Jungkook sing your hearts out, smiling, giggling and belting out the notes.
A couple hours pass like this, your throat getting admittedly sore. But Jungkook on the other hand is still going strong, he is singing all the parts in ‘Kiss the Girl’ with such passion…you can’t help but chuckle as you listen to him.
“Phew, I am worn out!” you say, laughing. “But I see you can keep going?” you turn the volume down.
“Oh, we can switch it up…but to answer the question you know I can keep going.” He winks. And you know he meant that innocently but you can’t help but blush.
“Right.” You hand him your phone again, “Our trip is almost over…you can just put on a playlist.”
“Are you excited to see your parents again?”
“Well, I just saw them last month…but yes.” You admit, “Being home is always nice. My parents have been bothering me for weeks making sure you are actually coming with me for Christmas.” You chuckle, “They’ll be glad to see you.”
Jungkook grabs a hold of his ears in excitement, you can tell he’s genuinely happy as he sits here and smiles that smile.
“I’m glad to see them too. And I am excited to meet more of your family.”
“There will probably be misunderstandings…but don’t worry, I will make it clear we are just friends.” You nod your head as you speak. Jungkook just shrugs in response, just fucking shrugs.
“Isn’t that your house up there on the corner?” Jungkook points forward towards the house.
“Yup.”
When you pull into the driveway your parents are making their way outside, they smile at you and you wave from inside your car. You turn it off and turn to face Jungkook.
“You ready?”
“Yes.” He grins.
You step out of your car and your mom and dad are rushing to bring you in for a hug, they hold you close and you feel yourself feeling right at home. You begin to pull away and head towards the backseat when your mom grabs your arm,
“You two can get your things later—before bed, before bed.” She guides you towards the house, “And hello, Jungkook.” She smiles widely, “So nice you are here again! Let’s go see everyone!”
“Yes mam.” Jungkook says with a small smile, he walks forward and shakes hands with your dad.
“Nice to see you again, son.”
“Yes sir, you too.”
“Stop being so formal!” you look back at him, teasing. You and your mom walk to the front door, waiting for your dad and Jungkook to catch up.
The four of you enter the house, it smells like pie and cookies and warmth and you know, like Christmas. You hear the chitter chatter of your relatives filling the house and you want to smile. You can hear your cousins gossiping in the kitchen, you hear their children playing in the backyard (The back door is open), you hear your grandma snoring on your dads recliner, while your aunt and uncle quietly talk on the other sofas. You hear what it’s like to feel at home.
“Look who is here, everyone!” Your mom announces obnoxiously. “It’s y/n and Jungkook!”
First your aunt and uncle’s attention are caught, they nod your way with smiles on their faces and you head over to the sofas to hug them each. Your grandma stays snoring on the recliner and you giggle, classic grandma.
Next, your cousins are coming in from kitchen. Three of them to be exact, Daniel and his wife Larissa and your other cousin who is your age Manny. Daniel and Larissa have 3 beautiful children who are playing in the back, you can hear their giggles from inside. Manny is much shorter than you, she’s petite and curvy and really, really pretty. You go in to hug her first, she wraps her arms around you loosely.
“y/n!” she yells excitedly, “It’s been since last Christmas right?!” she asks, still holding on to you.
“Something like that.” You giggle, “Hi Daniel, Larissa.” You go in to hug them as well.
“Guys this is Jungkook.” You finally introduce the awkward boy, he stands here swaying from side to side waiting to meet everyone. He bows his head in greeting and everyone says their hello’s. All except sleeping grandma.
“Well, hello.” Manny smiles at Jungkook, “I didn’t even see you there, which is crazy because you’re like crazy hot—”
“Okay, Manny.” You try cutting in early enough, but are a bit late.
“Oh?” Jungkook eyebrows climb to up his forehead as he looks at Manny.
“I’m Manny.” She winks, “ You must be y/n’s friend, I presume?”
“Uh…”
“y/n!!!!” Your grandma comes up to you all, her sweet perfume filling the air around you. “You’re here, sweetie.”
“Grandma!” you lean in and hug her frail body, she smells like she always has your whole entire life, sweet.
“And this must be your boyfriend, Jungkook? I have heard so much about you, dear.” Your grandmas opens her arms, signaling Jungkook to lean in and hug her—which he does.
“Actually grandma—”
“You finally have a nice boyfriend, your parents have told me all about him.” she winks, “I am so happy for you sweetie, I think I can finally rest easy.”
“Rest easy?” you question, “No grandma you are mis—”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles at your grandma and she cheeses hard.
“You can call me grandma, dear.” She pats his back lovingly, “I want to hear all about you two. Shall we drink some tea together?”
“Boyfriend?” Manny asks, confused. “I didn’t know you guys started dating?”
“We aren’t—”
“Its new.” Jungkook cuts in. He slides his arm around your waist and you audibly gasp.
“What’s new?” Your mom walks up to you all.
“They’re dating.” Manny says, looking unimpressed.
“WHAT! Darling, get in here!” She calls your dad over, “Jungkook and y/n are together, together!”
“No we are—” you try cutting in but you feel Jungkook dig his fingers into your waist.
“THEY’RE TOGETHER?!” Your dad yells out, his excitement clear as day. You stand here confused as hell as your whole family starts congratulating you two.
“Wait, wait.” You try getting out but Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear.
“We can’t disappoint grandma.” He says softly.
~~~~~~
“I met my Roy at a party too.” Your grandma says between sips, she holds her tea in front of her face as she reminisces.
“Was it love at first sight?” Your grandma asks, wiggling her brows. “Me and my Roy didn’t get together for quite some time so I don’t think it was love at first sight for us…when did you know?”
“Grandma…” you begin, “Can we talk about something else?” you beg.
“I knew only a few months later.” Jungkook admits shyly, he smiles at your grandma while bringing his tea cup to his lips. “I knew no one could take y/n’s spot. But I was content with being friends.”
Your eyes grow in size, his confession warming you up. You know it’s all for show but you can’t help what it does to you.
“I also knew after a few months.” You say quietly.
“Oh, how lovely!” Your grandma claps her hands together softly, “And now here you are! Jungkook…” Your grandma sets down her tea cup and looks over at Jungkook. “I trust you will take care of y/n no matter what, right?”
“No matter what.” He says quickly. “She takes care of me too.”
“And how does she do that?” Your grandma raises a drawn on brow.
“She is always there for me…she always tries to understand me even when I am in the wrong…she always tries to get to know me like she doesn’t already know everything,” he chuckles, “She always hugs me when I need it.” Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, “She really loves me and I can feel it.” Then his mouth falls open and his eyes expand a little, “Do you… love me y/n? Like—”
“Okay, that’s enough about us babe,” you cut him off, “When did you get in town grandma?”
“Oh, just last night.” She mumbles, “I—”
“So,” Manny comes into the kitchen, her v neck lower than it was 20 minutes ago, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “What do you do Jungkook?” she leans down into his space, one hand squeezing his bicep as she asks her question.
“Um, I work as an editor for a film company.” His eyes shift to you and you roll your eyes again. “What about you?”
“Oh? Me? I work at a marketing firm. Was hoping to see y/n there.” She smiles at you. “But guess she didn’t apply? Maybe?”
“I didn’t get hired.” You state plainly. “But I didn’t want to work there anyway.” You grip your thigh in annoyance.
“y/n is probably too good for that company anyway.” Jungkook says, his hand reaches for yours and you relax a little bit.
“Right.” Manny nods her head exaggeratedly, “That’s got to be it…” she winks at you and you give a half ass smile.
“So Jungkook…” she finally takes a seat next to him, her hand still on his arm. “Film, huh? That’s soo cool. What do you do in your spare time?” she squeezes his bicep again, “Besides working out, of course.” She laughs.
Jungkook looks at you in panic, his eyes shifting from yours to his arm and you just roll your eyes.
“Manny.” You cut in, “How’s Luis?”
“Oh, we broke up.” She says smiling at Jungkook. “Nothing to worry about it.”
“And what’s to worry about,” you lean over and detach her fingers from Jungkook’s arm. “Hm?”
“Oh nothing.” Manny shakes her head.
“Manny, did you ever take my things out of the drier?” Your grandma speaks up, “Please put them in my room if you haven’t already.”
“Speaking of rooms.” Your mom and dad walk into the kitchen, their hands joined together.
“What?” you ask.
“Grandma is in Jungkook’s room. So Jungkook will have to stay in your room with you.” She says nonchalantly.
“Hm? Okay.” You shrug while Jungkook’s eyes widen just slightly. “Where are aunt and uncle sleeping? And Daniel and the rest? “Oh, we got a hotel.” Manny says, “Which sucks because it would have been fun to have a little slumber party.” She says in pout. You give her a tight smile and nod.
“Sure.” You get out, “Guess it’s just me and Jungkook for the slumber party.” You wink at her and Jungkook laughs as he squeezes your hand.
“Can’t wait baby.”
“Oh, you guys are gross.” Manny gags, “We get it.”
“Yeah, behave.” Your mom gives you a pointed look, “You’re still in your parent’s house.”
“Sorry, sorry. We’re just messing around.” You wave your hand, “Also, I can get your things from the drier grandma, I am going upstairs anyway to change.”
“Thank you sweetie.”
You let go of Jungkook’s hand as you stand up, he looks up at you in panic. You’re leaving him here with Manny?! He’s not stupid, this girl is clearly not caring about the whole boyfriend thing but he doesn’t want to make a scene by saying something to her.
“I’ll go with you.” Jungkook rushes to say earning strange looks from your parents. “Be—because I should bring up our bags from the car.”
“Ah, yes! That’s true, that’s true.” Your mom nods her head in agreeance, “You two go.”
Upstairs is much quieter, Jungkook thinks to himself. Just the background noise of muffled voices and occasional laughter. You two are in your childhood bedroom with both of your bags on your small bed. You are digging through your own luggage when you hear Jungkook clear his voice.
“What’s up?” you don’t look up to see him, you continue digging into your bag for some sleep shorts and a t shirt.
“This bed is tiny.” Jungkook groans, “How are we going to sleep on it?”
“I suppose one of us could make a palette on the flo—”
“—No.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I just mean, you’ll have to sleep super close to me.”
“That doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you suddenly?” you grab the small shorts from your bag and set them on the bed.
“W-What? No…” he admits shyly, his teeth on full display at he smiles at his own bag. “I was just saying.”
“Will Vanessa not like it?” you whisper as you find the t shirt. “Because—”
“Actually we—”
“—ask her?”
“No, it’s fine. Trust me.” Jungkook brings out his own change of clothes and stands here awkwardly, not knowing where to go.
“I do trust you.” You breathe out, “We can just turn around and change.” You offer, already spinning on your heels and lifting your sweater over your head. Jungkook continues to stare at you until he’s hit with realization. He quickly turns around and starts changing as well.
“You sure let Manny touch you however she pleases.” You spit out quietly. Jungkook freezes mid shirt lift, his eyes growing in panic.
“It’s not that I was letting her…I just…I didn’t know what to do…I’m sorry—”
“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes even though he cannot see. “I’m just—it’s my fault. Me and Manny grew up together. The boy she liked in high school liked me…and ever since then she’s always…” you wiggle into your sleep shorts, slipping the material over your ass.
“Oh, I get it.” Jungkook slips on a new t shirt, “I’m done. Are you?”
“Yeah, I am.”
You both turn around, smiling sheepishly at one another. He’s wearing black sweats with a plain white t shirt and you in your sleep shorts you always use to wear around the apartment that use to drive Jungkook wild and one of his black t shirts.
“Hey, that’s mine.” He pouts, pointing at the shirt you’re wearing.
“Mine now.” You poke your tongue out. Jungkook pretends to reach over the bed to grab your tongue which makes you laugh.
“Don’t let Manny touch you again.” You blurt out, “I don’t like it.”
Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he stares at you, he begins walking to the other side of the bed until he’s standing in front of you.
“Why don’t you like it?” he asks softly.
“It’s annoying to look at it.”
“It irritates you to see another girl touch me?”
“It’s irritating when that girl is my cousin.”
“Why does it matter who it is specifically?” Jungkook steps closer to you, he pushes his hands in his sweat pockets.
“I don’t want you to fuck my cousin, Jungkook. Sue me.” Your straightforwardness makes Jungkook chuckle.
“I wouldn’t fuck your cousin, y/n.”
“Yeah, because you have Vanessa.” You remind him.
“Actually we—”
“—we should head back downstairs.” You try pushing past him but he catches your wrist.
“Tell me why it irritates you so much.”
“I just don’t like it, Jungkook.” You huff.
“Are you perhaps jealous?” Jungkook lowers your wrist, but he doesn’t let go.
“Why would I be jealous?” You yank your wrist from his hold and push past him, walking towards your bedroom door. “Come on.”
You basically told him you weren’t jealous but why did it have to happen that when teams were being chosen for this game night, Jungkook and Manny would get paired together.
The universe is laughing at you. Manny is…shameless. She has no problem flirting with someone else’s man…you’re no exception. You can tell Jungkook is slightly uncomfortable and not really enjoying the attention but still, somehow you are fuming. It’s not like he’s being exceptionally nice to her, he’s just not being standoffish enough to your liking.
“Oh, Jungkook!” Manny giggles for no reason, she leans into Jungkook’s space, just laughing away while sit you here and watch. He chuckles awkwardly, his hands messing with the playing cards in front of him. You hate this view. You thought any view with Jungkook would be a nice one, but you were wrong. Watching your cousin fawn over him like this is making you angry as fuck. As it should, right? Jungkook is your boyfriend! Well—not actually. But still! As far as Manny is concerned, Jungkook is your man, and she needs to back off.
“Manny, could you maybe give my boyfriend some space.” You snap, your voice cutting in through your family’s chatter. The room quiets down and all eyes are on you.
Manny looks all around the room, red creeping on her cheeks as she sits here, embarrassed. She opens her mouth to speak when you hold up a hand to stop her. Then you use that hand to gesture towards their bodies,
“He’s clearly uncomfortable that you are sitting so close, and frankly, I am too.”
“y/n…”
“And he’s too nice to say anything.” Your cold eyes look at her then they slide to Jungkook, “Which is something you need to work on babe.”
“I am not even sitting that close, jeez, you are as dramatic as ever.” Manny tries to roll her eyes, while subtlety scooting away. “And really? You try to call me out in front of everyone?”
“Oh? Should we talk in private then?”
“y/n.” this time the one saying your name is Jungkook. “Maybe we should go to sleep. Start new tomorrow, huh?” The tension between you and Manny too much for him to handle right now, especially in front of everyone.
“I think that’s a great idea.” It’s grandma. “It’s way past my bedtime too.”
“I think your aunt and uncle were just talking about how it’s almost time to leave too. Perfect timing!” Your mom chimes in, “Let’s all say goodnight.”
You don’t say anything to Jungkook as you peel back the baby pink duvet on your bed, you just stare down at your twin mattress with hard eyes.
“Are you okay?”
You continue to stay silent as you slip under the covers, scooting all the way towards the edge of the bed as far as you possibly can.
“y/n…” Jungkook pats in the last of his facial moisturizer into his skin, “I asked if you’re okay?” his back is facing you as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing his moisturizer back in his bag. “It was interesting,” (Hot.) “To see you all…protective,” (Jealous.) “Tonight.”
“I’m going to sleep.” You are laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan. “I don’t feel like talking tonight.”
Jungkook lays down next to you, his body so freaking close. He lays on his side, facing you. His right arm going under his head, trying his hardest to get comfortable in such close quarters.
“No talking, but maybe cuddling?” Jungkook whispers, and you of course hear it clear as day because he is so fucking close to you.
“Call me crazy but I don’t feel like cuddling with a guy who can’t even tell another girl to fuck off.” You shut your eyes. “Not in the mood.”
Jungkook blinks a few times, your words sinking in. You’re kind of right, he should of said something too but he didn’t know what to say. It’s your cousin! In front of your family! And he tried his hardest to lean away from Manny as much as possible.
“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re right. I should have said something.” His left hand reaches out to grab your hand that rests on top of your stomach.
“Yeah, you should have. But now I’m the asshole who called her out in front of everyone.”
Jungkook remembers it, and he darkly chuckles.
“Yeah, and it was hot.” He admits, making you open your eyes as you snap your head towards him.
“You think me being crazy jealous was hot?” you give him a look like he’s crazy.
“So you are jealous?” Jungkook smirks, “But I don’t see it that way. I see it as being protective over what’s yours.”
“So, you’re mine?” you turn to lean on your side, your body bumping into his. “At least until the end of this trip right?” you laugh, “I can’t believe you just don’t want to disappoint grandma.”
“At least until the end of this trip.” Jungkook leans his head closer to yours, “You finally brought home a boyfriend.” He grins as his forehead slightly bumps into yours.
What does Jungkook mean at least? And why does he always become closer and closer to you?
If you were to lift your head up at all, his lips would be dangerously close to yours.
“Jeez, how many fake boyfriends am I going to have this year?” you joke, keeping your head down, “I really got to find a real one by now.”
“I know the room is dark,” Jungkook begins, “But I still want to see your eyes when we talk.”
“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk?”
“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You’re still mad at me?”
“Not really, it’s not your fault. I’m just still pissed at the situation.” You admit quite easily. “It’s honestly so disrespectful of her. You’re my boyfriend. You’re my man. You’re mine.”
Jungkook’s hand settles over your waist, he grabs on and brings you in closer to his body. He inhales you, taking in your scent. You smell so good to him, he could inhale you forever. Your words echo in his mind as he snuggles you closer. Your man? His heart races faster and faster as the echo gets louder.
“I’m yours, hm?” he runs his fingers down your side, starting from your shoulder until the top of your hip bone. “Does that make you mine?” He breathes out, “Are you mine baby?” his fingers dance over your hips, your shirt and shorts separating his fingers from touching your warm skin.
“You know what I mean.” You huff out, closing your eyes from his gentle touch.
“Do I though?” Jungkook’s hand lingers over your hips, until he is playing with the end of your shirt.
“Let me touch your skin.” He softly begs, “It’ll feel nice.”
Your eyes open in surprise, what skin? Where will he be touching?
“Innocent, I swear.” Jungkook adds, “Just want to make you feel nice.”
“Isn’t that weird?” you finally ask.
“I don’t think so.”
“Fine.” You close your eyes again, “Touch me.”
Jungkook bites his lips when you give him the green light, he wasn’t expecting you to agree so quickly. Because what if it is weird? He just wants to touch your skin, no harm done. Jungkook leans up on his arms and tugs at the bottom of your shirt,
“I am going to slide this up a bit, okay?” he asks and you nod your head but you hear him chuckle.
“Words, baby.”
“Yes.” You breathe out, your eyes still closed.
Jungkook takes the material between his fingers and begins to slowly, very slowly ride the shirt up. His eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, where he can see you just enough. The shirt slides up your body, exposing your skin inch by inch. He gulps.
He lifts the shirt up until your pretty blue bralette is showing itself, your breasts falling to the side giving you a good amount of cleavage. He gulps again.
When the shirt is all bunched up at your armpits, Jungkook lays back down on his side. The cold air that spins in circles thanks to the fan is causing your skin to get goosebumps, your stomach feeling extra sensitive.
“Touch me, Jungkook.” You softly command. “I want you to.”
Jungkook swallows hard at your straightforwardness. His hand slowly creeps up to your shoulder, his fingers brushing against the material of the t shirt before he’s lightly dragging his fingers down your side. His fingertips hit your exposed skin, he lightly glides them down, just barely touching you. When he reaches your hip bone he dances his fingers lower until they’re grazing your lower stomach. His touch is so light it’s got your breathing getting just a bit heavier. He repeats his action a few times, starting from your shoulder until his fingers glide across your bare stomach. He’s right, it does feel nice. Too nice, almost.
“How do my fingers feel?” He clears his throat, his voice nice and low. Your eyes shoot open at his question. This is all innocent, but why does that question feel so dirty?
“They feel so good.” You breathe out, “So good.”
Jungkook smiles and continues sliding his fingers over your lower stomach, causing you to release a long, shaky breath. His touch is so fucking good, his touch leaving a trail of fire. As his fingers lightly skid across your stomach he leaves behind such heat. His fingers finally glide up, they barely reach right under your breasts. Your breath catches in your throat, his fingers so dangerously close to your tits and you want to smash your head on something. God, what it would feel like to have them being touched by his large hand.
Jungkook uses just his pointer finger to drag his finger down from the center of your lower chest until he’s passing your belly button, until he’s reaching your lower stomach again, his finger stopping at the drawstrings on your shorts.
You can’t help but release a long, quiet moan as his finger does that over and over. You clench your stomach muscles with each stroke of his fingers. Why does Jungkook have to make you feel so fucking good?
Jungkook feels himself getting hard against your thigh, but he doesn’t care to hide it. Touching your warm, soft skin feels so intimate and that moan you released? His cock needs to hear more. He grabs a hold of your hip, the material of the shorts in the way of your skin.
“Can I lower these a little?” he pants out. “Just a little.”
“Yes.” You feel your breaths getting heavier.
Jungkook slips his fingers under the shorts and slowly drags down the material over your hip, your panties sliding down as well. Jungkook grunts in approval, he thumbs your hip bone causing you to quietly whimper.
“You really like your hips and stomach to be touched.” He states.
“S-Sensitive.” You admit.
Jungkook massages the skin of your hip, very, very lightly. Almost like he isn’t touching you at all, like he’s just trying to tease you. And it’s working. You feel your breaths become more erratic. You keep your eyes closed as the light feeling of his fingertips begin to make you wet. You can’t help but slightly rotate your hips in circles as he touches you, and you can’t help but moan when he puts more pressure into his massage on your hip.
“You like that?” Jungkook breathes out, “Feel good?”
Your hips move faster underneath his electric touch, you start to become desperate, needing more. You finally open your eyes, Jungkook notices how dark and captivating they look. You reach forward until your own hand is at his shirt.
“Off.”
Jungkook looks at you, very confused. But he doesn’t waste another moment when he sits up and throws his shirt off.
“Good.” Your hands go to grope his chest. His strong muscles flex beneath your touch. You drag your hands down his chest until they stop at the waistband of his sweats, he throws his head back as you explore the front of his body.
“Want to touch you too.” You admit between harsh breaths.
Jungkook’s hand goes to the shirt bunched around your shoulders and tugs on it,
“Off too.” He guides you to sit up and he helps you take off your shirt. Your strappy bralette leaves almost nothing to the imagination, Jungkook thinks. The material is so very thin that he sees your hard nipples and he wants to brush his thumb over them. But he refrains.
“Much better.” Jungkook says in one breath. “Now lay down.”
You do as he says, this time you lay on your back instead of your side. You try breathing in and out normally but can’t help how irregular your breaths are.
“Jungkook.” You whine, “Touch me.”
“So needy.” Jungkook’s hand hovers over the top of your stomach, “My baby is so needy.” He whispers.
You reach up and caress Jungkook’s cheek, “I am.” You admit. Jungkook throws his head back, biting on his lip as he grins.
“Good girl.” His fingers lightly dance below your belly button and you whine. He glides his fingers lower and lower until they’re at your waistband.
“Going to pull these down…just a little.” His voice cracks as he stares down at you.
You nod your head and tell him yes over and over.
He drags the shorts just a bit lower, right before your pussy is exposed. His fingers lightly touch your new exposed skin, and you moan. The feeling getting you so worked up.
“I want to do the same to you.” You try say between your rough breathing. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.” Your hands go to his stomach, your touch anything but light as you drag your hands down with pressure. You reach the top of his waist band and begin pulling down until he’s catching your wrist.
“And what do you think you are doing?” Jungkook’s low, deep voice sends a shiver down your god damn spine.
“Innocent, I promise.” You mock, “Want to touch you too.”
“I think we have had enough,” he teases lightly, bringing his hand back to his own body. “Let’s go to sleep.”
“Fine, cuddle me.” You say, annoyed. You turn to your other side, where your back is facing him.
“Fine by me. But…” He sinks down further into the covers to spoon you, one arm going beneath your head and the other pulling you in by the hips, “Remember what happens when we get in this position.” You feel his hard cock poke your ass and you moan out quietly.
“What happens?” you play dumb.
“4 years ago, you asked me to cuddle you like this because you wanted to get fucked.” he says easily and you choke on your spit. He’s referencing that night?
Jungkook is so lost in you, he doesn’t care anymore. He will bring up that night a million times if he has to. He loves you. And he’s starting to get real tired of the constant tension between you two. He pushes his hips into your ass, you feel how hard he is and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“I also said this position makes me feel safe.” You play innocent as you bump your ass into his crotch.
“I make you feel safe?”
“You make me feel a lot of things.” You whimper, backing your ass further into his cock, it’s so hard and poking against you in such a way that drives you nuts.
Jungkook groans as he feels you circling your hips into his crotch. His hand goes to your hip and he squeezes tightly making you moan out.
“You got to be more quiet baby.” Jungkook warns softly, “We don’t want your parents or your grandmother thinking we are really having that ‘slumber party’.” He jokes.
“Then what are we having?”
“Just some innocent massages between friends.” He comments with a snicker.
“Oh? Is my ass massaging your dick so innocent?” you whine out, “I don’t really do this sort of thing with my other friends.” You keep your eyes screwed shut.
“It’s very innocent.” Jungkook teases, he begins lightly humping you. He pushes his cock further and further on your ass cheeks, he moans when you two find a rhythm. He remembers when he fucked you in this position, he remembers it well. How you sounded, how you smelled, how you felt. He memorized the feeling of you.
“Fuck, y/n…” Jungkook quietly groans out. He rocks his hips into you faster, and you hate everything. You want to touch yourself so bad. You want to slide your fingers down your shorts and rub your aching clit, you would like it even more if it was Jungkook’s fingers.
“Not fair…” you say in pout, arching your back.
“What’s not?” he pants.
“I want to feel good too…” you say, flipping to your other side, facing him. You scoot impossibly close until his cock is pressed against your lower stomach.
“Innocently, of course.” You throw a leg over his waist as your hands go to his chest to guide him to lay on his back. “Gonna make us both feel good.” Your eyes are glazed over in lust as you speak.
You straddle his hips and find the right placement in sitting down…his cock nice and snug between your clothed folds. You begin moving your hips until you have the right angle on your clit and you moan.
“Is this okay?” you breathe out and Jungkook nods his head quickly.
You begin rocking yourself against his clothed cock, he quietly whimpers at the feeling. Jungkook screws his eyes shut as his mouth falls open and wonderful panting leaves his lips. You watch him lose his composure as you hump him, you pick up the pace, becoming more and more desperate. Your clit is thanking you. ‘Thank you bitch’ it says.
“I—I can’t” Jungkook moans out, “I—I can’t do this.”
You immediately slow down, rejection sinking in. “What do you mean? You don’t want to do—”
“—I don’t want to do this with clothes on.” Jungkook groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “I need you naked. Fucking now.” He grits out.
You finally still as you process his words. Are you two about to fuck? Is this really a good idea? Again? But you are so far gone…you are so beyond horny that you are able to push your logical thinking to the side.
“Okay.” You look at him with lust filled eyes, “Take off my clothes.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen but he’s nodding his head so fucking fast it’s almost comical. He rushes to unclasp your bralette, your breasts bouncing as they are freed. He sits up, and you are graced with the sight of Jungkook’s mouth sucking on your tit. You arch your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the hardened nub. You throw your head back in pleasure, his hand giving your other breast all the attention it needs.
“Shorts, Jungkook.” You beg. “Take them off me.”
Jungkook detaches his self from your breast and looks up into your eyes and smirks,
“Say please, princess.”
“Fucking please, please.”
Jungkook’s hands quickly find their way to your shorts and your rise to your knees to help him slip them off your legs. Your panties go down with the shorts and Jungkook couldn’t be more pleased.
“Oh my god baby.” Jungkook stares at you with dark eyes, “Your wetness is literally dripping down your inner thighs. You are so fucking wet.” He comments and you smile shyly.
“You…” you begin to say.
“What about me?” he teases, his fingers grazing your inner thigh, he wipes some of your cum off your sensitive skin.
“You did this to me.”
“Yes I did baby. And I will take full responsibility.” He guides your body up his own, you follow his lead.
“Ride my face.” He commands as he lays back down, his hand in yours still guiding you when you stop abruptly.
“W—What?”
“Ride my face baby.” He tugs on your hand and you hesitantly make your way closer to him. You stop when you are hovering over his chest, knees on either side of his neck when you start to get shy.
“I’ve never…”
“Keep going,” his hands go to your hips and he’s guiding you further up until your pussy is hovering over his warm mouth.
“Now sit.”
“Jungkook—”
“I said, sit.”
And you do, you lower yourself over his mouth…you slam your eyes shut, feeling nervous. But then you are met with his wet, warm tongue. You stay still as he begins licking at you, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. You start to relax as the sensation fills you up, his tongue swirling around causing you to release a long, breathy moan. You can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth…the feeling even more spectacular. You try to keep quiet, you really do. But Jungkook’s tongue is quite literally fucking you.
“Ah, Jungkook.” You throw your head back, your eyes rolling all around as you ride his face faster. You feel Jungkook moan into your pussy, making you whimper even more.
You don’t know how much time has passed but it does not matter. Jungkook shows no sign of stopping anytime soon, his tongue working to make you feel so fucking good. You ride his face even harder now, your thighs shaking as you squeeze around his head.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You pant out, “I think I’m going to—”
You rock your hips as fast as you can as you feel your orgasm approaching, Jungkook’s hands squeeze your ass cheeks. He encourages you to rock against him even harder as he guides your hips. His tongue is laid flat against your clit as you ride him faster, you can feel how close you are. You thighs shake and you feel your pussy clench around nothing as your orgasm hits you. It hits you so fucking hard, like a strong wind that’s knocked you over.
“Fuuuuuucckkk.” You squeeze your thighs together, probably crushing Jungkook’s head as you come. You breathe so fucking hard as you try to hurry to come down from your amazing orgasm, you struggle to rise to your knees, so Jungkook helps lift you a bit until you are rising from his mouth.
You inch backwards until you are hovering over his chest, when he makes you sit down. You open your eyes, and take a look at the man before you.
His entire face is glistening with your cum and he looks so fucking happy about it. He’s trying to catch his own breath as he eyes you, his entire face wet with your cum. He is fucking grinning at you.
“You did so amazing baby.” He breathes out.
“That was incredible.” You admit. “Want to…” you start off hesitantly, “Want to fuck my mouth?”
Jungkook slams his eyes shut, and takes a few deep breaths before he slowly opens his eyes again.
“No…We should get cleaned up and go to sleep. Don’t you think?” he asks softly.
“Go…to sleep?” you ask, disappointed. “Sure.” You say kind of detached. “If that’s what you want.”
~~~~~~
Shame. Guilt. Regret.
It’s the next morning and you are trying your hardest to sleep away from Jungkook. But the bed is so small making it almost impossible. You didn’t sleep at all. Which feels unfair because Jungkook is next to you snoring away with a lazy arm thrown over your waist.
Shame. Guilt. Regret.
Jungkook has a girlfriend but you and him…oh my god you made Jungkook a cheater. You are the fucking worst. You let lust win in this dangerous game you two are playing, you let it win and shove it’s victory in your face. You hate yourself. You feel so fucking bad! Vanessa may not be your favorite person but cheating is never okay.
Shame. Guilt. Regret.
You wonder if Jungkook will feel these things too as he wakes up…you wonder if he will feel worse. Jungkook is a lot of things but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s always felt strongly about the subject because of his mom and dad. Will he be weird with you? Will he feel worse than you? Will he be able to forgive himself?
Suddenly, Jungkook’s light snores go quiet and his arm is tightening around your waist just the slightest. He’s awake. He begins pulling you in closer to his body and then you feel his lips on your neck. He leaves just an innocent peck and then you think he may be going back to sleep with how comfortable he’s getting.
“Let’s get up.” You break the silence in the room, “I can hear people downstairs.”
“Oh, good morning.” You feel him smile on your neck, “Why don’t we stay here for just a few minutes?”
Has he not processed what he’s done? Where is his shame? His guilt? His regret? You feel sick.
“We really should get up.” You repeat. “I’m hungry.” You detach yourself from his body and rise from the bed. You don’t even look at him as you grab a change of clothes and exit the room to head towards the bathroom.
Jungkook is left on the bed wondering what’s up with you? Are you feeling awkward after last night? He thought you might be in a good mood…considering your orgasm…but instead your mood seems to be sour.
“Great.” Jungkook mutters underneath his breath. He gets up too, going to his bag to change for the day. When he’s done, he grabs his toiletries and makes his way to the bathroom. He stands outside the door, softly knocking. You swing the door open with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when you usher him inside.
“I’m going to wash up too…” Jungkook warns. He sets his small toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and takes out his face wash, moisturizer and tooth brush.
You nod your head as you continue to brush your teeth, toothpaste foaming at the corner of your mouth.
“How do you feel this morning?” Jungkook tries to make decent conversation as he applies his face wash to his face.
You spit out the toothpaste and rinse your mouth, wiping your face dry with a towel.
“Fine.” You spit out. “Just fine.”
Jungkook washes his face with water, and pats his face dry with a small towel, just nodding his head. He feels awkward.
“I feel fine too…” He adds, trying to add more to the convo. “Do you think grandma heard us last night?” he asks.
“Let’s not talk about last night.” You snap, “Can’t you read a room?”
You grab your things and leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook wondering what the hell he did to make you so mad. Did you hate it that much? Maybe in the past he would have thought that but now…he knows how much you liked it. Loved it even. Jungkook doesn’t feel as insecure as before, he just knows the only way to solve this is to talk to you. Communication.
Communication would be a lot easier if he was given a god damn chance at talking to you but your mom is keeping you so busy in the kitchen with your gossipy aunt’s chitter chatter filling every crevice of the room. You nod along, even laugh as you listen. Jungkook is in the backyard with the three kids, keeping them entertained as you, Manny, Larissa, your aunt and mom bake in the kitchen with grandma sipping her tea at the table. Your dad, uncle and Daniel are in the living room watching some show, clanking their beer bottles together in celebration. Today is Christmas eve. Apparently this is when your family does most of the major celebrating, you guys bake and cook all day, eat a grand dinner and open presents. And Christmas day you just eat leftovers and chill.
The youngest kid has grown quite fond of Jungkook, she tends to feel left out by her two older brothers. Jungkook plays with her and she has already formed an attachment making your cousin in law laugh at them fondly.
“Your boyfriend is great with kids! Lucky you.” Larissa winks at you as she rolls the cookie dough on the counter.
“Yeah, yeah.” You say plainly.
“y/n…what’s wrong?” Manny comes up to your side, “Trouble in paradise?”
“No, Manny.” You snap. “But I bet you would like that.”
“Girls, let’s not fight.” Your aunt cuts in while your mom just looks at you worried.
“I would hardly call it a fight.” You hear your grandmas sweet voice over everyone else’s. “Now how are those drop cookies coming along girls?”
“They’re coming.” You say. “If Manny ever finishes with the dry ingredients.”
“I told you I was almost done, chill out.”
“Girls.” Your mom warns, “y/n, why don’t you go keep Jungkook company?”
Your eyes go from your moms to outside where Jungkook is and you panic.
“No, it’s okay…he’s fine.”
“You know what?” Your grandma speaks up, “I think I will if you won’t.” She sweetly chuckles. She stands from her place at the table, grabs her tea cup and makes her way to the outside table instead, closing the backyard door behind her.
“Hi dear.” Your grandma nods towards Jungkook as he plays pirates with the boys. He is laughing and pretending to have a hook hand, while the boys giggle and run around. The youngest claims she is the lost princess and that Jungkook has to save her. Grandma watches with joy, loving how well he gets along with the children.
“Hi.” Jungkook says out of breath from playing. He tells the kids to keep playing and that he will return shortly, they beg and whined that he stay but he says if they keep playing he will steal them some of the first cookies. The kids nod their head aggressively in agreement.
“How are you this afternoon?” he takes a seat across from her.
“Why is my granddaughter mad at you?” She smiles at Jungkook and his face drains of all color.
“Um…what do you mean?”
“Anyone with eyes knows you two have been strange all morning and afternoon.” Your grandma brings her tea to her mouth, “Maybe Manny was right, there is trouble in paradise.” She smiles again, “The key is to talk to her. Find out what’s going on.”
Jungkook groans, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up again to speak but decides to just groan again in frustration.
“She won’t give me a chance to speak to her.” He admits. “She’s avoiding me.”
“Make the chance happen.” Grandma advices, “You’re a good kid, Jungkook. Even though you decided to lie to poor old me.”
“Lie?”
“You think I really couldn’t tell that you’re not really dating my granddaughter? I’ve been around too long to get fooled by something like that. But I see your feelings are real. So are hers. So why aren’t you two together?”
Jungkook sits here, absolutely stunned silent. He doesn’t know how to respond! Grandma begins sipping on her tea again when she lowers it to speak.
“Go talk to her honey. I want to see my grandbaby happy.”
“I guess we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Jungkook finally speaks.
“No, no. Keep going, it is quite entertaining, dear.” Your grandma chuckles, “Plus, it keeps Manny on her toes. Best if she thinks you are taken. Once she finds out that you are single…I fear for your life, boy.” Your grandma laughs out loud, making Jungkook join her.
“Fair enough.” He says, “But how do I…how do I get her to talk to me?”
“I’m sure you know her better than I do.” Grandma points out, “You’ll figure out what works best for her.”
And your grandma is right, he does know you best. But what will work? When you have avoided things in the past he has usually been the one to force answers out of you. Now is no different.
All the baking for the day is complete, you sit down at the table in the kitchen and let your head fall to the table top. You moan out in satisfaction that you all are finally done…how unfair that the guys got to just chill all day? Your mom has been cooking with your aunt for Christmas dinner while you and your cousins worked on pies and cookies. And they sat and drank beer. Typical.
“Hey.” You feel Jungkook’s warm breath hit your ear and you look up at him, his face so close to yours as he is leaned down to speak to you.
“Can we talk?”
“Nothing to talk about.” You lay your head back down on the table until you feel your arm being pulled upwards, causing you to stand to your feet.
“Don’t be a brat. Let’s go.” Jungkook pulls you up, and starts pulling you in the direction of the staircase.
“Let go of me.” She say weakly, “I can walk myself.”
Jungkook let’s go of your arm and instead reaches for your hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours and you roll your eyes.
“I said, I can walk myself.”
Jungkook only shakes his head in response, guiding you up the stairs until you two reach the bedroom, you both walk inside as Jungkook closes the door behind you two.
“Now talk.” He softly commands.
“Nothing to talk about?”
“y/n…” he warns and you feel your eyes start to sting.
“We fucked up, Jungkook.” You blink back the stinging in your eyes, shame, guilt, and regret joining you.
“How so?”
“What do you mean ‘How so?’” you ask incredulously. “Do you not remember the events of last night? You have a girlfriend!” you throw your hands in the air, “You are a cheater! I’m the one you cheated with…oh my god…”
Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words and he starts shaking his head. He tries walking closer to you but you only step back until your back meets the wall.
“We fucked up.” You cry out. “I’m so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” Jungkook asks softly. You are starting to wonder why this dude is not panicking.
“I made you a cheater.” You cry. Jungkook walks closer to you again until he’s wrapping his arms around your waist.
“You didn’t.” he whispers. “Vanessa and I…we aren’t together right now.”
You sniffle into his shoulder as you process his words…not together right now? What does that even mean?
“She broke up with me.” He begins to explain, “Said she wants to break up until New Year’s but I don’t think we will be getting back together.”
“Why not?” you whisper.
“I…I don’t know.”
“Oh.” You untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms, “But you aren’t a cheater?”
“No.”
You sigh out in relief, a huge, long, heavy sigh. Thank God. You feel shame, guilt, and regret leave your body making you feel ten times lighter.
“So I have nothing to feel bad for?”
“Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook smiles at you, “Now can we go enjoy Christmas? I cannot wait to give you your present.”
You pull on your hair, feeling nervous suddenly. Is he just going to brush past this too? Are you two not going to bring up last night in more detail? Figure out what it means for you two? Are you two just friends who occasionally hook up? That’s not what you want. What do you want? “Sure.”
~~~~~
“Dinner was delicious, honey.” Your dad says reaching over to cup your moms cheek. “I think I ate way too much this year.”
“Oh sweetheart, you say that every year.” Your mom laughs, “What about everyone else? Eat enough?”
Everyone around the table groans in happiness, nodding their heads yes and complimenting the dinner.
“Well, I suppose we should get on to the presents portion of the evening?” Your mom stands from her chair, “Let’s all go into the living room around the tree.”
Everyone makes their way into the living room, you and Jungkook being the last two to make it inside. You two stand here awkwardly, not entirely too sure where to sit since it is a bit crowded. Your grandma points at you two with a cheeky smile.
“Mistletoe.” She yells out. “Mistletoe!”
You point at yourself in question and then at Jungkook. What mistletoe? Then you see Jungkook looking up and his face turning completely red. Oh.
“We really don’t—”
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” you hear your various family members chanting. Your parents grinning like fools as they chant as well. Your grandma winks at Jungkook and Jungkook goes even redder.
“We don’t have to Jungkook” you whisper. Jungkook clears his throat repeatedly until his face begins going back to his normal color.
“No, it’s tradition right?”
“I mean, I guess.” You shrug, you begin to turn red yourself.
“C’mere.” He reaches for your hand and pulls you in to his chest, then his other hand goes to cup your jaw. “Just one kiss.” He whispers.
You feel all his body heat enter your body, his touch making you so fucking warm. You nod your head pathetically as you tilt your head up. Jungkook smiles down at you and leans in just a bit, his forehead pressing against yours. Your eyes go to his lips, they are pink and his bottom lip is plump. Jungkook leans lower until his mouth is hovering over yours and he very innocently pecks your lips. You wish his kiss had lingered longer but it is short but sweet. He leans away from you, his forehead still pushed up against your own when you surge forward and kiss him again.
You hear the hollering of your cousin Daniel and his wife Larissa, Manny probably pouting. Your aunt and uncle are giggling and your parents laughing but telling you to behave. Your grandma snickers to herself and starts softly clapping her hands together.
“I thought I said just one?” Jungkook teases, his hand lowering to his side but his other hand keeps holding yours.
“I couldn’t help myself.” You admit confidently “Now let’s do presents!” you turn to face everyone else.
“Agreed!” your mom yells out excitedly. “First, we have Manny from Daniel…”
The night continues, everyone exchanging presents. Your parents loved their gifts, your mom thought the necklace was very thoughtful and your dad says he would love to take you to the game with him. You give Jungkook your gift, he yelps in excitement when he unwraps his gift when he sees the boots.
“Thanks baby, I know I haven’t shut up about these shoes for months!” he leans in to hug you. “Now it’s my turn.” He grins.
He searches the tree for the last gift of the night: Jungkook to you. He grabs the box and hands it to you, a shy smile making its way on his lips.
“Here, for you.” He sits back and waits for you to unwrap it. Your parents and the rest of your relatives wait as well.
“Okay, here I go.” You begin unwrapping the box, throwing the gift paper to the side on the floor and are met with a brown box. You raise a brow at Jungkook and he just smiles widely.
“Go on,” he says, “Open it.”
So you do. You carefully open the box and pull out a wooden box—a music box. The top of the music box is glass with a photo of you and Jungkook, your heart absolutely melts into two.
“Open it, open it.” He urges excitedly.
“Okay…”
You lift the top of the music box, revealing its insides. Your absolute favorite song in the world starts playing and you feel the waterworks coming. This song means everything to you. He knows it is your favorite.
“Read what it says…” he mentions shyly. “There’s a message.”
I will always believe in you. I will always support you. And I will always love you.
You read the message to yourself a few times over and you start sniffling, a few tears leaving your eyes. You look up to make eye contact with Jungkook and he smiles. You close the box and slip it back inside the box and set it to the side, you crawl towards Jungkook and hug him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you throw your head into his shoulder, and you start mumbling your thanks.
“Of course baby.” He whispers into your hair, “I mean it.”
“I know you do…” you murmur. “I know.” You sniffle harder. “And I love you more.”
You, yourself aren’t entirely sure how you meant the words ‘I love you’ in this moment. You are so overwhelmed and overjoyed that you aren’t sure if you said it platonically or romantically. All you know is that you meant it.
“That’s impossible.” Jungkook chuckles. You slowly leave his arms, feeling embarrassed now that you’re crying in front of everyone.
“What did it say?” Manny asks, “You didn’t even share!”
“Let’s leave it between the love birds.” Your grandma says.
“Love birds indeed.” Your mom grins, “Well, Santa comes nice and early tomorrow!” she says to the kids.
“Are you sure about leaving them here tonight?” Daniel asks, “Santa can come to the hotel too.”
“Don’t be silly,” your mom says, “I will put them to bed on the sofas. It will be fine.”
“Okay, we will see you all bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Larissa begins packing up their things.
“Heading out already?” Your dad asks, “Well, take some food with you.”
You and Jungkook stay seated on the floor, as the rest begin cleaning up. Your mom picks up all the gift wrapping paper off the floor while your dad puts away gifts and you and Jungkook sit side by side.
“Did you like your gift?” Jungkook inches closer to you.
“I love it, Jungkook.” You lean into his shoulder, resting your head on him. “It makes me so happy.”
“What about me…do I make you happy?”
“So happy.” You admit. “I hope I can make you this happy too.”
“You do.” Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “Like, you have no idea.” He reaches for your hand and tangles his fingers with yours.
“Do you two want to head to bed? We got the cleaning covered.” Your mom offers. You yawn in response, showing her that you could use some sleep.
“Yeah, okay.” You accept gratefully, you stand up taking Jungkook with you. You two say your goodnight’s and head towards the stairs up to your bedroom.
“Goodnight you two.” Your grandma sings, sending a wink to Jungkook and he goes red again.
“Why does she keep winking at you?” You wonder out loud.
“No idea…” Jungkook is quick to respond. “Weird…”
When you and Jungkook get to your room, you both rush to get changed and wash up in the bathroom. He finishes before you, settling into the bed. You come in next, wearing your sleep shorts and a tank top. You turn the lights off and make your way to your bed, you slip inside and groan in satisfaction…ah, sleep time.
“Hey y/n…”
“Hm?” you sleepily roll over to your side to face Jungkook, “What’s up?”
“I just want to say…” he pauses and bites his lip. “Thanks. I just want to say thanks.”
“For what babe?”
“For bringing me for Christmas…this is the first time I have felt so at home in years.” He admits, “You have no idea what this means to me.”
“I’m glad you’re happy Jungkook.”
“More than happy.” He corrects. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”
“Then tell me.”
“Can I show you instead?” Jungkook leans closer to you, tilting his head at the right angle. “Can I kiss you?”
You can’t help but swallow hard, Jungkook wants to kiss you? To show you what you mean to him? That’s romantic right? You aren’t totally reading this wrong?
“Why?” you ask, gulping down your spit.
“Because.” He breathes out softly, “Please.”
You can smell the toothpaste on his breath, you can smell his laundry detergent on his clothes, you can smell the shampoo in his hair. You inhale him and hold your breath.
“If I say no?” you blink up at him and he smiles softly.
“Then I will respect that.” He answers honestly.
With your eyes still adjusting to the darkness it is hard to see his eyes but you just know they are soft and inviting.
“Jungkook…” You scoot closer to him, moving your head to be at level with his face. “Baby…” you whimper out as you lean in closer to his face.
“Is that a yes?” He asks, his breath hitting your lips. “Because—”
Your lips find his in a slow, tender kiss. You peck his lips over and over and you can feel his lips shaping into a smile. You pull away after a few seconds, feeling breathless after the short kiss.
“Goodnight Jungkook.” You scoot down until your head hits his chest and you snuggle into it.
“Goodnight baby.” Jungkook smiles, laying on his back as he stares up at the dark ceiling. How will he find sleep tonight? His heart is racing in his chest. Are you finally starting to understand his feelings? He knows he hasn’t talked about them yet…but he will. Yes, he definitely will.
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