#why do i have to have two severely abusive parents huh. no escape other than just like

[dykethang]

i think mothers day simply should not exist. why are we forcing literally everyone to be celebrating people just for giving us life. what if i want to avoid the notion but i can't because it's everywhere

[naavispider]

Here is part 6 😁😁 honestly I’m enjoying just rambling about their time in the forest, there is no plot other than that of the overall movie 😂

Content warning: in this part Quaritch does slap Spider after he felt betrayed by him. I thought a lot about whether this would be realistic for Quaritch to do, and decided I think it is. It was a moment of anger for a war hardened marine who’d never been a parent before and didn’t know how to react. I don’t think Quaritch (the avatar version) would be abusive to Spider overall, but idk I still need to think about it 🤷🏼‍♀️ Anyway...... enjoy!

With Spider leading again, they continued their arduous trek through the jungle, not speaking much, avoiding the rain as best they could. At one point, Quaritch had thrown Spider a human ration bar. Spider wasn't sure why. At least it confirmed his suspicions that the man had indeed bought human food along for him. This made no difference to the way Spider felt however. They were nothing more than prisoner and captor: that was the extent of their relationship. Yet, as Spider endlessly replayed the conversation they'd had last night in his mind, he knew that Quaritch didn't see it that way.

In the morning light, it started to sink in that if the RDA was successful in killing Jake, Spider's fate was sealed. Quaritch had made his intentions very clear last night. Without Jake, would there be anybody left that was willing and able to rescue him? He supposed that Neteyam and Lo'ak would want to, but doubted that Neytiri would allow it. The science guys that raised him weren't warriors - Spider was sure it was beyond their ability to break him out of Hell's Gate. Besides, would anyone actually want to rescue him? If Quaritch killed Jake, surely Spider would be held at least partly responsible, at least in the minds of the Na'vi. Yeah, there was no hope of rescue if the worst was to happen.

Shoving aside the depressing train of thought (which he found himself doing a lot recently), he tried to focus instead on options for how he could escape this hell himself. While he had the tracker in his mask, he was helpless. He couldn't risk running and being found, for being sent back to the demon machine at Bridgehead. No, the tracker was his biggest problem, but he knew that if he could somehow get rid of it, he would be able to survive the few days alone in the forest that it would take to find his way back to basecamp. So, he needed to find a way to ditch the tracker, while maintaining the ability to breathe. Easy.

****

The mist and drizzle had completely soaked Quaritch. Despite this, he couldn't deny enjoying the wilderness without constant fear of being mauled or attacked by mutant dogs. Huh. Avatar perks. His mind had been whirling all morning with thoughts about the day's activities, predominantly their upcoming challenge of taming the banshees. He'd also been sure to keep supplying Spider with ration bars - the kid was starting to slow down, and that slowed everybody down.

After a few hours of continuous hiking, Quaritch called a break for lunch. "20 minutes. Then we move on," although the only person who actually needed a rest was Spider. He dug an Avatar bar out of his pack. The shit tasted vile, but it was the perfect recipe to keep the body healthy. The guys around him also liked to complain about the bars, but they had several days of supplies left. After that, Spider would have to show them how to eat from the earth. Thankfully, the drizzle had stopped a while ago, and the sun was starting to emerge fully from behind the clouds. Spider shrugged off the soaked jacket and tossed it unceremoniously back to Quaritch, still acting pissy. In return Quaritch passed him two more ration bars. He expected a snarky comment about something or other, but it didn't come. The boy simply accepted the bars and went to sit away from the group.

So be it. Quaritch turned his attention to ensuring that the guys were all eating and staying hydrated. Savine had set her AR aside, and was rummaging through the medkit.

"Still alive over there?" he questioned.

"Some bastard flower has flared me up..." she muttered, pulling out a tube of some kind of cream. She rolled up her pant leg and indeed her right calf was covered in a raised, red rash. It looked nasty. Quaritch frowned.

"Fuck that!" muttered Wainfleet, looking over.

"Son of a bitch," Savine hissed as she applied the cream. "Still, I think I'll live to ride a motherfucking banshee later!"

Despite her nonchalance, Quaritch thought it looked just a bit too nasty to be completely blasé over.

He looked over his shoulder. "Spider?" he called, frowning when he couldn't immediately see the boy. He was sure the kid would know some plant or other that could help. Spider didn't reply. Concern immediately peaking, he stood up and walked over to the last spot he'd seen the kid. Wainfleet caught on too, and swiftly came over to search the area to the left.

"Spider?" Quaritch called, as if playing an absurd game of hide and seek. He walked further into the trees, away from the camp, hoping the boy had just wandered off to nature's ensuite.

"Come on, kid," he muttered under his breath. This would delay them a day at least if Spider had made a run for it. Just as he decided to return to his pack to activate the tracker, a shout from Wainfleet bought him 30 yards to the left.

"The Hell are you doing kid?! Colonel, I've got him!" Wainfleet was calling, and sure enough, there was Spider, held under his grip. Spider's mask was off.

Spider's mask was off.

"Jesus kid, put your damn mask back on!" Quaritch yelled, anger radiating out of his skin, but Spider was already doing so.

"Look what he was doing boss," Wainfleet held out his hand, which contained a small piece of black plastic. He recognised it instantly as the back casing of the base part of the mask. Quaritch stared at it, working out the pieces.

One of Spider's hands was clutching a large, red thorn, which he'd obviously used as a makeshift screwdriver. Quaritch was almost impressed, except that the tracker remained buried in place at the back and functioning. Kid didn't even know what he was looking for.

Quaritch closed his eyes slowly. He sighed deeply, but it came out as more of a growl. He signalled to Wainfleet to release Spider, and knelt down so he was level with the boy. Spider stared defiantly back.

"Take a deep breath," he warned him.

Spider's eyes narrowed in confusion, and for a split second, panic. Quaritch waited until the boy had breathed, then in one fluid motion, removed the mask and slapped Spider harshly across the face. He immediately replaced the mask and pressed the on button, but this was difficult due to the fact that Spider stumbled sideways with the force of the blow. He gasped as the mask was fitted, catching his breath, and hastened to back away from Quaritch as quickly as he could.

Quaritch stared him down. He didn't need to say anything more to reprimand the boy. Once Spider caught both his breath and his balance, he glared daggers up at him.

"We move on!" he shouted, keeping his eyes boring into Spider's. Giving himself a mental shake, he shoved Spider onwards, ensuring that the others had heard him and were following suit.

Why was he taking this so personally? Rationally, he knew that Spider would be likely to try and escape. He probably still would. He should never have got so soft on the boy last night. All he'd done was got his hopes up that Spider could possibly warm to him so soon. From now on, he needed to remember that Spider was not his friend. No more Mr Nice Guy. The kid was a member of the enemy; a prisoner of war, a hostage, a bargaining chip. He was a flight risk who could ruin the whole operation. Quaritch cursed himself for forgetting that, even for a few minutes.

"You keep your hands where I can see them,” growled Quaritch. He debated binding the kids hand here and now, but thought better of it. They couldn’t afford to waste anymore time, and a bound Spider was a slow Spider.

This was going to be a long trek.

[whump-town]

Was Hotch Abused?

I offer you my 2,300+ worded thoughts on the matter with episodes included. There's going to be lots and lots of talk about abuse so you're going to want to steer clear of that if that's something you're not cool with but for those of you interested... I give you all the proof I could think of:

Natural Born Killer.

In the eighth episode of the first season, “Natural Born Killer”, we meet Vincent Perrotta. His father was abusive but from the outside looking in, no one knew a thing. Perrotta started drinking at fourteen and committed petty crimes, as well as assault, for pleasure. Going as far as to kill his own father not too long after. But Perrotta is a monster and a psychopath so it’s clear we’re not supposed to sympathize which makes his interaction with Hotch so peculiar.

Hotch is our “Captain America”. A true neutral with an infinity for doing what’s right so it’s inconceivable to compare him to Perrotta and yet Hotch gives us some rather conflicting lines to dissect.

Before Gideon hands the interview over to Hotch, he spends a moment talking with the others out in the bullpen. The whole time he’s leaned back and he’s watching Morgan and Hotch. Now, at this point, we don’t know about the sexual abuse Derek Morgan faced at the hands of Carl Buford but there’s something about the way that Gideon spends the entirety of the conversation only looking at the two of them. Waiting for them to put together what he clearly already has and when Hotch does…

Hotch jumps straight into Perrotta’s profile, asking: “You grew up in a house that looked normal and happy, didn’t you Vincent?”, “But your father beat you every chance he got”

Perrotta excuses it with a shrug, “he smacked me around some, didn’t everybody’s old man?”

Abuse is a complicated thing and, often, abused children just don’t know what their parents are doing to them is abuse. It can be a subtle and outright thing but there’s an element of normalcy to it. The parent’s abuse is as habitual, as minimal as biting your nails to the child. Adults often can’t identify their parent’s past abuse.

With Hotch you learn that his lack of expression is often as telling as his expressions and as Hotch looks back at Perrotta, there’s something so sad about his eyes. His voice goes from loud, assertive to his whispered answer to Perrotta’s question. “No.” As if, well, maybe that’s a question he’d raised once too.

Perrotta doesn’t care about that though and he taunts “well, maybe if yours had you would have learned to fight”. But is it not more telling that Hotch didn’t make a sound? Perrotta got in several hits and the only sound Hotch made was when the wind was literally punched out of him. Not even when Gideon called to him and at that point, Perrotta did not the garrote around Hotch’s throat. That’s another thing mentioned before in the profile and something Hotch mentions to Perrotta directly. You learn to take the beatings, smile even. So, it’s just a little odd how little Hotch responded…

But that’s all nothing, you can take that how you want

Which leads us to the fateful, not everyone comment.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent. When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers"

That can’t mean NOTHING, there’s so much there but there’s something about Hotch’s subtle wording. The way he’s unconsciously slipped himself in there (a very real thing that people do) and he hasn’t even realized it. Doesn’t even know he’s done it until Perrotta pushes and he pauses, asks what Perrotta means. And the subtly of it, the way he doesn’t even mean to that says more than anything else.

“And some people grow up to catch them.”

It’s a super-specific comment to make. He can’t possibly be talking about Derek because he doesn’t even know about Carl Buford yet not to mention saying that about him would be incredibly rude if he were talking about Reid (and again, he doesn’t know about Reid’s childhood yet). So… that really only leaves him because JJ, Garcia, and Elle were not abused.

“P911”

In season two, episode two “P911” the team is hunting down a man trying to sell a young boy, Peter, on the black market. Kevin Rose is an underage boy “selling” himself on the internet while his abusive father has been in prison. I’ll let you just guess who it is that leads the team on finding out more about Kevin.

Your guess is more than likely right-- Morgan and Hotch. Now, we know about Morgan but come on. Nothing to say about it being Hotch who makes the emotional appeal?

The camera even follows his gaze, he’s crouched down (to appear non-threatening because he’s so close) and we watch his eyes take in the scars on Kevin’s chest. You can also note that while Gideon remarks that Kevin’s father was “always drunk, you never knew why he was hurting you, why he was so angry” both Kevin and Hotch look away from him.

AND FUCKING TRY AND TELL ME THE “some grow up to catch them” LINE WAS NOTHING TRY BECAUSE GUESS WHAT GIDEON SAYS? NO, NO GUESS--

Gideon: “At night you’d cry yourself to sleep hoping someone would come and save you”

And it’s HOTCH, HOTCH IS THE ONE TO SAY: “You have the chance to be the one who saves someone, Kevin. You can be the one who answers him, the one who stops his pain.”

PARALLELS PEOPLE THE PARALLELS

“Profiler, Profiled”

I bet you weren’t expecting this one, huh? But there’s something about people who faced trauma that makes it so perceptible to other traumatized people-- they sniff it out like coke to a drug hound. And, just guess, who it is that spends the majority of his time fighting with Morgan? Who knows (like I said about the bloodhound) immediately there is something Morgan’s hiding.

Hotch is angry, he’s upset that Morgan would hide anything. Mumbling about there being “larger implications” and how the team can’t have secrets. With the knowledge of exactly what that secret is it makes Gideon’s eye roll a little telling. Because it’s like they both know but neither will say. Driven home by Gideon turning the attention to Hotch, asking “would you want us profiling you?”

And again Hotch is the one to leap onto the abuse. The one to put the pieces together. Hotch’s anger makes no sense. He says he’s angry that Derek’s keeping a secret but the team has many, way too many. Over the years the team unwraps all kinds of secrets, he’s never angry then. So, it’s not about the implication of a secret at all. It’s what the secret is, like misplaced anger. Anger with himself may be leftover from his own abuse. But still…

Hotch lets Morgan escape. Knows exactly who and what Carl Buford is but all he tells the team is that “he won’t even speak about him”. He always knows how to find the abuse… like I said, a bloodhound.

George Foyet

I know you’re going to find this so fucking surprising but guess who also was abused? George Foyet was beaten by his biological father and his mother didn’t save him so he hates women (bleh, men are disgusting what’s knew).

Now, blah, blah, blah Hannah, I know you’re not about to say Foyet and Hotch are a lot alike-- no of course not. Don’t be silly. What I’m going to say is that they’re foil characters? They accent one another in an opposites sort of way. Foyet is a manipulative narcissist who doesn’t work well with others. Hotch is a guilt-ridden team leader who can’t let The Reaper’s case go. There are meant to be comparisons drawn between them. A good villain does that. George Foyet shows us that Hotch is not at all this removed, cool guy that we’ve previously assumed him to be. He cries in an alley because he blames himself when The Reaper kills a busload of people.

We see he has a rather compulsive nature. He never let The Reaper case go and has very personal ties in this case. Not even after Foyet attacks him, if anything it’s worse. He brings the case file home.

But it’s certainly interesting to see yet another “villain” with that same tragic abusive father and submissive mother come into play with Hotch. We’re nearing a point where it’s getting hard to call it coincidence (and according to David Rossi, there simply is not such thing).

Haunted.

In the second episode of the fifth season, “Haunted”, Hotch voice’s over a Dickinson quote: “One need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing. Material place.” These quotes are often cheesy, if not a little cliché, but given the premise of this episode is in exploring the ways in which a man’s traumatic childhood has left him now grappling for a truth he can not define… well, maybe we can say the writers were onto something here.

Darrin Call, debatably the Unsub of “Haunted”, was abused by an alcoholic father. We see several signs of it throughout the episode-- Darrin’s delayed speech & severe neglect that leaves Darrin in dirty, hole-riddled clothing. If what we see is not enough, the reports that the team is given on Darrin explicitly state that he was extremely physically abused. It is this abuse that leads to the PTSD that he’s diagnosed with.

As sad and disheartening as Darrin Call’s life is, overall it’s the sort of episode that is forgotten over time. When it’s placed right after the episode that viewers have to watch Hotch say goodbye to Haley and Jack then, who is Darrin Call when compared to the agony of watching Hotch show genuine weakness? After watching Hotch lay in a hospital bed, tears in his eyes wondering if his son will remember him? His fears become our own and after watching George Foyet disarm and mutilate the one guy we’ve been led to believe for five seasons is infallibly, unflinchingly never going to break… well, Darrin Call has it bad but our focus is elsewhere.

It’s on Hotch, right?

The guy who is coming back to the job after only a month (and a day) off to recover. Who Morgan worries might have PTSD but he knows they can’t easily measure because Hotch wrote the questionnaire, he knows all the right answers. Who we see has had new locks installed since the attack and has Foyet’s file sitting open on a table for easy access. Who hears Darrin Call’s life (worked the same job without promotion for years before getting fired, no wife, no kids, a hermit) and bluntly asks why Darrin hasn’t just killed himself.

And let’s just take a moment to break down that comment. Hotch, who in the episode previously lost his wife and child, wants to know why a man who is steadily starting to sound a lot like him hasn’t just killed himself.

And I don’t say “sounds a lot like him” lightly.

Darrin Call has PTSD. Hotch, more than likely, has PTSD

Here are some signs just from that episode: hostility (he yelled at Garcia over something very small), self-destructive behavior (he ran into Darrin Call’s father’s house without a vest, back-up, or telling the other’s what he was doing), and guilt (blamed himself for missing the eye twitching Darrin exhibited because of his years of antipsychotic use)

Darrin Call was abused… this marks the second HEAVILY implied time that Hotch has been compared to another man abused by his father

Vincent Perrotta was the first with that hard to forget the exchange

George Foyet and his notably exactly the same past as Perrotta

“Haunted” feels like it’s supposed to prove to the audience that Hotch is losing it. He distances himself from Morgan, leaving every room that Morgan is in. He doesn’t pick up Garcia’s calls after Darrin Call attacks his therapist. The only glimpse we see of the old Hotch is with Emily, pulled to the side, but his guilt burns and he even brushes her off. Shaking his head and turning his back to her because somehow he should have seen something no one else did.

Throw in Reid’s comment about Call “victims are often drawn to the scene of their first trauma” and we’re painfully reminded of Hotch’s apartment. A place you’d think he’d want to escape but didn’t. The man was stabbed nine times in his own apartment and stayed in that same place. Almost sounds like that statement could be applied to Hotch too.

A dash of Hotch’s own comment about where Call would go to in his confusion and he says “to what he knows”, even the importance of how that orphanage is “where he became Darrin Call”. Where does Hotch go? What does Hotch know? The job.

So… we tally now three total Unsubs that Hotch has this direct relationship with. Three Unsubs with abusive fathers and mothers who couldn’t protect them. Hmm… coincidence?

Brothers Hotchner

Supervisor Special Agent Hotchner is a master of hiding, that is undeniable. It’s hard to see anything behind those furrowed brows and impersonal suits and that’s likely for a reason. However, anyone with a little sibling can tell you that no one on this Earth can and will annoy the ever-loving shit out of you like a sibling.

But that’s not really important. Sean and Hotch don’t talk about their parents. At all. Ever.

Hotch says that when Sean was in the first grade he got sent off to boarding school. “I was the screw-up making bad choices”. Interesting enough of a statement to make but you throw in the rough ages of Sean and Hotch at that time and it’s a little more than just “interesting”. You have Hotch at roughly 14-15 getting into trouble just like Morgan did at that same age (coincidence???).

(now you can certainly look at Hotch’s parentification vs. Sean’s immaturity doubled with substance abuse problems but we’d be stretching. “The Tribe” touches on the parentification but Sean just calls it “the big brother” thing and tells Hotch that he’s not Sean’s father and it’s fine it’s whatever. Hotch is a bit pushy. That’s not new. Substance abuse can just be a problem, it doesn’t have to be bc they were abused but again… a little coincidental)

So... was Aaron Hotchner abused as a child? I certainly think so

[papergirllife]

Chapter 3

Synopsis:

You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?

Warnings:

big age gap (kinda?)

issues on anxiety

issues on depression (mild)

issues on parental abuse

smut (maybe)

Tag List: @etherealtyjaem​ ,  @caratzennie  , @johnnysuhnflower  ,  @euphoricchannie  ,  @yeollieseo  ,  @jjhmk  , @sherzess , @wonderfulkoreanpop​

(lmk if you wanna be on the list)

You’ve been seeing Mr Suh, correction, Johnny, his first name, as per requested by Johnny himself.

“Mr Suh makes me feel older than I already am, you make me feel like a teenager all over again, so you have to call me Johnny. Let me relive my days when I was still a college kid.”

You didn’t mind, things aren’t as awkward between the two of you anymore, Johnny’s been spending time with you, although the two of you never established any sort of labelling towards what this relationship is. You and Johnny only hung out and had meals together, trying out different cuisines, watching movies, even going as far as skipping a day at work to go to the amusement park. He even bought you to an arcade when you told him you haven’t had the chance to venture to one since you were in grade school.

“Why haven’t you ever been to one for so long?” Johnny asked when he finished a round of pinball.

“They said it was a waste of time and that I should spend more time studying,” you said, wondering why Johnny would ask that, isn’t it the same for all the kids?

Whenever you mention your confining life to Johnny, he’d have a faraway look in his eyes, jaw locked in silent rebuke, he doesn’t say anything, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He would be quite for almost half an hour before he goes back to regular cheerful Johnny, telling you lame jokes that you would surprisingly find funny.

You didn’t have a phone, since your parents forbid you to have one, the only means of communicating is through your email account on your laptop, and even that you must always bear in mind to delete his mails right after, and take further precaution, you didn’t allow him to initiate the sending.

Johnny wanted to buy you one, but you rejected him promptly, you didn’t want him to spend so much money on you, he already spends lots on taking you out to eat. You gave him the excuse that it was too dangerous, and the consequences of getting caught are severe.

You often questioned your relationship with Johnny, you aren’t dumb, you’ve googled him and saw gossip news portals uploading photos of him and some model going out and about in hotels, but those headlines were months ago, the latest news about him was from his interview with Times magazine.

You never had the guts to ask him, you don’t know what you mean to him. What right do you have to question his whereabouts and what he does? He’ll probably be bored of you after he’s known all of you.

You know you shouldn’t think of Johnny that way, it is mean to assume what he’s thinking, especially how well he’s treating you, but seeing those headlines gives you a sense of insecurity, you keep telling yourself that this won’t last, but the thought of not seeing him again made your hair stand. He’s making you happy, a distraction towards the negativity you face in that house you live in, but for how long?

House. You never called it a home, unless you were telling your boss you were leaving, to prevent anyone from questioning your odd way of describing it. It was never a home to you. To you, a home is a place where you feel happy, safe, and most importantly, loved. The closest you’ve ever felt to having these feelings were your grandma and Joh... No, you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you. What were you thinking?

You pushed those thoughts away as you opened your laptop to double check the files that you’ve typed out for your parent’s next important meeting that was supposed to be taking place first thing tomorrow. But when you went through your folders, the files were nowhere to be seen. It’s then you realised that the notification that keeps urging you to update the laptop was gone, it wasn’t the first time you updated the laptop and found out some files were missing, so you would never update the laptop at such a crucial time.

You took the laptop out to your father who was watching some news on his phone in the dining area to ask him if he had updated the software without alerting you.

“Yes, I did. What about it?” he asked, annoyance on his face due to the sudden disturbance.

“The files are missing because of the update,” you informed him.

“What files?” 

“The files for tomorrow’s meeting, they’re missing,” you told him as you mentally prepared yourself for what’s to come.

“What do you mean missing?! I bet it was because you saved it wrongly again! Your retarded brain never works does it?! Do you know how important those files are?! You always work on them late at night blurry eyed, of course you didn’t save them properly! You could’ve worked on them in the morning before work. but no... You want to ‘exercise’! What a waste of time!” You’re not pretty anyways, what are you doing them for huh?!” Your father shouted, his eyes blazing in rage, his fist slamming onto the glass.

While your father was shouting, your mother was checking the laptop as she complains about how clueless you are. It was like your brain couldn’t take the amount of hurtful words piercing into your mind like daggers, you let out a high pitched scream as tears threatened to fall, your hands covering your ears as your eyes were a blur.

When you could see properly again, you could make up words which sounded like ‘how dare you’ from your father, next thing you registered were the fury in his eyes as he advances on you, hand above his head, ready to hit you. You didn’t know what came over you, but the first thing you did was kicking him away. That’s when a full on fight broke out.

You were filled with rage, your mind wasn’t registering what you were doing. You went into a flight or fight stance and started thrashing and kicking as his hands were holding painfully tight on your wrists after you tried punching him.

Your mom urges the both of you not to fight, her voice barely registering in your head as she sits still on the high chair by the kitchen island, not bothered to even try to cease the fight.

When you finally pushed him away, you ran into your room and locked it. Your chest was heaving from the panic attack that just started, you tried your best to calm yourself down, reminding yourself to breathe, it was suffocating, controlling your breathing as more tears made its way out of your eyes.

When it all stopped, your body succumbed into mental exhaustion, passing out on your bed as the tears finally ceased.

You only woke up for dinner last night, and proceeded to sleep again. Yesterday’s events made you feel numb, other than the pain from the bruises on your arms.

There was a big ugly one on your left upper arm, its colour an ugly shade of green and purple.  A few other less serious ones scattered around your lower arms. In other words, you look like a wreck.

You wore a jacket to run even though you were sweating from your previous cardio work outs, feeling a little better after the endorphins in your body kicked in. When you got back, you quickly showered and ate a toast. When you asked for your mother’s phone to remind your boss you were going to take the day off, she told you that weren’t needed at the meeting anymore and that she finished everything last night.

“Just call to say that you’ll be going to work,” she said, not even looking in your direction when she handed you her phone.

But when you called to inform your boss, he told you that he had another part time coming in, and that it was too short of a notice. You said thank you and hung up, but said that you’ll be at work on time today before handing it back to your mother.

You really needed to escape for the day.

You opened the laptop and sent an email to Johnny.

I’m free today. Wanna go out?

You sat on your bed staring at the ceiling as you were sure it was going to be a bit before he replied, but just as you closed your eyes, you heard a distant chime from your laptop.

I’m rushing some stuff at the office today. I’m so sorry, Y/N.

Can I stay in your office? I really wanna get out of the house.

You sounded like a spoiled kid begging for attention, but you really wanted to see him today.

Sure. But you might get bored :) .

I’m leaving the house now :) .

For a 26 year old businessman, he sure loves to use emoticons.

You got changed into jeans and a jacket, you don’t usually wear one if you were going to a secluded area with Johnny, but you had to hide all the marks from last night. You just noticed that they hurt after you accidentally knocked your wrist against something.

You took the bus to the address Johnny wrote down on your diary, it was after one of your dinners together, and he jokingly said that you could always swing by if you wanted, you didn’t know you were going to actually do that.

The bus station wasn’t too far of a walk from his office, since it was just downtown Seoul where the Korea’s financial hub was located.

As you were nearing the office buildings, you stood out like a sore thumb, given the way you were dressed and your age. The people kept giving you stink eyes and sideway glances.

Suh Capital Partners. That was it.

You walked in the rotating doors, only to be greeted by masses of people walking around with smart pads, files, talking on the phone while the assistants take notes. Johnny didn’t mention his company being this big.

You admired the facade of the lobby, it displayed the latest news on a large monitor while futuristic lights hung from the high ceiling, the walls were a perfect balance of steel and wood with a wall of plants filled the wall behind the reception area. 

You realised that the people stopped what they were doing before and started looking at you curiously when one of the nicely dressed women from the reception walked up to you.

“Excuse me, miss. May I ask who are you looking for?” the woman asked, her eyes scanning you from top to toe.

You froze at your spot from how cold she sounded, like she didn’t want you around to ruin the aesthetic of the company. You reminded yourself that you weren’t going to see her anytime soon after this and that if you did make a fool of yourself then so be it.

“I’m looking for Mr Suh,” you told her.

She looked taken aback from your answer, but gave you the ugliest sneer when she recovered.

“Miss, this isn’t a school, you can’t just walk in here and demand to see someone without an appointment. Mr Suh is the head of this company, not someone you can just meet without an agreement from him. Please leave this instance,” she said, her tone high pitched enough to gather everyone’s attention, you swore you heard someone laughing a few feet away.

“But...

“That’s my guest, Ms Park.”

You whipped your head back to see Johnny standing behind you. But instead of his usual warm honey eyes, his eyes were a cold and staring daggers into the woman in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Suh. I’ll get back to my work now,” the woman bowed apologetically, going as far as doing it numerous times.

“I’m going to need a key card for her, Ms Park. Send it up to me when you’re done,” Johnny said, but his eyes were scanning the crowd, his employees immediately went back to what they were doing, the large lobby void of any sound other than people rushing to the lift lobby to escape the scene.

Johnny placed a hand behind your back and guided you to the lift lobby after most of the people have taken the ride up to their respective floors.

“I’m sorry,” you said after the coast was clear.

Johnny’s intimidating stance broke as confusion takes over his face.

“What are you sorry for?” Johnny asked, he should be the one saying sorry.

“I’m such an embarrassment, coming here in my jeans and jacket with a canvas bag, looking like a kid,” you said, fingers nervously tugging the straps of your old bag.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nothing’s wrong with being young and dressing your age. They’re just grumpy from all the work. Don’t take their words into account, and you look great. Perfection as always,” Johnny said reassuringly, hands placed on your shoulder, the warmth of his palms calming you slightly.

“No....

You buried your face into your hands as he patted your head, you sneakily glanced up to see him smiling at you with a toothy grin. But you quickly regained posture as you saw an elevator door open with many pairs of legs.

Johnny wasn’t going in even though the lift was going up, that’s when people in the lift realised it was him, and quickly came out of the lift, saying sorry and greeting Johnny.

Johnny guided you in after the lift was cleared empty. His staff looking at you curiously, you weren’t used to having so many pairs of eyes on you, their curious eyes burning holes into you.

Johnny could sense your anxiousness from the way you were hiding behind his tall figure as the two of you walked into his office, there weren’t many people at that time, given the fact that only direct reports of his business partners came up to hand in documents.

You only felt yourself loosen up a bit after you took a seat on Johnny’s armchair in his huge office, overlooking Seoul’s skyline and the cars that were buzzing about on the roads. The view made you calm down a bit from the journey coming up here.

You felt the chair dip as Johnny took a seat on its armrest, his hands coming up to give your shoulders a nice massage. Johnny smiled at the way your eyes lit up from his comforting touch as you looked back to smile at him, he felt a warm feeling deep in his belly as he takes in your beautiful features and the warmth of your shoulders on his fingertips. But as he puts more pressure onto your shoulders, you wince slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Did your boss at work make you lift heavy stuff again?” Johnny asked, his hands ceased all movements, fearing that he would hurt you again.

You automatically thought of your fight with your father last night, it might be because of the force exerted from when he had pushed you.

“N-no, I just didn’t sleep well last night. I watched a horror movie and had a nightmare,” you lied, not knowing how he would react if you told him the truth.

“Be careful when watching these movies, Y/N. If you went to work and your boss really made you move heavy things today, then you would’ve strain your muscles,” Johnny said, going back to massaging your shoulders, but this time gently applying pressure on that spot, rubbing it in clockwise circles to ease the pain.

“I’m fine, Johnny. Didn’t you have work to rush? I don’t want to keep you away from important matters. And my shoulders feel much better now,” you said, moving away from his hands even though you could’ve let him do that forever, it felt so comforting, borderline addictive.

“Okay, I’ll tend to your shoulders again later.” Johnny said as he lays his head on top of yours, a gesture that he had came up with whenever he wanted to show affection to you without crossing uncharted territories, your heart sped up whenever he does that.

You were just sitting on the couch reading one of your old books when you looked up and saw Johnny frowning at his laptop, you placed your book down and made your way to Johnny.

“Don’t frown like that, you’ll get frown lines when you’ll get older, it’ll spoil your handsome face,” you joked.

Your hands reach out to smooth the creases on his forehead, a smile coming back to Johnny’s face.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your busy hand into his, lightly tracing the area between your thumb and your index finger.

“What’s bothering you?” you asked, unbeknownst to you, your lips were unconsciously set in a pout.

“There’s some documents that are supposed to be sent to my office in Chicago, but the English that’s written here isn’t up to standards, I’m worried the staff there won’t understand what the document is stating. I don’t mind correcting it, but I have other things to tend to as well,” Johnny explained to you.

“Can I take a look at it? I had Cambridge classes for 8 years. Guess it’s finally coming in handy. I mean only if you think I’m capable, I don’t want you to think I’m boasting or anything, I just really wanna help...

“Y/N, sweet, I trust you. Just let me get you a laptop,” he said before dialling to his secretary.

Once Johnny sent the files to that laptop, you started correcting some grammatical errors and replaced some terms that weren’t as professional, when Johnny was done with his meeting, you were done with the documents as well.

“Here, take a look. There might be mistakes,” you said after sending him the files back.

“You were reading ‘me before you’, I think you’re fine, Y/N,” Johnny deadpanned.

“Just take a look, just in case,” you pleaded, doe eyes capturing his heart. Nodding, Johnny smiles, doing as you said.

Johnny scanned through the documents, his eyes lighting up brighter after each sentence, a proud smile making way on his face. When he was done, he pulled you close by the waist, and gave you a warm hug, his head nuzzling into your sweater.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I thought I needed to work overtime because of this,” he said, his voice was slightly muffled by the cotton.

“You’re welcome. You can always send me these files when I’m not here, I don’t want you to overwork yourself,” you offered.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Wanna grab lunch? I can hear your stomach rumbling,” Johnny asked after pulling away, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, as you hit Johnny’s shoulders lightly for his teasing, a smile creeping up your face.

“No, I’m not...

“Come on, I know this really nice French restaurant around the corner...

“Johnny I have the file you were...

Doyoung stops in his tracks as he sees you and Johnny being so close to each other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest,” Doyoung apologises, but his eyes were still wide in disbelief.

“Doyoung. This is Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung is one of my business partners, his dad was my dad’s business partner so now it’s his turn,” Johnny introduces his friend to you, telling you a bit of his background.

You gave Doyoung a tiny bow and soft hello, nerves wrecking up at meeting someone you often see on telly whenever their company has a press conference. You could sense an air of discomfort as Doyoung gives you a questioning look.

“You can just put the files on my desk Doyoung. I’ll take a look at them after my lunch break.”

When the evening rolled in, Johnny had to drive you home before your mom questioned your whereabouts.

“I really enjoyed having you by my side today, Y/N,” Johnny said sincerely after pulling up outside the gated area.

“I should be the one thanking you, I can’t believe those snails cost so much, yet you won’t let me pay you back whenever we have meals together,” you retorted, recalling how your eyes almost flew out of their sockets when you stole a glance at the bill.

“Money is not an issue, Y/N. I told you that many times before,” Johnny reminded you.

“I’ll see you on Saturday?” you asked, changing the subject before he offers to buy you a house or something.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, chuckling at how you diverted his attention.

Johnny unlocked the doors of his car, but right before you pulled onto the handle, Johnny pulled your arm, the place where one of the bigger bruises were located at, making you wince at the unexpected pain.

“Y/N I wanted to ask, wait. Are you in pain? Are you hurt? Did I accidentally hurt you?” Johnny asked his eyes wide in worry.

Before you could protest, Johnny pushed up the sleeves of your sweater, revealing the big ugly bruise on your upper arm, and several others that went downwards until your wrist.

You looked up at Johnny, scanning his face that was frozen in shock, eyes not believing what he’s seeing. His fingers gently tracing every bruise, his other hand rotating your arm gently, to see if there’s more.

“Y/N... Who did this to you?” Johnny questioned, but deep down in his gut, he’s sure it’s who he thinks it is.

“No one, Johnny. I just fell down when I woke up,” you said, lying through your teeth, you didn’t want to, but that was your survival instinct whenever someone asks about your parents.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N, it’s them isn’t it? They hit you. Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny demanded, he questions why you don’t trust him, was he not worthy in your eyes?

“It’s nothing, Johnny. Goodnight,” you said in a breath before turning away.

You quickly got out of his car and ran to your lift lobby, Johnny was following behind you. But before he could step into the premise, you shut the glass door which could only be opened with a security card on him, mouthing the words sorry before you made your way into a lift.

Johnny banged at the door, shouting for you to come back, before the security guards asked him to leave. He could feel a prickle in his heart as he sees the bruises in his head, the image fresh. He felt red hot anger boiling in his heart, he was going to get you out of that horrible place, no matter what it takes.

[def-initely-soul]

house rules {1}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 26.3k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

.

.

The clock on the other side of the wall keeps ticking, each second driving you closer to madness over the insistent sound.

You click your pen open and closed. Open and closed. Open and closed.

And yet you still have no freaking clue on how to begin this godawful novel.

Godawful as in the mere effort it takes for it to come to life is starting to make you want to flick yourself off from a window.

Like, god, you’ve been staring at an empty piece of paper for almost two hours now, your coffee’s gone cold.

And yeah you write in paper. No laptop, no typewriter, just you, your pen and a currently empty piece of paper. It seems more direct, more intimate this way. Put you in front of a blank screen and your brain will surely follow it.

Although, today it doesn’t seem like you have much luck with paper either.

With a tired sigh, you rest your mighty pen on your desk, taking out your noise-cancelling earbuds and stand up from your chair.

You stretch out your limbs, your back already killing you from hunching over your desk for two hours now and you trudge over to the living room where the rest of your friends are having a movie night.

“Guys, the old crone decided to join us…” Hoseok comments from his side of the small couch as you drag your feet to your designated spot beside Jimin on the big couch.

“Quick, hide your popcorn, and hide your jelly beans!” Seokjin joins in on the mocking as Jimin scans through Netflix for a decent movie none of you has seen yet.

You know you’ll end up watching Dirty Dancing again because the chances of finding a movie none of you has seen yet are nearly non-existent.

 “Ha, ha, your superior sense of humour is astounding…” you mumble as you sit cross-legged on the couch and Ana turns to you from her spot next to Hoseok.

“No luck with the novel still huh?” her eyes are looking at you sympathetically and you grumble a response, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, it’ll come to you eventually,” Seokjin says, stretching his hand from his armchair to your right to nudge your knee and you let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs once he retracts it.

Jimin gives you a side glance before his eyes return to the screen. “Yeah, until she gets a different idea and the cycle repeats itself.”

“Hey!” you lightly punch your best friend in the ribs, earning a groan from him, “I just have to find a way to start this bloody thing and then it’ll turn out to be the greatest book in the century, you’ll see!” you defend your cause, eyes wide and challenging on Jimin who simply smiles at you with a winning smirk.

“That’s more like it…” he replies, the glint in his eyes your only hint giving away the intention behind his words and again you groan. Refusing to let the smile on your lips appear.

“I hate you when you do that…” you mumble, a small note of fondness only Jimin can distinguish, hiding in your voice as he finally picks his choice of a film with a smile hanging from his lips.

“Shh, the movie’s starting!” Ana interrupts everyone when -surprise surprise- Dirty Dancing starts playing. All of you have a certain liking towards the movie- I mean what’s not to like? Summer romance? Patrick Swayze with half-open shirts? Heated dancing? With Patrick Swayze?- but you can say for certain Ana takes the cake as a Dirty Dancing fan.

“How can you still be this much excited for this movie?” Hoseok comments from beside her and even though he sounds judgey there’s only lovesick fondness in his eyes when he looks at Ana.

Although when Ana turns to look at her boyfriend, she looks completely serious. “Keep this up and no sex for a month. We don’t condone this kind of behaviour in this house.”

You and Jimin try to suppress your giggles as Hoseok’s eyes widen in fear. “You can’t do that, what about you?!”

Ana simply smiles back with too much sweetness. “My hands aren’t just good for making you cum, babe.”

Disgusted protests come from the rest of the group as you’re sure you won’t ever be able to unhear this.

“Why, why did we have to hear that?” Jimin complains as Seokjin makes a gagging sound next to him.

Hoseok just smiles. “Oh, come on Jimin, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy tapping this hot piece of ass!” and another round of puking sounds emerges in the room.

Truth is Ana didn’t date Hoseok in the beginning. In reality, she got added to your group only after she started going out with Jimin in the second year of college. And even though she and Jimin didn’t work out in the end, she had already become an essential part of your group and they even remained great friends after the breakup.

Not long after that Hoseok asked her out. And you swear no couple ever made more sense than those two. Although you really hate when they get down and dirty in Hoseok’s room which is right next to yours.

You first started living with Hoseok and Jimin in the first year of college, five years ago. Jimin was a guy you barely knew from high school but he was the greatest of options you had when looking to share an apartment with someone. You didn’t want to live in a dorm but it wasn’t like your parents were rich or something, so there was no way for them to afford an apartment just for you. So looking for a roommate was the best solution.

Hoseok came a little bit afterwards. You and he shared a class and you became friends fairly quickly. So when he told you the situation at his dorm was unbearable, you couldn’t help but think of the empty bedroom in your apartment. And the rest is history.

Seokjin became a part of your group only months before Ana did. He and Jimin worked at the same part-time job as waiters in a local restaurant. And while Seokjin went forward to run his own restaurant and Jimin followed his passion as a dance instructor their friendship persevered. So it wasn’t long before he joined your group.

And it wasn’t long before you got this stupid crush on him.

Not that it matters anyway. He doesn’t know and you don’t plan on ever telling him to be honest. You know how easily things could go wrong and you’re fine with simply being his friend.

“Okay, babe, that’s enough for now…” Ana quiets down her boyfriend with a small kiss on his lips and finally pipes down to focus on Patrick Swayze’s biceps.

Your eyes rest on the screen as another exhausted sigh escapes you. This novel is your chance of having something of yours published. What if you can’t make it in time? What if it’s shit? What if you finally realize after all this time that being a writer was never what you were supposed to be and all those years believing that were in vain? What if-?

Your thoughts get interrupted when you feel a palm laying across your knee and squeezing it gently.

The fog in your head clears a bit when you find Jimin looking at you with a soft smile. One that tells you not to worry. Jimin could always read you like a book so it’s no surprise he could sense you spiralling.

And it’s not a surprise that with a single look he can calm down your racing thoughts.

He’s one of your closest friends after all.

.

.

“Hoseok you can’t keep using Ana’s departure as an excuse to not help with cleaning up!” you yell towards the couple saying goodbye at the front door, while Seokjin giggles as he dries out some of your plates.

“Shut up, you heathen, this is true love we’re talking about! Also, I can and I will!” your roommate yells back and you roll your eyes. On the other side of the room, Jimin picks up several empty beer cans as Ana kisses her boyfriend.

“Go on, babe, before they drive a stick through your ass,” she chuckles.

Hoseok pouts, the gesture almost etched to his features by now. “Oh, and you haven’t even done it that thing you wanted yet!”

“Again keep your weird sexual life out of this god-respected household,” Jimin comments and at once everyone turns to stare at him confused.

He stares back before, “Okay, yeah, I just heard it…” then he proceeds to take the trash out.

Ana chuckles before pressing another kiss on Hoseok’s lips. “Okay, I’m off. Bye guys!” to which you all respond with a chorus of “byes”.

Hoseok closes the door with a dreamy sigh before trekking over to the kitchen island to watch as you and Seokjin clean up. “Is it weird that I miss her already?”

Seokjin coos at the same time you react too. Although your reaction comes closer to a gagging sound and now both of them look at you like you just kicked a puppy.

You clear your throat, “oh, I- I meant… ''awww”...” you reply quickly, avoiding their stares to clean up the rest of the plates.

“Don’t mind her Hobi, she's just jealous,” Seokjin comments as he rests his towel on his shoulder.

At that, you scoff. You’re not jealous! You just hate corny things!

“Jealous? Pff. Who says they miss someone right after they leave? That’s just cheesy! I mean, yeah, you and Ana are perfect for each other, you’re cute together and you complete each other, and there’s intimacy and feelings and mutual respect…” your voice becomes sadder at the end and ultimately fades out, leaving you staring at the floor.

Where were you going with this?

The guys look at you with knowing glances and you groan out loud.

“Oh, shut your faces. I’m not jealous!” “Who’s not jealous?” Jimin asks once he’s back into the apartment.

“Y/N, of our relationship,” Hoseok’s quick to respond.

“Yours and mine?” Jimin queries.

Hoseok rolls his eyes but he responds in all seriousness “No, Ana’s and mine.”

Jimin just shrugs. “Makes more sense.”

Your eyes narrow and you scoff. “No, it doesn’t because I’m not jealous!”

Seokjin places his palm on your shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find someone someday to be grumpy with.”

You pick his hand and drop it off your shoulder. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Besides I got my novel to write, I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

“Oh, I’d marry rich if I was expecting anything of that novel!” Hoseok comments with a laugh but everyone freezes, including you. Is that what he really thinks? That you’re not gonna make it?

All of you turn to look at him, but Hoseok remains oblivious of your stares for a few moments. But when he realizes you’re all looking at him, he looks confused.

“What?” he asks, visibly perplexed.

Jimin’s eyes widen, disbelief in his voice. “Dude!”

Hoseok shrugs though his eyes widen in almost fear. “It was a joke!” his voice is one pitch higher as slight traces of panic are evident in his words. When no one responds, he turns to you, desperation and honesty in his eyes. “Y/N, really, it was just a joke.”

You stare for a moment too long, before you nod, giving him a smile to spare him from his misery, deciding to not let such a simple comment affect you. “Yeah, yeah, I know, of course!”

“I didn’t mean any of that okay? It was a stupid joke!” Hoseok nearly screeches, regret in his words as he doesn’t seem at all convinced by your answer.

You force a laugh to calm him down.

“Hobi, I’m fine! Don’t worry too much,” you smile at him, patting him on the back and moving to put the plates Seokjin dried out to their respective cabinets.

He still doesn’t seem convinced and he’s ready to pester you some more before Seokjin intervenes, sensing you’re starting to feel uncomfortable with all the attention. “Anyways, Hoseok you said you wanted my opinion on something?”

Hoseok’s attention turns to Seokjin once he speaks up. “Ah yeah! Actually, my three-year anniversary with Ana is coming up and I’m all out of ideas,” he responds sheepishly as he rubs the base of his neck.

“Ehm, hello? I’m her best friend, why don’t you ask me?” you complain, putting your hands on your waist with one eyebrow cocked up.

“Y/N your most serious relationship lasted two months and it ended because you fought over which peanut butter spread is the best,” Hoseok raises an eyebrow at you as he and Seokjin walk over to the couch, trying to brainstorm ideas.

“I’m sorry but whoever thinks smooth is better than crunchy is simply not human,” the memory sends a shudder through you and you look at Jimin for confirmation and he’s quick to nod his head and agree.

“Oh, yeah, that relationship had no future after that,” he washes his hands at the sink as he looks over to Hoseok who simply giggles.

“Okay, yeah, I can give you that one. But you really have no idea of relationships, so I’m sorry but I’m not taking any suggestions,” he softens the blow with a flying kiss in your direction.

You scoff, indignant. “Rude. True but rude!” you admit as you finally place the last of the plates in its place. Hoseok and Seokjin are now deep in conversation, throwing one idea after the other and if he decides to go with any of these, you’re sure Ana will dump him before he gets the chance to utter “break up sex”.

Seeing as there’s nothing else left for you to do, you decide to head off to sleep, making a mental note to talk to Hoseok about his date ideas and salvage whatever you can.

“Okay, I’m going to bed, goodnight guys!” you wave them goodnight before turning to the hallway when Jimin comes towards you.

“I’ll walk with you,” he says, following you into the corridor.

You walk in silence, not that it’s weird or anything. You and Jimin have reached that point in a friendship where you don’t have to fill the silence to be comfortable around each other. You could be in the same room, doing completely different things, not talking at all, and still, you wouldn’t feel the need to fill the silence.

Once you reach both of your rooms, as they are right across from one another, you ready to say goodnight when Jimin interrupts you.

“Ah, wait…” he stops you just as you reach for your doorknob and you turn around. “What is it?”

He sighs before, “look, I know you know Hoseok didn’t mean any of that but I also know words tend to get into your head…” he begins, voice gentle and eyes cautious on you as you fidget on your spot uncomfortably.

“And I just want to say-”

“What?” you cut him off with a tired sigh, “everything will turn out okay? That suddenly I’m gonna be blessed with divine inspiration when I least expect it?” you give him a weak smile, crossing your hands on your chest.

What you don’t expect is Jimin to laugh. “No, no, all of that is just a pile of crap!” he chuckles and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

“I wanted to say that whatever goes through that little mind of yours shouldn’t keep you from writing. That’s what you do, you write! And, yeah, some of it may come out as complete bullshit, but that’s just how it has to go before you get better,” he says simply, voice filled to the brim with honesty and you rest your eyes at your feet, suddenly feeling very self-aware.

“Because I know you’re gonna get better. You just need a push,” he finally smiles softly at you, warmness spreading through your heart as if his smile is a portable heater, radiating warmth to the people closest to it.

“Thanks…” you mumble back, letting your eyes find him to truly express how thankful you are.

You aren’t good with expressing your feelings, not when it’s not on top of a piece of paper. Everyone knows this, Jimin even more so. You know you don’t have to say anything for him to understand how you truly feel.

And so he smiles back and nods as if to say “you’re welcome”.

And for a few moments, you stay like that. Both of you leaning on your doors, staring at each other as another silence fills the corridor.

But this one is different. Still comfortable but there’s something else hanging in the air. It’s the way you look at each other, basking in each other’s presence, comfortable and not ready to say goodnight yet.

It’s the way Jimin’s looking at you. Smile slightly fading as his eyes remain on your face, ever serious, ever intense as if they’re saying something his lips can’t, something you can’t quite understand, something that makes you feel-

Jimin breaks the stuffed silence with a shake of his head. “Anyways, um… goodnight, Y/N…” he says, voice thick with something and his words seem to revive you as well as he opens the door to quickly go into his room.

“Ah, yeah, goodnight, Jimin,” you reply casually before you enter your bedroom and close the door behind you.

That felt… weird.

As much as you try to put a name to what you felt out there, you can’t. The situation felt too foreign, too much for your drunk mind to comprehend.

You shake your head, passing it off to the many beers you had and without giving it much of another thought you go to sleep.

.

.

Although, three weeks pass after that talk and you still can’t get it out of your mind.

You figured you would’ve forgotten about it by now, blaming it on the amount of alcohol you had consumed that night but no. Those last few moments before you parted in the middle of your hallway still linger in the crevices of your mind, not unlike a bunch of vultures scavenging for prey.

Even now, at Seokjin’s birthday party, it’s all you can think about instead of paying attention to the birthday boy himself and the subject of your affections. If he even knew you weren’t focusing on him on his own birthday party he would flip.

Did Jimin want to say something to you? It seemed so but since then he’s made no indication as to show he wants to talk to you. It’s been three weeks and there was no other talk of that weird conversation outside your bedrooms. No sign that it ever happened. You wonder what was going through his mind at that time. You wonder what he’s thinking about it now, if he even thinks about it still like you.

“Earth to Y/N! Hello?” a floating hand breaks your inner monologue, Ana looking at you with scrunched eyebrows and a glare to match. The two of you are currently alone amidst the crowd of partygoers as Ana dragged you aside to excitedly tell you about the amazing anniversary Hoseok had planned for them, last Saturday. You guess you lost focus somewhere in the middle.

“What?” your voice gets defensive and Ana’s glare seems more intimidating as seconds pass by.

“You stopped listening!” she slaps you lightly on the arm and a yelp comes out of your lips as a form of protest.

“I didn’t!” you try to defend your guilty self as you rub the afflicted spot.

“Yeah, no, I thought so at first “Y/N would never just stop listening” so I started casually throwing Seokjin’s name into the conversation, that always worked like a charm to get you to focus, but you still didn’t listen!” she retaliates and you shrink back in shame.

“Sorry…” you mumble in all honesty, biting your lip in embarrassment. “But I heard the most important parts!” you perk up, “And the whole concert then cooking at home date idea was really insightful and cute! And full disclosure, if I hadn’t interfered and let Hoseok listen to Seokjin, you would’ve ended up at a screening of cats!” you shake your finger at her and she giggles out loud.

“Although I gotta admit, Hoseok cleaned up really well on its own…” you smile at her and she nods with a dreamy sigh before taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh, and you have to thank me for stopping Hoseok from using his “free Hoseok love” coupon as a gift.”

Ana’s eyes widen in grave seriousness. “Oh, he did use that…”

You wince at that. “Oh god, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t fret too much about it, he also bought me that cute pair of boots I wanted!” she pats you on the back before she bites her lip as a child that’s about to get scolded, “~and… I also kind of enjoyed it…” she says with a wink and you roll your eyes at your friend.

“The leather ones that were really expensive?” she had rumbled over the course of a week about how she fell in love with those boots but their relationship would’ve never worked (in simpler words she couldn’t afford them).

She nods at you. “Marry him,” you respond with urgency and Ana laughs at you.

But as her giggles die down her face turns solemn once more.

“Are you okay though? It’s not like you to not pay attention, even more so when it’s about Seokjin…” she says with a chuckle at the end, yet her eyes remain cautious and you sigh.

“Yeah, it’s just that Jimin-”

“Y/N, wait… I’m sorry but you do realise that I was talking about Seokjin, right?” her stare is a bit weirded out, “and that we’re currently at his birthday party and you choose to hang out with me instead of talking to him?” she skillfully observes, making you feel uncomfortable at how her words trigger something you haven’t acknowledged before and you’re certainly not ready to do so now.

You shrug. “I guess I don’t know what to say…” you choose to say instead, hoping it’s enough of an excuse to get out of this conversation.

“What do you mean? You never had a problem with that before…” she counters, genuinely confused at your bizarre behaviour and you press your lips in a tight line as you shrug once more, not really knowing how to address that.

At your hesitation to breach the subject, something seems to click in Ana’s mind and she sighs in realization.

“Can I tell you what I think without you getting all grumpy and defensive?” she asks, eyes careful and hands in the air as if to pacify you. You shrug again, albeit a bit curious about what she has to say.

“I don’t think you really like Seokjin- ah, ah! Let me finish!” she shushes you when you begin protesting, “I mean not anymore, it was pretty obvious you were crazy into him when I first met you but now…” she takes a breath, eyes looking at you wearily as she prepares for the finishing blow, “now I think you cling into the idea of liking him because it’s comfortable. Because it’s easier to fall back into the safety net of liking someone and not doing anything about it than making yourself deal with the fear and uncertainty that comes with meeting someone new.”

Your cheeks flush as you stare at her, feeling vulnerable as if someone cut you open and went through your most inner thoughts, even when you feel like there’s something else that neither you nor she hasn’t been able to pinpoint.

Ana’s observation finally put what you’ve been feeling for a while into words. You haven’t realized it but the more you think about it, the more sense it makes.

And yet you still stubbornly act like it’s not the case at all.

“I… I’m not afraid to meet new people…” your protest is as weak as your voice and Ana looks at you unimpressed and thoroughly unconvinced.

“Really? Then you’ll have no problem talking to Seokjin’s friend from high school,” she points at the tall, blond hunk with the glasses and the cute dimples currently chatting with Seokjin.

“Namjoon?! Are you nuts?! He’s way out of my league!” you screech in panic. Namjoon is a sight to be held and in your opinion, people should pay to see him up close. Would that be considered a fucked up way of prostitution? You’re not sure.

Ana rolls her eyes. “First of all, “leagues” aren’t a thing and second of all, you’re totally scared boo!” she says plainly with a victorious grin and you flinch instinctively.

“I’m not! I just don’t have time for a relationship!” you say, still trying to get out of this conversation even though Ana doesn’t seem at all deterred.

“No one talked about a relationship, you baboon, it could be just sex. But, out of simple curiosity, how long has it been since you had sex? Seven, eight months?” she retaliates, in all ways but physical backing you up into a corner.

You groan, hiding your flaming face behind your hands.

“This is the perfect opportunity to hook up with someone and never having to talk to them again for the rest of your life. No strings attached, no awkward first dates, no phone calls. Just one night of drunken sex to get you to relax a bit and who knows? Maybe it’ll help you get your inspiration back,” she concludes with a tilt of her head. And the more you think about it, the more you realize she’s right about everything. About Seokjin, about using him as a distraction, about needing to relax and this being the perfect opportunity for it. It’s been a while since you’ve felt any sort of attraction for Seokjin. No excitement or accelerated heartbeat, no sweaty hands, no unbearable giddiness when he decides to throw a visit.

You guess somewhere along the way those feelings faded out, giving place to the love and comfort that comes out of a years-long friendship. You’re not attracted to him anymore.

And Ana’s suggestion does seem kind of appealing. You suppose some sex would help you get rid of all the nerves that come with writing a book.

And Namjoon is kinda hot. Okay, scratch “kinda”, “unbearably hot” is more fitting.

You just worry if he’ll able to surpass the last time you had sex. For some reason, you’re almost convinced he won’t.

“Okay, you’re right, I’ll do it,” at that Ana squeals and claps her hands happily.

“But I have to talk to Seokjin first,” you continue, resulting in a confused expression masking Ana’s face.

“What? Why?”

You shrug. “I spent those four years crushing on him, I feel like I need some kind of closure,” you chuckle and Ana stares at you dumbfounded before she shakes her head.

“Fine, do what you have to, but don’t take too long! Namjoon is like a walking modelling billboard, most of the people in this party have their eyes on him. Boy, if I wasn’t dating Hoseok would we be doing things right now…” she reveals as she stares at the man in question while biting her lip and you stare at her disapprovingly.

“What? I said if,” she says as if abdicating all blame and you shake your head at her with a laugh. Hoseok wouldn’t mind and to be honest they’d probably be talking about how to convince Namjoon for a threesome.

“Okay, I’m going, wish me luck,” you announce as you begin making your way towards Seokjin.

“What you need is alcohol, not luck,” Ana yells at you as she goes to find her boyfriend and you give her one last smile before turning your attention to the birthday boy.

Only now realizing what you’re about to do and, great, your hands are trembling. Maybe you did need some alcohol.

But it’s too late to make a run for it when Seokjin spots you and a smile graces his lips.

“Y/N! Come over here! You know Namjoon right?” he rushes to include you into the conversation, eyes wide with hidden meaning as he nudges you towards Namjoon and the man with the dimples smiles at you.

“Ah, yeah, we’ve met before. How are you?” you smile back at him and the longer he smiles, the deeper his dimples become and the more adorable he is.

“Can’t complain. How about you?” he chuckles, the sound almost illegal, as he pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Oh, right, he also has a deep and mellifluous voice. How is this man not famous for something?

“Pretty well I’d say. Um, do you mind if I steal the birthday boy for a bit? There’s something I need to talk to him about…” your hand is already dragging a confused Seokjin away, even if you’d rather be doing that to the other boy.

Namjoon blinks at you, as perplexed as Seokjin before “Ah, yeah, sure…”

“Thanks!” you yell over the music, although you’re sure the man mustn’t have heard you as you’re already making your way down the corridor towards the back of Seokjin’s apartment.

“Ugh, Y/N? What’s going on?” Seokjin’s voice is beyond weirded out as you finally reach his bedroom, that’s off-limits for the party. You push him in and close the door behind you.

“Sorry, I just needed some privacy for what I’m about to do…” you admit with shaking hands as Seokjin’s eyes widen in fear and confusion.

You take a breath before fixing your posture and stare bravely at the man in front of you. “This may come as a shock to you but I…” you take one final breath, “I used to like you-” you begin, dreading the moment Seokjin decides this is too odd for him.

“I know.”

Seokjin’s voice takes you by surprise as your mind processes the words that just left his mouth, a different kind of dread overwhelming you.

He knows?

“What? What do you mean you know?” your voice comes out offended, as Seokjin puts down his drink with a sigh and turns to look at you.

“I mean I know. You weren’t exactly subtle with the stares and all…” he comments calmly although your mouth falls open to join your feet at the ground at the absurdity of the situation.

He knows. All this time, he knew?!

“Well, why didn’t you say something?” you throw the words at him accusingly and he rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you! I figured since you hadn’t said anything that you didn’t want to act on it so I never said anything either!” he defends himself, voice high-pitched in true Seokjin fashion.

“Oh my god, that’s so embarras- Wait,” you cut yourself when his words strike you as odd and another thought makes itself known in your mind. “You mean that if I had said something…?” you look at him weirdly and Seokjin sighs, eyes already confirming your suspicions.

“I might… not have said no to a date…” he admits, scratching his ears and your mouth drops open.

You could have dated the Kim Seokjin and you didn’t because you were too scared to make a move?

Wow, your past-self would be seriously pissed at you.

Seokjin rushed to explain. “But that was back then when I didn’t know you that well!”

You gasp at the offence, crossing your arms on your chest. “You mean now that you do know me, I'm not that dateable, Kim Seokjin?!”

He groans, rubbing a palm over his face. “I just meant that back then I was willing to risk our friendship because we weren’t that close in the first place! But now we’ve been friends for almost half a decade and even though you are extremely dateable” he says with a roll of his eyes but you’re still satisfied, “I just can’t see you in that way. And even if I did I wouldn’t be willing to risk our friendship over something like that,” he concludes with a sigh.

“Oh,” you reply simply, satisfied with his answer before you continue.

“Well, that’s good actually, because I just wanted to tell you that whatever those feelings were… they’re gone now. So I just… wanted to come clean I guess…” you admit softly, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

“So, we’re okay?” Seokjin asks with hope and you smile, lightly punching his arm. You find yourself relieved after Seokjin’s confession and you know you’ll be fine.

“We’re okay,” you nod and Seokjin smiles back.

“That punch was lame,” he retorts and you gasp. “Do you want me to punch you for real, you masochist?”

His smile widens. “No, you freak of nature, I want a hug!”

Immediately, you begin protesting. “No, no, no, no, no. No hugs, you know this!” you begin moving away from him as he comes closer with a predatory grin. You absolutely hate hugs. They’re unnecessary long and intimate, you never know where to put your hands and you always end up having someone’s hair in your mouth.

Seokjin pouts as he nearly chases you into the hallway. “Come on, I just found out I’m not your crush anymore! Do you know how much of a hit is that to my ego!?” he says, standing in front of you, effectively blocking your way to freedom.

You sigh, already regretting, the words you’re about to say but seeing no other way out.

“Fine, but you have to promise me to not tell anyone! I have a reputation to upkeep!” you yield, shaking a threatening finger at him but his grin only grows bigger.

“Deal!” he squeals, eager to grasp this rare chance of affection from you, seeing as he has tried numerous times to get a hug from you but being unsuccessful. Till now that is.

His hands wrap around you in a soul and bone-crushing hug as your arms end up being squished between your bodies. You try to control the smile on your lips as you struggle to break your arms free and wrap them around his impossibly wide shoulders. Actually, this doesn’t feel so bad. It feels like being enveloped in a giant, fuzzy blanket. If that blanket had an unquenchable thirst for strawberry shortcakes.

A few moments pass before you begin to pull back. “Okay, you giant carebear, that’s enough,” you giggle as Seokjin retracts his hands.

“Now, wasn’t that refreshing?”

“If I let you know, I’ll have to kill you,” you mumble fixing your clothes and Seokjin’s trademark laugh echoes throughout the corridor, making your smile grow.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he throws you a cheeky wink.

You shake your head at him with a laugh before another thought crosses your mind and you bite your lip. “So… about Namjoon…”

Seokjin’s mind instantly follows your train of thought but he lets out a surprising -to say the least- groan. “Seriously?”

You find his reaction a bit too odd for your liking. “Why?”

“Uhm, you dragged me away to my bedroom at my own birthday party. He probably thinks we jumping uglies right now,” he fixes you with a disappointed stare. Fuck, you didn’t think of that.

You grunt in frustration. “Great, now what?”

Seokjin’s eyes glint when he comes up with yet another brilliant idea. “If we split we’ll find him faster!” he exclaims enthusiastically and your eyes widen.

“Genius thinking!” you declare before you sprint down the hallway, the both of you looking for Namjoon.

.

.

You would think it would be easy finding Namjoon in an apartment as small as Seokjin’s. But it’s not. It’s anything but.

When you finally do find him after almost 40 minutes looking for his perfect ass, it’s with his mouth stuck against another person’s neck so any hopes for a one-night-stand are going down the drain. So instead you resort to drinking the rest of Seokjin’s sparkling rosé collection until you have to pee your weight in alcohol.

You abandon the living room where the party is still going strong, in search of the holy grail that is Seokjin’s bathroom right now, hoping you get to relieve your misery.

But as you approach the door, you fail to register the voices coming from inside. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to live through the impending embarrassment.

Instead, you bust the door open in your haste to pee, but all of that goes to shit once you see Jimin inside the bathroom. Or, more precisely, Jimin’s mouth sucking on the pulse of some blonde’s girl neck -who feels oddly familiar- like he’s a fucking vampire.

Your eyes widen, meeting with fear Jimin’s livid ones before “OhmygodImsorrypretendthisneverhappened!” you yell in one breath, anxious to get out of there as fast as possible and before Jimin gets the chance to curse at you, you close the door and disappear down the hallway.

Ugh, oh my god, why are you so awkward?

You rub your hands on your face as you walk down the corridor, wondering where you’re supposed to pee now. Couldn’t they bone at Seokjin’s room? 

Though, among your thoughts emerges one particular one that makes you stop dead in your tracks as you finally realize why that girl seemed familiar.

She wasn’t just some random girl. No, she was a very specific blonde girl, one that happens to be the pure personification of evil on the face of the earth, one that you’re sure hides horns beneath that perfect hair.

Jimin’s ex, the girl who manipulated and abused him repeatedly, the girl who broke up with him nearly a year ago to be with someone else, after he caught her cheating. The girl who broke his heart.

Dinah.

Fuck.

.

.

You remember the first time you met Dinah, although she hadn’t left any particular impression on you. She was a high school friend of Taehyung, with whom Seokjin shared some classes with and were kinda close. It was your fourth year in college when Taehyung was still hanging with you guys before he found a job opportunity overseas and left. Now he texts every now and then or visits even more rarely.

Seokjin’s birthday party is one of those rare visits, hence why Dinah was also present last night.

The first time you met her, almost two years ago, was in a scheduled study group in one of the local cafes. It was you, Seokjin, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok and Dinah, most of the guys, studying to prepare for their last year through college and Ana couldn’t make it so honestly, you were relieved you had another girl to go through together the boys’ antics.

Although if Ana was there, she would’ve probably spent all of her time being coupley with Hoseok and that kinda defeats the purpose.

Dinah was studying for a math exam and Jimin had offered to help her since she wasn’t very good at it. You didn’t think much of it, mind already going haywire over your new novel idea so you didn’t really pay much attention to anyone.

It had been when Jimin left for the bathroom when you saw her scrolling through her phone that you decided to help her with a problem even Jimin couldn’t quite get.

Only her reaction was a tad bit different then what you’d expected. She had interrupted you even before you got to tell her you wanted to help, with a kinda sharp tone saying she didn’t need your help. You had backed off then, kinda bummed out about it but you could already tell she was into Jimin and wanted his help specifically.

But as you had turned to pay attention back to your novel, your gaze couldn’t help but fall on her open notebook. And there it was, in a hidden corner of the page in messy scribblings the solution to the problem. Her handwriting.

You didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t your cup of tea to hide your intellect to raise the ego of the boy you were into and besides feeling a bit sad for her, you didn’t do anything else. Who were you to judge?

It wasn’t until the two of them started going out that you started feeling some sort of dislike towards her. And not just you, the rest of the group as well.

It was obvious to everyone how shitty she treated Jimin. At first, of course, there were no signs as if to warn you of Dinah's manipulative nature, they were still in the lovey-dovey, honeymoon phase. But as time passed, Dinah’s facade began to crumble. Jimin’s interaction with the opposite sex were limited due to Dinah’s extreme jealousy, which meant you and Ana barely got to be around him, let alone talk to him. Her snide comments and judgey behaviour made him feel inadequate over everything. How he got her the wrong gift, how the movie he chose was stupid, how the restaurant he picked was disgusting, and the list goes on and on.

At first, Jimin tried to talk to her about those things, certain she would understand what she was doing once he’d brought it up. But when you’re in love it’s easier to ignore all the red flags. It’s easier to blame yourself for everything when you can see no fault in the person you’re in love with.

Soon the relationship turned toxic. Dinah became similar to a parasite, sucking the life and happiness out of Jimin, as he fell prey to her every whim. Making him even more insecure in himself when she knew he already had some issues he was trying to work on. But that didn’t deter her. Instead, it gave her leverage, to use all the ugly, little things Jimin thought of himself against him.

At some point, it had gotten so bad Jimin refused to eat.

It was then that all of you tried to intervene.

Unsuccessfully that is.

It had gotten pretty ugly in the span of a few minutes with how angry you and Hoseok were at Dinah and at Jimin’s unwavering loyalty to her. Soon it had become a yelling match between the three of you as Seokjin and Ana had tried to bring some sense to all of you. In retrospect, none of you handled the delicate situation well.

In the end, Jimin had stormed out of the apartment, furious at all four of you, to go to Dinah or to the only one that got him as he had put it.

Only to find her in bed with someone else.

He had come home hours later, stinking of alcohol, telling you what had happened through red eyes, tear-stained cheeks and hiccups.

You had put him to sleep and the next morning Dinah was breaking up with him over the phone.

The next few months were awful. But he survived them. He survived and realised he deserved better, not this hell Dinah made him go through. That wasn’t love.

After all of you encouraged him to talk to someone about everything, Jimin went to a therapist and he came out stronger. Sure, some of the issues were still there but so were the rest of you. He knew you’d be there for him if he ever needed you.

That’s why you’re so pissed this morning.

Ana and Hoseok look at you like you’re a ticking bomb about to explode at any minute from the other side of the kitchen island as you munch on your cereal and send death glares at Dinah, currently sitting on Jimin’s lap on the dining table.

If only “death glare” was a bit more literal.

You can’t understand Jimin. He was supposed to be over this. Doesn’t he remember what she did to him, how miserable he was?

“I haven’t seen you staring so long at something since that time you tried to microwave popcorn with your mind,” Ana’s hushed whispers reach you as not to alert the couple and Hoseok almost sputters out his milk.

“Did it work, though?” Hoseok’s eyes stare at her expectantly and you roll your eyes.

“Not gonna dignify that with a response,” is her cryptic answer.

“Seriously, am I the only one who’s pissed over this?” you say through gritted teeth, the happy couple wholly oblivious to your little conversation. Ana and Hoseok seem too calm, given you have a fucking demon at your dining table.

Ana sighs. “We are too, Y/N, but let’s face it, what can we do about it?”

You look at her in disbelief. “Talk to him?!”

“Yeah, and look at how that worked out last time…”

“They broke up.”

“After he caught her cheating…” her words are slow as if talking to a child, “and it wasn’t even him who initiated the break-up! If Jimin wants to be with her we just have to accept it and be there for him if something happens again,” she concludes, taking a sip of her coffee and you can’t believe your ears. She can’t be serious.

“Hoseok, what’s your say in this?” you ask, rather loudly might you add, so you steal a glance making sure Jimin hasn’t heard.

Hoseok shrugs in answer to your question. “We all know she was the devil incarnate. But maybe she changed. Let’s give her a chance.”

Your mouth hangs open when your last possible ally walks over to enemy territory. “Give her a chance? She’s not Andrew Garfield in the Amazing Spiderman!”

Ana’s expression gives away her utter bafflement. “I have so many questions…”

You shrug. “Everyone hates him but I think he was a great Spiderman.”

Hoseok’s incredulous stare doesn’t last for long. “Anyways, all I’m saying is Jimin went through a lot…”

“So he should know better!” you retort.

Hoseok doesn’t seem amused, “So there must be something that changed his mind! He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself. If he gave her a second chance, so should we.”

Ana nods at her boyfriend’s words and they both return their eyes on you, waiting for confirmation of your part that you’re gonna be nice.

You regard them with an ominous glare, “Traitors…” you mumble before you groan. “Fine. But I’m gonna be watching her every move. Like an owl!”

“I’m fairly positive it’s supposed to be “like a hawk”...?” a confused pout takes over Hoseok’s lips.

Ana chuckles, “It is “like a hawk”.”

Your confusion is evident. “Really? But owls are nocturnal animals, therefore have better eyesight!”

Ana rolls her eyes at you, tired of all the bird talk. “Even so! Please promise you’ll behave!”

You take a deep breath when a shrill laugh echoes throughout the apartment and you can already feel yourself fuming.

“I promise.”

.

.

After the two “lovebirds” have left your apartment for an impromptu date, which the declaration of had you nearly barfing on sight, you crawled back into your room, in search of inspiration, daring to take another shot at your mostly unfinished novel.

You gather your hair up in a messy bun, glasses on top of your nose, iced coffee next to your papers, preparations all ready to freely embark on the raging seas of creativity.

If writing a novel was that easy.

After writing another three chapters, well after the sun has settled in the horizon and your eyes are barely keeping themselves open, a knock thrums against your door. But before you get to reply, the door creaks open and Ana pops up behind it, walking in with observing eyes and a bag of cheddar-flavoured chips.

“Why do you even bother knocking?” you sigh, taking off your glasses to rub your exhausted eyes.

“The knock is a warning, not a request for entry,” she plops on your bed with a smile, crossing her legs on your duvet and pats the space next to her. 

It’s not uncommon to have Ana spending the entire day here, after all, she is one of your closest friends, an elementary part of your group and Hoseok’s girlfriend.

You get up from your desk, limbs aching for the various positions your body has been in the midst of writing, and with a tired smile you sit down next to her.

“No luck with the book still?” she asks, passing you the chips and you hum appreciatively, your tongue already tasting the divine taste of those chips.

“Well, I’ve written some stuff… just not any particularly good stuff,” you munch through the snack with a grubbled noise of satisfaction and Ana nods in understanding at your words, “and honestly that whole “Dinah” thing is infuriatingly distracting! I’m still pissed and I can’t even stop thinking about it.”

“Wait…” Ana interrupts you and if her face says anything is that she just came to a sudden realization. One she doesn’t seem to particularly enjoy.

“Are you sure this isn’t because of…?” her words hang in the air as she regards you with careful eyes, waiting for you to grasp the meaning between her words.

Though you’re none the wiser. “Because of…?” your utter obliviousness is infuriating and Ana groans, rubbing her palms on her face, pinning you with a ridiculous look.

Right then, it’s as if a moment of clarity strikes you and you finally understand what she means.

Your eyes widen in horror.

“What? Ew, no! Why would you even think that?!” you immediately protest, entirely disgusted by the mere notion of what Ana is implying.

She doesn’t seem at all bothered by your extreme reaction. “I’m just saying, it happened!”

“Yeah, eight months ago!” she can’t be serious. There’s no way she actually believes that.

She cocks an eyebrow. “It was also the last time you had sex.”

You let an exhale drop from your lips, as you take a trip down memory lane, all the way back to eight months ago.

It was April, four months or so after Dinah had broken up with Jimin, leaving him a complete wreckage in her absence. It became a group activity, trying to get Jimin back on his feet. Making sure he ate, taking him outside for some fresh air, helping him get out of his funk.

One night, you took him out for drinks in a bar close to home, to help him get over her through alcohol and hopefully some meaningless sex with a stranger. And Although both of those things happened, it wasn’t a stranger lending him a helping hand that night. Or a helping mouth if you want to be accurate.

You had woken up the next morning in his bed due to the unsettling feeling of dread curling in the pit of your stomach. What the hell were you thinking? What if this changed everything? You were best friends and roommates, what now?

But when Jimin woke up, everything seemed to be back to normal. You were relieved things didn’t become weird, his words immediately putting a rest to your worries over your possibly ruined friendship, joking lightly about the whole thing and how the others might react to the whole incident. It wasn’t a big deal because you never let it become one. It was but one night of mindless sex, one that left you both satiated and you could both agree it meant nothing. Jimin just needed some rebound sex and you… well, it had been a while. And you had needs.

Although you did get a lot of teasing from the rest of the group for the next few weeks. That wasn’t anything fond to remember, especially when you were still thinking you were into Seokjin and he had a large part in said teasing.

But that was in the past. You never felt anything for Jimin in the first place.

“It’s not that, okay? She’s just an awful person and I don’t want to even think about the consequences of her doing Jimin dirty again,” your calm voice and demeanour finally convince Ana as she lets out a relieved breath.

“Okay, good. Got scared there for a second, things could get really messy,” she admits with a small smile.

“You don’t have to worry about that. If anything that’s the least of your worries right now,” you say munching on some more chips as you eye the clock on your wall.

Ana looks at you perplexed. “What do you mean?”

You press your lips together. “Hoseok is alone in his room right?”

Ana looks even more baffled now, not sure where you’re going with this. “Yeah…?”

You press your lips in a tight line. “It’s 10 o’clock…” you relay, a sense of urgency in your voice.

Ana’s eyes widen. Hoseok’s latest obsession is watching Glee reruns on TV, which wouldn’t be that bad if he didn’t insist on singing every episode’s songs for the remainder of the week.

‘You can still stop him if you run…” you offer and Ana is immediately off your bed.

“Hoseok put down the remote!” she yells, running out of your room, down into the living room as you giggle and munch on the chips she left behind.

Your mind travels back to Ana’s worries about your feelings but you laugh them off.

You and Jimin? The entire idea is utterly ridiculous. He’s your best friend, you could never look at him that way.

Although, you too can admit he can be a sexy piece of ass when he wants to.

With a sigh, you throw the empty bag of chips on the floor and get under your covers, your mind too tired out to continue writing.

You just hope this thing with Dinah is only temporary. How long can a fling last when you already know the bad side of your lover?

.

.

When another week passes and they’re still going strong with no prospects of a breakup anywhere on the horizon, you realize it can be long.

Very long.

You wake up each day to giggles, picking thrown out clothes off the couch, listening to their yucky canoodling as they insist on making out on every surface of the apartment like a bunch of delinquents. While the rest of you are still present!

You swear if you hear another one of her obnoxious laughs you’re gonna drive a glass dildo through your ear canals to stop yourself from hearing altogether.

“I can’t take this anymooooore…” Hoseok whines quietly as you, he and Seokjin are crammed in the two-seat couch, while the lovebirds currently occupy the entirety of the big sofa.

It’s not that there’s no space for you to sit there as well. More like their insistent snogging effectively grosses the rest of you away.

“Me neither, but what can we do?” Seokjin whispers back while shuffling on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position and instead, managing to elbow both you and Hoseok in the process as an episode of Brooklyn 99 plays on the TV.

At the other side of the coffee table, Ana smiles triumphantly at you as she crosses her legs on top of the only armchair in the room. She was faster than the rest of you, that mean son of a bitch.

Hoseok squints at her with hatred before leaning in to whisper. “Is it wrong that I’m turned on by how mean she looks?”

Both yours and Seokjin’s protests of disgust are immediate.

“Lower the tent you perv,” Seokjin makes a face.

“Too late, this tent is the sturdiest thing ever built. I mean it’s so strong, so efficient, this stick is never gonna go down-”

“Okay, we have to do something or else I’m gonna finally kill Hoseok. After all those years of putting up with his weird sexual energy… this is gonna be the last straw,” your serious eyes turn to Seokjin to stress out the gravity of the situation.

Hoseok giggles mischievously and Seokjin sighs almost like he’s on auto-pilot. “Okay, okay, what do you propose?”

Hoseok pulls a face. “Really? That’s what convinces you? I’m hurt and as your friend of nearly four years I won’t stand for this kind of dishonour of my name!”

You both stare at Hoseok for a minute, no reaction whatsoever.

“Okay, I have a plan,” you ignore Hoseok in favour of turning to Seokjin and Hoseok groans, mumbling a grumpy “fake friends”.

“For the last time, Y/N, I refuse to be involved in your -honestly frightening- lust for murder,” Seokjin gives you the stink eye.

You gasp, offended. “I never said anything about murder!” you exclaim and Seokjin’s shoulders drop, looking somewhat remorseful.

You bite your lip though, knowing full well he’s not gonna like this suggestion either. “I just said we could sedate her and put her in Jimin's room.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, entirely disappointed but not surprised. “No.”

“Why? It’s a win-win situation! We don’t get to hear her and the couch is free!” you protest but Seokjin’s eyebrow raises.

“How’s that a win-win situation?”

“It’s a win-win situation for us! None of the wins is for her,” you shrug before Seokjin flicks you in the forehead and you yelp in pain.

The sound somehow alerts the couple and they both stop kissing to look over to the three of you weirdly. You and the boys immediately stop talking, trying to look as inconspicuous as ever. Which only makes you look even more suspicious.

“You guys okay there?” Jimin asks, voice questioning and wary.

All three of you smile at the same time, which honestly gives you a creepy “Stepford Wives” vibe, and you speak up when an idea pops into your head.

“Yeah, it’s just that this couch is kinda um… small for the three of us. But we’re fine!” you feel Seokjin staring at you wildly and you discreetly nudge him to play along.

Jimin’s face falls. “Oh, I didn’t realize! Some of you can come sit here.”

“Oh, no!” Seokjin waves his hands dismissively, “You guys seem really cosy there, we don’t want to ruin that!” he says, finally following your line of thought and you nod quickly as if to agree with him.

“Ah…” Jimin replies, voice soft and a second passes where his face hardens. But then it’s gone and he taps his finger on his chin as he thinks it through before-, “Well, you three can sit here and we can sit on the smaller couch if you’d like.”

The three of you are already standing up, ignoring the pout and slightly sharp glare Dinah is giving you.

Suck it up, demoness.

“Well, if you’re sure-”

“We’d really appreciate it-”

“Aren’t you two the sweetest-”

Jimin smiles at you, probably already knowing what’s going on and yet he says nothing, urging Dinah to stand up and follow him on the smaller sofa.

You and the boys fall to the bigger sofa with moans of appreciation, finally free to spread out your limbs without touching each other.

“Oh, yeah… that’s the stuff…” you moan as your arms lie limblessly to your side, not touching Hoseok’s or Seokjin’s for just a few centimetres but even those little centimetres of distance come as a blessing.

Ana chuckles at your antics and Seokjin sends her a glare.

“You don’t have laughing-at-the-rest-of-us rights, anymore, Brutus!�� he shakes a finger at her but Ana’s smile doesn’t deteriorate.

“I’d let that Brutus impale me with her blade anytime…” Hoseok adds unnecessarily and you groan.

Jimin takes a pause for having his soul sucked from his mouth from the dementor next to him, to look mildly curious. “How would that even work?” he asks and Dinah looks less than thrilled to not have his whole attention anymore, making you feel somewhat in the mood to gloat.

Ana rushes to explain. “Well, you see it can happen when you have purchased a specific type of-”

Seokjin immediately shuts Ana with his palm over her mouth. “Did you have to ask?!”

Jimin giggles. “I just wanted to know!”

“Yeah, and I wanted to not be traumatized by that image at 8 o’clock on a Thursday night but here we are!” Seokjin interjects and an involuntary laugh escapes your lips before Hoseok joins you.

And then Ana and Jimin do too before Seokjin relents as well at the sound of your laughter and you all end up cackling like maniacs in the middle of your living room.

Well, all except one.

Dinah sighs a little too loud when your giggles don’t seem to die down and she slowly gets off the couch. Her sullen face, an indication she visualised this whole evening to play out a little differently.

“I think I’m gonna head home…” She addresses Jimin and he stands up too.

“Oh, no, so soon?” your sarcasm can’t be helped. Hoseok elbows you in the ribs in return and you just barely conceal your groan.

“Why? Stay a little while longer…” Jimin pouts at her, that one specific pout that makes him seem like a kicked puppy, therefore makes him irresistible to refuse. You purse your lips as you guide your attention to the latest adventures of Jake Peralta but your treacherous ears can’t help but follow the rest of the conversation.

“I can’t. I have to be at the office early tomorrow…” she sounds remorseful as her hands rest on Jimin’s chest. But as said before you’re definitely not looking at them, so you can only guess.

“I’m sure those kids can wait a little- You know what, I felt bad for saying that, so forget I ever did,” Jimin says quickly as he circles his hands around her waist. Again you guess.

Ah, yeah, you forgot to mention. Dinah is a damn paediatrician. How could a person as evil as herself be something in such close proximity to children will forever escape you.

She smiles at him before- “Buut… you can come over instead if you’d like…” she says in a low voice and your eyes widen. You drag them away before Jimin’s surprised ones find you.

He can’t do that! Well, obviously, he can but Jimin wouldn’t do that to you-.

“Actually I promised Y/N we’d watch Space Jam tonight…” he tells her somewhat apologetically but still you feel relieved. Watching Space Jam is kind of a tradition between the two of you. It was a favourite movie of both, a feel-good movie if you will and long ago you’d promised each other that when things got rough for one or the other and you needed a little pick-me-up, you’d watch the movie together. You didn’t have to say anything else, just ask if the other one wanted to see the movie. And whatever the two of you had planned instead didn’t matter, you were always there when the other needed you.

You asked him this time. Your novel wasn’t going that well and some serious doubts over your writing skills had plagued your mind. You needed a getaway. And you weren’t about to let her get that away from you.

“Oh… okay…” she responds, face crestfallen and sad eyes looking at her feet and you almost scowl. She’s doing this on purpose! She knows it’s a tradition between the two of you and by acting like this she hopes Jimin will bail out on you.

Well, joke’s on her, because that won’t work on-.

“But, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind if we do that some other time!”

You freeze. Did he just-? No, Jimin wouldn’t. But the smile on his lips, so hopeful, says otherwise.

You can feel everyone staring at you, waiting for an answer. Do they seriously expect you to be fine with this?! Jimin knows how much this means to you, what it exactly means about your state of mind right now! Is he seriously about to blow you off?!

Ana is staring at you with alarm, sensing you’re about to explode, warning you against it. She knows it’ll just hurt Jimin and you know that too, but what about you?

You ignore her stare, opening your mouth to give a piece of your mind when you meet Jimin’s eyes.

There’s no sign of ulterior motives in their familiar brown, just expectation as your best friend waits for the answer. You forget what you wanted to say and you just stare back. Why is it so damn difficult to say no to him?

A few seconds pass and Jimin, having sensed your hesitation, opens his mouth with a sigh. “Nevermind, we can just-”

“It’s fine! You can go!” you exclaim surprising everyone including yourself. Jimin turns to look at you flabbergasted but you just smile at him. You don’t know what drove you to do that. You just couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in his voice while knowing you’re the one causing it.

“Are you sure…?” his voice is cautious, not wanting to go if it means it’ll get you even a little bit uncomfortable. Sweet Jimin, always thinking about others’ feelings. You smile again to spare his feelings, disregarding completely your own.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply and the sweetest smile takes over his lips, making all of this seem worth it.

“Great! Thank you!” he says, rushing to press a quick kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise before turning to Dinah, “Just lemme grab some stuff,” he disappears down the hall into his room.

He reappears a few minutes later with a small bag over his shoulders, the smile still present on his lips.

“Ready to go?” Dinah asks as Jimin gives her a peck on the cheek and nods.

“See you tomorrow, guys. Y/N, again thank you,” he waves at all of you and flashes you a smile. You smile back, waving as well as he exits the apartment first.

Dinah though stops before walking out the door and then she turns to you with a grateful smile.

“Y/N, thanks for that, I knew he wasn’t gonna come if you weren’t okay with it. And I’m sorry for stealing him away. Have a good night,” she addresses you before moving to exit the apartment.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome…” you reply and as soon as the door closes behind her you continue, “...you little bitch!” you move wildly to get out of the couch after her at that blatant display of her having Jimin wrapped around her little finger, while Hoseok and Seokjin are immediately trying to hold you back.

She did that on purpose! She knew what that movie represented, she just wanted to spite you! You don’t care how sincere she looked, she did that on purpose!

“Hey, hey, calm down, they’re gone!” Ana steps in front of you to calm you down and slowly your breaths even out. Your tired limbs fall lifelessly on the couch, not anymore resisting Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s hold.

Once you’ve calmed down, all of them stare at you cautiously. You hate that. You hate the pity in their eyes, you hate how they know exactly how much this hurts you, you hate feeling like you need their help.

You hate feeling vulnerable.

“I’m fine,” you snap, shaking their arms off, even if your own still have a slight tremble and you stand up.

They exchange stares and you press your lips together as you stare at the ceiling. Taking a deliberately slow breath to control your trembling.

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, your tone final, not waiting to hear their responses before you leave the living room for the safety of your own room.

None of them makes an attempt to follow you and you’re grateful for that at least.

You stomp into your room, closing the door loudly before grabbing your laptop and sit on your bed with a huff.

You don’t need Jimin to watch Space Jam and feel good afterwards! It’s the movie that makes you feel okay, not the person you’re watching it with. That’s what you try to convince yourself as you search for the movie on Netflix.

But as you sit there fuming through the first few minutes of the film, you can’t concentrate. You feel pushed aside as if you don’t matter, from none other than your best friend.

You press pause and with a sigh, you push the laptop aside. Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to watch your favourite movie with your best friend, to make jokes and laugh with Bugs Bunny, to feel better for once in the entirety of the last month. To feel comforted and safe in the presence of your best friend instead of moping miserably on top of your bed and feeling worse than before.

Instead, you grab your phone from your nightstand, scrolling through media in a poor attempt to distract yourself.

That’s how you spend your Thursday night and before you realize it you fall asleep with your phone still on your hands.

.

.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…” a soft voice brings you back from your slumber and you sleepily open your eyes to see Jimin hunched over you with a small, tender smile.

“What… What time is it?” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes and Jimin’s smile widens ever so slightly.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like this…” he responds quietly, urging you to abandon your current sleeping position for one that is more comfortable under the warmth of your covers. You’ve been curled up like a cat next to your laptop that’s still paused on Space Jam.

Jimin’s careful eyes flee to the screen, only for a second before they return to you, ever so gentle.

“Oh, okay then…” you mumble kinda dumbly in your sleep-infused haze and Jimin looks at you expectantly for a moment too long before he pushes you further across the mattress, to leave what you belatedly realize is more space for him.

“Scout over…” he whines, voice still quiet and you look at him perplexed. Why does he wanna sleep here, he has his own bed.

“Why?” you ask, purely confused and not at all hurt by the previous incident as Jimin expected but nonetheless his smile saddens before he stares shyly at your duvet.

“I was thinking, perhaps, we could still see the movie if you’re not too tired…” he mumbles, eyes wide effectively nailing the “puppy stare” he’s infamous for and naturally you find resolve crumbling. The previous anger is long gone when you stare at him so you smile back as you move aside and draw the covers for him to get under.

“Get here, you rascal,” you whisper back and his smile matches yours when he obeys and climbs in, dragging the laptop forward to restart the movie.

The both of you get comfortable against your headboard, Jimin’s arm hanging loosely around your shoulders as you watch Michael Jordan get sucked down a golf hole to the Looney Tune’s world.

The truth is you’re extremely tired and you most probably will fall asleep during the movie but you don’t mind sitting next to Jimin as the movie plays in the background and you bask in his warmth. Because at last, you feel the raging sea of your thoughts subside. Your mind is once again calm and serene, all your worries thrown aside in the favor of this one moment that makes you feel content. 

Ana’s warning faintly echoes through your head but the words are not enough to dampen your mood or make you spend a little more of your focus on them, even though Jimin’s arms feel safe. Feel like home.

A small smile stretches your lips. Even when you feel your eyes heavy with sleep, you still snuggle closer to your best friend.

.

.

{Jimin’s POV}

He’s a terrible, terrible friend.

The thought repeats inside the crevices of Jimin’s mind like mockery as he drives. His fingers tap against the leather of the steering wheel impatiently, matching his haywire of thoughts in a weird kind of fucked up way.

He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have made the subtle request in the first place. He knew you needed him, how could he not? It was stupid and selfish of him to leave you behind when you needed him.

But when Dinah gave him a distraction, a way to keep himself occupied… that’s what he wanted. Right? A distraction from everything, something to keep his mind off of things, to keep him from making any mistakes.

But even as he was lying on Dinah’s couch he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how he left you behind in a time he knew was difficult for you just so he can finally breathe freely, focus on something else other than-.

Dinah was good at that. Making him forget.

But as awful of a friend he was, he’s apparently an even worse boyfriend.

When his thoughts got too much to handle, too much for him to ignore and pretend he didn’t feel any remorse for abandoning you, he left Dinah’s with an excuse. It was a stupid one, he knew, she knew but still, she let him go. Because, as much as she made Jimin go through before, she changed. Jimin could recognize that in the way she acted, the way she talked, even the way she kissed him. That’s why he gave her a second chance in the first place.

And then he goes and probably ruins it by being the worst boyfriend. A stupid decision really.

He parks his car in front of their building and he locks with a sigh.

It’s late, too late for you to still be awake. And if you are awake at such an hour, it’ll probably be because you’re writing and you most likely won’t want to be disturbed.

But Jimin can’t help it. His guilt is killing him, eating him up from the inside so he has to at least check.

When he softly taps on your door and gets no reply, he pushes it open.

He finds you fast asleep, curled up on top of your covers, phone still on your hands and laptop still open next to your form.

He smiles softly at the image before he approaches you quietly, taking the phone from your hands to place on your nightstand before he wakes you up.

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up…��� he whispers softly, unable to keep the smile away from his lips at your adorable sleeping form. Waking you up is a necessary evil; otherwise, the next morning will consist of your sore muscles and your grumpy behaviour in all its glory.

“What… What time is it?” you ask quite drowsily and Jimin is relieved to see no sign of hurt in your voice. Nothing that exposes any malice or grudge hold against him.

“It’s twelve past one. Come on, get up, you’ll be dying in the morning if you sleep like that…” Jimin pushes you softly to move under the covers when his eyes find the screen of your laptop.

Paused in the first few minutes of Space Jam.

His chest constricts uncomfortably and he moves his eyes away in shame. The pain in his chest can only feel like a blade has impaled him with all the implications of how much of an awful friend he is. God, great job, Jimin.

But as you move over your mattress and under the covers, completely serene and calm, Jimin decides to make it up to you.

Towards the end of the movie Jimin realizes you’ve fallen asleep.

You’ve been quiet for a while now but it isn’t until he turns to point something out that he realises your eyes are closed.

You’re breathing slowly, snuggled up next to him, face pressed into the pillow as your chest rises and falls ever so gently.

His lips stretch into a smile, pushing a stray hair out of your face. He picks up the duvet to properly cover you and the movement makes you shift closer to him, to press your face on his side as if searching for him even in your sleep.

His smile widens. And then it falls.

God, he wants to-.

He stops the thought before it emerges.

His movements are deliberately slow and as quiet as they can be as he gets out of bed. He closes your laptop, leaving it on top of your desk before he walks to the door.

He stops then. He turns to take one last look at you and then he leaves.

.

.

{Y/N’s POV}

Next morning you wake up feeling fully rested.

You rub the sleepiness off your eyes before sitting up, hands landing on your soft covers, toes on the cold floor and you wiggle them back to life as you stretch your back with an appreciative moan.

You check your phone for the time, shocked when you find it’s too early for anyone to be awake on a Friday morning and you contemplate diving back into the haven of your covers. But the truth is you don't feel sleepy anymore and you were never the person to loll around in bed either.

So with one last yawn, you put on your slippers and make way to your kitchen. Since you’re the first one up, you could cook breakfast for the boys, reminding them of how much of a good roommate you are and riding them with guilt about the fact both of them haven’t bought any popcorn this last week.

Oh, maybe eggs and bacon? They’d love that! And plus, the tastier the recipe, the more prominent the guilt. You’ll have popcorn to spare for the rest of the year.

But as you make the turn for the kitchen, someone else is already banging pots and whisks in their attempt to concoct a delicious breakfast.

Jimin’s humming some song, whisking some batter as a pan rests on top of the stove, eggs already crackling on top of the boiling oil and the smell fills your nostrils as you get closer. 

Dammit, no free popcorn for you. But at least you won’t have to cook.

“God, that smells amazing…” you comment as you take a seat on the kitchen island and Jimin turns around, eyes wide in reaction to the sudden noise but quickly smirks once it realizes it’s just you.

“Morning to you too,” he chuckles with a roll of his eyes as the whisk never stops moving in his hands. He quickly looks back on the stove when the crackling gets louder and he puts aside the batter with a curse to inspect the eggs.

“Want some help?” you can’t help the soft smile on your face, surprisingly ready to step up and aid his ministrations despite feeling relieved earlier of not having to cook.

He blows a stray hair out of his eyes before he relents. “Please.”

With a giggle, you abandon your spot to help the poor man as Jimin finally finds some time to drink some water. “Where do you want me, chief?” you ask with your hands on your waist.

Jimin chokes on his water, coughing uncontrollably and worry fills you as you’re quick to pat him on the back.

“Hey, easy with the water bud!” you joke and once his coughing stops he gives you a weak smile.

“Got it. Um, you could whisk the batter as I fry the bacon. It needs some more stirring…” he turns to take the done eggs out of the pan, face red from the coughing fit and you mumble a quick confirmation before taking a hold of the whisk.

The kitchen is then filled with the sounds of your whisking and the crackling of the oil in the pan, as Jimin continues humming that unfamiliar song. You gather your hair up in a ponytail to get them out of the way as you continue whisking next to Jimin. It’s been a long time since the two of you have been like this; cooking together, spending time next to one another and still feel close even when you say nothing. The comfortable silence stretches around you as sun rays lighten up the space, hitting at all the right spots to illuminate the two of you.

Your eyes move on their own accord, fleeting to Jimin’s concentrated face as he adds another bacon strip. His brown eyes are focused on the task ahead, eyebrows scrunching whenever a particularly loud crackling sound emerges and your lips move into shaping an involuntarily smile. The sun streams run through his hair, flecks of dust floating in the air around him, almost like a halo, bathing him in an almost ethereal glow. As if you’re his lover and he makes you breakfast after spending the night together, tangled between the sheets.

Your mind short-circuits and you blink when the thought catches up with your reason.

What the fuck was that?

At that moment Jimin leans almost too close to your face, as he ducks to avoid some oil spitting out of the pan.

Your eyes widen at the close proximity and you suck in a breath, realising your mistake as soon as his natural scent infiltrates your lungs.

God, he smells so good. It reminds you of the fresh scent of rain and flowers and something so obviously him.

Jimin leans away immediately and you almost lean forward.

Y/N, what the fuck?

His smile is blinding. “Sorry…” he says before taking out the bacon strips, and you shake your head to get the weird thoughts out of your mind.

“It’s fine…” you mutter, returning your eyes to the batter.

Suddenly very aware of Jimin next to you.

.

.

After you’re done with cooking and putting some aside for Hoseok when he wakes up, the two of you sit down on the kitchen island to finally eat.

“So how did you sleep, Y/N?” Jimin’s voice is coloured with a teasing timbre as he regards you with wiggling eyebrows.

You groan out loud. You remember falling asleep during the movie very clearly and he’s never gonna let you live that down. But you’ll be damned if you let yourself go down without a fight. Or at least bringing him down with you.

“It happened once! Plus I wasn’t the one ditching my best friend to go get laid!” you tease him back, although a bit of your bitterness over last night’s debacle slips through your words, the jab at him a little more serious than you intended at first.

Although your pettiness quickly ebbs away once Jimin’s smile falls and he looks at his plate with a downtrodden face. You suddenly regret saying anything, realising how much of a jerk you’ve been to bring it up when you already decided it wasn’t worth to keep a grudge over. You don’t want to be the reason he looks like this.

“I was just joking, Jimin, I’m not really mad,” you rush to comfort him, placing a tentative hand on top of his palm.

You feel at ease when you don’t feel him pull back. Though a grim sigh rolls off his lips.

“Maybe you aren’t, but that does not make the way I acted last night okay…” he admits, voice low as he rubs the base of his neck with his other hand. He bites his lip in thought and your eyes stick there for a moment before you shake your head back into reasoning.

Thankfully Jimin doesn’t seem to catch up on that. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was a terrible friend. I knew you needed me and I decided to leave. Please forgive me?” he begs with a pleading smile and damn it, it’s difficult to refuse anything to these eyes.

You sigh dramatically, tapping a finger on your chin as you pretend to ponder on it. “Say I do forgive you. How do you plan on replenishing those hours of agony I was forced to spend due to your absence?” you say with a mock-strict voice and Jimin smiles, already knowing you forgave him.

“I’ll do anything you want. Consider me your personal Genie,” he jokes, jutting his chin out and puffing up his chest.

“Does that mean I get three wishes and a spectacular musical number?”

He’s quick to glare at you. “Let’s not stretch this too much, okay?”

You chuckle when an idea pops into your mind. Oh, he’s gonna hate this, perfect.

The smirk that graces your lips can’t mean anything good, Jimin realises with a sigh.

“How about a little competition…?”

Jimin’s eyes widen in fear. “You don’t mean-?”

“A Just Dance Competition!” you announce loudly, grin threatening to split your lips as Jimin stares at you with a fond smile.

“Oh, god, I should’ve expected that…” he chuckles, the sound resigning as he shakes his head.

In your first years of college, competing on Just Dance choreographies was almost an everyday thing. You and Jimin would give your best dancing moves and Hoseok would judge. Although after many times cheating and being overly competitive to the point of threatening the poor judge, you decided to leave the activity behind.

“Come on, just this once…” you hold up one finger and bring out your best puppy stare to sway him. Jimin just stares at you with crossed hands on his chest.

“You said anything…” your voice visibly loses its excitement as your face turns a bit crest-fallen.

He doesn’t last for long.

“Fine. We can do this, I guess…” he relents.

“Yes!” you do a little victory dance at Jimin’s answer.

“But just this once! And no one else can see but Hoseok!” he protests, shaking a finger scarily at you and you groan but agree nonetheless.

“Okay! It’ll just be the three of us. Partners in crime!” you declare, enthusiasm ruling over your body, standing proudly with your hands on your hips.

Jimin shakes his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m your friend…”

You stick your tongue out to him. “Because you looove me,” you sing-song, pecking him on the cheek, with a loud smack.

Jimin’s frame remains still for a moment. Staring at you as you climb out of your stool to wake up Hoseok and share the news before he reaches out.

“Wait…” his hand grasps your arm, halting your steps as you turn around to him with a questioning look.

He takes a deep breath before a smile befalls his lips. “I just… I never got to thank you.”

You stare back, confused, trying to think of what he wants to thank you for, but as time passes and you come by with nothing, you get more and more perplexed.

“About what?” you sit down again, kinda curious of what is so important to him that he wants to thank you.

His smile is grateful. “You know, for being so considerate with this whole situation. I mean, we all know Dinah… And I appreciate you being so cool about it,” he says calmly, thankfully as he takes your empty plates to put them on the sink.

His words send a fresh wave of guilt through you and you bite your lip. You need to tell him the truth.

“Actually about that…” you turn to look at him, trailing off and unsure of how to tell him you actually, kinda, sorta hate his girlfriend with a burning passion.

“Yeah?” Jimin’s unaware eyes and sweet smile meet your shameful and guilty ones. He looks so oblivious and so happy. You can see he likes her, you can see he wants to make this work and even you can admit Dinah’s behaviour has changed. Maybe this is it for them. Maybe all that shit had to happen so the second time around they’d know better of each other and themselves.

Maybe they were meant to make it work from the beginning.

A lump gets stuck in your throat.

“... Of course,” you smile through the sickening feeling in your chest, one you choose to ignore, despite its magnitude, “I’ll always be there to support you no matter what.”

Jimin’s smile turns wider, radiant and you feel like it swallows you.

Like it’s the only thing you see.

.

.

It’s the next evening that you put on your dancing gear and get ready to beat Jimin’s ass. 

Saturday is one of the few really free days you have. Jimin has no classes scheduled to teach today, Hoseok’s radio show isn’t scheduled for Saturdays and you’re just a writer with time to spare.

True to your words, you haven’t said anything to the other two friends of your group, keeping this little event strictly between the residents of this house. Although to be fair, there was another reason for the missed invite.

It’s not the first time during those two days that Ana’s words came to haunt you. To nag at your mind, making you wonder if there’s any truth to the accusations. Those accompanied with your behaviour around Jimin yesterday can only spell trouble for you and your dynamics.

No, there’s no way you feel anything else for Jimin besides cordial friendship. Ana just messed with your head, putting all those silly ideas in it to confuse you, hence why you can’t stop thinking about him naked.

Oops, did you say naked? You meant “in all those domestic scenarios where he’s your lover”.

You sigh. That doesn’t sound any better.

Okay, focus. You don’t like him. There’s no way.

Making your way into the living room, you find your roommates already in the area. Hoseok searches for Just Dance videos on youtube while Jimin stretches on the floor, leaning forward to touch his toes while granting you a perfect view of his plumpy behind.

God, what did I just say?!

You shake your head. That doesn’t count! You can still be attracted to someone and regard them only as a friend. Right?

Bottom line is you don’t like Jimin.

“Are we ready gentlemen?” you shot them a confident smile, already pumped up for this.

Jimin regards you with self-assurance colouring his features. “Ready for you to eat my dust? You bet I am,” he boasts, a sly smirk gracing his lips and you snort out loud.

“We’ll see about that…” is your collected comeback, not really worried about the outcome of this competition. You know you’re about to serve him his ass on a platter.

“Your trash talk sucks dick. Thank god I’m not the judge of that, both of you would be slammed to the ground right now…” Hoseok retorts with impassiveness as he puts a video on queue.

“You’re not here to roast us, you’re here to judge buttercup, so shut your hole and judge,” you bite back, the rush of the impending competition already getting you lightheaded, as you stare Hoseok down.

His eyebrow twitches in return. “Do you want me to change the song?” he challenges you.

At that, you and Jimin turn around immediately to see Twice’s Feel Special tutorial staring back at you from the screen and you realise that no. You don't.

“You’re fucking kidding me…” is Jimin’s less than excited response at having to dance the one song you’re a thousand times better than him.

This is gonna be a piece of cake.

.

.

“No, I’m done! You clearly cannot appreciate my natural charisma, which is simply a blasphemy! A blasphemy, I tell you! People would beg to be judged by me, you degenerates!” Hoseok bursts out of the couch, the dancing tutorial still echoing softly in the background.

“No, Hoseok, please! We promise we’ll be good!” you beg with not as much as a tiny speck of sympathy for your deteriorating dignity.

Jimin scoffs, crossing his hands on his chest. “We? I had no part in this disrespectful disruption and that should be duly noted!” he rushes to save face. Truth is you’ve gone a bit too far.

“Y/N, you threw your phone at me!” a sheepish smile takes over your lips as Hoseok’s eyes marvel at your completely nonchalant behaviour.

“I didn’t… throw my phone at you per se....” you struggle to find an excuse, “I… threw it to you!” you explain with a giggle once your words make somewhat sense.

“What?” Hoseok’s furrowed eyebrows are a clear indication he’s not buying your shit.

“I threw it to you, not at you! So you could... film us! And naturally, the competition would be fairer!” you say in explanation, making your story on the way though it seems none of your roommates believe you.

You suppose that’s fair.

“I would’ve believed you if you hadn’t screamed straight to my face, -and I quote-, “What do you know of judging you freaking cocksucker?”,” Jimin lets out a snort, one he’s quick to hide behind his lips once your ominous glare finds him.

“Well, that leaves us with no judge and we’re currently at a tie, so what will we do?”

Hoseok simply shrugs before heading off to the corridor. “Not my problem anymore, compadre!” he beams at you before disappearing into his room.

Another heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as the song in the background changes into a softer ballad and you turn around to Jimin.

“Well, I guess this was for nothing then…” you huff out but Jimin simply smiles.

“No, I don’t think so…” he responds cryptically and before you can question him about it, his hand grabs yours.

“Come on, let’s dance…” he mutters quietly as he drags you forward closer to him.

Your breath hitches as your palms rest on his chest, heart suddenly beating wildly out of rhythm. You try to chase away Ana’s suggestion, blaming these feelings only on the fact that he’s hot. That’s all. Nothing more.

“But it’s a ballad. It has no tutorial…” you sputter, panic lingering in your words in a futile attempt to get rid of that unexplainable warmth enveloping you as Jimin’s hands end up encasing you.

“So we’ll slow dance…” is his simple answer, clearly not at all as affected as you.

You don’t know why that drives something ugly through your chest.

There’s nothing else you can say to get out of this without making it weird, so you simply let him guide you.

It’s easy to fall into a routine, slowly swaying to the beat of the music as you rest your chin on Jimin’s shoulder. You let your hands find their way to Jimin’s back, sliding upwards to rest on his shoulder blades as his own spread comfortable warmth to the small of your back.

It’s easy to pretend like this. Easier to close your eyes and let the beat slowly fill your ears, as you bask in the safeness of Jimin’s embrace. Like it’s nothing but another normal Sunday night, and not a favour to you because he left you to go hang out with Dinah.

Dinah. The name brings a pang of dull ache in your sternum.

There’s a small lump in your throat that you swallow away.

You’re just worried for him.

A small voice wonders when you’ll grow tired of this.

Jimin’s audible sigh brings you back to reality. You lean back to find him staring at you. His eyes bore into yours and you can’t look away.

There’s something in them, something unreadable but it makes your cheeks scorch with the attention. Though you’re unable to avert your gaze from them. They remind you of that night, outside of your doors, when you were sure he was about to say something but ultimately choose not to.

Again, you wonder what that was. If he’s about to say it now.

But his lips remain pierced shut.

When the silence gets overwhelming you decide to break it.

You clear your throat. “So, uhm, have you done your christmas shopping yet?” you mumble, eyes zerowing on your feet that step side by side to Jimin’s.

His eyes still seek your own. “No, not yet…” he replies casually, hands soft upon your waist. “What about you?” he asks and you’re glad for the more than welcome distraction.

“Oh, yeah, I’m done with mine. Just haven’t figured what to get for Seokjin yet… You know how he gets about presents…” you mumble with a smile before you accidentally step on Jimin’s foot.

He hisses and your eyes widen as you rush to apologize.

“Shit, I’m sorry, maybe we should stop…”

Jimin shakes his head, “No, it’s fine…” he says, though his voice is a bit stiff and his eyes avert your own.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t stop dancing with you.

Again, there’s silence between you, only the sound of the song wafting through the living room. But this time it feels as if something else is floating through the air. Something tense.

You’re quick to fill the silence with a question that’s not easy to ask but it’s the only thing you can think of.

“So… you and Dinah, huh?” you just barely cover your shaky voice.

Jimin’s eyes find yours again. “Oh, uhm, yeah… I mean who would’ve thought, right?” he says with a surprised chuckle, “I mean after everything you’d think I would’ve stayed clear of her…” he says bewildered and an uneasy chuckle escapes you.

“Well, yeah, to be completely honest, we all were caught off guard…” you dare to say, remembering seeing him and Dinah in Seokjin’s bathroom that night. Only now thinking of his lips on her skin makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Yeah, I know. And I’m glad you are this civilized about it. I admit it wasn’t supposed to go this far, she was just there when I wasn’t okay and needed a distraction. She was familiar and comfortable. But then we ended up talking and… she’s really changed, Y/N. She kept apologizing for everything and I couldn’t help but think about how it would be if we tried again. I mean everyone deserves a second chance, right?” he concludes with such clarity and insight.

There’s a part of you that wants to say he’s stupid and naive for believing her. But the truth is he’s right. Everyone sane can see she has indeed changed and it reflects on their relationship as well. Jimin returns from their dates feeling happy and content.

You don’t know why that feels like a punch in the gut.

Your lips tug into a forced smile. “Right… wait, why weren’t you okay?” you ask, finally realizing you have no recollection of that. If he had been feeling less than okay at Seokjin's party, you can’t recall.

Jimin laughs your worries off, even though the nervousness in his features is obvious. “It was nothing. I just… saw something I shouldn’t have…” is his evasive answer. His eyes find yours again and they don’t dare to avoid you. Neither do you.

There’s something tense between you, something unspoken. You don’t think you can take any more of this without going mad.

But Jimin’s gaze doesn’t deter. It remains on you, as his hands tighten on your waist. The traitorous fluttering of your heart progresses and you mask your trembling inhale just barely. And suddenly an unexpected yearning blooms inside your lungs. One that’s swallowing you whole, threatening to take hold of your reasoning, threatening to push you forward and-.

Another Just dance tutorial comes into the screen and causes you both to jump in surprise and break apart.

Warmth spreads through your cheeks as you realize what you were about to do.

You were about to lean in.

Jimin clears his throat, eyes searching for his phone and he checks the time. “Oh, shit, I promised Dinah I’d go over there after we’re done…” he mumbles and you can’t help the slight sting that grows in your chest.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead…” you wind up saying, “I mean there’s no one to judge so technically there’s no competition anymore…” you try to get rid of the uneasiness with a chuckle.

Jimin looks at you with a carefree smile as if nothing happened. And you don’t know what hurts more, Jimin’s nonchalance about it or that nothing actually happened.

“Great, then I’m off. Bye, see you tomorrow!” he says, grabbing his phone and keys before stepping out of the apartment.

You stand there in the middle of the living room, eyes stuck on the closed front door. Knowing he went to find her and your chest constricts painfully.

You place your palm to steady your beating heart but it does not work. Not at all. Not when you keep wondering, wishing it was you in her place.

With terror, you realize you’re in deep shit.

.

.

You avoid Jimin as much as you can after that. December progresses, people flooding the streets to either buy presents, meet up with loved ones or visit the Christmas market at the centre, spreading love and warmth through an otherwise cold period.

Sadly that liberated flux of emotion cannot penetrate your tough walls of “perpetual desolation”, as you had once drunkenly described, and paired with the newly-realized feelings for Jimin, it renders you a real-life Scrooge.

That’s how Wednesday finds you with Ana and Seokjin, holed up in a cosy, little coffee house while trying to plan out this year’s New Year’s party.

It’s been a tradition of some sorts for you and your friends to host a New Year’s party at Ana’s apartment, given it’s the most spacious one, inviting all the people you know to celebrate the start of the new year in the best way possible.

You normally would be really pumped up about organizing the event, getting a small taste of the thrill the party would be weeks before. But today your mind isn’t at all able to focus on the preparations. Not that you could focus on anything else besides Jimin since Saturday.

“Okay, I’m sorry but we have to stop. Y/N clearly isn’t paying attention,” Seokjin acts out, his loud whining succeeds in startling you and you finally turn around to realize both of your friends stare suspiciously at you.

Seokjin is just confused, you can tell but Ana’s eyes tell a different story.

That night, after Jimin left for Dinah’s, you immediately called your friend, voice full to the brim with panic as you explained with a nervous stutter what happened. What you had realized and she tried to provide comfort in the best way that she could. She came over with a tub of ice cream, ready to talk it out with you and figure out what your plan was going to be. You also plead with her not to tell Hoseok, the boy couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

So you’re left sitting here, trying to plan out a party and instead wondering what your course of action should be.

And also wanting to tell Seokjin, hoping he’d have something different to say than Ana. Her suggestion was not what you wanted to hear. Not in the slightest.

“What’s going on?” the man in question asks once he deciphers the mild look of despair in your eyes, voice a tad more empathetic than before.

Your eyes find Ana’s.

She lets out a sigh, before closing her notebook. “Guess I’ll have to say it then…” she muses and a grateful smile masks over your lips. It’s still quite difficult for you to wrap your head around this sudden, inconceivable situation, let alone utter it out loud.

Seokjin’s confusion reflects in the state of his eyebrows; scrunched in, twitching upwards as his eyes zero in on Ana.

Ana rolls her eyes, takes a breath and then-.

“Y/N realized she’s in love with Jimin.”

“Ana!” you protest with wide eyes at her choice of words, feeling your cheeks redden as Seokjin gasps in astonishment.

“Okay, okay, “likes” Jimin,” she reformulates although she doesn’t have you convinced she believes this.

“Jimin?!” the man’s wide eyes are filled with disbelief, mirroring your own sentiments about the current turn of events.

You nod quickly yet somehow bashfully as another gasp falls from Seokjin’s lips and Ana mumbles a quiet “I know”.

“What? How? Who? No, wait, we know who,” he cuts off himself but not for long, “When? When did your feelings change? Was it after your one-night special of passionate love-making? God I have so many questions!” his whole form is trembling with excitement, giddiness over the newly discovered news that leaves you sort of confused.

“I don’t know actually…” you mumble, overly self-conscious and yet you push yourself to continue, to pour out everything that came rushing over you in the last couple of days. Maybe it’ll help. “It feels more as if… as if those feelings were always there? Only I hadn't realised them until recently…” you mutter, eyes on your cup as you stir the now-cold americano.

It still amazes you how much of those words are real. You like your best friend and in some way, you think you always did. Though you guess you were too dense to ever really pay attention to that bubbling feeling in your chest every time he was near.

Not until Ana pointed it out.

“How did you realize it then?” Seokjin’s query is deceptively calm and you figure from the insistent nail-biting, he’s holding back to not scare you off. An act you greatly appreciate.

“Well, Ana and I had a talk the other day which gave me a lot to think about… And after spending some time with Jimin alone and I started to observe myself and my behaviour around him… how he made me feel… I realized it for what it was. For what it is…” you stare at your cup while stealing careful glances at Seokjin, who looks ready to burst with whatever he wants to say but refrains from doing so.

You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “You can talk now.”

A loud gasp tears through his mouth before, “Oh my god, this is so exciting! I already ship it, you’re perfect for each other! If I’m being honest here I never made a move on you cause I also thought you had something going on with Jimin, oh sweet baby Jesus this ship is sailing itself. It’s canon! I-”

“Wait, Seokjin, I think you forget a very important detail,” Ana interrupts him, gaze stern as ever and Seokjin visibly hesitates.

“What?”

“Dinah,” Ana answers and Seokjin’s eyes glaze over with recognition before his shoulders drop.

“Oh, right…” he remembers solemnly and steals a glance at you full with guilt.

You smile although a bit saddened. “It’s okay…”

“But, Y/N… Are you actually in love with him? Or was this just something Ana said to tease you?” he regards you with wary eyes.

You rush to answer the question, minutes before so certain of your answer, only for your lips to remain shut with uncertainty. “I… I don’t know. I mean I thought it was just a crush but I’m not so sure anymore. He’s all I can think about, all I could think about even when I didn't know I liked him, something he said, or the way his voice changed, wondering what the cause of it was. I catch myself actively wishing to be in Dinah’s place, to be the one Jimin goes home to at the end of the day, the one to get to call him hers…” your feelings catch up with you and you find yourself needing a moment to breathe. A moment when you realize it’s not just some stupid crush.

You take a shaky breath. “Fuck, I’m screwed…” you say, the consequences of your breakthrough taking over you like a tidal wave, as you come to a startling conclusion. “I need to tell Jimin.”

Ana takes a tense breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

But you don’t listen, just like you didn’t after your talk. “I’m not expecting anything out of it so it’d be okay either way, then I can move on at last.”

She shakes her head disapprovingly. “Y/N, no, you don’t know how he’s gonna react! He’s not some rando you happen to stumble upon the same bar four nights a week. He’s your best friend with whom you live together. If things head south, it wouldn’t be as simple as just changing your hangout spot to avoid him! He’s always gonna be there.”

Her words sound ominous and, more frighteningly, reasonable, slightly wavering your resolve but you don’t back down just yet, turning a blind eye to the worst possible outcome even if the chances of that happening are so much more than the opposite. “It’s Jimin, no matter what happens between us, we always have managed to work through it.”

Ana sighs, eyes sad as she stares at you, once again having to fight her way through to make you see reason. “Honey, this is not as simple as him stealing your cereal…”

You swallow the lump in your throat, stubbornly refusing to let it go. “Yeah, but what if-”

“There’s no “what if” Y/N!” Ana lashes out, eyes wide half with irritation half with concern as both you and Seokjin are left to simply stare at her. “There’s no way to tell if he’s feeling the same and he’s currently dating Dinah, who he’s happy with! All you’re gonna achieve now is getting him all confused and uncertain. Do you realize how that may affect your friendship afterwards? Do you really wanna jeopardize what you have over a “what if”?” Ana’s rant is over and finally, you can’t hide behind your finger anymore as her words echo in your mind. Although there’s a large part of you that wishes to deny it, you admit with a heavy heart she is right.

You can’t tell Jimin. Not right now.

You bite your lip as you avert your eyes, trying to suppress your tears as you shake your head, to show you finally see reason. Even if it hurts like hell.

Ana sighs, regret filling her otherwise soft voice. “I’m sorry for being so blunt, if the situation was any different I would be right there with you, being the first to support you in your decision to tell him. But it’s not. And I just don’t want to see either of you getting hurt…” she confesses, as she reaches her hand out to tentatively cover your own.

You let her as you swallow the lump in your throat. The one that makes you feel like you’re drowning.

“I have to agree with Ana on this… I think it will be for the best if you didn’t tell him for now. But whatever you decide to do…. We’ll support you…” Seokjin adds with tender words, that Ana nods furiously to agree with, as he squeezes gently your other hand.

A sad smile manages to find its way onto your lips as you give them both a gentle and thankful glance.

“Thank you, guys…” your voice is barely audible. Then you shake your head, blinking the tears away and slap your cheeks to get rid of the choking in your throat.

“Okay, enough of this. Let’s go back to what we actually came here to do!” you exclaim with a smile and Ana and Seokjin smile back as they open their notebooks once more.

You might be going through a heartbreak but at least for now, you’ll be fine.

.

.

After that conversation, Ana and Seokjin took it upon themselves to help you find someone else, even if you told them a thousand times you weren’t interested.

Ana proposed Seokjin could give Namjoon your number but Seokjin was quick to inform you he was currently seeing someone. Ana tried to hook you up with a work friend but to be honest, there really was no spark with Youngjae so you gave up on that fairly easily. But there’s this guy you see a few times a week at your favourite coffee shop and just a few days ago he approached you asking for your number. At first, you were hesitant to give it but you knew Ana and Seokjin were right on the whole dating thing. If you want to get over Jimin, you need to give another person a chance. So you gave your number to Jaehyun and now, a week later after your talk with Ana and Seokjin, just two days before Christmas, you’re getting ready for your date. Seokjin had suggested you had the date at his restaurant and the probability of being somewhere familiar, somewhere comfortable was like music to your ears.

In the meantime, your avoidance of Jimin hasn’t subsided. There are moments when you think he’s on to you, or that he thinks something’s weird but whenever he tries to bring it up, Seokjin or Ana or your disappearance halt him.

The truth is you hate it. It feels awful to avoid your best friend, it’s horrible pretending as if you don’t see the hurt in his eyes when you dismiss him. But you don’t trust yourself enough to not spill anything to him yet. And Ana was right, you can’t afford to risk it.

So that’s your plan for as long as needed. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

Although when the front door closes with a loud bang, you have a feeling it’s not gonna be that easy today. Hoseok’s over at Ana’s as she promised to keep him there to give you and Jaehyun some privacy. So the only other possible explanation is Jimin returning earlier from his date.

You peak out of your bedroom to see him marching down the hall. His eyes stare stubbornly, intensely at the floor as if they try to burn holes through the carpet as his heavy steps boom through the apartment. That vein in his forehead is pulsing, threatening to burst at any moment, his lips pulled into an angry frown as he takes off his jacket. He tries to rip it off with hasty movements as if it’s something tangled to him, choking him.

“Jimin, is everything okay…?” you ask cautiously as he still struggles with his jacket in front of his bedroom.

He curses through clenched teeth, ripping the jacket off his hand with one sharp movement. “Yeap. Everything’s okay. More than okay! Perfect! Everything’s perfect!” he exclaims, even though the irony in his voice doesn’t do much to convince you.

“...Do… you wanna talk about it?” your voice is careful, wishing quite selfishly and guiltily he doesn’t, because you know if he does want, there’s no chance you’ll be able to deny him, date or no date. 

He huffs before searching for his phone. “What’s there to talk about? That my girlfriend is a successful doctor that apparently gets paged in the middle of our date? That children need her and I can't complain? That I’m searching for my phone and I can’t fucking find it?!” he bursts before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Your stomach flips uncomfortably in response to the hurt hiding in Jimin's eyes. His face is filled with worries, marking the space between his eyebrows and you want to smooth your thumb over the lines. Your chest constricts in a bothersome matter when you spot his glassy eyes. It’s not an image you like to see on him.

So, against your better judgement, you do what you’ve tried so long not to.

You talk to him.

“You’re not a bad person for feeling angry. As long as you don’t put the blame on her you’re okay. It’s normal. You just want to spend some time with your girlfriend…” you respond, trying to hide the sadness colouring your voice at the word “girlfriend”, as you walk out of your room into the hallway to talk properly to your friend.

His eyes, filled with something akin to shame, find yours and you wanna wipe that frown from his lips with yours.

But you control yourself. You’re not an animal.

“Also, check your jacket…” you point at the article of clothing with a soft smile, and as he follows your advice, he gives you a small, closed-lip smile. But it’s still a smile.

With a tired chuckle, he finds his phone in one of the pockets and shakes his head before his eyes find yours. Although as they land on your form, the chuckle fades out, confusion written on his skin.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asks, pointing to the mini black dress you’re wearing and sudden heat scorches through your cheeks.

“I, uhm… Yeah, on a date…” you chuckle nervously, rubbing your arm, eyes on your feet. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m going, the guy’s too hot for me…” you try to joke but Jimin has none of it.

“Bullshit, you’re too hot for him! You always do that, you put yourself down, thinking you’re not good enough, but Y/N, they’re not good enough for you! You’re amazing, funny, smart, kind and, yeah, sometimes grumpy as hell, but you deserve more than feeling like one of someone’s many choices. You’re the only one. So treat yourself like one as well.” Jimin interjects, voice serious and kinda fed up but his last words soften. He looks at you with such tenderness you can almost pretend he feels the same. You can almost pretend he wants you too.

Almost.

You clear your throat. “Thanks, sport…” you respond with a chuckle, trying to chase the tension away, but Jimin’s eyes won’t budge. They seem uncertain as if he’s trying to figure out something, but their intensity only tortures you more and you have to say something to break free from them.

“Uhm, yeah so I have to go now…” you move back to your room to get your purse and coat and Jimin’s eyes finally move away from you with a cough.

“Yeah, uhm… Yeah, of course…” he rushes to say, eyes fidgeting anywhere but close to you as he struggles to open his door.

“...Unless you want me to cancel?” you propose, knowing full well if he says yes, there’s no way you can say no to him. And that Ana is probably gonna beat your ass.

Jimin almost chokes at that, face flushing, turning his body towards you yet his eyes look at the floor. “What? Why? Why would I want you to cancel?” he stutters, eyes fidgeting between you and his door.

“Well, I figured you’d want to talk some more about Dinah…” you say softly, thinking you must have hit a nerve on his pride but he visibly relaxes at your words.

“Oh, uhm, no, don't worry about it, I’ll be fine. Go enjoy your date, and say hi to Seokjin from me,” he responds with a smile, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But before you get to ask him if he’s sure, or how he knows the date is at Seokjin’s restaurant, he’s already hiding in his room, behind his closed door.

You sigh. Maybe he wants to be alone. To be alone and think it over by himself. Yeah, he’ll be okay.

You don’t do a good job of convincing yourself as you put on your coat and walk to the front door.

He’ll be fine.

.

.

20 minutes later, you find your way back into the apartment, throwing your keys on the glass bowl next to the door, taking your shoes off in front of a very confused and suspicious Jimin who watches a movie on the couch.

You take off your coat and plop yourself down next to him, as he keeps on watching you weirdly.

You pick up some of his popcorn, before. “What are we watching?”

Jimin presses his lips together in a poor attempt to conceal the grin threatening to spill all over his lips before he schools his face into a strict expression. “I told you I’d be okay…”

Your eyes are glued to the TV as you feign ignorance. “I know. And I didn’t bail out on him. He did,” you said, sudden interest in the movie piqued.

Jimin’s eyes widen, shuffling on his spot with newly found vigour. “What? You want me to talk to him for you?”

That takes you by surprise. You turn to look at him only to see his eyes stuck to you, as serious as ever. Does he even know Jaehyun?

Oh god, he shouldn’t talk to him.

“Ah, no, no, he didn’t do it on purpose! He just… had somewhere to go. We’ll just reschedule,” you reply knowing full well you’re not gonna do that.

Even if Jaehyun was entirely too eager to do that when you told him you had a family emergency.

Truth is you didn’t drive too far before you yielded and texted Jaehyun to cancel. Thinking Jimin would’ve been stuck at home alone and sulking didn’t sit well with you.

Jimin’s suspiciousness doesn’t leave his eyes but he visibly relaxes. “Oh, if you’re okay then…” he simply says before his smile reappears. Then he goes on to answer your previous question, informing you about the movie playing in the background.

You rest your chin on your palm as you listen to him intently. Absorbed by the excitement in his voice, the glint in his eyes as he explains the plot to a movie he clearly enjoys. His cheeks are flushed, heated up by how quickly he’s talking, voice melodic and excited. His hair falls on top of his forehead, messy and shiny, moving slightly with every tilt of his head when he’s thinking over something. His lips form a pout when he’s uncertain over a specific detail but the truth is you don’t care.

Not about the movie.

.

.

It’s towards the end of the movie when you feel Jimin turning towards you.

You copy his actions, turning to face your best friend with a questioning glint in your eyes. “Spill it out, champ.”

Jimin smiles at your words, resting one arm at the back of the couch, behind you. “I just wanted to thank you for staying-”

You gasp, once again pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. “I told you the date got cancelled, I had to come back! Didn’t you listen, you dingus?”

Jimin’s smile widens, looking away with a low chuckle. “Right…” he says, though not looking very much convinced. “Even so… you being here means a lot, so thank you…” he concludes with soft eyes, a kind of tenderness you’re not used to seeing reflecting in his gaze, at least not directed towards you. But it’s not foreign, not even one bit.

A gentle smile graces your lips as you answer. “Of course. You’re my best friend,” you respond in an as-a-matter-of-fact way while you give him a playful nudge on the ribs.

He chuckles, eyes falling to his lap. “You know, I might be joking about regretting being your friend when you annoy the shit out of me…” you both laugh at that, as you shuffle in your spot, “but if I’m grateful for anything in my life is the years you’ve been a part of it. I wouldn’t risk our friendship for anything. You’re the best friend I could ever have and I hope I’m at least half as good a friend to you,” he concludes, words filled with emotion, even though his voice is serene and soothing.

The display of emotion tugs at your heartstrings but when it’s your turn to return them words fail you. You can’t even begin to put what Jimin means to you into words, newly-discovered feelings put aside. What his friendship means to you, what those years spent together made you cope through and how they changed you, those things are bigger than the strict barrier of words.

So, you do what every self-respected awkward human being would do.

You joke about it.

“Did you swallow a Barbie DVD or something? Where did that come from?” you chuckle in borderline embarrassment, as you try to get off the couch.

“No, Y/N, I’m serious,” he reacts, voice stern as he rests his palm on your leg to stop you from leaving. 

Though both pairs of eyes widen at that.

Because you never changed out from the mini black dress and when you moved earlier the fabric had ridden up your thighs.

So now Jimin’s palm lays on the top part of your smooth, bare thigh.

Instant heat washes over you, as you barely manage to mask the gasp bubbling up in your throat. Your eyes fall to his fingers, not daring to meet his gaze as you feel the warmth of his skin spreading through to yours.

Your heart beats wildly inside your chest and there’s a certain, familiar discomfort in the pit of your stomach.

He doesn’t move his hand. You can feel his eyes on you and there are goosebumps where his gaze trails on your skin.

You let your eyes find his own.

You’re not at all ready.

Not for the darkness in them, not for the haziness and tension, certainly not for the dark part in you that tells you there’s more to them than those things. No, not for the intensity and lust hidden in their dark depths.

No, you’re not ready.

But their existence is as tangible as it could ever be.

You can’t move, not an inch and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You’d choose not to. The heat in his stare sends chills down your arms, your cheeks scorching and your gaze falls to his plump lips, a sharp yet quiet inhale escaping you at just a small peek of his tongue.

And then you swear you feel-.

“Sup, guys? How have you been?” Hoseok’s voice fills the apartment as he steps inside from the front door. The sound of his cheerful entrance has you both instantly jumping away from each other in panic.

“Uhm, fine, we’ve been fine!” you struggle to reply, voice an octave higher as Jimin looks away and nods with you.

Hoseok takes off his shoes nonchalantly, not having a single clue about the thick tension in the air when he notices your outfit. He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “Did you go somewhere?”

You swallow nervously, foot tapping the floor. “Ah, yeah, I had a date…”

Hoseok looks ever more confused now for some unknown reason. “You did?” he asks, eyes moving to Jimin.

Jimin rushes to explain. “It got cancelled.”

“Ah… I see,” Hoseok replies as if somehow this makes more sense.

But you’re too preoccupied with Jimin’s proximity to question Hoseok’s reaction, instead focusing on trying to appear calm and not at all flustered and worked up as you are. You stand up from the couch as calmly as you can. Though you admit it’s not very much calmly. “Uh, yeah, so anyways I should go change. Goodnight guys!” you mumble quickly, eager to escape and you run off to your room.

Hoseok’s confusion is back when you disappear into your room and he turns to Jimin who also gets up and discreetly readjusts his pants. “What’s up with her?”

“Wouldn’t know. Actually, I’m quite sleepy too, so goodnight!” Jimin rushes to exclaim and then he’s off, walking rushedly towards his room.

Leaving Hoseok alone in the living room and baffled as hell.

.

.

Your legs can’t take you into your bedroom any faster and you rush to close the door with a slight lightness of breath.

Oh, god.

What just happened?

Your knees still feel weak, legs trembling and you immediately sit on the floor. Not trusting your limbs to carry you as far as your bed is, eyes and mouth wide in shock as you bring your hands to cool your heated cheeks.

You’re not crazy, you couldn’t have imagined this. You swear it wasn’t just your wishful thinking. No matter how much you want this, there’s no way your mind could have imagined such an intense way of staring. His eyes seemed like black holes, swallowing you whole and you would’ve gladly let him if Hoseok hadn’t interrupted.

Which reminds you. Right before Hoseok walked in you’re certain you felt the edges of his fingertips moving. And not away, as if belatedly realizing of his slip up.

Moving upwards.

“Fuck…” is your breathless realization, biting your lip as heat pools between your thighs. Making you reminisce of your little rendez-vous eight months ago and all the ways he made you feel, of how he felt pressed against you, inside you, drawing moans out of your lips as if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

How his mouth felt against your skin.

You slap some sense into yourself.

No! What were you thinking?! What was he thinking?! He has a girlfriend! A girlfriend whose sudden departure had him feeling upset merely hours ago. Maybe this behaviour was just a cry for attention caused by this event and you shouldn’t encourage it.

There was attraction, that is true. If there wasn’t any attraction between the two of you, you wouldn’t have slept together all those months ago in the first place. But this is not the time, nor the place. Not when he has a girlfriend and not when your feelings are so much more than just that.

It’s bad news and you gotta do your best to nip it in the bud. Crush it before the frustration gets any stronger and threatens to take hold of your sanity.

You let a deep breath infiltrate your lungs. As if the fresh air could bring a new sense of logic, resolve and determination to help you get through this unscathed.

You get up off the floor to get ready for sleep.

.

.

Only, it’s close to 4 am and you still can’t sleep.

You fuss around in your bed, the rustling of the sheets the only sound breaking the otherwise calm serenity of your dark bedroom.

You huff in annoyance, throwing the covers off of you, suddenly too warm for your liking. You’ve been trying to sleep for three hours now, but instead of blissful numbness, when your eyes close your mind is filled with the look in Jimin’s eyes from this afternoon. Turning you on despite your best efforts.

You sit up, back on your headboard, hands crossing over your chest as you tap your fingers on your arm. The shorts you wear to sleep feel uncomfortably stifling with sweat and you shuffle quickly out of them.

Only a particular movement has you clenching your thighs from the pleasurable friction on your clit and you bite your lip to keep the moan from spilling out.

Jimin’s dark eyes come to mind once more.

You inhale deeply, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, now dressed in only that and your panties. You bite your lip once more in thought and concealed shame.

You shouldn’t.

But your inhibitions don’t stop you from recalling that night.

{{You throw another shot down with a blissful smile as you watch Jimin do the same, only with significantly less enthusiasm than you. It’s already been one hour since you’ve been here, drinking your guts to help him move on, and already two girls walked away from him. It might be the way he slouches on the bar, droopy face that screams “recently dumped and still in love” but you refuse to leave here tonight without Jimin getting laid. Or at least having some fun.

“Come on, I’m sure someone else will approach you!” you nudge him playfully and Jimin scoffs as he proceeds to order another drink.

“Yeah, right. If anything I’ll just make a fool of myself again…” he grumbles, eyes focused on the empty shot glasses on the bar.

You throw an arm around his shoulders, determined to cheer him up. “Well, it’s because you’ve gotten rusty, bud! Give it some time, you’ll get better!” you observe vigorously, poking his cheek but the gloom expression doesn’t abandon him.

“I don’t think I will…” he mutters, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do.

“What? Why?” your perplexion is audible in your words and Jimin lets out a breath.

“I just… I don’t get why would anyone bother to approach me. What’s there to like anyway…?” he admits quietly. His eyes avoid yours but you can see the sorrow, the defeat lacing their edges. The response fills you with unbridled rage over how her insistent verbal abuse has seeped into his mind and made him question himself and his worth like this.}}

Even now, that rage hasn’t subsided completely, finding yourself getting pissed at how much his previous relationship with Dinah had ruined him.

{{“Follow me for a second,” you say through gritted teeth as you drag him out of his stool to a more quiet place of the bar.

You step into the hallway that leads to the rooftop with a pretty begrudging Jimin trailing after you. The corridor is currently devoid of people, hence rendering it the perfect spot for what you're about to say.

“Why are we here?” Jimin asks like a weary teenager, crossing his arms on his chest as he rests his body on the wall.

“We’re here because you’re a freaking idiot and people would’ve probably stared if I laid it on you back there! You seriously cannot believe there’s nothing likeable about you!” you scold him with your hands on your waist.

Jimin’s eyes fall to his shoes, a pout forming on his lips.

“Well, there isn’t…” he responds genuinely and you swear you’re gonna swat him with a broom.

“Well, better buckle up soldier ‘cause I’m about to send your princely ass to confidence town,” you declare with ferocity and Jimin regards you with a confused but amused smile.

“So am I a soldier or a prince, I’m confused.”

“You’re both, you’re a prince who served on the front line in the dragon war,” you respond, deciding to humour him, seeing at least that brings a smile back on his lips.

“Is that from your book?” he asks back, a very carefully-hidden smirk gracing his face.

“No, it’s not, I- Hey!” you stop once you realize what he’s been doing, “Stop distracting me! Now stop and listen to me you bastard!” you point your finger at him and his smile shows he’s not in the least sorry.

“People go crazy about you everywhere you go! Seriously you’re the most likeable person I know, I could see that even back in high school when we didn’t hang out as much! You’re just… You’re the most perfect human being ever!” you exclaim with zeal, desperate to make your best friend see himself as you do.

Jimin shakes his head even if a small blush starts to bloom on his cheeks. “Now you’re just messing with me…”

“No I’m not!” you interject, taking a step closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’re the kindest and smartest, I mean you passed your college exams with flying colours!” a shy smile graces his lips at that, “And on top of that, you’re so handsome! I mean look at your lips dude! People literally pay to get their lips like this!” an impromptu laugh escapes him and resonates in the empty hall, “And the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh is just plain adorable, but on the other hand girls - and guys - would kill to lick those abs, or have a grasp at your pecs,” you cite all of Jimin’s great characteristics, but in your desire to show him how perfect he is, a slight slip of the tongue happens.

“And your thighs-” you begin but instantly stop, regret filling your mind as soon as you realise what you were about to say.

Truth is you always had a weakness for his thighs. You admit, his body is pretty phenomenal as a whole but his thighs, in particular, are a certain weak spot for you. In shame, you admit you fantasized about them trapping you between them more than once.

But, alas, Jimin catches on that and he stands up straight, a questioning look in his eyes.

“What about my thighs…?” he asks curiously, eyes regarding you with interest as they dare you to continue. You swallow nervously and the movement has Jimin’s eyes glint with sudden realization. 

“Um, they… um,” you lose your train of thought as the look in his eyes changes to something darker and he takes a step closer.

“They are...um, toned!...” you say in relief at finding a pretty innocent word but Jimin doesn’t slow down. You take a step back.

“And…?” he demands, not at all satisfied by your explanation, unrelenting and asking for more. He takes another step forward to cover your own, diminishing the distance between you.

“And firm and… sturdy…” you mumble as if in a daze as the predatory glint in his eyes only grows.}}

In real-time, the look in Jimin’s eyes matches the one from earlier tonight and you rub your thighs together for some needed relief.

{{“And…?” he asks, voice low and commanding as he effectively traps you against the wall, palms resting on each side of your face, dark eyes pinning you in place.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden emptiness between your legs as your eyes fall to his plump lips.

“And... thick…” you finish softly, breathlessly as your chest moves quickly with each intake of breath, struggling to keep your head straight.}}

Your hands find their way down your body as if they have a mind of their own.

{{“So you like my thighs then…” he whispers, his breath fanning over your lips, a soft gasp rolling off your tongue.

“I- I don’t…” you don’t even manage to convince yourself and the predatory smile returns on his lips.}}

Your hand rests on the hem of your underwear.

{{“Really?... So…” he trails off, smirk ever-present as he slowly moves his right leg. “... it wouldn’t matter if I did this?....” he teases and presses his thigh against your clothed centre.}}

They move the article of clothing aside to press at your aching clit.

{{You don’t manage to conceal the gasp that trudges over to a moan, as his toned muscle presses against your panty-clad clit underneath your skirt. Your hands fly to grab at his biceps and a low chuckle falls from his lips as his face lowers towards your neck.

Your cunt clenches over nothing and your hips buck into his thigh desperately.

“Do you want more…?” he whispers with a tantalizing hum, intimately beneath your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel his thigh flexing against you as if teasing you about what’s to come if you say yes.

In your drunken and lust infused mind you can’t find a single reason to say no.}}

Your fingers move slowly, rolling the swollen nub between them as a quiet sigh breaks free from your lips, remembering the way his thigh felt against you. Your movements are soft, careful, not wanting to rush it as even more memories flood your mind.

{{It doesn’t take long for Jimin to take you home after you say yes. You drive back in his car, barely keeping your hands to yourself as he drives. It takes all your willpower not to make him stop the car and ride him in the middle of the street. Instead, you only let one hand palm him through his jeans and the other dive beneath your skirt to toy with your folds. Pleasuring both of you at the same time and having Jimin going completely mad with want, a promise hiding in his eyes as he drives.

Once you reach your building, you’re immediately on each other, not caring who might see. You climb up the old stairs in a haze, hands exploring each other’s bodies, grabbing at the tender part, lips tracing the exposed skin until you reach your apartment. Your back hits the front door, a moan rolling off your tongue and Jimin swallows it eagerly as his lips devour yours.

His hands are rough at your hips, grinding his crotch against you, your bare thighs rubbing against the roughness of his jeans as you blindly search for your keys.

“Could you- could you stop for a second and help me get the door…” you mumble against his mouth when your fingers finally grasp at the metallic key in your pocket.

Jimin doesn’t stop kissing you though. “Honestly, I don’t mind fucking you senseless against it,” he growls at you, biting your bottom lip as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Fuck…” the image his words paint arouse you a great deal more than what you’d like to admit. Your head hits the door as the image floods your mind.

“No, we can’t…” you say, still somehow self-conscious, “People might see…” you mumble with closed eyes as Jimin leaves open-mouthed kisses on your collar bones.

“Let them see then…” he responds with confidence as he grips at your chin and forces you to look at him.

His eyes are hooded, completely dark under his heavy gaze on you. He licks his lips as he stares at you like he wants to ravish you and you lean your head down to capture his thumb between your lips.

You stare at him innocently through your eyelashes, sucking the digit into your mouth. Jimin’s eyes widen even more. You roll your tongue teasingly around him, making sure your eyes remain on him, as he breathes heavily and then you let it go with a loud “pop”.

Jimin stares back at you. Tongue running across his bottom lip before-.

“Fuck, okay, okay. I changed my mind. I don’t want anyone seeing you like this but me.” he curses softly, before taking the keys from your hands to open the door.}}

Your fingers are faster now, soft whimpers falling from your lips. Too quiet for anyone to hear as your other hand travels beneath your T-shirt to grasp at your breast.

{{You’re a mess of limbs and kisses as you stumble towards Jimin’s room. Jackets have been discarded somewhere in the living room and you don’t even bother on closing the door. Hoseok’s is bound to spend the evening at Ana’s, so you don’t have to worry about being quiet either. You have the place to yourselves.

“I want to suck you off, can I suck you off?” you mumble between kisses, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You can’t wait to feel the weight of his length on your tongue and judging by how he’s straining against his jeans you’d say he can’t wait either.

Another curse rolls from his tongue as he rushes to help you undo the last few buttons. “Yes. Fuck yes,” he grunts in anticipation once his shirt is off.

You push him to sit at the edge of his bed, too impatiently. You kneel between his legs, hands running up and down his thighs as he leans back, palms supporting his weight against the mattress as he stares at you lazily, biting his lip.

You let your eyes wander over the expanse of his smooth chest, taking in the sight of his sturdy muscles, his perked up nipples and his sculpted abs. A high pitched whine escapes you at how absolutely perfect he is. You want to ruin him.

Jimin smirks lazily at you. “Like what you see?”

You only nod, licking your lips and indulging yourself.

You move upwards carefully, placing a few butterfly kisses against his chest, letting your tongue roll over his nipples, which he greatly appreciates if his loud moans are anything to get by.}}

You roll one perked nipple beneath your fingertips. A quiet moan comes off your lips in response and you buck your hips into your hand, aching for something more.

{{You move lower, letting your tongue trail the edges of his abs. The warm muscle drives the man insane by the traitorous pace it takes as his chest rises and falls with every breath.

His hand winds up tangled in your hair, threading through the lock to tug softly at the roots and making you groan in arousal.

You’re quick in unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them downwards until they’re off. Anticipation rolls over you in waves as you move to the waistband of his boxers and Jimin tucks some strands away from your face.

You let his cock spring free and it taps against his stomach. Your mouth salivates at the sight. Pulsating veins run down its shaft, its head a pretty pink, tip glistening with precum and you lick your lips with wanton. He’s not very big, not in length, but the size of his girth seems to compensate for that more than enough. He’s thick, thicker than what you’re used to and even if you had some lengthier ones, you’re sure this one will put them all to shame.

Jimin’s patience runs low and a low whine echoes in his dulcet voice.

“Don’t just stare at it…” he mumbles and for the first time since the club, he sounds almost shy. Something which makes your stomach flip in arousal.

A smirk meets his eyes as you lower your head, his hand still in your locks and you take a tentative lick at the tip.

Jimin lets out a shuddering breath, eyes never abandoning you or your movements as you rest your hands at his thighs for leverage. You keep on teasing him, feeling his muscles tense beneath your palms and a crooked smile paints your lips.

You lower your mouth again, taking his head into your wet cavern and a soft moan breaks free from Jimin’s lips. His hand tightens its grip at your hair, nudging softly forward, not enough to be forceful but enough to clue you into what he wants.

Instead, you hollow your cheeks and a sharp gasp escapes him.}}

Finally, you move your underwear aside to tease your entrance and proceed to insert one finger into your throbbing cunt.

{{You begin moving your head up and down his length slowly, torturously and his eyes roll back into his head as it lols back. You don’t increase your pace, letting your jaw adjust to his wide girth, slowly letting each inch delve into your mouth. 

“Fuck…, you-” Jimin tries to talk only for another gasp to tear through his lips as you take him deeper. Coating him with your saliva and hollowing your cheeks again. He moans loudly, his hand rolling your hair into a fist, tugging at the roots as you take him fully, feeling him resting heavily on your tongue.

You pick up the pace steadily, bobbing your head and nails digging into the unmarred skin of his thighs. A hiss tumbles from his mouth in response.

You readjust your position to take off your shirt and bra. You then put more weight into your knees to give your full focus on sucking him off. You keep your cheeks hollowed, going faster and faster, a sturdy grip on Jimin’s bare thighs as your eyes remain stuck on his face.

You swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Jimin’s face as he drowns in pleasure. His eyes are tightly shut, scrunched in concentration to not miss the feeling of your mouth on him. His mouth is agape as he struggles to breathe properly, soft gasps escaping his mouth instead.

It strikes you hard; how magnificently ruined he looks. How absolutely wrecked you have him, and the stickiness in your underwear grows knowing he looks like this because of you.

Then he opens his eyes lazily, orbs lost in desire and as they rest on your bare tits, his hips instinctively buck into your mouth with a cry before he stops himself.}}

You take a quick break to stop yourself from finishing too early and instead pay attention back to your clit.

{{“Fuck, stop for a second…” he breathes out harshly, pushing you away from his cock as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Why?” you say thoroughly confused and Jimin chuckles breathlessly at your puppy stare. He then moves forward to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Cause I was about to cum on your tits and I’d rather do that inside you…” he whispers against your mouth and you find yourself biting your lip to suppress a moan.

“Now please let me taste you…” he mumbles seductively as he forces you up. You stand up in front of him, his head in level with your breasts. His eyes stare up at you, wide and deceptively innocent before he wraps his mouth around one nipple and rolls it with his tongue. You gasp out loud, arching your chest against him for more. His fingers graze your thighs in the meantime, moving upwards to wrap around your underwear and get rid of it, leaving you bare beneath your skirt.

“I don’t…” another gasp interrupts your words as he runs a finger through your folds. “I don’t think I have the patience for that…” you stutter, hips rolling over his fingers.

A harsh suck at your nipple has you crying out loud, grabbing at Jimin’s locks. While he drives two fingers in you, without warning.

“Fuck, Jimin!” your high pitched protest resonates around the apartment and Jimin curses, moving the two fingers slowly inside you.

“Fuck, you take my fingers so well, baby…” he murmurs against your chest, his low timbre sounding like heaven in your ears. His fingers move slowly against your walls, just barely find your g-spot that has you seeing stars.

“You’re so wet, look at you…” he brings the two fingers between you. They glisten in the soft light of his nightstand, strands of your arousal connecting the two digits as he moves them into a V shape. He stares at them, mesmerised before pushing one digit into his mouth. He moans at the taste, before pushing the other finger towards your lips.

Instead, you grasp at both fingers and suck at them obediently, making sure to suck all your slick from his fingers. Your eyes remain on Jimin, whose eyes almost roll in bliss.

“Okay. Fuck, okay. Get that skirt off and get on the bed,” comes his urgent reply as he all but throws you on the mattress after the skirt has joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You lay across his sheets, spreading your legs wide for him and Jimin all but falls on his face trying to take off his boxers, making you giggle in response.

Once they’re off, his movements are more smooth as he steps on to the bed. His eyes are dark, swimming in a pool of desire, never straying away from your face as he crawls towards you. His hands rest on each side of your head, hips pressing against your own as his eyes fall to your lips.

You’re breathing heavily underneath him, chest brushing against him with every breath and you arch your back to press closer against him.

“Do you have a condom…?” you say before biting softly at his earlobe, your hand wrapping sloppily around his thick length.

He bucks into your palm desperately before he nods. He reaches his hand on his nightstand, never leaving the warmth of your body, and grabs the foil package. You take it from him and rip it open with your teeth, too fucked out to wait and Jimin gapes at you as you pretend not to notice the twitch on his dick.

You roll it on him as he lets out a long breath and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Are you sure about this…?” he asks cautiously, giving you one last chance to step back.

You grab at his neck to push him downwards into a kiss. Your lips are rough against him and he presses further, letting his tongue dive into your mouth to find your own. Your kiss is sloppy, urgent, not caring for tenderness. Getting you even more aroused as Jimin instinctively rolls his hips against yours.

“Okay, got it,” is his answer to your kiss. His hand grasps at his cock and giving it a few pumps before sheathing inside you with one sharp thrust.}}

You let two of your fingers dive inside you at the memory, drawing a long moan, quiet enough to be heard only in the confinements of your own room.

{{Both of you moan loudly at the intrusion, feeling complete and utter fullness with the way Jimin is pulsating inside you. It takes a while to get used to him, breathing slowly to help yourself relax as Jimin presses soft kisses to the skin above your breasts.

Soon though his kisses turn hungrier, messier, bordering into bites and you can’t help but moan and clench at the sensation.

Jimin hisses and reacts with another sharp thrust, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull in pleasure.

He starts a brutal pace, slow but rough deliberate thrusts, moving you further into the bed.

He pushes your legs on your chest in a new position, as he leans on top of you and drives his cock even deeper into you. He hits your g-spot almost repeatedly, having you crying out and your eyes well up by how good it feels.

“Fuck, Jimin, fuck, don’t stop…” you cry breathlessly even though Jimin doesn’t seem like stopping anytime soon.}}

In real-time, you pick up the pace of your fingers, driving them deeper to press against your g-spot, as you keep panting upon your sheets.

{{“Fuck. You. Feel. So. Good.” he punctuates each word with a thrust, as they come out in loud, rough growls, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as precipitation gathers at his temples, wet hair hanging in front of his eyes.

You cry out in ecstasy with every rough snap of his hips, shifting your hips to feel more of him, desperate for as much as he can give.

Then Jimin stands upright, grabbing your legs to push them into his chest and away from your own, wrapping around them and using them as leverage. His movements don't stop and he grunts lowly with each thrust, making you see stars each time he hits your g-spot.

He pants above you, driving his hips deeper into you, his muscles taut as he flexes his thighs and his thrusts become even rougher.

“Shit, Jimin…” you plead yet you don’t know what for as his motions make your body move up and down against the mattress.

“What is it, baby? Tell me,” he hisses, eyes furrowed as he stares at your lips. “I’ll give it to you…” he grunts, his thrusts now matching his pants, hands getting tighter at the supple flesh of your hips.

“Jimin, please…” you whine, driving your hand to tap on your clit to clue him in.

He curses again, bating your hand away for one of his own to land against your nub and begin rubbing circles into it.}}

You remove your other hand from your chest to press at your clit as you drive two fingers harshly into your soaked pussy with the other. You feel your high approaching and you don’t dare stop.

{{You scream in pleasure at the added friction, legs moving as Jimin releases them to wrap around his waist. You drive your heels against his ass to press his cock further into you.

“How are you so fucking wet for me, huh? Did my thighs turn you on this much, baby?” he asks harshly as his fingers pick up their pace, sending you into a wholly new sensation.

You moan out loud at his words, nodding your head quickly as if you’ve gone mad. “Yes, fuck, Jimin. I love your thighs, love how thick they are. Wanna rub my cunt all over them, want my clit to go numb with how hard I rub it on them. Want my folds to leak on top of them and stain your jeans. Fuck!” you yelp when your words have Jimin giving a particularly rough thrust.

“Fuck, yeah baby that’s right. Those thighs are gonna make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he hisses from above you, spreading your legs, the stretch burning delightful as another groan falls from your hips.

Finally, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, high-pitched moans echoing inside the room and your cunt begins clenching uncontrollably.

Jimin realises this as his hips move even harder against yours and his fingers are relentless on your clit. “Are you gonna cum baby? Are you gonna cum like the dirty little slut you are?”

His words send you over the edge with a loud cry of his name.}}

You repeat the words over and over in your head until you’re a sobbing mess and come harder than you ever did before pressing your palm on your mouth to prevent any noise from getting out.

You lay on your bed spent and breathless, the memory ebbing away once you’re satisfied and your limbs are relaxed in a blissful numbness.

But, that soon also ebbs away, giving its spot to shame.

You just rubbed one off to Jimin.

And yeah okay you did sleep with him once, but you hadn’t used the memories to pleasure yourself before.

Oh god, this is getting out of hand.

You gotta end this crush of yours before it devours you.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Escaping Expulsion" From The Owl House

Salutations random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Do you wanna know what I love the most about The Owl House? The writers waste no time getting to the good stuff.

Things like Willow working things out with Amity, Lumity, Lilith's redemption, and Luz's fight with Belos are stuff that most shows would drag out and wait upon using until several seasons down the line. Most of them for the final season. And yet, it all happens in the first! The writers somehow knew what the fans exactly wanted and gave them just that before they even had to ask.

Take "Escaping Expulsion," for example, as it has some great plot points and ideas I thought would happen later in the season and maybe even near the end. But it's only episode TWO of the new season, and I'm appreciative of it for that reason alone.

But explaining the good stuff this episode delivers requires spoilers, so if you haven't watched the episode yet (even though you definitely have at this point), I recommend that you do so. Now let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Blight Industries: Huh. I'll be the first to admit: I would have never expected that the main reason why the Blights are rich is because of their technological advancements. Large in part of how the Boiling Isles is a fantasy world, and rarely do you see technology taking place in a setting such as that. Still, points for total expectation subversion added with some pretty cool tech, I might add.

Odalia Blight: It's nice to put a face to the name I've grown to hate with a fiery passion. Now I can update my dartboard!

But to tell you the truth, it feels weird saying I like someone so vile. I mean, the woman is a manipulative, smarmy b-word who nearly killed Luz. Anybody who does that last part deserves to go on my s**t list! I despise her with the same fiery passion I've had since "Understanding Willow" premiered...and it's that reason why I like her.

Because here's the thing: Characters and people are two different things. If Odalia existed in real life, she better hope that I never meet her. But as a character whose purpose is to have the audience hate her, she succeeds with flying colors. It's the same reason why I consider it unfair to hate an episode like "Something Ventured and Someone Framed" because Mattholomule exists. I get it but understand that hating him is his purpose. It's the same with Odalia. I love her, but only because I love to hate her.

Alador Blight: Wow. I guess Alador really is the lesser of two evils.

By the way, keep in mind that I said "lesser of two evils" and not "the nice one." I don't care how adorable it is to see him get distracted by a butterfly. He's still an abusive figure who stood aside as Luz fought for her life against the Abomitron and still goes along with Odalia's plans despite how heinous they are. And whenever I remember how he treated Amity in "Understanding Willow" as well--

Also, don't make him neurodivergent so he can seem redeemable. It is painfully obvious that he is just exhausted after hours of toiling away in his lab working on his inventions to the point that his brain is beyond fried.

Now, seeing that I've dismissed the argument about how Alador is the nice one, let's actually talk about his character. Because I can see what Dana Terrace meant when she said that he's interesting. He's not explicitly as awful as Odalia, as he mostly seems to be in his own little world half the time. Despite that, Alador still shows signs of being just as dismissive of Amity in general. You see this as he focuses on how her strength shows signs of Amity being a potential coven leader instead of noticing how his daughter nearly died to his own invention. Alador doesn't manipulate, but he doesn't love his daughter in a way a father should either. I'm very intrigued by this route for his character, and I can't wait to see what is done next with him.

Amity’s Amulet: My heart sank when I realized the true purpose behind Amity's amulet. The thought that Odalia found a way to literally be in Amity's head at all times...I hate that. I mean, I love it because it's A+ storytelling and symbolism, BUT I F**KING HATE IT!

Amity in General: And seeing how we're already talking about Amity, let's dive into the fact that "Escaping Expulsion" is easily her best outing so far in the series. I say this because it really puts to the test Amity's dedication to being a part of the group. You can tell by her expressions and Mae Whitman's performance that Amity so desperately wants to help her friends, but she can't due to being afraid of her mother's wrath. Which doesn't surprise me, given what we know about Odalia so far. But what does surprise me is that Amity stands up to Odalia in this very same episode. I expected it for sure, but most likely at the end of the season, due to most shows dragging out a similar concept for drama's sake. However, as I said, the writers don't waste time giving the fans what they want. So, yeah, Amity defies her mother in the very same episode we're officially introduced to her. And it's totally believable, as Amity has been fighting her parent's control ever since Luz literally showed her the light after "Covention" (click here if you don't believe me). It's yet another impressive showcase of Amity's character development and how she's leagues ahead of other redeemable characters who would go through five more episodes like this before getting to the point.

Luz in General: But enough about Amity. For now, let's talk about the actual best character of the series!

Just like Amity, Luz is on top form in "Escaping Expulsion." She is quick to call 'applesauce' about Odalia and Alador expelling the Hex-Squad and is smart enough to figure out the deal Odalia is worming her way into making. Several people classify Luz as stupid, and while she definitely leaps before she looks at times, this episode proves that Luz isn't going to fall for the sweet talk that someone like Odalia offers. As reckless as she can be, Luz is still intelligent enough to know what someone like Odalia wants and cuts to the chase despite knowing the woman can't be trusted. Still, Luz going through with the deal anyways is fantastic character work for her as it shows her dedication to the people she cares about. It hurts my heart to see Luz get all beat up from Alador's inventions, but her willingness to put up with it for her friends is an act of service I wouldn't have expected from anyone else. "Escaping Expulsion" may be more centered around Amity, but it still proves why Luz earns her spot for one of my favorite characters.

Learning How Glyphs Work: Another solid aspect of The Owl House is that the writers find brilliant ways for world-building and explaining the rules of the Boiling Isles. Take this episode's b-plot, for instance. Eda and Lilith need to learn how to do Luz's version of magic, so having an entire section of the episode dedicated to them figuring it out is a perfect outlet to explain how glyphs work in the first place. Although, I have some tribulations with this subplot that I'll get into with the dislikes. But I still consider this a brilliant workaround to explain glyphs, even if specific executions could be handled better.

The Fairy Pie: Not only is this well-crafted dark humor, and not only is it adorable as hell, but it also shows how Amity has calmed down with her feelings toward Luz. She still blushes when handing over the fairy pie, but it is certainly more subdued in comparison to "Wing it Like Witches." I like to think the time off from her (and our) favorite weirdo helped cool down those emotions a bit, but that doesn't mean she won't get slightly flustered every now and again. Because as much as I adore seeing cool and collective, I'm still very much a fan of Disaster Amity due to how cute it is.

Principle Bump: "This character is underappreciated!"

"That character doesn't get enough love!"

YOU WANNA KNOW WHO'S UNDERAPPRECIATED AND DOESN'T GET ENOUGH LOVE?! PRINCIPAL GOSH DANG BUMP, THAT'S WHO!

So many kids' shows focus on how educators are the bad guy who treats students poorly because they love seeing children suffer. But that's not Bump! Sure, he made a misstep in "The First Day," but for the most part, he really cares for his students and hopes that they work hard to be their better selves. So when he's forced to send Luz, Gus, and Willow away, he's genuinely saddened by it to the point where he breaks down crying! On top of being wholesome, Bump missing his students is another example that a character shouldn't be written as evil just because they run a school. Sure, there are scumbag teachers and principals out there, but for others, they're a lot like Bump: People who show admiration and respect to their students rather than ridicule because a principle "just doesn't get it." And I appreciate Bump all the more for it.

Gus and Willow: It feels weird that these two basically got sidelined, especially since they have a stake in the plot as well, but it's understandable. "Escaping Expulsion" is clearly more Amity-centered, and with Luz being the main character, it would also be odd if she didn't get more of the focus than her friends. Having them do more would have been great, but what they've already accomplished is pretty decent anyway. They show how much they're on the same page as Luz when trying to figure out a way to sneak back into Hexide, Willow is still the best voice of reason when saying no one will be killed through their plans, and Gus wins the comedic highlights in the episode. While I would have loved that they did more, I'm perfectly fine with what we got. Besides, this is only episode two of Season Two. We got nineteen more episodes to go to focus on these two.

King: Ok, now, this is the version of King I like to see. A character that mocks Eda as if they're equals and acts as a reluctant voice of reason. This episode shows King more at his best and is a major step above what we've seen in "Separate Tides."

Lilith: ...Yeah, f**k it. I like Lilith.

Personally, I would have preferred seeing her dragged through the coals at least a few episodes, but that's judging the show for what I want. Not what it is. And as is...It's fine. Lilith has a great dynamic with the rest of the Owl House, it's honestly adorable seeing her refer to Luz as a teacher, and that scene where she makes presents out of ice for Hooty is all kinds of wholesome. I'd say your enjoyment of Lilith highly depends on how forgiving you are, and if you think her splitting the curse is enough of a gesture, you probably won't mind her as much. The execution of her redemption really could have used more time in the oven, but Lilith is still a decent character regardless, so what's to complain about.

Luz Making the Abomination Have a Cat Face: ...Luz...I f**king missed you.

DON'T EVER LEAVE FOR THAT LONG AGAIN!

(Also, I just love that this is all Amity needed to know Luz was in trouble)

Hop Pop Cameo: He's on the cover of one of the books Willow's dad lifts up. Which is extra cute given how Dana Terrace and Matt Braley (creator of Amphibia) are close friends in real life.

Willow’s Dad Pretending Not to See Anything: One single action defines the type of man this guy is. He's the fun and understanding dad!

Gus, Willow, and Amity Arguing How to Break In: This little quarrel just shows how much these three need Luz. Without someone to keep the peace and bring up compromises, these idiots would have just kept arguing all night.

In addition to that, this clash over ideas acts as a showcase for who these characters are. Willow is careful and smart, so she's going for the option more unlikely to get them caught. Amity is brash and to the point, so she's going for the route that gets them inside as soon as possible. And then there's Gus, who's young and naive, so his plan sounds like something out of a cartoon. The odds of any of these plans working are highly debatable, but seeing these characters with clashing personalities and ideas is a ton of fun to watch regardless.

Edric and Emira Helping: There's not much to add here. It's just another sweet scene that makes me so glad that the writers decided to make Ed and Em more like supporting characters than minor antagonists like "Lost in Language" made fans think they would be.

(Amity throwing the "Hex me" signs back at Edric is just the cherry on top).

“Stay away from my Luz!”: ...What the f**k do you want me to say that? It's f**king perfect!

Luz Catching Feelings for Amity: ...Huh. Neat.

...

...Alright, let's move on.

Luz Wanting to Take a Nap After--Yeah, I can't do it. Not even for the joke.

WAH-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO! MU! TU! AL! PINING! AH-HAHAHA!

THIS! This is more of that good s**t I'm talking about! Due to being so used to other shows going for the slow burn when writing the endgame romance, I was expecting Luz to catch feelings halfway through the season, even at the end of it. But near the beginning?! That is something I am more than ok with!

And much like Amity standing up to her parents in this episode, Luz catching feelings this early on is totally believable. Many fans have already analyzed how Luz's love language is "Acts of Service," which I'm somewhat sure is romantic gestures. Meaning that I f**king challenge you to find a grander gesture than holding back a literal killing machine while swooping down like a knight in shining armor! Oh, wait, you can't. BECAUSE THERE ISN'T ANY!

But by far, the best--the BEST--thing that can come from this is the dramatic irony! We, the audience, know that Luz and Amity like each other, but they don't. So the constant failings as these two fools try to work out their romantic feelings for one another is something I cannot wait to see in all its glory.

This is one of the best things that could have come out of the episode, and while it doesn't mean Lumity is canon, it is definitely closer than ever before. And I'm excited about all of it!

Luz Wanting to Take a Nap After Getting Home: I adore this because there's no one way that this can be interpreted. Either it's because Luz is exhausted after nearly getting killed for the fifteenth time that month, or it's because Luz is overwhelmed about having a crush on Amity...or both. Most likely both.

Belos Wanting The Abomatrons: Wow, what an ominous ending to the episode! I'm sure it won't come into play at all in the future...The season finale is going to hurt, isn't it?

WHAT I DISLIKED

Gus’ Growth Spurt: I mean...that's just weird. Gus suddenly being almost as tall as the others is a change so jarring that I feel like an explanation other than "witch puberty" is required. I get that they wanted to explain away why Issac Ryan Brown's voice got deep this season, 'cause puberty's a b**ch. But sometimes I feel like it's best to just ignore it, like with how Phineas and Ferb or Steven Universe just goes along with the fact that VAs tend to grow up when the characters themselves remain ageless.

Eda is Kinda Stupid in this One: It's not just me, right? Because I feel like Eda is more careful in the past than she is in this episode. She's been as reckless as Luz is at times, sure, but carelessly screwing around with magic when she has no idea how it works? I can maybe see King doing that, but not Eda. Just seeing her act dumber than usual is something that doesn't sit right with me.

Lilith Explaining Her Glyph Magic: I don't mind this. Glyph magic is pretty confusing, so having Lilith explain how it works to Eda and the audience is something I can understand. My issue, however, lies in how they did this.

Why, in the name of all that is holy, would Lilith explain her theory after the fact. It would be much more natural if she explained while saving King, but doing it after comes across as more forced than it should. Which is a shame because this series is usually on point when explaining how things work in the Boiling Isles.

And...That's about all the complaints I have with this episode. Which are nothing but nitpicks and possibly personal preferences.

IN CONCLUSION

If I'm willing to forgive and forget, I would give "Escaping Expulsion" a well-earned A+. But I'm not, so it's going to be another solid A. And, I mean, if you complain about that...there's something wrong with you.

"Escaping Expulsion" delivers on quite a bit of what fans want to see on top of giving these great character moments that show why we love these casts of oddballs and weirdos. I wouldn't say it reached perfection, but it still carries the winning streak that this new season has so far. Meaning there's no escaping the fact that Season Two is off to a better start than the first.

(Although, the fact that we got two solid As in a row means that we're in for a stinker real soon, doesn't it?)

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

Not Broken Part 15 (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Jaehyun X Reader

Not Broken Masterlist

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten’s a cross-dressing madam so….. yeah read it ya freaks.

This chapter is dedicated to @rinzennie​ who designed a lovely banner for the Not Broken Masterlist. Thank you so much for your support!

Trigger warning: Mentions of abuse. Light depictions of self harm and suicide 

Taeyong led us into the parlor room where Jeno was already waiting for us along with two other staff members.  

Mere moments after we arrived, we heard the sounds of an approaching car engine. Jeno nodded at Taeyong and then towards the two staff members who quickly positioned themselves in front of the two large entrance doors.  

Taeyong leaned in before whispering, “Don’t look so nervous. You’ll be fine.”

I nodded, grateful for his words of encouragement though my nerves were anything but soothed.

As the two men opened the doors, bright ribbons of light began to shine violently through the increasing gap. After having spent several days cooped up inside, my eyes were more irritated than appreciative towards the unanticipated blast of vitamin d.  

Before my eyes could fully adjust to the light, both Taeyong and Haechan were gone from my side. Once I caught a glimpse of their vanishing figures, I began to follow shortly behind.  

“Mrs. Lee! What a pleasure it is to see you!” Taeyong greeted, opening the door of the sleek black Hyundai.

Despite it being bright out, I was unable to even see anything except darkness stirring from within the car. When Taeyong extended his hand out, I realized why that was the case. A black glove covered hand reached out towards Taeyong’s, only instead of accepting the gesture, it handed him a large black leather bag. Taeyong was caught off guard by the action and almost fell forward from the abrupt weight he had been entrusted with holding. I instinctively took a step forward, intent on helping him out but Haechan held me in place by my arm.

“Watch, you’re not gonna wanna miss this,” He chuckled, a wicked grin etched on his face.  

A thin figure dressed head to toe in black slowly emerged from the expensive car which sported a similar hue.  

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I definitely wasn’t expecting this.  

Her outfit looked like that of a 19th century widower still mourning the loss of her husband... but sexy?  

Crushed velvet wrapped itself around her curvy frame. The dress’s hovered only a few inches above the pavement. Every inch of her skin was covered, but by a fabric so tight I could easily see the Madam owning such an ensemble. Everything except for the hat at least, which was draped in a loose charcoal colored netting that covered the wearer’s face completely.  

I watched as she pulled the netting away from her face, lifting it to reveal a face much younger than I had been expecting. From the looks of it, she couldn’t have been older than 36, even though that couldn’t be the case as Jaehyun was 22. That’s when I remembered that Jaehyun was adopted when he was eight years old, so it wasn’t impossible for her to only be in her mid-thirties.  

She looked around, paying no mind to Taeyong as he continued to greet her. When her eyes caught sight of Jeno unloading her bags, she cried out his name.  

“Jeno!”  

Jeno had just finished setting down a rather large suitcase when he was ambushed by the former lady of the house. I watched her pull the taller towards her, causing him to stumble into her embrace.  

“Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She squealed, only allowing him to withdraw from her arms so she could get a good look at him.

“Goodness, Jeno! You’ve lost so much weight! Your cheeks are practically concave!”  

Her hands reached out to grab at the fleshy tissue which was painted red with embarrassment. I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. I wondered how anyone could ever look at Jeno and see someone who was slowly withering away.  

Despite his flustered state, Jeno smiled at the woman, his eyes disappearing into little crescents.  

“How are you Mrs. Lee? It’s been quite a while since we last spoke.”

“Mrs. Lee?! Jeno, I needn’t remind you again. I will not be referred to by my former title, especially not by you.  I am no longer the lady of the house and nor is my late husband the current master. Thus, I shall not be referred to by hisfamily name. Let the staff know that I shall only be addressed with my given name, Ho. You, however, are family. You may call me by either of my first names.”

“Ah. Yes, Hyun-ju.” Jeno corrected himself.

There was something off about her voice, something I couldn’t quite place. While her manner of speaking wasrefined in nature, her nasally accent made her sound more thuggish in a way. Despite the apparent roughness in her tone, I found it almost comforting in a way I didn’t understand. It felt familiar.  

“How are things going with that that boyfriend of yours? Is he adjusting well to working with the children?” She whispered to Jeno.

Jeno nodded.  

“I had yours and Mr. Lee’s old bedroom prepared for your arrival,” Taeyong announced, interrupting their reunion.

“Why on earth would you think I’d want to sleep in a room filled with reminders of my late husband? I mean really, Taeyong. Use your head for once!”

“Ah. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Taeyong apologized sheepishly.

“I will be staying in one of the guest rooms in the north wing so that I can be near my daughter-in-law. Now, where is she?”  

Haechan’s elbow dug into my side reinforcing that I had been summoned.  

To say that I was nervous would have been an understatement. If I wanted Jaehyun to keep his word, I’d have to make as good of an impression as I could on.  

“Hello,” I quietly greeted, drawing her attention to my presence.  

The woman slowly strutted towards me, pausing to take in my appearance I as I had done with hers. Her cold eyes were somehow more frightening than even her son’s. I didn’t know that such a stare could be passed down from parent to child, especially those who lacked common blood.

I held my breath, sure that I had already somehow managed to spoil her first impression of me. I braced myself for whatever cold response was coming my way when her eyes began to crinkle.  

She was smiling. No, not just smiling; she was laughing.  

“Oh sweetie, don’t look so scared! I don’t bite! And speak up, will you? I know you can, us being cut from the same cloth and all.”

Suddenly, it became clear as to why her voice sounded so familiar.  

“You’re American?” I asked, making sure to speak clearly.  

“Born in N’York but grew up on the streets of Jersey. At least till’ I got a nice gig here in Seoul. H’bout you? Where ya from?”  

I was taken aback when Mrs. Ho’s formal Korean was suddenly replaced with crass English. I was so caught off guard that I could only gawk at her in response.

“What’s wrong with ya? Cat got ya tongue?”

I swallowed before responding in English.

“Oh, umm. I moved around a lot, but I guess you could say I grew up in Colorado.”

I became aware that Mrs. Ho was smacking her gum as she listened. I explained the states that I had lived in, heronly interjecting to say, “uh huh,” “yeah,” or “I see.” When I was done, she looked at me expectantly.  

“Yes?” I asked, still nervous.

“Well, go on then.”

I stared blankly.

Mrs. Ho rolled her eyes, though telling from the smirk on her face, she seemed more amused than annoyed.

“Introduce ya’self. Tell me ya name.”  

“Oh! Umm.”

“Come on now, spit it out. I ain’t got all day.”

“Y/N,” I finally answered.

“Y/N, huh? Well, you can call me by my English name, Jessi.”

I hesitated, unsure whether it was really okay for me to refer to her so casually.  

“Why? What’s the matter? Don't tell me ya surprised. We’re family now after all.”

“Oh, okay.”  

Wow she really has a lot of names.  

“Great, now that that’s settled.”

Jessi turned back towards the car where Jeno and Taeyong were standing idly by.  

“Taeyong, bring my bags to my room,” She ordered, switching back to Korean.

“Mrs. Lee- I mean, Hyun-ju, I can bring your bags in,” Jeno vocalized.

A relieved look spread across Taeyong’s features.  

“Nonesense! Jeno, honey, you and I need to go over the plans for this week. Let Taeyong do it, he could use a bit of weight training.”

“PFFFFT!”  

Haechan struggled to maintain his composure as a string of muffled giggles escaped from the short male.  

“This is going to be a hell of a week, isn’t it, Y/N?”  

<><><>

Haechan led me back to my room while Mrs. Ho, or Jessi as she told me to call her, got settled in. A few hours later Jeno came by to inform me that I had been summoned to her room. As we walked, Jeno took the time to give me advice on how to get along with the former lady of the house and also to quiz me on my backstory.  

“She says that she wants to get to know you before jumping straight into matters regarding the wedding,” Jeno informed me.

When we got to the door, Jeno knocked a few times before entering.  

The room was smaller than what I had anticipated. It was still much larger than the bedroom I was staying in, but I couldn’t imagine that Jaehyun’s mother would turn down the master bedroom in favor of more modest accommodations. The bed was littered in neatly folded clothing, which Jessi was currently organizing into drawers. Though she was well aware that we had entered the room, Jessi continued to place the articles one by one into the dresser as we stood and watched.  

Once the top drawer was closed shut, she turned to face us.  

“Sorry about that, I guess I still had a bit more unpacking to do when I asked you to come.”

“It’s no bother,” I replied humbly.  

Jessi hummed in approval before switching her focus onto Jeno.  

“Jeno, do be a sweetheart and leave us ladies to engage in a bit of gossip.”

She smiled sweetly at Jeno who nodded before making a swift exit from the room.  

It was just us now.  

Jessi gestured towards a nearby chair which I promptly sat in. Instead of sitting in the chair across mine, she began to walk away.  

“Now I know that you were probably nervous to meet me and that you probably just as nervous now,” She spoke using the same formal manner she used earlier,

She paused, glancing back at me expectantly.  

“Oh, um I-” I couldn’t help but stutter.  

“Oh, no. I understand completely. It can be a daunting thing, meeting your mother-in-law. Let me assure you that I am very much impressed with what I’ve seen so far. I mean, why wouldn’t I be? You’re beautiful, polite although a bit tense, and anyone who can manage to win my Jaehyun’s heart has to be interesting. Plus, I heard from Taeyong, that you’re more than willing to challenge him when you see fit.”  

I allowed myself to relax a bit.

“That’s always a good thing in my book,” She chuckled.

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling more at ease with myself.

“But...”

My eyes widened; my relief short-lived.  

Uh oh.

“But I must say that I find performative niceties to be more tiring than charming.”

Jessi pulled her purse from the ground and began walking back towards me.

“If you plan on putting on a façade to earn my approval, then you won’t get it. Agreeable people bore me.”

Jessi pushed the open chair closer to mine so that when she finally sat down, her knees were mere inches away from mine.  

“I want to get to know who’s really marrying my Jaehyun, not who you think I want marrying him.”

My heart felt like it was sinking deeper and deeper into my wounded ribcage. She opened her bag, reached inside,and grabbed onto something choosing to not yet free it from its leather confines.

“So, I guess what I’m asking is...” She began pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Are ya gonna waste my time? Or are we gonna have a real honest drink?”

<><><><>

“Wait really?!”

“Really! I swear it’s true! When Louis died, none of us had the heart to tell him, so we just adopted a new cat and told Jaehyun that Louis had a rare condition that made his fur change color.”

I guess that’s why Taeyong told me not to pick the name Loius when he offered to get me a cat.

“Wait so did he ever figure it out?”

Jessi took another swig from the Jack bottle before bursting into laughter.

“That’s the thing. The first time we did it, Jaehyun was 9 years old,” She revealed.  

“The first time?” I gawked, unable to keep myself from joining in on the laughter.

“Louis number two got into a scrap with a stray dog and lost. Damn, I shouldn’t be laughing. That’s not the funny part, the funny part was that after three days after Louis went missing, Jaehyun came rushing into the kitchen shouting ‘I found Louis, his fur changed color again!’ The boy was 13!”

The two of us toppled over one another drowning in our own laughter. As the conversation went on and the liquor bottle became lighter, Jessi and I found ourselves entangled in each other on the floor. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I never thought meeting my future mother-in-law would go like this.  

“So, what happened then?” I asked, pleading for her to go on.

“We kept the cat for a week before missing cat posters starting poppin’ up all over the neighborhood. Ji-eun and I considered buying a new cat and just telling him that his fur changed again, but Sooman decided that it was time for Jaehyun to grow up. The poor boy, he was always a sensitive one, but ya could tell he was holding back in front of his father.“

“Sensitive? Jaehyun? Please, there isn’t a sensitive bone in-”  

I stopped myself, worried about what possible reaction she could have to me badmouthing her son, the man I was supposed to be “in love with,” but when I looked at her, she had on a soft smile.  

“I know that Jaehyun can be a hardass sometimes, but would you believe me if I told you he wasn’t always like this?”

Without waiting for my response, Jessi stood up from the floor, leaving the Jack bottle behind. She walked over to the nightstand and picked up a small picture frame.

“I’m sure you’re aware of this, but from the moment we signed the adoption papers, Jaehyun’s fate was sealed. He was to be the future of NCT. Although Sooman was already thirty-four at that point, I was only twenty-four years old, not much older than you. I tried to give him as much love as a mother could give, but Sooman was focused more on being his mentor than on being his father.” She explained, switching back to formal Korean  

She lifted the frame in order to get a better look at it, smiling as she did so.

“You know, sometimes Ji-eun seemed more suited for the role of successor than he was, not that it mattered. You see the Mobb world is one ruled by outdated values,” She continued, handing me the frame.  

“This was before Jisung and Chenle joined our family.”  

It was a simple family portrait, the picture itself was no bigger than a postcard. There were four people in the photo. I recognized one of the subjects to be Sooman. I only knew what he looked like because of the few pictures of him I came across within the estate. Nothing about him particularly stood out to me. He looked like a normal middle-aged Korean man. His hair wasn’t dyed an unnatural color like his son’s was, nor did he have the most handsome features.  

Also, in the picture was a younger looking Jessi and a much younger looking Jaehyun holding in his arms what I assumed to be Louis number two. I took notice of the small divots that centered his cheeks. His face was much chubbier than it was now and his body much less developed. From what I could tell he must have been around thirteen years old at the time the photo was taken. Standing next to him was a young girl much taller than he but seemed to be only a few years older.  

IU.

Despite hearing about IU from a few of the members, I hadn’t ever seen any pictures of her around the house. The only time I had ever seen her face was after it had been bloodied and beaten, the night I met Lucas.  

She was a very beautiful young girl. She wrapped one of her arms around her brother’s shoulder in a manner that seemed protective in nature. They all smiled in the picture, but her smile was the brightest.  

They looked happy.  

“Jaehyun was a sweet child, although he was quite the troublemaker. Ji-eun on the other hand was so well behaved, it was almost heartbreaking. She was well aware that her adoption was a product of Sooman’s wishes to find an heir so she did whatever she could to keep from being a bother. I wish she would have acted out just a little bit though, just so that I could have shown that my love for her wasn’t conditional.”

Jessi pressed her back against the wall and slid back down to the floor where I was sitting. We both leaned against the wall staring off into space. She continued to speak, while I continued to quietly listen.  

“Her and Jaehyun were inseparable at first. He relied on her to communicate for him since he still struggled with his speech. We hired speech therapists, language teachers, psychologists, you name it, but he still wouldn’t say a word unless he was whispering it into his Ji-eun's ear. In the end, it was her who got him to start speaking. I don’t know how she did it, but she did. After that, he slowly became more independent. Even then, they were still closer than twins. He was a bit of a crybaby if you can believe it, which obviously didn’t please my husband. He wanted nothing more than for Jaehyun to be the cold-hearted fighter that he was at that age but Jaehyun had no interest in the family business; he wanted to be an idol.”

I felt more confused than surprised. Were we really talking about the same Jaehyun? It seemed like every time Jaehyun’s childhood was brought up, young Jaehyun was described as the total antithesis to the man I knew.  

“An idol? Like a Kpop star?”  

“Yes, exactly. Jaehyun always had an interest in music. I used to catch him sneaking out at night to go busking in Hongdae. Luckily his father never found out about that.”

Jessi let out a long drawn out sigh as she stared at the Jack bottle. Although we both made a significant dent in it, neither of us were more than a tipsy at most. Probably for the best since Jeno came by to remind us that there was going to be a formal dinner to welcome the former lady of the house.  

“When Jaehyun had just turned 14, he asked Ji-eun to give him idol makeup. Sooman was furious when he walked in on them. I told him that it was harmless fun, but all he could focus on was the fact that the future of his organization was playing makeup. After that, Sooman practically threw him into the family business, forcing him on his first mission just a few weeks later.”

Jessi laughed.

“Men, right?” She joked in English, giving me a glance.  

“He thought the mission would toughen him up a bit, ya know, teach him some responsibility. The mission was different from what NCT was used to. Basically, they were trying to in smuggle guns using fishermen’s boats. Jaehyun was supposed to stand watch by the docks. Sooman gave him a tranquilizer gun and a walkie talkie, told him to stun anyone who might be poking their nose in the wrong place then to let everyone know.”

I quirked my head to the side wondering why her story sounded so familiar, like I had somehow heard it before.  

“Well, you might have guessed it, but someone did come by. Instead of doing what he was instructed, Jaehyun got scared and hid under a table. The poor boy was scared beyond belief. He didn’t want to give away his position by talking into the walkie talkie, so the guy ended up walking into the middle of everything and the whole mission blew up. A few men were killed either by the dock guards themselves or the police who came shortly after. Over twenty of our men were arrested, most of which were from Wayv.”

“Oh my god!”  

Surprised by my outburst, Jessi’s eyes shot from the liquor bottle back to mine.  

“It was Jaehyun? He’s the one who got Lucas’s dad locked up?”  

Jessi’s surprised expression melted away as she let out a dry chuckle.  

“Guess someone already told you this story. I’m surprised they didn’t tell you that little detail.”

“Lucas told me the night he...”  

I paused, not sure if I wanted to finish my sentence.

“Don’t worry, pumpkin,” She hummed reaching a hand out to cup my cheek.

“We don’t have to talk about that anymore.“

She spoke in English, but it wasn’t in her usual tone. It was somehow softer.  

I felt strangely comforted by the gesture. It had been so long since anyone spoke that softly to me. I unconsciously placed my hand over hers, not wanting her to let go.  

“My mother used to call me that,” I choked out.

My stomach clenched as her face contorted in confusion. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but the wave of emotion that washed over me was almost too much to bear. I felt relief when, instead of pulling away, Jessi brought her other hand to my face, wiping away a stream of tears I didn’t realize were staining my cheeks.  

She smiled.  

“Jeno told me about your parents. I’m sure they would be so proud of you if they were able to see the fine young woman you’ve become.”

The tears only fell faster after hearing her kind words.  

I had no idea what my parents would think if they saw me today. Would they be embarrassed that their only daughter became a burlesque dancer? Would they feel shame hearing how badly my life has gone since their deaths?

My worries were instantly vanquished as I felt strong arms pulling me into their embrace.  

“Just knowing that their little girl is alive and healthy would be enough for them,” She cooed.  

Jessi held me, allowing me to cry in her arms until the tears had run out. When she released me, I became mortified at the sight of the snot and tears that stained her dress sleeve. She merely laughed it off and changed into a dress that seemed to be an exact copy of the first. When she finished changing, she sat me down in front of her vanity and began fixing my braid which had become messy from my crying.  

“I still can’t believe that Jaehyun stepped in to save you from that customer,” Jessi laughed.

“Yeah... I can’t really believe it either,” I replied, forcing the words out with an equally forced smile.  

Jessi smiled but I could tell that she had a lot on her mind.  

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.  

I made eye contact with her reflection.  

“That obvious, huh?” She chuckled.

I looked down at my lap.  

“If I’m honest, hearing the story of how you two met gave me quite the bit of relief.”

I lifted my head back up to look at her.  

“After Ji-eun died, Jaehyun didn’t have anyone left who could fully understand him. The mistakes he made during that mission weighed heavily on him. Sooman sent the both of them to America to wait until things blew over. His father was the one to push him into a role he wasn’t ready for, but he could only blame himself for the lives that were lost due to his actions. He began to take his role as his father’s successor more seriously even changing his name from Yoon-oh to Jaehyun in an attempt to distance himself from his past self. He only allowed himself to be his honest self when he was with Ji-eun, and sometimes not even with her. When Sooman died, everyone thought he was still too young, too inexperienced, so he had to become a colder, more hardened version of himself. I remember even Ji-eun struggled to break down his walls at that point. He blamed himself for her death thinking he was the reason Lucas’s dad died and why Wayv betrayed NCT in the first place, but that wasn’t the only reason he blamed himself.”

Jessi paused the story to wrap a hair tie around my newly braided locks.  

“What do you mean?” I asked.  

“Well, a few months after Jaehyun took over his father’s role as leader, he held a ball here at the estate.”

“A ball? Like some Cinderella type shit?”

Jessi let out a snicker at my crudeness.  

“I guess you could say that. Balls are commonplace in the mob world. They’re often used as political tools. Host a ball, seal connections, earn trust. This ball was meant to keep up the appearance of a strong front. To show that even after Sooman’s death, that NCT was in good hands. That’s why, when Ji-eun said she didn’t want to attend, Jaehyun wasn’t pleased.”

“Why didn’t she want to go?”  

“Who knows? She wouldn’t say. Jaehyun practically had to force her to attend. That’s when-”  

“That’s when she was taken, right?” I chimed in.  

Jessi could only stare back at me.  

“Oh. Sorry,” I apologized, aware that my interruption was insensitive.  

“Don’t apologize. You’re right after all.”

The two of us stayed in silence for several moments. Me sitting down, her standing up. I racked my brain, desperately trying to find a way to change the subject without it sounding forced. Luckily, I didn’t have to.

“Y/N?” Jessi voiced.

“Yes?”

“Promise me that no matter what, you’ll try to be understanding of Jaehyun. I know that he can be a bonehead sometimes, but he really is a good man.”

I was caught off guard by the sudden request.  

“Hearing the story of how you two met, it made me hopeful for the future. Jaehyun isn’t one to poke his nose in other people’s business, but the mere fact that he intervened to save you from that man brings me great comfort. It’s been years since I’ve seen a glimmer of the old Jaehyun, but from what it sounds like, you’ve been able to get him to open up, even if just a bit.”

Jessi scootched out from behind me and took a seat on the vanity table.  

“He obviously wouldn’t have brought you here if he didn’t care for you. I just hope that you’re able to keep chipping away at the walls he built around himself. He could use a friend now that Ji-eun is gone.”

Jessi stared back at me.  

How was I supposed to tell her that the story of how Jaehyun was all an elaborate lie made up to keep her from know the truth? That her son wasn’t the one who had saved me but the man I needed saving from. The man who kidnapped me, beat me and was still holding me captive in order to further his own self-interest. How was I supposed to tell this woman that her son was a monster?  

That was it though. I wasn’t supposed to tell her any of that.  

My only role was to keep up this deranged façade in the hopes that it would get me out of this mess, so keep it up I would.

“I promise.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Jaehyun might have Taeyong, but I’m glad that he’ll have someone like you to keep him in check as well.”

I was ridden with guilt. Here Jessi was, comforting me and treating me like her own daughter and yet all I could do was lie to her, not only about who her son was, but about who I was as well. I could barely stand myself right now.  

“Hey, Jessi?”  

“Yes?”

“Since you brought him up, I wanted to ask. Who is Taeyong to Jaehyun?””

“Oh, you don’t know?”

I shook my head.

“Jaehyun and Taeyong have been friend since Jaehyun and Ji-eun came to live with us.”

“Really? That long?” I asked.  

“Well, Taeyong’s lived here at the estate since he was a little boy. Even longer than Jaehyun and Ji-eun. His parents were actually members of our staff.”

“Oh, so do the staff’s children often live at the estate?” I asked.

“No, never. Taeyong was a special case. His father, Jong-in, was one of Jaehyun’s guards while his mother, Jennie, was head of staff. When Taeyong was only five years old, there was an attack on the manor and his father died after taking a bullet for my husband. To repay Taeyong’s father for his sacrifice, Sooman covered all of their family's expenses and allowed them to move into the estate. Sooman always makes a point to repay his debts, but if we’re being honest, I’m pretty sure he just didn’t want to lose her as a staff member. Like Jeno, she was very good at her job.”

I nodded as she continued to talk about Taeyong. I knew that he and Jaehyun were close, but I had no idea they grew up together.  

“Besides, Ji-eun, Taeyong was Jaehyun’s closest companion although they didn’t get along at first. Taeyong was a bit rebellious growing up but he wasn’t a bad kid. He got into fights nearly every week and even got kicked out of school. We ended up having to send him to the same private school as Jaehyun. When Jaehyun started talking, he’d always try to play with Taeyong but I think Taeyong saw him as more of a nuisance than anything else. The only reason they got close was because of Ji-eun. Taeyong had such an obvious crush on her, it was adorable, really. He’d follow her around all day like a puppy dog, asking if she needed anything or if anyone was bothering her at school. Instead of asking anything for herself, she’d ask him to take care of Jaehyun when they were at school. Since Jaehyun was the sensitive type, he was often picked on by his peers. Ji-eun was in high school so she couldn’t do anything while Jaehyun was at the middle school. So, despite him being the same age as Jaehyun, Taeyong became Jaehyun’s protector. Now that Jaehyun’s become so much larger than Taeyong, it’s hard to believe that he was ever the one who needed protecting.”

Jessi stood up from the vanity to head to the nearby dresser.  

“Taeyong and Ji-eun.” Jessi hummed their names.

"I always thought they’d end up together. It’s too bad. I know I’m hard on the kid, but you really couldn’t ask for a better son-in-law.”  

Jessi picked up a pair of earrings, taking special care to put them on.  

“I hope you don’t mind me asking but what type of man was his father?”  I asked.

“To say that he was a kind man would make even the devil laugh He did have his moments though. You might have heard already but our marriage to one another wasn’t out of love, or at least not out of mutual love. I apparently caught his fancy at an event meant to celebrate my parent’s gang joining EXO. He asked them for my hand before even asking me. Despite my wishes, they agreed. I tried to get out of it, but you can probably guess how that worked out. It was hard at first, but I eventually accepted my new life. It wasn’t all bad. Sooman was a fair man who respected my boundaries and he never made me feel guilty for my inability to have children.”

“Ah.” I reacted, not knowing what to say back.

“As you’ve probably already guessed it, we didn’t adopt Jaehyun and Ji-eun simply out of the kindness of our hearts. Finding out about my condition was extremely hard for the two of us but Sooman never showed me any resentment. If anything, he was more worried about me and my feelings about it than about his lack of an heir. After we found Jaehyun and Ji-eun, we had no need for any more children, but we adopted them out of respect for their fathers.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” I asked, genuinely curious.  

You see, after the mission failed and several NCT member’s lives were lost, Sooman did everything he could to make up for his apparent negligence. While most of his reparations came in the form of financial assistance, for two of his men, repaying his debt wasn’t so easy. Both of the men had sons. Jisung’s father, Taemin, ran away from his family when he was only 12 years old and his wife died during childbirth so there was no one to take care of his son when he died. That’s why Sooman and I decided to adopt him.”

“And Chenle?”

“Chenle’s father had a similar situation. He was one of the Wayv members that ended up in jail following the mission. He was killed in the prison yard by a rival gang. Unlike Jisung, Chenle had an older sibling, but the two had never met. His father had an affair with a woman outside of his marriage and had gotten her pregnant. He rented out an apartment for them in Itaewon so he could keep their existence a secret from his main family. Sooman only found out about this when he received a call from the man’s lawyer. The lawyer gave him an unofficial version of his last will and testament which specified where to find the son and mother. It requested that the two of them be taken care of if anything were to happen to him. He also requested that Chenle be kept away from anything relating to NCT or gang activity in general.”

“Wait so Chenle’s mother is still alive?”

Jessi noticeably hesitated before going on.

“Sadly, no.” She answered.

“Oh.”

“Instead of calling, Sooman immediately went to the address listed on the document and thank god he did. Nobody answered the door when he knocked but he could clearly hear a child crying on the other side. He ended up breaking the door down to find Chenle lying beside his mother’s body.”

“Holy shit. What?” I blurted out.  

“She must have found out about her lover’s death and decided life wasn’t worth living. At first, Sooman wasn’t even planning to support the two. He thought that the will had been a scam and that the woman was trying to get a free lunch or something. Once he realized that he was responsible for not only the father’s death, but the mother’s too, he accepted Chenle as his own son. Jisung was six and Chenle was seven when we adopted them, so they were old enough to remember some details regarding their past lives but thankfully Chenle wasn’t old enough to understand what happened to his mother that day.  

“Does he ever ask about his parents?”

“A few questions here and there. He knows that they died but he doesn’t know how. We told him it was a car accident. Apparently, his father must not have visited often since he wasn’t able to recognize him from any of the photos we showed him. He doesn’t even know that his father worked with NCT and I’d like to keep it that way. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“I won’t say anything.” I promised.  

Jessi stared at me as if gauging her trust in me.

“Good, Let’s head down to the dining room. We don’t want to keep everybody waiting now, do we?”  

<><><>

Jessi and I made our way downstairs where we were greeted by a staff member who escorted us towards the dining room. When we entered, I was surprised to see that all the members were already seated and cheerfully conversing among themselves. Well, almost all of them.

Johnny was the first to notice our presence. He cleared his throat, catching the attention of those around him and thus towards us as well. The only thing keeping the room from falling silent was the sudden chorus of soft scraping sounds emitted from the men’s chairs as they all stood up to greet us.  

Jeno pulled out a chair for Jessi to sit in next to the head of the table while the staff member who escorted us did the same for me. As we sat down, so did everyone else. There was only one empty chair remaining next to where Jessi and I sat across from one another. I didn’t have to look around the room to know who the empty chair belonged to.  

I kept my head forwards unsure of what to do. Nobody was speaking and I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence.  

I quickly looked around the table. A mixture of concerned and bored faces stared back.  

Next to Jessi was a very anxious red head who greatly juxtaposed the disinterested medic sitting next to me. I turned towards him expectantly yet Winwin only continued to look forward.  

I didn’t know what I was hoping for, “Are you okay?” “How are you feeling?” or even just a simple “Hello,” would have sufficed. Anything that would let me know whether I could consider him an ally. What I was met with instead was apathetic indifference.

“If I wanted to attend a funeral setting, I would have visited my husband’s grave. Seriously, what’s with this solemn mood?” Jessi marveled, poking fun at the intensity that dominated the room’s aura.

“I’m sure they’re all just waiting for you to tell them one of your stories, mother.”

Everyone turned towards the sudden voice to see the head of the estate as he approached the table. Once again, the members of NCT stood up. Even I was about to stand up until Winwin placed a hand on my shoulder queuing that it was not my place to stand. I felt a tinge of reassurance from the unanticipated gesture though it didn’t do much to ease me otherwise.  

“You may be seated,” The man announced.  

I felt an alarming amount of anxiety from the room’s newest occupant, but that didn’t stop me from blatantly staring at him as he made his way towards the head of the table.  

His rose gold locks, which had been fading more and more with each day, had been replaced by a light shade of natural brown similar to that of a chestnut. It was styled in its usual fashion; pushed back and out of his eyes, with not a strand out of place. His attire, while not as formal as it was the night of the performance, still gave off an air of aristocratic poshness. A black button up tucked into black slacks held up by a black belt. Not exactly something the average son would wear to have dinner with his mother, though this was far from the average family get together and Jaehyun was far from the average man.  

Jaehyun smirked, aware of the eyes that were on him.  

“It’s good to see you, mother.” He asked as he bent down to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s good to see you too, especially since you’ve finally gotten rid of that ridiculous pink hair of yours.”

Jaehyun gave an honest laugh in response to his mother’s words.  

“Please excuse me for not being able to welcome you myself. I had some business I needed to attend to.”  

"Oh no, it’s fine. It gave me a chance to spend some alone time with the lovely Y/N, here.” She responded, gesturing towards me from across the table.  

Jaehyun hummed in response, having fixed his gaze onto me.  

“Am I to assume that your first meeting was a pleasant one?” He asked, flashing his charming smile.

Though his expression was what one would expect from that of a loving fiancé, I knew the true meaning of his words.  

“I’d say it was more than pleasant. Y/N is a well-rounded young lady with the kind of spark you don’t see much of nowadays. I must say I’m a little suspicious.”

“Hm? What on earth do you mean?” Jaehyun asked, keeping his cool.  

“You’re not being held hostage are you, dear?” Jessi asked as she turned towards me.

My breathing hitched and I instinctively looked up at Jaehyun who seemed just as surprised by the question as I was.

I opened my mouth to reply but Jessi beat me to the cut.

“I mean how else could you find someone to put up with your snappy temperament,” She snickered.

Several of the table’s occupants, began to laugh awkwardly, Jaehyun and I included.

“As always, mother, your humor is second to none,” Jaehyun said, leaving his mother’s side to take his place at the table.  

“And how is my little mouse?” He asked reaching a hand towards mine.  

Before I could think better of it, I quickly withdrew my hand from his.  

Big mistake.

Realizing what I had done, my eyes flickered between Jessi’s furrowed brows and Jaehyun’s menacing glare.

“Honey, not in front of everyone.” I whined, doing my best to make a cute but bashful expression.

Jaehyun’s threatening stare swiftly turned into one of bewilderment. His eyes only left mine once Jessi began to laugh whole heartedly.

“Oh, you don’t have to act shy in front of me, dear. I know how kids are when they’re engaged,” Jessi insisted.

I smiled at her and looked to Jaehyun who nodded in approval. He held his hand over the lower half of his face to hide the smirk that wouldn’t seem to leave his lips.

<><><>  

Dinner lasted around an hour. Jessi took turns asking each of the members questions and simply catching up with one another. I was happy to listen to them all talk about things not having to do with me since it meant less chances for me to mess up. The liquor that lingered in my bloodstream granted me a bit of comfort though it did little to protect me from the unease that came from Jaehyun’s constant stare.  

When dinner was finished and everyone was dismissed, I stood up only to be pulled back down by an abrupt hand. I turned towards the hand’s owner.  

Jaehyun didn’t say anything. He instead waited for everyone to leave the dining room including the staff whom he waved away.  

Once it was just the two of us, Jaehyun stood up, throwing his napkin onto his plate.  

“Training starts at 5 a.m. Get there early if you have to, just don’t be late. I don’t think you want to know what will happen if you make me wait.”

He began to walk away from the table, leaving me behind. Once he reached the door, he paused.

“You should wear something blue. The color suits you.”

I stared blankly at the now empty doorframe.  

“Something blue?” I echoed, staring down at the baby blue dress.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Won’t You Stay (Part 8)

Summary: The reader spends the night at Jensen’s place but has a moment of doubt over their new relationship. When the reader goes to her parents place for dinner that night, her siblings share some secrets they’ve been harboring but she’s not as willing to go there yet...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader

Word Count: 2,400ish

Warnings: language, depression, self-doubt, implied past domestic abuse

A/N: Please enjoy!

______

Friday Night

“Y/N,” laughed Jensen as you leaned against the window in the restaurant that night. You’d barely had time to change into something nice after work and hurried over to the restaurant, Jensen sitting at the bar with a drink. You nearly tripped in your heels when you’d gotten over there, Jensen giggling quietly to himself.

When you got to a table, you woke up some but you were already more than embarrassed. Jensen played it off thankfully and you eased into dinner, talking mostly about work and your days. When it came time for dessert though you weren’t sure if you’d make it.

“Honey, you’re exhausted. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“No. I caught up on a few things,” you said, blinking open your eyes and leaning back in your seat. “I am one hundred percent awesome and ready to go.”

“Well I’m tired and I know I didn’t get to sleep last night either,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Dinner was very good.”

“I’d love to come back,” you yawned. 

“Still doing awesome?” he laughed.

“Mostly awesome. Actually I’d kind of love to go put on pajamas and get out of this dress,” you said.

“I think I’m going to catch our waiter and ask for that dessert to go,” he said.

“Good plan,” you said, giving him a thumbs up.

“You’re extra adorable when you’re all tired,” he said, booping your nose.

“I’m always adorable,” you said, giving him a sleepy smile.

“Yes you are.”

“Mm,” you said sitting on Jensen’s couch half an hour later, taking your last bite of cake. “Yummy.”

“I’m stuffed,” he said, groaning as he stretched out. “You want the bed?”

“Hm?” you hummed as you shut your eyes.

“I don’t think either one of us could drive even if we wanted to,” he said, pulling you to your feet. “You take the bed. I’ll crash out here.”

“We can share. I won’t give you cooties,” you said, curling up into a ball.

“Maybe I want some cooties,” he teased. “Alright, come on then.”

He pulled you to your feet and guided you back to his room, grabbing a t shirt and a pair of clean boxers for you to wear.

“This okay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. You ducked in his bathroom to change, coming out to find him in pajamas and hanging up his suit. “Your clothes are very soft.”

“Well thank you. You look very, very tired, honey. Get some sleep,” he said, shutting the door. You walked over to his bed and plopped down, nearly falling asleep right there. “Under the covers, sleepyhead.”

“Mhm,” you said, out before he could lay down beside you.

“Good morning,” a quiet voice said as you started to stir. You rolled and found yourself face first with Jensen’s, a shy smile there. “Sleep good?”

“Amazing,” you said, brushing your lips over his. It was a slow and teasing kiss and he let you do all the work. You smirked as you moved back an inch, Jensen laying there with a goofy look on his face. “Morning.”

“Very good morning. Pretty good for a first kiss,” he said. He cupped your cheek and pulled you back into it, lazy and easy. His breath was warm, his lips soft, light stubble just the right kind of rough. 

Then you had to go and shrug away from him. You sat up panting, putting your back to him.

“Y/N,” he said, voice gentle and sweet, a little waiver underneath it. “Honey.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said. You curled your toes in the carpet, the bed dipping as Jensen crawled over and sat beside you. Maybe you weren’t ready for this again, to be close to someone like that. Nearly your entire relationship with Logan had been a disaster and poor Jensen didn’t deserve to deal with the never ending fallout from it. You stared at you lap but moved closer to him, Jensen wrapping his arm loosely around your waist. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t do this. Find someone better, less complicated,” you said. His arm curled around you tighter though and you stared at him, Jensen still looking all soft and smiley.

“Yeah but I found you and I like you and you like me. I want you. Whatever this is, it doesn’t scare me,” he said. You swallowed and stared at him, big green eyes looking back.

“It should,” you said.

“I’m tougher than I look,” he said with a quick smirk. “You don’t have to say anything, just know it’s safe here. I promise.”

“Sorry I shrugged you off,” you said, giving him a smile. He returned it and kissed your temple.

“It’s alright. I will let you be in charge of potential make out sessions from now, alright?” he said.

“Jensen,” you said as he went to move away. “My last boyfriend...things ended bad. Very bad. It’s not you at all. Please know that.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here but otherwise, let’s not let that douche ruin any more of our morning, hm?” he said.

“Sounds good,” you said. “We can start with getting back to fun things.”

“What kind of-“

You gave him a kiss, Jensen humming into it. He put his hands on your hips and pulled you into his lap. It was soft and slow, Jensen letting you guide him and move his hands up your back.

“You are so attractive,” you said, kissing under his jaw. He turned into it, dropping his head on your shoulder, a tiny groan leaving his lips. “And I think that’s enough for now.”

“For now,” he said, smiling when you pulled back. “Feel better now?”

“Very,” you said.

“Would you like to get lunch with me, miss director?” he teased.

“I would love to but I have to pop into work for a meeting. Tonight?” you asked.

“Didn’t you tell your parents you were going over for dinner?” he said. You pursed your lips but he smiled. “Hang out with your family and relax a little. We can get together tomorrow.”

“You sure?” you said.

“Yeah. We’ll do something fun. I got the perfect idea in mind already.”

“So,” said Ella, plopping down on the other side of your dad in the family room that evening, your mom out getting the takeout. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“I think he went out with his friends for dinner and a drink,” you said as you looked through your phone.

“You could have gone, sweetie,” said your dad. “I don’t need a babysitter. I have several of you if you look around.”

“I wanted to hang out with you guys. I really need a day off,” you said as you sent off another email.

“You working on the weekends?” he asked.

“Some,” you said.

“Why?” asked Anthony. “Aren’t you already getting paid like an assload of money?”

“Your sister is in charge of 289 people, Anthony. It’s a tad stressful,” said your dad. “But he has a point. You need to take some more time. You have two and a half months to go. It’s only been two weeks. You’ll burn out before it’s over.”

“I know. I want it to be good is all,” you said. You shut your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder, your dad humming quietly. 

“Dad. Can I uh, talk to you about something?” said Anthony. You slowly opened your eyes, Ella giving you a quick glance. There was a tone in his voice and you both nodded.

“Of course. Your sisters already seem to know what this is about,” he said. 

“Yeah. They do. So um, you know...you know Nolan?” he asked, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt.

“Your best friend since kindergarten? Yes, I know him,” said your dad, a quiet laugh escaping him. “What about him?”

“Yeah. Uh, Nolan and I are...see...Nolan’s not just my best friend,” said Anthony, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s uh, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” asked your dad. You looked back and forth between them, Anthony calmer than you were expecting. “How long have you two been dating?”

“Almost a year,” he said.

“A year, huh,” said your dad, Anthony nodding. “You guys going out someplace for your anniversary?”

“Uh, probably just get pizza or something,” said Anthony, glancing to you. 

“You guys should go out somewhere nice. I’ll pay. Only have a first anniversary once,” he said with a smile.

“Okay?” said Anthony. “I...dad, I...you understand...I’m gay, don’t you?”

“Anthony,” said your dad, getting up and plopping down in the oversized chair next to him. “Honey, I don’t care if you like boys or girls or both or whoever. It doesn’t change anything. You’re still my son and I still love you.”

“Oh. Good,” he said with a smile, your dad pulling him into a squeezing hug. “Dad.”

“I love you,” he said. “You gonna talk to me again? I am very good at talking about boys by the way.”

“Yeah, it was stupid to be afraid,” he said.

“Anthony and this goes for all three of you, I don’t give a damn how big you are, you can always come to me and mom when you’re scared. You never have to be afraid of us,” he said. “Got that?”

“Yeah. Is it cool if Nolan comes over more? I know we go to his house a lot lately,” said Anthony.

“Yes and he can sleepover as I’m sure you’re doing the horizontal tango at this point in the game,” he said. “Just be smart and safe, okay?”

“Yeah. Also, let’s not talk about sex, please,” he said. “Not with them in the room.”

“I showed you what kind of condoms to get, idiot,” you said, rolling your eyes. “He nearly shit a brick when I made him pay. Then there was the what kind of-“

“Shut up,” groaned Anthony.

“You have a good sister,” chuckled your dad. “What about Ella bella? You doing okay? You've been a bit quiet lately too.”

“I told a guy I thought I liked I wasn’t ready for sex with him and he was a dick and I’m glad I didn’t do it,” she said, giving you a smile.

“...Okay. Um, Ella. I won’t tell you how to do things but...wait a bit. Find someone you love and do it with them. Although it sounds like your sister has struck again in the advice department,” he said.

“You have hormonal teenagers, not my fault,” you laughed. He smiled and nodded, looking you up and down. “What?”

��Anything you want to share?” he asked.

“Nope,” you said. He nodded, tilting his head. “Dad.”

“Your brother and sister just did, even though that was hard for both of them I’m sure,” he said.

“Dad. Drop it,” you said.

“You don’t have to be a dick. You’re the one that told us to talk to dad,” said Ella.

“You have been like super angsty lately, Y/N,” said Anthony. “Who cares about your stupid ex-boyfriend? Your new boyfriend is awesome. Even dad likes him.”

“I do like him,” chuckled your dad but he caught you frowning. “No one, not even mom, got the picture on what happened with Logan.”

“Leave me alone,” you said as you quickly stood up. You headed down the front hall, your dad catching up quickly and spinning you around. “I thought you were going to drop-”

“Did he hurt you?” he asked. You blinked and he stared down at you. “Did he hurt you? Touch you? Force himself on you? Something is not right and I’m sorry but you’re not leaving until we know the truth once and for all.”

“He broke my heart. That’s all there is to it,” you said.

“No, it’s not.”

“Why do you even care?” you said with a shrug. “Go off to your real kids, not the accident.”

“Y/N,” he said, opening his mouth and shaking his head. “Sweetie, you’re not-”

“If she hadn’t died, you wouldn’t know I existed. You know why I got so into writing books when I was a teenager, dad? You were playing house with your real kids with the wife you actually loved. There was no burden, there was no trying to hide from your five your old how much better life would be without her in it. Writing let me pretend, run away. Stay out of my business. I’ve been staying out of yours for years,” you said.

He stared at you as you went to the door and pulled on your shoes, Anthony already grabbing your arm.

“What is wrong with you? Seriously? Dad just had a bad night and-“

“Let go,” you said but he tightened his grip. “Anthony. Stop. You’re hurting me.”

“Anthony, let go of your sister,” said your dad quietly.

“Not until she explains what the fuck is going on,” he said, his hand becoming painful.

“Let go!” you said, kneeing him in the groin and shoving him away. You grabbed your arm and rubbed it, all three of them staring at you.

“Come here,” said your dad. You shook your head and he held out his arms. “What’s daddy’s most important job? You used to ask me all the time, kiddo.”

“Being daddy,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. He walked over and wrapped his arms around you, shushing you. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Me too,” he said.

“Guys, eat dinner when it gets here with mom, alright? I’m going out with your sister for a while,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

______

A/N: Read Part 9 here!

[kuryoomi]

scars to your beautiful (kageyama x reader)

➸  genre: angst and fluff.

➸  pairing: kageyama tobio x reader.

➸  word count: 1.5k

a/n: wHEW. i wanted to write something meanigful, but idk how it turned out !! honestly idek if this is either angst or not lowkey,,, heart fingers.

synopsis: kageyama helps (y/n) love and embrace the scars from her past.

WARNING! mentions of relationship abuse.

ouch.

warm, red blood oozed out of the exposed wound, the sharp pain visible on your face. from your left side, a little boy was apologizing to you several times with tears in his eyes. and from your right, kageyama extended an arm to lend you a hand.

"thank you." you took his hand and pulled your body up from the ground, blood still gushing out from your scraped knee.

"i'm s-so s-sorry!" the little boy sobbed in between his words.

smiling at him, you shook your head before patting his head, "i'm fine! still moving, you see?" you shook your leg to prove yourself to the little boy.

"still, be careful. you might seriously injure yourself if you don't!" teasingly, you scolded the little boy, causing him to nod his head ferociously.

"i'll b-be careful next t-time!" swallowing his tears, the little boy picked up his skateboard before running off.

seeing as the boy disappeared from their sight, you let out a breath before stumbling to keep your balance.

"oi! don't fall!" kageyama pulled you back up, "c'mon, i'll help you get seated."

he helped (carried) your body while searching for an empty bench in the park. spotting one in the distance, he continued supporting you before setting you down on the empty, wooden bench.

adjusting your position to your comfort, a sigh left your lips.

"of course this had to happen." you thought to yourself, "i knew this day was going too smoothly for my own liking! ugh, why can't my first date with tobio be a success?? curse you, bad luck!!"

"(y/n)." kageyama interrupted your thoughts, "can you roll up your jeans for me?" he was knelt in front of you, one knee up and the other knee down.

"huh?!" you snapped out of your internal conflict, "why?"

oh no.

"so that i can see your injury." he pointed directly at your knee, "the blood is seeping through your jeans."

oh no. anything but that.

"pfft, i'm sure it's fine! no big deal." you swung your legs back and forth, "you see?" unknowingly, your face gave away your pain.

he took one look at your before shaking his head, "(y/n), don't be ridiculous."

you hung your head, avoiding his eyes, before beginning to slowly roll up your jeans. as more skin got exposed, your fingers hesitated.

kageyama noticed your hesitation and helped you roll your jeans up, thinking that the pain prevented you from continuing,

"no— wait!"

a long jagged scar snaked down the side of your leg, close to your knee. the skin around the mark was slightly discolored, suggesting that it did not heal properly. this was something you did not want kageyama to see, at all. but what could you do? lady luck was not on your side today. you grimaced, too afraid to see the male's reaction.

without any comments, kageyama stood up from the ground and turned his back towards the female.

"i'll be right back." he spoke before jogging away from the bench.

oh no.

he thinks they're ugly.

oh nonono.

what if he decides that i'm worthless—

haha, no way.

as if.

tobio isn't that kind of person...

is he?

amidst your worries and doubts, you noticed kageyama return from somewhere with a plastic bag hanging from his grasp. you jumped up from the wooden park bench, ready to explain yourself.

"t-tobio! you're back!" you shuffled your feet nervously as he stopped in front of you with his eyes on yours, "don't worry! i can explain my— my um. my scars! haha see, i was in this crazy relationship a few years back and my boyfriend wasn't exactly the best person alive. b-but it's all good now! he received his punishment and i'm—"

partially listening to your rambles, kageyama silently sat you back down on the bench. without a single word, he retrieved the item he bought from the convenience store (a first-aid kit) and opened it up before quickly soaking a piece of cotton with bottled water.

"we have to clean up your wound, first." he spoke calmly as his hands dabbed the piece of cotton on your knee.

unable to process his actions, you watched as he peeled off a bandaid before sticking it onto your wound. he pressed his fingers against it lightly, the bandaid sticking well to your skin. he was gentle, almost as if he were working with fragile glass, yet firm at the same time.

"and now we're finished." he smiled softly and awkwardly made jazz hands, signaling his finished work. still struck by silence, your eyes were glued on him as you watched kageyama throw away everything except the first-aid kit, "tobio.."

he returned back to the bench and sat down, his hand reaching out to give you whatever was left inside the first-aid kit.

"here. don't want you being unprepared again." with a kind smile on his lips, kageyama leaned back against the bench and stretched him arms out, "now you can continue your story, if you want. i'm here to listen."

oh.

initially, you weren't sure how to feel when he offered his ears to you. strange, right? just moments ago, you were desperately trying to explain yourself, your scars, to him. but now that he was actually listening, it was odd.

as shocking as it may seem, you weren't used to someone offering to listen to your voice, your past, your story. maybe it was because of this reason that you actually felt nervous to say anything.

but you were compelled to tell him. this guy, who had only known you for a couple of weeks, had knocked down any barrier you had built from a previous relationship, in a matter of minutes.

was it the way he looked? at you? or was it because of his caring gestures— you had no idea. whatever it was, it worked to his favor. you instantly desired to spill everything out to him. after all, you just couldn't hide it in any longer.

"my- uh. my ex-boyfriend was abusive, both physically and mentally. he would verbally tear me down with harsh words before resolving our fight with his fists. honestly speaking, it wasn't even a fight. whenever he spat out insults to me, it was all one-sided."

you paused, contemplating on whether or not to continue. spilling details about your painful past was overwhelming, to say the least. you swung your legs back and forth, allowing your silence calm you down. luckily, kageyama was patient.

"he told me that i was ugly with all these scars—said that i should be grateful he was at least willing to be with me, even though he was the one who gave me these."

another pause, with kageyama's eyes widened the slightest bit out of anger.

"my parents eventually found out, even though i didn't want to trouble them with anything, and they reported him. he received his punishment, and i got a restraining order! happy ending to a not-so happy story." immediately, you faked a laugh and encouraged a smile on your face, as if to show kageyama that everything was alright now.

but kageyama saw through it. vividly. even if both the corners of your lips curled upwards, your eyes betrayed you. no matter how convincing your smile looked, if the eyes weren't sincere then nothing was.

you gulped softly, expecting the silence from him. you figured he was processing the information you had given himㅡ it was a lot to take in, after all.

"your ex-boyfriend seemed like an ass." he stated bluntly after a painful silence as his body turned towards to face you.

"yeah, he was. i honestly don't know why i stayed with him." another laugh escaped your lips, nervously this time, "maybe i depended on him too much. pathetic, right?" you glanced down before lifting your wounded knee upwards, "now, i got all these ugly scars marking me for the rest of my life."

"they're not ugly."

you turned your head to the side, "excuse me?"

he shrugged, "your scars. they're not ugly." kageyama said once more, "nothing on your body should be considered as ugly. why would they be?"

"because they make my body seemㅡ destroyed."

he shook his head, "no. your scars show everyone how brave you are. how you survived through the worst of times to make it to the present."

kageyama crossed his arms before continuing, "the scars on your body from your past make up your own constellations. if anything, you should be proud and embrace them."

you bit your lip. since your previous breakup, the concept of loving your body seemed impossible. of course, you'd been trying for years now, but failed every single time. heck, was it even possible? you wanted verbal assurance.

"doㅡ do you think i'm capable of embracing them?" you asked, your voice laced with hope.

kageyama stared at the female, a brief moment of silence between the two of you. he was positive that you were more than able to embrace your scars. you were strong in his eyes. of course, he was willing to help you in any way, shape, or form.

with a hand on top of your head, he gave you a small smile before nodding his head, "absolutely."

[alastanor]

To start, I would like to thank @cis-het-angel-kinnie for bringing this video to my attention, even if it was to praise the video rather than to point out it's flawed arguments against Charlie for main character.

If you have not seen the video yet, I recommend giving it a watch prior to reading this or you may be confused.

Click to read more...

What Is A Protagonist?

I am not bringing up this question because I think the source used was incorrect. However, the statement that "protagonists ask questions and antagonists make arguments" is an oversimplification of both roles. And I am going to explain why.

The trope of protagonist vs antagonist is an age old theme which has been used countless times throughout storytelling's history in books, plays, films, and story-driven video games. As such, the definition of both roles has continued to flourish and evolve over time. It is no longer good vs evil.

While @diregentleman used books written by, I assume, published writers for his argument, I am going to use Creative Writing and Literary Experts from a Masterclass article.

In the article, a protagonist is described as this:

"In storytelling, a protagonist is the main character or principal character or group of characters in a story."

More than one character is capable of being an antagonist in this story. Given that demons are meant to be redeemed, fitting the theme of the story, it is fair to surmise that all (or the majority of) the demons surrounding Charlie are protagonists in some form.

The article goes on to state that the protagonist's goals reflect the overall story goals and the plot moves forward based on their decisions.

This being said, Charlie's overall goal reflects the premise of the story, that being that Hazbin Hotel is a story about redemption. This is a goal that Angel Dust does not have.

In DireGentleman's video, he claims Angel Dust joined the Happy Hotel with the intention of being redeemed, albeit skeptical whether it could actually be done. This is actually inaccurate, and we see this in both the pilot and the comic.

Angel does display skepticism straight from the gate, but when they explain their reason for approaching him (that no one else has agreed), he makes this face:

Does that really look like someone who believes redemption may be possible? But for further establishment of just how little Angel believes redemption is possible, Angel also laughs them off and calls their goal "lame."

The only reason Angel agrees to Charlie and Vaggie's proposition is because it is a rent free place to stay. He admits as much just a bit further into the comic. By the end, Angel says "Redemption, it's silly. Huh, Nuggs."

The tone we are led to believe he uses is one of contemplation and relief. Relief due likely to the fact that there is some light at the end of the tunnel to the shit situation he was in.

This is just comic evidence, of course. If we go to the pilot, when Angel is engaging in the turf war with Cherri Bomb, he explains that he is using Charlie and Vaggie for free rent. Further exemplified when he later asks if participating in the turf war meant he didn't have a free room anymore. But also in his conversation with Cherri, he also admits that he is still taking some drugs behind Charlie and Vaggie's back. Something that we see immediately toward the opening of the pilot when Angel buys a bag of Angel Dust.

Character Dynamic

I cannot emphasize this enough, the Hunicast is NOT a good exemplifier for character dynamics. Every single "character interaction" is based on fanon, not canon, and they are prompted by the fans themselves. Only Viv really knows exactly how Angel and Alastor would canonically interact. It is no better a source for character dynamic than the wiki is for accurate information. IE, some things may hold true, but the majority of it is not and it is better just to wait until it is confirmed canon.

Moving on...

There is a lot of focus on Valentino as a main antagonist, based entirely too much on the hope that Angel will be the main protagonist. And this is really just disingenuous when you consider there are two other implied Overlords, as well as several other sources of strife within the world of Hazbin Hotel.

An Antagonist is someone working against the protagonist to prevent them from achieving their goal. Alastor would not meet this criteria, as he is a self-professed observer and conflict creator. But he is not a main antagonist. Someone working against the goal of redemption could be anyone from the Overlords (which, far as we know, would include Valentino), Lucifer, or even Heaven itself.

Where antagonists come into play, quoting Masterlist once again, I think these two types of antagonists were overlooked:

A conflict-creator. An antagonist doesn’t have to be a “bad guy.” Sometimes, they’re just a character whose goals are in direct conflict with the protagonist’s, like Mr. Darcy in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice or Javert working to arrest Valjean in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.

The protagonist themselves. The main source of conflict in a story can be from within the protagonist themselves—their shortcomings or insecurities are keeping them from reaching their goal. A prime example of this is Holden Caulfield in J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye. While Holden comes into conflict with many characters in the novel, the ever-present antagonizing conflict comes from his own obsessions and insecurities.

Now, why did I bring up these two types? Well! I'm glad you asked! You see, where conflict-creator comes into play would line up more with Alastor. He isn't really the bad guy, but he does create some friction where his goals meet with Charlie's. He is a professed observer, but it is strongly believed that there is something else, another goal, that he has omitted.

As for the Protagonist themselves, this lines up pretty strongly where Charlie is concerned. You could argue that it does for Angel too, but Angel's goal, as mentioned before, is not Redemption. That goal is Charlie's, and hers alone. Yet it is her naivety, inexperience, and insecurities surrounding her failures as a princess that are holding her back from achieving her goal. Going by this, not only do we have multiple protagonists, but we also have multiple antagonists.

"So far, no one else's past is wrought with tension like Angel Dust's."

Even if this wasn't a sweeping, dismissive statement made with limited information, it would still be incorrect. Why? Because each and every character in Hazbin Hotel is going to have their own story to tell. Stories that will each be as relatable and wrought with tension, the only reason we know Angel so extensively is because Viv put the most work into him. She has admitted that Alastor and Angel were characters she wrote based on past dealings and experiences she had. Let those implications sink in a bit.

Now, to further this, people don't need to empathize with a character to like them. They can sympathize as well, even if they personally cannot relate to the emotions the character is feeling.

And where Angel is concerned, he is not addicted to drugs. Angel has used drugs to escape the pain of his trauma. His response in the pilot to having his drugs stolen from him is not one of a typical addict. Which leads us to believe the drugs are simply a coping mechanism more than they are an addiction.

Real Audience for Hazbin is 12 to 16

I would really fucking hope you are joking. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that this was said by someone who isn't a parent. While yes, kids will be sneaky and watch or play things they're not supposed to, a show with drug use/abuse, rape, sex, physical/mental/emotional abuse, and suicide is as much for them as Rick and Morty.

Further, it is not just these themes that make the show for adults. It is the format of the storytelling. Yes, you can complain about what you consider issues with the pilot. But at the end of the day, it did it's job. It established the story premise, introduced important characters (Fat Nuggets does not fall in that category, calm down), gave a basic understanding of their relationships to each other, and get the audience interested in continuing the series. Considering the views for the pilot and the resulting disproportionate growth of the fandom, I would say it did that in spades.

Hazbin Hotel is not Steven Universe. I cannot say this enough times, and the reason I cannot is because I cannot tell you how many times I have come into contact with the underage side of the fandom griping about lack of lore, griping about lack of production information, and overall being exceedingly impatient. At the risk of sounding like an old miser, the underage side of the fandom has never had to wait for additions to a series. Like waiting for Homestuck updates, or the new release of a Harry Potter novel. They have had a steady schedule of content, along with shows that give exposition dumps "in the first 3 minutes."

So don't look at Hazbin Hotel through the lens of kids' show fandoms. It has so much more to offer than that.

Alastor vs Valentino

No, this is not about whether Alastor could beat up Valentino. In the video, DireGentleman pulled a huge pet peeve of mine and lumped Valentino and Alastor together, labeling them both "monsters." Which is opening a huge can of worms for me. So, I will give a brief summary of why that is wrong, and provide a link to one of my other posts for deeper diving.

So, there is a reason why Valentino is more hated than Alastor is. Lumping them together is a mistake.

Valentino is a pimp that abuses and manipulates his victims through intimidation and (implied through) some kind of addiction to the red smoke (whether that is real or symbolism is yet unknown). He takes who and what he wants, be damned the consequences or who gets hurt. He is incredibly self-serving, with no consideration for anyone else. He uses people like pawns, and when those pawns refuse to do what he wants, what does he do? He forces them to do it anyway.

By comparison, while Alastor may use his people like pawns, he also has more consideration for them and doesn't abuse them (far as we can tell). The evidence to support this is the attitude of those serving under Valentino vs those under Alastor. Niffty and Husk both seem to not have a problem with Alastor, and where Husk is concerned it seems that his attitude toward Alastor is their typical banter. But definitely nothing that displays abuse. In fact, when Husker is hesitant or even refusing to do as Alastor asks, Alastor doesn't force Husker. He offers payment in the form of something Husker genuinely likes.

Now, while some might argue this is also manipulating through addiction, one could look at it this way. However, Alastor didn't make Husker an alcoholic. That was Husker's vice to begin with, Alastor simply has no intention of fixing it. After all, Alastor has said he doesn't think anything can change a sinner.

For further explanation and delving into Alastor, click here.

Parents don't 'get' Charlie = Disney Princess

Once again, we fall upon the slippery slope of disinformed statements. While the joke was made that the princess of hell expresses herself best through song, parent issues do not equate to being something that is relatable primarily or only to kids and teens. It's kind of offensive that there is a sort or implication in this statement that adults don't have issues like insecurities surrounding their own failures, or parent issues like what Charlie has or worse. And once again, we fall into the empathize vs sympathize realm and I once again will say that the audience does not need to empathize with the protagonist to make them a good protagonist.

Charlie is a failed princess, her people don't respect her and didn't even prior to her hotel announcement. Yes, she is sheltered and naive. Likely due to how little she was able or allowed to interact with sinners. After all, her ex-boyfriend was from another hellborn family. One that, from what we can surmise, interacts rather frequently with the Magne family.

And it is because of this naivety and inexperience that her method to redeem sinners will not work.

In the video, DireGentleman states that we can pretty much assume that Charlie's redemption methods will work. But her methods, as we see in her song, is to inject demons with meds and take away/burn their vices. She is seeking immediate resolutions to problems that require therapy and a long process that should be making sinners want to change. All Charlie is currently accomplishing is earning the ire and scrutiny of her people. This is why I previously mentioned that Charlie is both protagonist and antagonist, as she is getting in her own way to accomplishing the goal of redemption. And this is where we find that Charlie meets the "starts out being wrong" requirement mentioned in the video as well as "admiring a character for trying."

Charlie is also in a perfect position to be the tour guide for us, the audience, as we observe the metamorphosis of every demon who needs to be redeemed. She is, once again, surrounded by those who need to be redeemed which means we will witness every character arc. This includes Angel, who does not need to be the central focus for us to witness his story.

Finally...

It was stated, or at least implied, that Hazbin Hotel's pilot is no longer relevant. This is a statement that pretty much leaves me puzzled. The only way it would be irrelevant is if Hazbin went in a completely different direction, and we have no reason to believe it will. Vivziepop is still creative director for Hazbin Hotel, and A24 is notorious for giving creators their creative freedom. What A24 is doing is animating, making VA regulations, and ensuring there is an air tight lid kept on the project. Especially given it's popularity in such a short amount of time.

Contrary to what DireGentleman said, Hazbin Hotel will definitely live up to it's hype. Being picked up by A24 will not compromise the show simply because it's not in the same realm of indie production that Helluva Boss is. And it's a bit unfair to Vivziepop to imply as much.

In Conclusion...

Please do a bit more digging in regards to not only the show, but everything surrounding it. Don't lump fanon and canon together and expect them to be equal sources, and please do not claim an obviously adult-audience show is more fit for children and teens.

And lastly, please do more digging to better understand media and storytelling. Reading books is great, but what you were using as the foundation for your arguments were far too simplified and vague,, given the complexity of the protagonist and antagonist roles. Overall, the video just came across as one huge helping of Angel Dust bias with a side of strong dislike for Charlie.

[ochard-fics]

Bad Ideas - A Spider-man Story

Chapter Index: 1, 2, 3

Pronouns used: they/them

Genre: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, young love

Warnings: Mild parental abuse

Word count: 10.4k+

Summary: Though you moved across the country about half a year ago, you are still trying to find your footing in the strange streets of New York. On top of that, you are desperately trying to balance your demanding school life at Midtown School of Science and Technology, where you like everyone but you was much more talented and smarter than you could ever imagine to be. Among those students is the one whom you loathe the most: Peter Benjamin Parker, the boy who’s success both in school and in Stark Industries is constantly shoved in your face. The only person who helps you escape those troubles is Spider-man, the hero of Queens and your crush.

A/N: Hello friends! First I would like to apologize for the delay of the third chapter. Several personal issues kept pilling on during these past few weeks which made it difficult for me to get the motivation to write. Hopefully this won’t happen again, as I was planning on getting a chapter out every 2-3 weeks. With that all said, please enjoy this latest installment! Likes, reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated!

Chapter 3: Pride, Prejudice, and Boba

When MJ and Ned arrived at school the following day, they were completely unprepared for the pettiness their two best friends were about to display towards the other. Both you and Peter refused to acknowledge the other’s existence, and when there were moments in the day that your eyes met they only showed daggers. The tension was suffocating for MJ and Ned, who were trying their hardest to advert their friend’s anger but it was to no avail. The both of you were sure that they didn’t do anything wrong, and that the other is the one to blame for their childish attitude. At one point MJ and Ned just had to give up, and they just had to sit back and watch as you and Peter seethed at each other throughout the day.

On Friday you awoke, groggy and disgruntled. The alarm had interrupted your much needed rest as you were working until 12 a.m. Additionally, you received an email from Ms. Lee, asking that you meet up with Peter again for your tutoring session. The e-mail left a sour taste in your mouth, which you could still feel as you recalled the message whilst getting dressed. Hopefully, the taste could go away with a nice breakfast.

As you headed downstairs, you noticed that your dad was at the dining table by the window, drinking his black cup of coffee while typing away on his laptop. You don’t say anything as you make your way to the fridge, grabbing the tub of cream cheese then snatching a bagel from the bread box on the counter beside it. You began to fix yourself a cream cheese bagel sandwich when your dad spoke up,

“What did you get on your chemistry quiz?” The butter knife you were using to cut the bagel froze in your hand, and you felt the sense of dread weigh over your shoulders again.

“I don’t know,” you lie, resuming your bagel cutting. There is silence, though you could feel his gaze on you, hoping to catch you off guard. In the past, whenever you failed an exam, you would’ve done everything to avoid telling your parents your true grade. It wasn’t an honest tactic, but you feared the wrath of your father if he were to know about your grades. And when he did find out, you had to hide in your room while he yelled insults behind the door. Thankfully, because of your fight regarding your wish to be less dependent on him, it’s been easier to evade his interrogation. Well, almost. You heard him let out a low grumble.

“I was told by your mom that Peter Parker is going to tutor you,” he speaks, “Your councilor called her to let her know.” You continued with your silence and focused on spreading the cream cheese on the bagel in a haste. You knew where he was going with this, and you wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible. 

“It’s tragic that he has to be the one tutoring you,” he says with a sarcastic sigh, “If only you weren’t such a lazy brat it could’ve been the other way around. Yet you chose to waste your time fooling around when you should be studying to get to the top. I raised you better than that.” A lump formed in your throat and you tried to swallow it, despite the pain it caused. Instead of saying goodbye to him you instead grabbed the bagel and headed towards the front door, avoiding eye contact with him. When you grabbed your bag and headed out the door, you made sure to shut it with a slam.

 The school day came and went with nothing interesting happening, though you and Peter were still giving each other the cold shoulder treatment. The e-mail Ms. Lee sent was still on your mind, though you were hoping that Peter wouldn’t fall through with her demands. This was not the case, though. As you were grabbing your sketchbook from your locker after your last period of the day, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket and take it out only to find a text message from Peter. 

Meet me at the library. It read. This made you let out an obnoxiously haughty scoff. There was absolutely no way in hell that you were going to see that stupid boy’s face. You knew if you had to see him again the first thing you’d do was swing a fist as his dumb rectangular face. Then, an idea lit up in your mind, making you smirk mischievously. Why should you have to listen to him? All he did was cause you trouble, and you didn’t need any more of that today. So instead of heading towards the locker, you turn your heals towards the entrance of the school. Making sure to look around for any sign of Peter or Ms. Lee, you blended into the crowd of students pouring out of the school, and made your way towards the nearest subway station.

-

You trudged your way up the exit of the musty-smelling subway station, where you found yourself stepping into NYC’s colorful Chinatown district. This was one of your favorite places to go in Manhattan. Every time you come here (which was very often), you get mesmerized by the aroma from the restaurants, large, bright signs written in Cantonese or Mandarin, and the soundtrack of shop owners offering their wares to anyone passing by them. Despite your parents wanting to actively avoid the area, you absolutely loved it. Plus, it was the home of the best boba tea in NYC.

Weaving through the bustling market area, where sellers were shouting deals in their native tongues as well as English, you made your way to your favorite boba tea joint in the district. It was tucked into a small, secretive courtyard away from the craziness of the main street, where it was inhabited by humble mom-and-pop shops that were nestled under apartment buildings. Just as you entered the alleyway, your phone vibrated. Pulling it out of your green sweatshirt pocket, you saw another test message from Parker, though this one was much more passive-aggressive than the one he had sent you before. You rolled your eyes and angrily shoved your cracked phone back in the pocket, adamant about ignoring your responsibilities today. 

You finally made it to Hi-Tea, the boba shop that you have been frequenting ever since you moved to New York. It was a small hole-in-the-wall establishment that you had found on a whim while you and your mom were exploring Chinatown upon your first week arriving in the state. Your mom found the place tacky, but you thought that it’s pastel color palette was quite charming. The glass doors leading you into the shop would always be painted every week to promote the flavor of the week, which you thought was really smart on their end. You practically came here once a week, sometimes twice if you were having an especially bad day. So, because of your frequent visits, you became friendly towards the staff that worked there, in particular Grace and Frankie. 

Both of them were in college, though Grace was older than Frankie by a year. Grace was much more outgoing and bubbly than Frankie, who was more reserved and soft spoken. Though you were also pretty shy around strangers, especially college kids, your recurring presence and Grace’s naturally charming personality allowed you to warm up to the two young adults. To your pleasure, you saw from the store’s front window that both of them were occupying the shop today. You excitingly scamper to the door, where upon opening it, the petite golden bells tied to the top alerting the two employees of your presence. They turn to look up and when they both spot you, Grace breaks out into a smile.

“Hey there (Y/N)!” Grace cheerfully greets you as she’s adjusting her cat themed enamel pins on her pastel green apron, “It’s so good to see you! Are you here for your usual? Brown sugar bubble tea with oat milk?” Yeah, you knew that boba was called bubble tea here on the East coast, but because you were an arrogant Angeleno you still referred to the tasty tapioca balls as boba, much to the annoyance of your fellow MSST classmates. You scrunch up your face in thought comically and stroked your chin, earning a giggle from Grace. Upon briefly scanning the menu that was placed on the counter with your eyes, you say “Could I have a jasmine milk tea today?” 

“Of course!” she cheerfully exclaims. As she gets to placing your order, her expression changes as if something occurred to her. She looks up at you and asks,

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work today?” 

“I can’t work on Fridays anymore,” you reply in a huff.

“Huh? Why not?” she asks, a curious expression upon her face. You began to tell her all that had happened the past few days; meeting with your counselor, her forcing you to be tutored by the one person you despise, and you getting into a very heated verbal fight with said person. Then you told her that because of the circumstances revolving around the tutoring, you were forced to cut your Friday work hours to accommodate to your councilors demands, much to your chagrin. Frankie, who was listening in on the conversation as he was cleaning up the drink assembly station, looks to you and asks,

 “Wait, then aren’t you supposed to be at school right now?” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but I decided, fuck it!” you cried and shrugged with raised arms, “I had a shitty past two days! I should treat myself!” Grace and Frankie look over at each other, exchanging expressions of concern and disapproval. 

“So,” Grace looks back at you, raising a brow, “you ditched your tutor?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t give a shit,” you reply, waving your hand dismissively, “It’s what he gets for being a prick.” 

“Still, don’t you think that’s kind of rude?” Frankie questions as he walks to the counter to join in on the conversation, “I mean, I know you guys fought, but can’t you come to some sort of truce?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Frankie’s absurd suggestion.

“Please, I’d rather jump off the Empire State than apologize to that shitbag,” you brashly say, rummaging through your backpack as you looked for your wallet, “No way would I say sorry to someone who constantly makes my life a living hell.” Grace and Frankie looked at each other, unsure of what to say. 

“But...what if he catches you ditching?” Grace asks as she looks back at you, dismayed. 

“There’s no way he can catch me,” you reply with a cheeky smirk, handing over the due amount for the boba to Winnie, “And even if he did, what’s he going to do? Drag me back to school?” To this you let out a short laugh, though Frankie and Grace didn’t seem to find this amusing. Frankie gives you one last judgemental look but says nothing, then goes to work on your order. Winnie opened her mouth to say something but then closed it, deciding it was pointless to get you to see the wrong in your doing. She takes the amount and gives you back the change, though you drop it in the tip jar for them. You moved to wait patiently by the pick-up section of the store, and in just about two minutes Frankie presented you with your drink. You took it excitingly and bid goodbye to the two young adults before heading back outside into the courtyard. A vibration from your phone rumbled in your jacket pocket, so you took it out again to see yet another text from penis Parker.

    Where are you? It read, You need to get here now or else. You narrowed your eyes at the text as you read it again, then let out a pretentious scoff. What the hell, was he trying to threaten you now? Little shit was getting a bit too confident! You shoved your phone back into your pocket and focused back on your chilled treat. Just as you were about to stab the plastic cover with the straw, something from above grabbed at the drink and yanked it right out of your hand. Bewildered, you looked at your hand then around your surroundings. 

“Shouldn’t you be at school right now?” a voice called out to you. You looked around until your eyes wandered up then widened. Spider-man was casually sitting on the edge of a fire escape, looking down at you with your boba tea in his hand

“You can’t drink that without the straw, you know,” you say loudly, holding up the straw. Suddenly, a web sling shoots at your hand and recoils back to its sender, who thanks you with a nod.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, stabbing the top of your drink with the straw, “You’re supposed to be at school right now, right?” 

“N-no,” you said, looking away from him.

“Really?” he holds up your beverage and looks at it, “Because Delmar told me you moved your Friday shifts to Thursday since you had a study date with Peter Parker today.” Gosh damn Delmar and his blabbermouth, now you were caught in the act! You shoved your hands in your jacket pocket and continued to look at everything around you but him.

“Care to tell me why you’re near the Lower East Side instead?” he asks, looking down at you. His tone sounded much less playful than usual, making you feel uneasy.

“I-,” you were flustered, unsure of what excuse to come up with on the spot. Then, you looked up at him, brows furrowed and ask,

“W-why are you so concerned?”

“I’m concerned because you ditched someone, which, by the way, is a pretty shit thing to do.” he replies cooly. You then watch as he lifts his mask up to his nose and takes a sip of your drink. At this moment you realized that this was the first time you had ever seen any part of Spider-man unveiled. Though you wished that he wasn’t high up, as the angle made it a bit hard for you to see much of his features. “Mmm, is this jasmine tea? I like the aftertaste. Very floral.”

“Did you steal my boba so you could lecture me?” You loudly ask him and you put your hands on your hips. 

“Not necessarily,” he says with a shrug, taking another sip of your drink, “Though the bubble tea is a nice bonus treat.”

 “Why does my personal life concern you?” you said, crossing your arms, “This is between me and that dumbfuck. And that dumbfuck deserves to get his ass ditched.” 

“That ‘dumbfuck’ is willing to help you out,” he simply says, then takes another sip, “By the way, I think you’re being a little harsh with those insults of yours.”

“Not my fault I tell it like it is,” you snap back, “He’s just wasting my time and his! I don’t need his help, or anyone’s! Plus, he has no idea how to tutor anyone! You should’ve seen how irritable he was!”

“Well, it’s his first time tutoring, right?” he asks you, “Maybe you need to cut him some slack. He means well.” To this you let out a short, cynical laugh.

“So what? He’s supposed to be the smartest kid in our grade!” you cry “It isn’t rocket science; it should be easy for him! Just like everything else is!”

“Have you ever tutored someone before?” he inquires, looking down at you. You didn’t respond. Instead, you ask him,

“What’s your deal with defending him, anyway?” 

“Because you’re being unfair to someone who’s trying to help you,” he replies, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous claim.

“Help me?!” you shout out passively, “He does nothing but make my life miserable! I don’t want his help!”

“You need it whether you like it or not,” he says sternly, which you found was very out of character for him, “Just like that time I saved you from getting hit by that taxi.” The anger that was boiling inside of you was reaching its peak. All rational thoughts were replaced with the need to defend your ego. And when your ego got involved, it brought out the worst in you

“I didn’t ask for your help!” you spat back out of anger. 

“So what should I have done?!” he angrily shouts back, “Let you get killed?!”

“Maybe!” you roar back, your voice echoing within the courtyard. A heavy silence hung in the air, as the two of you glared at each other, a familiar setting to Wednesday. Your fists were clenched so tightly you could feel your shoulders strain. Finally, the masked hero lets out an irritated scoff.

“Fine, if you don’t like my help,” he stands up from the railing of the balcony, “Don’t ever expect it again.” You felt your heart drop into your stomach, regret immediately sweeping into your senses. You just fucked up big time. You wanted to shout back an apology, but before you could he shoots a web sling at a nearby building and begins to swing. You ran after him, calling out to him in anguish, but he was much too fast. Soon you found yourself back in the middle of Chinatown, desperately looking around for Spider-man as he disappeared into the city, leaving you guilt-ridden and ashamed.

    -

Misery plagued your emotions for the rest of your Friday through Sunday. All you could do was wallow in your sorrow over pissing off your crush. You couldn’t feel more humiliated!

You wondered, though if you were being as unreasonable as Spider-man claimed. Of course not! you think countering yourself. That little twerp always acts like he’s the best at everything and constantly rubs it in your face! Well, not literally, but it happens when he gets the highest exam scores, when he wins first prize at the school’s annual science fair, and when he boasts about how he’s working for Stark! Ugh, he just pisses you off!

It annoyed you how enamored your parents were by his success. Why couldn’t they set the bar lower, like comparing you to Flash! You’d at least beat him! But no, it’s always Peter. “If you studied harder, you’d be at the same level as Peter!”, “I bet Peter gets straight A’s in all of his classes!”, “You should pick a more practical major, like Peter!”. The constant praise they give him in contrast to the scolding you received only fueled your hatred for him. And Spider-man knew this! You had expressed your dismay with your classmate several times since you met him so it only made you more upset that he decided to defend Peter!

Yet you still felt guilty about snapping at him so harshly. Not only did you ruin your friendship with him, but all chance of finding out who his true identity was! Now you were never going to see him again! It took all the willpower you had in you to resist slamming your head against a wall. This regret was consuming you alive, so in order to relieve yourself of it, you turned to MJ for advice.

On Sunday you related to her the past two days as well as your emotional roller coaster while watching Pride and Prejudice through facetime together (the 2005 version, though MJ was very vocal about the historical inaccuracies of the costumes, but you didn’t care because Kiera Knightly was so damn good looking in this). She listened to you intently as she watched you explain everything, and as you wrapped up she leaned back onto her bed frame, taking all of this in.

“Well, that’s...something,” she finally says after a long pause, “You managed to piss off Spider-man...that’s pretty incredible.” 

“Now isn’t the time to be sarcastic, MJ!” you cry out as you hang your head in shame. MJ was the only person you had confined to about your friendship with the blue and red hero of Queens, as well as your harboring feelings for him. MJ teases you about it every now and then, but she overall has kept her word of secrecy on the matter, which you greatly appreciated. 

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she continues, “But I think he had a point about Peter. Listen, I love to poke fun at that little white boy, but you take it to a whole other level.” This makes you frown in response.

“He deserves it,” you mumble back, but just loud enough for her to hear. Now it was her turn to frown.

“Does he?” she asks you, “I can’t believe I’m taking his side, but Peter’s hasn’t done anything wrong. I think your jealousy is taking things out of context.”

“I’m not jealous of him!” you claim, “Why should I be!? I don’t want to be a stupid science nerd like him.”

“I’m a science nerd,” MJ points out, “So is Ned. Are we stupid?” 

“You’re different,” you retort back if a huff, “You’re cool and weird but in a good way.”

“As I should be,” she replies with a shrug, “But I still think that you have been a bit too hard on him. Which is kind of funny, because I remember that you had a crush on him.”

“T-That was in the beginning of the year!” you hastily quip back, feeling your cheeks flush up out of embarrassment, “That was before he started getting on my nerves!” It’s true, the first time you had met Peter, you were at a game shop with your mom buying a console. It was the first week since you moved from Los Angeles to Queens, and the both of you were still trying to navigate the city. To make you feel better about the move, your mom promised to buy you a console that had just been released which you had your eye on ever since it was announced. 

When you were in the game shop, you noticed him with Ned, who was accompanying him. The two of them were gushing over the release of a new Star Wars video game which had just been released recently. His smile was the first thing that attracted you. It really lit up his whole face so nicely that you couldn’t help but blush. Then you remembered the horror you felt when your overly extroverted mother approached them and started sparking up a conversation with them (her excuse was that they seemed to be about your age, which she wasn’t wrong about, but it seemed a bit unnecessary!). Peter then noticed you, awkwardly standing a few feet behind your mom with a bag of cupcakes that she had gotten from the city’s famous cupcake shop. He and Ned introduced themselves to you, and the kind smile he gave to you made your heart jump. 

The memory made you frown. Now you just felt embarrassed for having a crush on him. Yet again, you didn’t expect that you would be attending the same school, where you found out just how incredibly talented he was. It impressed you in the beginning, as soon as your parents got wind of the bright young boy with the Stark internship, it all blew up in your face. Watching you reminisce upon this, MJ asks you, 

“You sure you still don’t have a crush on him?” You answer with a profound and loud no, which MJ interprets as a good time to drop the subject. So decided to get back on track.

 “You’re going to hate me for suggesting this,” MJ says, then takes a bite at a pretzel stick from the bowl she had beside her, “But I think you should apologize to Peter.”

“WHAT?” you shout so loud that the crows in the tree out in the backyard were startled.

“Here me out,” MJ begins, her hands held up in defense, “You feel guilty about yelling at Spider-man, right?” You reply with a nod.

“Well, wasn’t the reason why he was upset with you was because you ditched Peter? Maybe if you apologize to Peter, Spider-man could forgive you.” 

“I don’t need to apologize to him!” you retort, crossing your arms in a huff.

“Even if you don’t want to, you should,” she replies, taking another bite of a pretzel stick, “It’s that or you never see your Spider-boyfriend again.” This makes you frown out of dissatisfaction, and you ask her,

“How would Spider-man even know that I apologized to him?!”

“Doesn’t Peter work at Stark? I remember him mentioning that he and Spider-man were buds. You could ask Peter if you could talk to Spider-man.” she answers. Though you doubted the possibility of this happening, MJ might not be wrong. If what she’s saying is true then that means if you apologized to Peter then you could make up with Spider-man! 

“How do I make up with Peter?” you ask her with a determined look on your face. MJ smirks in satisfaction, pleased to have gotten to you. She tells you,

“First you admit what a big dingus you’ve been towards him.” This makes your frown, much to the amusement of your friend. She continues,

“Then you should get to know him better, not as who you think he is, but for who he really is.” You frown in thought.

“Look at Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s relationship, for example,” she suggests, “At first she judges him based on her assumptions about him. She thinks he’s stuck up, cold, rude, and selfish, which leads her to probably one of the best roasts in literary history. Though it turns out that he’s just very socially awkward and that she was misled by false information about him.”

“What’chya getting at?” you ask her, suspicious of her ramblings

“Well, maybe like Elizabeth, you’re letting your pride misjudge Peter.” she proposes.

“Maybe my pride is correct.” you say firmly. 

“God, you are so stubborn!” MJ groans, “Do you want to see Spider-man or not?!” This makes you shut your mouth, and you allow her to continue.

“Okay,” she lets out a huff, “Whether you’re right or wrong, taking the time to get to know Peter will benefit you. You could learn a lot about him. And who knows? Maybe you can find out something about Spider-man, too?” This peaks your interest. Could she be right about that? You had no idea how close Spider-man and Peter were, but the tutoring lessons could be helpful in trying to use Peter to figure out who the masked hero was. It sounded sleazy, but it felt like good motivation to make up with him.

“Tomorrow, as soon as you get to school, talk to him privately and apologize to him,” she tells you, “And sound like you mean it, even if you don’t.” You let out a groan. It was annoying that you had to make up with him, but with MJ’s suggestion (and your grade on the line) you knew you were out of options. It was either suck it up and go with it or fail your classes and lose the potential freedom from your parents. As you and MJ continued to watch the movie, you could yourself ponder over your first feelings towards Peter again.

-

The next day at school you arrived early in order to locate Peter. The weather had chilled considerably, so today you dawned your red down coat that was perfect for the cool, overcast morning. You hustled yourself quickly to the lockers, hoping to catch Ned and Peter. Instead, you spotted Ms. Lee by your locker, staring down at you from across the hallway. His made you immediately stop you in your tracks, a cold sweat rushing throughout your body. She beckoned you to come towards her, to which you sheepishly complied. By the sour look on her face, you could tell you were in deep shit. She greets you with a cross-sounding “Good morning”, which you meekly wished her one as well. 

“Mr. Fill informed me that you didn’t show up to meet with Peter on Friday,” she tells you, “I was also told that you two also made quite the scene on Wednesday. Would you care to tell me what happened?”  You gulped. There was no way you could fabricate a response believable enough for her to take right now. She was visibly upset with you, and you could feel it weigh you down. The right thing to do was to tell the truth, but you were horrified by what would come out of that (see: your parent’s reaction). As you struggled to come up with a response, you didn’t notice that someone was approaching the two of you. 

“Hey (Y/N)!” a familiar voice called out to you. You turned about to see who it belonged to and were very shocked to see a cheery Peter Parker walking up to you.

“You left this at my place on Friday,” he hands you a blue spiral bound notebook, which you take with utter confusion. Ms. Lee shared your perplexed expression as well, looking at the teen boy with a raised brow. 

“Good morning Mr. Parker,” she greets him, regaining her authoritative aura, “I was just asking (Y/N) about your study session on Friday. Mr. Fill told me that while you were at the library on Friday, (Y/N) was nowhere to be seen. Did this have something to do with your bickering on Wednesday?” You looked over at Peter, wide-eyed with terror at what he would say. Knowing him, he was probably going to use this to his advantage and throw you under the bus-

“Oh, right!” he snaps his fingers as if he remembered something, then turns to Ms. Lee, “(Y/N) texted me the day before and said that the library was too distracting for them. So we agreed that we would study at my place from now on. For some reason I forgot about that and was waiting for them until I remembered! It’s my bad, Ms. Lee.”

…Huh?   

There was no way you were hearing this right now. Was Peter covering for you? Was this a prank? It had to be, right?! You sneaked a pinch on yourself and surely enough, this was all happening in real time. While you were busy being confused by your current reality, Ms. Lee and Peter continued conversing.

“I see,” she says, though she sounded suspicious, “And I presume you two made up?” 

“Of course!” he replies gleefully, giving you a nudge to help him sell the lie. You snap out of your confusion and give her a hasty nod.

“Well, I’m glad you were able to work things out,” she says with a pleased smile, then turns to you, “I do think it’s better for you to work in a more personal setting than a public one. And if it works, then who am I to complain.” She then bids you two a good day, where you and Peter both watch her walk down the hall. Just as she was out of earshot, you decided that this would be the perfect chance to apologize to him. 

“Peter,” you quickly turned to him, “I-”

“Meet me at the football bleachers during break,” he cuts you off coolly, still looking towards the hall, “We need to talk.” The first warning bell chimes throughout the school, and the hall begins to bustle with high schoolers desperate to make it to their first period on time. So he leaves you alone, perplexed with all that just occurred and anxious for what’s to come during break.

-

As soon as biology wrapped up, you sprinted past some students towards MSST’s football field. The chilled air hit you as soon as you opened the doors to the field , tickling your cheeks. You jogged across the football field, where students were spending their break tossing playing catch, jogging around the field, or just sitting on the grass and chatting. Halfway into your jog you spotted Peter, who was sitting in the mid-section of the bleachers. You hurried yourself towards his direction quickly, the anticipation clenching your stomach. He notices you and gives you a surprised look. 

Guess he didn’t expect me to show up, you think to yourself as you trudge up the metal bleachers. You finally reached him and sat beside him (leaving space between the two of you, of course) in a huff. There was silence at first, besides the sounds of the schoolyard. You wondered if you should speak up first, but for some reason you couldn’t think of anything to say. The cold air made you shove your hands in your pockets, and you look towards him, where he continued to look out to the field, a very serious expression plastered across his face. This was the first time you had ever seen the awkwardly goofy Peter Parker look so stern, and though you would usually find pleasure in seeing him so pissed, it actually scared you a little. After what felt like an eternity, Peter finally spoke up,

“You have a real shit attitude, you know.” The cool bluntness takes you by surprise. In all of the months you have bullied Peter, this was the first time he has ever cussed at you. You wondered how long he’s been waiting to do that. He exhales a long, controlled breath and continues to talk,

“I would love to know what I did for you to hate me so much. Because last time I checked, I’ve been nothing but nice to you since you moved here. Was it something I said? Something I did?!” He turns to you, his glare piercing through your soul as he waits for a response. You opened your mouth, but words evaded you. For the first time Peter has left you speechless. The cockiness you usually had towards him was nowhere to be found. No snarky comeback, no rolling of the eyes, all you could do was gape at him. Peter, seeing that you weren’t answering, turns back to look at the field and continue speaking,

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think this is going to work out. Us working together. I’m going to talk to Ms. Lee and see if she can set you up with someone else.” Shit, this wasn’t good! You were going to lose your chance at apologizing to Spider-man! You had to do something, quick!

“No!” you reply with a shout, grabbing his arm out of impulse. The shout was a little too loud as it echoes throughout the field, catching the attention of everyone there. He looks at you, startled by both the shout and the grip. Noticing the eyes turned to you and Peter, a blush flushing your cheeks. You immediately retreat your hand as students went back to minding their own business, then take a breath to control yourself. 

 “I-I mean,” you looked at him, sheepishly. Come on, (Y/N), it’s now or never!

“I’m sorry.” you say.

To say Peter was shocked was an understatement. He gave you the most puzzled you have ever seen anyone give you, and who could blame him? An apology from you wasn’t what he was expecting from you. He thought the most you would do was scoff and walk away, unbothered, so now he was caught off guard.

“I’m sorry for being such a huge asshole on Wednesday” you continue, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes, “And for ditching you on Friday. It was uncalled for. I should’ve talked to you instead of ignoring you.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you repeat, “I still want to work with you. Please forgive me.” There was silence yet again, and you could see that Peter was still processing your apology. You look at him, concerned and wondering if he was malfunctioning because he hadn’t said a word. He finally lets out an exhale, and you felt relieved that you hadn’t short circuited him. Finally, he says,

“Okay, I forgive you.” he says. You blink in surprise.

“What?” you say.

“I forgive you,” he repeats, amused by your reaction. Though today was just full of unexpected surprises, you felt a sense of relief from his words. However, a sense of guilt sat in your stomach, remembering that you were doing this for your own personal gain. 

As long as he doesn’t find out, you have nothing to worry about, you convince yourself, though the feeling didn’t go away. 

“Though if we’re going to continue working together, I suggest we make my lie a reality.” he says.

“What do you mean?” you ask him quizzically.

“I mean that you actually come over and study at my place.” he says. You widen your eyes in surprise. Was he being serious?! It was impressive that he wanted to be so committed to his fabricated tale, but didn’t this seem like a little much? 

“A-are you sure?” you ask, perplexed by the idea. He nods.

“I am,” he says, “My aunt wouldn’t mind. She likes the company, anyway.” You take a minute to think this through. Going to Peter’s place would mean you were going to spend much more time with him, considering the travel time from Midtown to Queens. And there would be no doubt that Flash would catch you two together and relentlessly tease you for being with his rival. However, being at his place means that you could get one step closer to finding out more about Spider-man. This was an opportunity you couldn’t refuse. You decided to take up his proposal.

“I’m in.” you finally tell him.

“Okay,” he says, rubbing his hands, “Because if Ms. Lee found out I lied to her we’re dead meat.”  

“Let’s shake on it,” you tell him, then hold your hand out towards him. You wait for him to take it, but instead he says,

“I want you to promise that you’re not going to ditch me again,” he says, “I’m doing this to help you pass.” This pinches you in the gut. The guilt you had felt before returned, making you second guess the sincerity of your actions. Why is he taking this so seriously, you wondered, does he really care about whether or not you pass? What benefit is he getting out of this. You didn’t have time to ponder this, so you shook off the thoughts and sincerely say,

“I promise.” Peter watches you, looking for any signs of feigning, but you held yourself up long enough for him to finally take your hand. You give each other a firm shake, settling on your agreement. As you pull your hands away from each other, you remember something.

“Oh, I should give this back to you.” you say to him as you grab your backpack. He watches as you rummage through it, your eyes lighting up when you finally locate it. You pull out the blue spiral-bound notebook he had given you in the morning. 

“I think you’ll need this,” you say, holding out the notebook to him.

“Oh, thanks, I need this,” he says, taking it from your hands, “U-um, so do you want to meet up Wednesday after school?” 

“Sure.” you say, giving him an awkward smile, to which he returns. Good, now your plan can kick off. All you had to do now was get through studying with Peter. Maybe MJ is right, it might not be all that bad. As the bell rang the two of you headed to your next class together, though the both of you were unaware that a folded slip of paper from Peter’s notebook was not sitting at the bottom of your backpack.

-

On Wednesday, you were waiting at the school’s front gate, as you promised. The chilled weather made you bury yourself into your coat, and you just hoped Peter would get out soon. He told you via text that he had to grab something from the chemistry room, and though you offered to wait for him by the classroom he insisted you waited for him outside. Watching students pass by, you began to wonder about Peter’s aunt. You had never seen her before, but MJ told you that she was very pretty and was very protective of her nephew. You then realized that Peter has definitely talked to her about you, and now you were beginning to grow anxious. You wouldn’t blame her for wanting to take you down for being a shithead to her nephew, but you obviously didn’t want to deal with her wrath. You could only hope that she wouldn’t be at home so you could be spared.

A tap on your shoulder breaks you from your thoughts and you look to see who touched you, only to be facing Peter.

“Ready to head out?” he asks you, motioning his head towards the closest subway station entrance. You nod, so the two of you begin to make your way towards Queens.

The two of you didn’t talk as you headed down to the subway station, and upon entering the car you grimaced over how it was practically full of people. The next train wouldn’t be until twenty minutes though, so the both of you squeezed your way into the crowd. The both of you were practically shoulder to shoulder, with you gripping the nearest stabilizing pole and Peter keeping himself up with the rail above him. Being so close to him made you feel so uncomfortable from the awkwardness, and you tried your best to avoid eye contact with him as you guys rode. That would only last so long, though. Halfway through the ride you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Foolishly, you let go of the pole to retrieve it, but you didn’t realize that you were reaching another stop. The cart began to halt, the force of it all making you lose your footing. You tried to re-stabilize yourself but you felt your body fall backward, making you let out a scared yelp. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab your waist, stopping you from falling on top of the surrounding passengers. You turn and see it was Peter who had caught you. He pulls you back up and tugs you near him, making you even closer to him than before. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. Still dazed from the catch, you nod back and straighten yourself up. You realized that this is the closest you have ever been to Peter, and he seemed to recognize this revelation two and the two of you were stuck in this position for what felt like eternity. He suddenly realizes that he’s still got his arm around your waist, and he immediately retracts it, and you noticed that his cheeks were a slight tint of pink. You took a small step away from him to grab the pole again, and for the remainder of the ride the two of you avoided eye contact.

Soon the stop to Queens approached, and the two of you hopped out of the train car. You followed Peter closely as he navigated through the bustling Queens and eventually got to his apartment complex. Like all the buildings in the area, it was much smaller in size compared to the giants in Manhattan (though you didn’t mind; tall buildings weren’t your favorite thing). After he buzzed in, he let you inside of the complex, and like a duckling you followed him up two flights of stairs and into the second story hallway. Soon you were watching him as he approached a eggshell-\colored door with the numbers 205 plated in bronze above the peephole. He grabs his keys and puts them into the worn door handle, and with a twist and a click he pushes the door open and enters his apartment, where you slowly but carefully enter in suit.

While taking off your shoes you gazed around the space, which was small but it didn’t feel cramped. Peter leads you to the dining area, which was connected to both the kitchen and the living room. Upon the table were several papers and letters, to which Peter apologizes for and quickly gathers up the mess to make space for both of your study materials. Once it was clear of it’s chaos, you slink yourself into the bench situating your bag to left as he sits himself on the right side of the table.

“My aunt May told me she’ll be working late today, so don’t worry about any distractions,” he tells you, pulling his backpack beside him. This makes you internally exhale in relief. He goes into good host mode, offering you snacks and water but you declined it politely since you felt weirded out by your rival trying to be nice to you. The both of you shift uncomfortably in your seats, waiting for the other to speak up so the tension could be broken. Peter, always trying his best, decides to start,

“O-okay! Let’s get started! Um…” He looks at you as he begins to fiddle with his hands nervously, “We can work on inter-molecular forces! Or maybe we should go back to the basics and review atoms and ions? O-or look over the periodic table?”  You could tell by his body language that he was trying to be careful with your words, considering how you reacted last time. Though you were slightly amused by how hard he was trying, it did make you feel a bit bad for your reaction last week. You were starting to reconsider what Spider-man had said. You realized that you should probably respond before he throws out more suggestions, so you say, 

“Can we work on the quiz from last week? I mean, we got it back today, so maybe it’ll be good to look over it.” Peter was quite surprised by your input, and immediately you feared that you had said something wrong. Expecting to receive some sort of snarky comment, you were amazed when he smiles and agrees,

“Y-yeah! S-sounds good!”

It was quite embarrassing for you to see him look at the 19% grade that was scribbled in bright red on your quiz, while he gloated a proud 100%. Without thinking you made a stank face, until Peter pointed it out while he was looking over your quiz answers. You immediately dropped it, feeling embarrassed at getting caught, though you could help but stare at his perfect grade. For you, it was rare to see those triple digits on your assignments and tests, and when you were gifted with that lucky gem you felt invincible. Is that what Peter feels whenever he gets his scores back, or is it so common for him that he just shrugs it off? Before you could sink into your thoughts even more, Peter flips the quiz back to the front page and looks up at you.

“You didn’t finish the quiz?” he asks you, a brow raised, “Did something happen?” Immediately you felt ashamed, but you tried to hold your ground, not wanting to expose it to Peter. Instead, you say with attitude,

“Why’s that a problem? I just didn’t finish it. Happens to the best of us.” Peter gives you a look, not being fooled by your act.

“Did you run out of time?” he asks you. You didn’t respond, but instead looked away from him, which gave him confirmation.

“I noticed you got stuck on question three, and I get it, I had a though time with that one, too.” he tells you, looking back at the question.

“Don’t try to humble yourself.” you quip back.

“I’m not!” he cries, “Really!” You look at him as you’re not convinced, making Peter sigh in defeat.

“Look, why don’t we just go over this question and the ones you didn’t answer? Then I can get a better read on what’s troubling you with this subject.” You made a small groan, but reluctantly agreed to the proposal, and for the next two hours the two of you went through the quiz. Unlike last time, where he was just talking you ear off, Peter instructed you to write down notes and even re-do the questions, which actually turned out to be much more helpful to you. A few times Peter had to coax questions out of you, which was probably the hardest thing for you to do since you feared ridicule over what you asked. However, Peter didn’t find them ridiculous at all, and would even provide a simpler, straight to the point answer that was much easier to comprehend than Mr. Cobwell’s complex ones. After what felt like forever, the both of you were beginning to exhibit signs of burnout. Peter caught onto this after he watched you stare at your notebook in a daze.

“Let’s call it a day,” he suggests, stretching his arms out to relieve the tension built in them.

“Yes, please,” you mumble, blinking hard as your eyes were tiring out, “I think my brain is going to fry up if I look at another molecular equation.” While you were packing your stuff up, you looked out the window beside you and noticed that it’s already getting dark outside. You wondered if you’ll be back home in time for dinner. Not that you were anticipating it, anyway. The sound of keys being inserted into the apartment alarm the two of you. You and Peter look at the door, which opens to reveal a very beautiful middle aged woman, and you could help but gape at her aura.   

“Hiya Pete!” she happily exclaims as she takes off her jacket and hands it up on the hooks next to the door, “So sorry for being late, the manager had me sweep before I clocked out.” Realization hits you like a brick. She’s Peter's aunt?! Well, MJ wasn’t wrong about her looks, but you were not expecting her to be this attractive. It seems like she could feel your eyes on her, because she immediately takes notice of you.

“Pete, who is this?” she asks, pointing to you. You feel your body freeze, remembering that you were most likely going to meet your maker when she finds out who you are.

 “Oh, this is (Y/N),” Peter says, pointing his thumb to you, “The classmate I’m tutoring, remember? They moved from California last summer?” Out of fear you forced yourself to stand up straight and gave her a small, shy wave.    

“I-it’s nice to meet you, M-ms. Parker!” you stutter sheepishly. May took a second to remember your name, and when she recognizes her eyes light up in surprise. She looks over at you, then to Peter. May raises her brows at Peter as asks him,

“Are they…?” To which Peter nods in response. You watched anxiously  have their silent conversation, trying to decipher what on earth they were talking about. Was it about the bullying? Crud, you were going to be in deep shit! You glanced at the door, thinking that you should just book it, until May’s expression melts and is replaced with a bright, welcoming smile.

“Oh! You’re (Y/N)!” his aunt exclaimed with delight, then immediately makes a b line up to you, “You’re the one that works at Delmar’s, right?! Peter has told me so much about you!” 

“R-really?!” you expressed with confusion.

“Oh don’t worry, nothing bad,” she assures you, waving her hand dismissively, “Actually, quite the opposite!” This makes you turn to Peter, where you give him the most perplexed look you could give a person. Did Peter not tell his aunt about how you’ve treated him? If not, why would he withhold this information from her? Peter reads your expression, but instead of saying anything he looks the other way and rubs the back of his neck. Okay, you needed to ask him about this another time.  

“I was just about to invite Peter out for some Thai food!” she tells you, “Would you like to come with us?” Though you were flattered by the invitation, you felt like it wouldn’t be a good idea to tag along, so you say

“I think I should head home. I don’t want to overstay my wel-'' Before you could finish, an incredibly loud gargle emitted from your stomach. You blushed, horrified and betrayed by your own stomach, as Peter stifled a laugh. You give him a glare, making him shut up, which May finds very amusing. 

-

It seems like every other day the world kept challenging your expectations. 

Who would’ve guessed that you would be spending your Wednesday evening dining with your rival and his aunt at their favorite Thai restaurant located five minutes away from them? MJ was going to have a field day when you tell her this tomorrow. Well, at least this was better than eating at home, you thought to yourself. You and Peter were seated beside each other, while his aunt sat across from her nephew. The three of you were helping yourselves with servings of the sour and spicy tom yum soup, the sweet but flaming yellow curry, and juicy larb lettuce wraps (Peter’s favorite, or so his aunt claims). 

“I’m so glad your mother agreed to let me take you out for dinner, dear,” May says with a smile, “I can finally get to know you a little better!” 

“U-um, yeah. I’m kind of surprised she let me come.” you admit to her, then take a sip of your serving of soup.

“Why is that?” she asks you. It would be awkward to admit to her that you kind of expected your mom to make you come home to eat, which would have saved you from this very odd situation you got yourself into. On the other hand, it did save you from having to spend dinner with your parents. It was a strange blessing in disguise.

“My mom is usually strict about me going out with people she hasn’t met before.” you tell her, which was true. Your mom has always been adamant about meeting people you hang out with, though you usually tried to avoid such as she is pretty judgemental about other people. Thankfully, you have been able to save MJ from her unfair shrewdness. It also explains why you never mentioned to her about your acquaintance with Spider-man, as you knew she’d have a handful of shit to say about him. To you, the more you had your parents out of your personal life, the more at peace you were. 

“I can understand why,” May says after she swallows her bite of yellow curry, “Especially since you guys are still new to the area. New York is full of wacky characters, after all. Wouldn’t want you to get mixed up with the wrong kinds of people.” You take a glance at Peter, who hasn’t said much during the conversation, instead carefully watching the two of you as he munches down some larb. 

“So Peter told me you work at Delmar’s,” she says, “Why is someone as young as you working for him? Especially during junior year?” 

“Oh, I wanted to earn some extra cash,” you explain to her, “I want to be more financially independent, you know? So I was looking at other service and retail jobs, however the ones that had openings were full time or had a strict part time arrangement, which wouldn’t work out for school. But Delmar was nice enough to be compliant with my school schedule, so he took me in.” 

“Wow, lucky you!” she exclaims with a smile, “Then you must like working there, huh?” 

“I mean, it’s a bit boring at times, but it has its perks.” you tell, thinking about a certain someone. This makes your heart heavy again, making you look down at your food. 

“Has Delmar told you about what happened to that place last year?” she asks you.

“Oh, you mean the explosion caused by those bank robbers?” you say, perking your head up, “Yeah, he mentions it every once in a while. He always talks about how Spider-man saved him and Murph from the wreckage.” 

“Really?” May asks, an amused smile creeping upon her face as she looks over at Peter, who you noticed had froze up mid-bite.

“Yeah,” you say, raising your brow at your classmate’s odd behavior. You turn back to her and tell her, “Actually, Spider-man was one of the reasons I got hired by Delmar.”

“Is that so?” she asks with a delighted tone, her eyes watching her nephew as his eyes shift from her to you. This was just like their weird silent conversation at the apartment! Were they always like this? Maybe this is where Peter gets his uncanny behavior from. You had to pretend to not be bothered by it, so you continue,

“Yeah...he actually introduced me to Delmar a few weeks into my move. I was trying to get to know the Queens area a little more so I took the bus to this area. However about two hours into exploring I got completely lost, and on top of that I had left my house in a rush so I didn’t check how much battery life my phone had, so it had died. I tried to ask around for help but no one bothered, and I pretty much thought I was screwed.” You paused for a moment, feeling like you were saying too much, only to notice d that Peter and May were listening to you intently. Realizing you could continue, you say,

“But by sheer luck, Spider-man was in the area, and he found me by chance. I told him my situation and he offered to take me to a bodega that was selling portable chargers, and since he was the only other person I knew at the time I went with him. And that bodega was Delmar’s! He introduced me to him, and told him about my situation. Since Delmar was such a fan of Spider-man, he actually allowed me to charge my phone in the outlet behind the counter, but I didn’t have a charging cable so Spider-man offered to pay for one. 

“While I was waiting for my phone to charge Delmar was telling Spider-man that he was looking for a part-time employee, as his son who used to help him out was off to college in New Jersey. I mentioned that I was looking for work, but Delmar was hesitant about taking me in. For some reason Spider-man vouched for me, and because Delmar is a Spider-man fanboy he agreed to consider me. Next week I got a call from Delmar asking if I’d like to take on the job and I said yes.”

As you wrap up your tale, May was still watching you, seemingly fascinated by it. Peter, on the other hand, had resumed eating, but his expression had changed into a serious one.    

“Now that I think about it, I never paid him back for the charger,” you say without thinking. 

“Well, Pete here knows Spider-man,” May informs you, making Peter choke on the larb he was currently chewing on. 

“Y-yes, I am aware of this,” you say with a forced smile, “Everyone in our school knows about that.”

“Well, maybe Peter can help you out with paying him back, if you want,” she suggests. This makes your eyes perk up in hope. Maybe your initial mission will be finished sooner than you thought! You were just about to express your willingness for this, but Peter jumps into the conversation,

“I-I think Spider-man doesn’t care if you paid him back or not,” he says, still recovering from his sudden choking, “He was just happy to help you out. A-also he’s been really busy lately, so it’s been hard for me to get into contact with him.” Damn it! You hiss internally. You try your best to hide your disappointment, but May seemed to have caught onto it.

“Well, maybe next time you run into him!” May reassures you, but you highly doubt this. For a moment you thought you were going to be ten steps ahead, and now you felt like you were all the way back to the start. For the remainder of dinner, May carried on with talking, while both you and Peter continued to silently eat your food.  

-

 After the three of you finished up dinner, May offered that she drive you home, but you politely declined and said that you’d just walk to your bus stop. So then she offered that her and Peter escort you to your stop and see you off safely. Once all of you reached it, you turned to her and Peter, pulling your backpack strap higher to your shoulder and said,

“Thank you for taking me out for dinner. And for walking me here. I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, no problem, dear!” May exclaims as she takes your hand and clasps it between hers, “I’m just so happy I finally got to meet you!” You give her a shy smile, still taken aback by her kindness but appreciative of it. You turn to Peter, who met your eyes as he was fiddling with his hands uncomfortably.

“Um…thanks for today,” you say to him, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“U-uh, yeah,” he nods, “Get home safely.” You nod in response, and luckily just in time your bus pulls into the stop, freeing you from this delicate air.

“Please text Peter when you are home, okay dear?” May asks you as you make your way to the bus. 

“I will, ma’am!” you assure her, and then hop onto the vehicle, making yourself comfortable as you head for home. As May and Peter watch your bus drive off, she comments,

“(Y/N) is just how you described them to me. Definitely a shy clam, but they seem like a good kid.”

“Yeah.” Peter responds, his eyes still watching the bus disappear into traffic.

“Are you ever going to tell them?” she asks, looking down at her nephew

“I don’t know,”    he admits, frowning, “Honestly, I’m afraid of what will happen when they find out.”

----

Grace is based off of Chinese pop idol FeiFei Zhong

Frankie is based off of American actor Ian Alexander

[cutestlittlekoi]

"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment.

Roommates. They suck. Especially when your roommate happens to be your high school bully.

Alexis was everyones favorite. Endless friends, lunch dates, swooning boys, and academic achievements was her daily life. Xander was the, per say, 'bad boy' stereotype. All the girls loved him. He got his dick wet almost daily, building a reputation for himself. Athletic, attractive, smart, but only used it for trouble. And that's what he found when he met Alexis. What a perfect target for his daily abuse. Constant shoves in the hallways, jokes about their appearance, pinches and flicks that evolved into harassment. An honest dick, in general. Years of torment she put up with. Until finally Alexis was free. High school graduation came and went, Alexis found a career path in video editing and photography, using skating professionally and an undercover OnlyFans account as extra cash on the side. Of course, being on her own for the first time was scary, so in order to combat loneliness and financial strain, she looked for a roommate. Finally, she came across an ad, desperate for anyone. It only took 2 days of planning before she moved in, excited to find out the house was only some old high school buddies. Little did she know, that included Xander. Right across the hall from her. On the second story. That no one else inhabited but the two of them. Ironic, right? Relishing in their high school days, Xander took his opportunity to make Alexis' life hell more than it already was. He stopped laundry mid wash, unplug her monitors and equipment, leave her cameras on to drain the batteries, move her personal stuff from cabinets, and "misplace" her chargers. Finally, Alexis had enough when he found out about her private OnlyFans and threatened to leak her identity.

"How do you think your parents will feel about that? Your clientele? All your little friends? Hell, even your own roommates? You think they'll want that kind of attention here?" Xander laughed sadistically, facing the teary-eyed girl that stood before him.

"I...You...Just..." She stumbled over her words, threatening to break at any moment.

"Aww, what? Are you gonna cry? How fucking pathetic. You're so sad, just a little loser, huh?"

That was it. Something snapped in her. The teasing, the harassment, the torture, the constant fighting. It finally got to her. She looked up at Xander, feeling a new found anger and confidence all in one.

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say to me?"

"Fuck. You. You absolute pathetic piece of shit. You're worth nothing. You look down on others to feel better about yourself! You're nothing but a sniveling, pathetic, unworthy, steaming pile of shit. I hate you."

Xander stared in amazement at her. Did she just stand up to him? No, she wouldn't dare. But she did? What does he do now? He never expected her to snap like that. But he knew one thing. He didn't like it.

"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment. She yelled in frustration and turned and stomped down the hallway to the bathroom. Once inside, she washed her face, catching her breath. Her roommates were going out of town that day, already having left the house, so it was just her and Xander. But she didn't care right now. She was simply just hoping he'd get the hint and leave her alone for that bit of time.

Stalking back to her room, she sighed, feeling herself get heavy. What was it about him that made her so irritated? She could live without his torment and sleep peacefully at night. But she couldn't bring herself to leave. Why? What was her issue? She didn't want to admit he was attractive, or that she stared at his body when he was shirtless, or that his swearing was occasionally hot, because she was supposed to hate him. But as she laid in bed that night, she couldn't help but feel herself get wet at the idea of him between her legs.

After several minutes, it became unbearable and she had to reach her small hand down to feel herself through her shorts. Her legs ached as she arched her back, a gentle moan escaping her lips. She didn't care about her soft noises, considering Xander would be fast asleep by now and it would be just her. But unbeknownst to her, a particular person was listening. Getting up to get a water bottle, Xander opened his door, taking one step out before he heard a certain noise, quite familiar to him. Not being able to help himself, he quietly crossed the hall to Alexis' door, pressing his ear to it, only to be welcomed by a symphony of whimpers. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes in disgust. Until one of said whimpers included his name. Intrigued, he pressed further, hearing unholy confessions involving him spilling from Alexis' lips. It wasn't before long that he had his own problem to take care of, cursing himself and rushing back to his room to gather his thoughts.

The next morning, life continued as normal. Alexis hopped downstairs, wearing a perfect little skirt, some pretty pink fishnets, knee high cat socks, an oversized tshirt, and a darling choker accented by matching rings on corresponding hands. Bouncing into the kitchen, she leaned against the counter trying to reach the cereal. Only to be outstretched by a larger hand dazzled in rings. She shrunk down, watching as Xander picked it off the shelf, chuckling behind her. It sent chills down her spine. Did she have a newfound attraction to him?? No, no, it can't be. She turned around, coming face to face with the tall man as he towered over her. An intimidation tactic. She gasped as he pushed her up against the counter.

"Well, look who's brave enough to show their face."

Alexis scowled, moving out the side to get away from him. Xander laughed, putting the cereal back on its respective shelf. He leaned against the counter, watching carefully as Alexis crossed the kitchen to open the fridge, getting out a water bottle. As she bends down, he gets a beautiful view of the underside of her thighs and curve of her ass. He smirks, seeing her stand back up, turning around to glare at him as she heads towards the entrance to retreat to her room. Before she gets the chance to escape, Xander grabs her arm. Alexis' turns and stares up at him, startled for a second before she attempts to yank her arm from his grasp. He only tightens his grip, causing her to question him.

"Let me go, what's your deal?"

"Oh, so you don't wanna explain what last night was about?"

She rolls her eyes.

"So what? I stood up to you, get over it."

She turned to exit again, only to be pulled back and slammed back first against the counter. She cried out in pain, pushing against Xander with all her might. But he only grabbed her chin, forcing to make eye contact with him. Alexis whimpered, making Xander chuckle.

"I'm not talking about that, brat."

"W-What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, bitch. I heard you moaning my name, begging for me. I may be too blind to see it, but I'm definitely not too deaf."

Alexis gasped, turning immediately red. Quickly, she began to struggle, hitting Xander in the stomach. He groaned and backed into the opposing stove, while Alexis made a run for her room. Xander composed himself, and chased after her, catching up quickly. He wrapped an arm around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into his room. Tossing her on his bed, he turned and locked his door quickly, despite her protest. She quickly backed away further into his bed when he advanced towards her. Grabbing both of her legs, he yanked her back down, his strength winning over hers. Tears formed in her eyes as she covered her face, flustered by her obvious vulnerability to him. He rips her hands away from her face, slapping her before forcing her to look back at him. Dazed, her mouth falls open, allowing him to spit into it. He forces her to close and swallow, tears falling out of her now closed eyes, giving up her fight.

"See, now was that so hard, darling?"

Alexis whimpered in response, letting her arms fall limp next to her.

"Aww, poor darling. Giving in to me." Xander runs his thumb across her bottom lip, eyes glistening in anticipation and excitement.

"God, I wonder what that pretty little mouth feels like." He marvels at her reaction, her eyes flying open and looking at him with fear. He laughs, a sadistic smile coming across his face.

"First, I want to get a taste."

He leans down, gripping her chin, kissing her soft lips. Xander groans into her mouth, making her whimper and her eyes flutter. Her mouth falls open again out of pleasure, letting him slip his tongue in. He chuckles against her lips. How easy it was to overpower her. Eventually, he pulls away, a trail of saliva still connecting the two. Alexis pants, feeling herself get wet from the minimal contact. She goes to reach her hand down to her aching cunt, only to be slapped again by Xander. He growls at her, while she winces in pain, tears streaming from her eyes once again.

"Don't you fucking dare. I tell you when you can touch, understand?"

She absentmindedly nods her head. Still in a trance, she snaps out of her head, only to find she's on the floor. Her knees touch the soft carpet, as she sits back in her heels. She gently tilts her head up, greeted by Xander's hand caressing her stinging, red cheek.

"Now, precious, I want you to show me what you can offer me. If you do good enough, I'll let you have my cock."

Alexis whimpers at his words, agreeing to his terms. Xander takes the invitation, undoing his belt, and unbuttoning his jeans. Once done, he sets his belt on the bed, saving it for later. He reaches down, rubbing his bulge over his boxers, his cold rings stinging against his burning, thinly clothed skin. Alexis watches with lidded eyes, mouth watering at the sight. How is she turned on by this? It was wrong. Yet, she needed it. She wanted it. But she'd never openly admit it. Or so she thinks.

"Open up, I'm gonna use that pretty little tongue to my liking, understand?"

Alexis dutifully opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out. Xander quickly pulled his throbbing cock out, gently stroking himself. Precum dripped from his tip, showing his excitement. Soon, Xander was forcing his shaft down Alexis' throat, feeling the warmth of her mouth surrounding him. He groans, leaning his head back as his fists her hair. Tears well in her eyes, but from how big he is this time. He begins using her mouth to his pleasure, shoving his cock down her throat, fucking it to his liking. Moans fill the room as he pants out curses. Alexis feels herself getting wetter and wetter, soaking her pretty pink panties, legs aching from desperation. Finally, after several minutes, Xander pulls out of her mouth, panting and breathing heavily as his cock pulses from the lack of contact. He picks Alexis up, forcing her down on the bed. He reaches into his adjacent night stand, pulling out his pretty little pistol. Alexis' eyes widen as she gasps. Xander whips around, gently shushing her, putting the gun against her stomach.

"It's ok, pretty. I'm not gonna hurt ya. If, you listen to me like a good girl."

She whimpers a quick agreement, fear paralyzing her body. Xander reaches his free hand down, pulling her soaked panties to the side, rubbing up and down her slit. Alexis moans and arches her back, rolling her eyes and whimpering as Xander presses the gun further against her. He pressed his tip against her entrance, feeling her body tense up. He chuckles lightly, running the gun down to her lower stomach, pressing firmly.

"Let me in, pretty."

Alexis quickly relaxes, eyes closing tightly as she grips the sheets. Slowly, Xander pushes in, grunting when he hits her cervix only 2/3 inside of her.

"Oh, aren't you just a tiny little thing?" He groans, feeling her cunt clench around him.

"That's it baby, come on."

Xander begins sliding in and out of her slick hole, and before long, moans flood the room. He looks up to see Alexis completely overwhelmed with pleasure. Drool leaks from her mouth, eyes lidded, moans and pants flowing out of her mouth like words. Completely in Xander’s hands. He picks up speed, hitting all of her soft spots expertly, cussing loudly when she tightens around him, whimpering his name. Soon, she starts arching her back, pressing against the gun, fisting the sheets, crying out for Xander. He gathers that she’s cumming, feeling her gush around his cock. He restrains himself from cumming solely from that, trying to enjoy this moment. But he can only try so hard. He moves his hands on either side of Alexis, ditching the gun on the bed, and grabbing his belt. He carefully wraps it around Alexis’ throat, tightening it, letting her gasp for air. She lets out an exasperated beg for Xander, making him pull harder. He leaned down to her exposed jawline, biting roughly and leaving a large hickey. He pounds in and out of her faster as he bruises her uncovered neck, leaning up towards her ear.

“I’m close. I want you to cum again, pretty. Understand? I’m gonna fill you up nice and good, ok?”

Alexis moans, not being able to comprehend what he says. It wasn’t long before she was cumming again, screaming out his name, gripping desperately to the bed, gasping for air. It pushed him over the edge, him groaning her name, pushing one final time against her cervix as he bred her sweet cunt. Xander panted, resting his head against her shoulder, eventually pulling out of her. Thoughts flooded his head of what was to come the next day, but oh-fucking-well. All he cared about was cleaning Alexis up, and falling asleep next to her.

[captaincorpse]

CW: Suicide attempt, bullying, captivity, autocannibalism, force feeding, amputation, torture, negative assumptions, verbal abuse, depressive thoughts, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, implied parental abuse, referenced death of a parent.

I purposely tried to make this character annoying, petty, and judgemental. Just thought it’d be an interesting character to try and write in a whumpy scenario. I don’t know if this is too long or if I’m not doing the squares right by doing so many at once lol @badthingshappenbingo enjoy

Julie just wanted to have friends. She moved from a small town to an even smaller town every few months, her mother promised that this time, she’d get a stable job and they could stay for more than a few months without her mother’s anger issues getting her fired.

This was better than nothing. She couldn’t afford to be picky when there were people with much worse lives than her. Julie should be grateful she had a roof over her head and food on the table and clean clothes, as her mother loved to remind her.

It’s going to get better, it’s not going to be like this all the time, you’ll get out and you’re going to be happy and you’re going to be free from all the suffering and put it all behind you. One day you’ll be happy and realize how strong you are for enduring this all by your lonesome. 

She had to tell herself this, it was the only way she could get through the day..but things were starting to look up this time.

Julie and her mother had been in their newest town for almost a year by this point. As much as she hated to admit it, Julie didn’t completely hate it here.  Her school was tolerable enough..she’d even managed to make a few acquaintances in Drama club, not that she was the acting type. She’d rather be the one supporting from the sidelines as a stagehand.

The real surprise was when she was invited to a party. She thought it was a waste of time.

“I guess that’d be fine, I’ll ask my mom if it’s okay.” She regretted it as soon as the words forced their way out of her mouth.

A snicker at the mention of her mother came from one of those stupid, shallow bitches. What was her name again? Jodie? Doesn’t matter, she was sure it was one of them, why wouldn’t they be laughing at her? Whatever, she’d show them by going to their dumb party.

Her mother said that she could go, and before she left she even told her to “Have fun with your friends, sweetheart.”

She took a sip from her water bottle and surveyed the house from the road where she had left her bike, she hadn’t gone in for a few minutes after arriving. She wanted to make her entrance perfect.

Was this worth her dignity? No..but it was worth her time, look at how lonely and smart Julie is!  They’d have to be her friend after that even if it was born from pity, someone would.

Waiting for another five minutes she glanced at her watch. 6:30. It was now or never.

No one was inside the house when she’d opened the door.

Jodie walked down the stairs after a second and gave a cheeky grin at her arrival.

“Hey, Julia! You’re early, actually..want some snacks? Did you get the time wrong or something? No worries..I’m still getting set up though, sorry. Go make yourself feel at home, okay? No one else is going to arrive for another two hours or so.

Early? No, I wanted to arrive fashionably late. Julie grimaced at the sound of her name. It was much too normal for such a unique girl such as herself, she’d get around to changing it one day.

“The fuck did you invite me to this lame ass party for, huh?”

The words escaped from her thoughts to her mouth in a split second but before she could lie, she could only watch as the girl's smile erupted into a giggle.

“So it’s that bad, huh?” Not missing a beat, Jodie parroted her words with that same stupid grin on her face.

“I never see you hang out with anyone during school or Drama. What, are you too cool for us for something? Y’know, I’ve tried to talk to you but you always ignore me when on my own during class. I thought you didn’t like me or something so it might be better to approach as a group so it’s more comfortable for you. Am I that mean?”

Another giggle, the girl was now laughing at her own joke to fill the silence, pathetic.

“Well if we bore you so much, I’d be happy to introduce you to people you might have more in common with..I mean, I was surprised that you even agreed to coming here in the first place!”

A set-up, that’s what this was. So they were really only inviting her to humiliate her. For a second, a looming dread came to Julie, but then she realized. 

A traumatic, possibly violent event like this would go great in her memoir, unlike with all the other fabrications she had tried to make her life seem worse, this could be a real turning point in her life. She just had to play it cool, naive, and unassuming.

“Oh, is that it?” Julie replied after a moment of silence “I’d love to hang out with you guys. Sorry I’ve been acting weird about it, I’m just not used to people wanting to hang out with me.”

“Really? That’d be great!”

God, could that stupid fucking smile get any bigger? It was sad, seeing how desperate this girl was to get her to like her.

Jodie continued “It’s okay, I don’t think you’re weird for not knowing how to talk to people, I still have problems talking to strangers myself.”

Another annoying giggle, just shut up already. Shut up. You don’t know anything about me.

“I just want to be your friend.”

If Jodie wasn’t going to do anything horrible for the next hour, she was taking matters into her own hands.

So Julie walked right up to Jodie, and socked her right in the jaw. As she watched her fall to the ground, Julie silently congratulated herself on bringing supplies in her tote and started to get to work tying her hands behind her back and handcuffing her to the radiator in the living room.

Ropes, a knife, a rag, and handcuffs. The essentials. 

She’d planned on having someone use them against her when she’d be presumably kidnapped, tortured, and worse. It was too bad she’d have to use them on her instead. What a waste, oh well. At least Julie would get some media coverage when she went to jail for this. It was better than nothing.

She’d almost shoved the gag in the now bound and crying girl's mouth, but she decided against it and asked her to cancel the party. It was a simple request, or was she so idiotic she couldn’t even do one thing?

Pulling the phone out of Jodie’s pocket and unlocking it once she’d gotten the password, the girl had calmed herself enough to tell Julia what to text her friends.

“Hi! Sorry, I had to pick up an extra shift suddenly so no party for today. Maybe we can get together next weekend?” Perfect? No, but good enough. According to Jodie, she did have a part-time job as a cashier, and she was known for her hard work, or as Julie liked to call it, her annoying persistence.

Apparently it wasn’t uncommon for her to cancel out of the blue, she said that was why she had tried to plan out her parties in advance to spend as much time with her friends as she could before the weekend was over, her parents were often out of town due to their jobs so she had her parties on non-business days to spare them the headaches and cleanup. This was one of those days, and again, it wasn’t uncommon. Her friends wouldn’t bother her while she was working, she hoped.

Julie jerked the phone away from Jodie’s sight before stuffing the rag in her mouth and going to the bathroom to dump her phone in the toilet. Hopefully that’d be enough to jam it or whatever people did in movies.

Now for the interesting part. God, Julia was so glad she decided to take matters into her own hands and make this night something to remember.

She grabbed the knife from her bag, and knowing that her hostage couldn’t move, got to work sawing off her left leg after some effort. Jodie passed out from the pain soon after. Sadly, she pissed and shit herself several times too. 

It was messy and bloody and disgusting, but Julie didn’t need to clean it up.If she got away with it, then there would be no media coverage..she still had to be clever enough for there to be some mystery though. What would really set her apart from all the other murderers? How could she make this situation even worse?

She heard the grumbling of her own stomach and in that second, she knew.

Jodie had gazed longingly at the snacks on the table before she was unceremoniously dragged away by the ankle. She must be hungry by now. How long had it been since she last ate?

Another few hours passed and Julie helped herself to some chips and took a swig from her water as she watched Julie awaken.

The hunk of meat that was left of Jodie’s leg didn’t look appealing in the slightest but it was better than nothing, wasn’t it?

“You hungry?” Julie asked and shoved it toward her “Go on, I’m not going to bother to cook for you or get you anything better than what you deserve. Eat.”

Oh, this, this was perfect. Having a hostage eat their own leg to survive? That would get her in the history books for sure! Julie prided herself at her quick thinking.

Jodie looked in horror at the mass of her own flesh for a second and didn’t say anything. Of course, the gag and the rope and the handcuffs, of course the girl couldn’t eat. She should have taken that into consideration. What if she had last words? Julie figured she’d deal with that later.

Well, no matter! A horrible girl such as herself forcing her to eat it? Even better if they had no other choice.

After removing the gag and cutting her leg into bite-sized pieces with her knife, Julie shoved the soft, fleshy meat down her throat again and again, waiting for her to chew and swallow until every little bite was inside of her. Again, she was pleased at her idea, this was just perfect..Jodie was vomiting a lot now though, she’d just have to force it back inside her stomach.

What to do now, huh? Ugh, she was getting a little bored. This was going almost too well, the gag had muffled her screams and no one was expecting her until school, even Julie’s mother thought she was changing plans and staying for a sleepover. Boring, boring, boring..

What could she do to make this worse? How could she possibly make this worse?

Ooh, double suicide. Maybe they could be lovers, hiding it from everyone and pretending. She’d never been seen with Jodie though, whatever, she could just pretend that no one knew. Hopefully that’d be enough. Two lovers that could only truly be together in death, didn’t matter that Julie had two moms, didn’t matter that Julie was straight. She could make up some other excuse. It’d look good for her legacy at least, if she survived then she’d still have something interesting to write her memoir about.

She looked down at the pathetic, sobbing, mess in front of her. She gave a slight shrug at her hostage’s expression as if to say “At least you’re not dead, right?”

Julie tried to emulate the grin that Jodie had given to her what felt like years ago -Not that she was keeping track of course- before haphazardly stabbing Jodie a few times and hoping that’d be enough blood loss or whatever.

She was bored by this point and wanted it all to be over so she could move on and focus on the important things, like her future. She opened the nearest window and jumped, awaiting the sweet embrace of death to come the second she hit the ground.

Julie only felt the sharp pain of her body colliding with the dirt below.

Nothing else happened, that was it.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Wicked Games  -  Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Summary: Everyone in the world has a soulmate. And until they meet that soulmate, everyone in the world stops aging at 25. Wrongfully accused of a horrendous crime and on the run, you happen to bump into the man who’s been avoiding you for the past seventy-five years.

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Injuries (Minor), Confrontation???

Word Count: 3.5K

A/n: THE GEOGRAPHY OF BROOKLYN AND ALL SURROUNDING AREAS HAS BEEN CHANGED FOR THIS STORY!!! Bucky centric chapter kinda. Idk I like it.

MASTERLIST Previous Part

Recap:

You run away from the store with a few other people then take a hard right down a back lane, leaning against a building and trying to catch your breath. You shove off of the building after another moment and run deeper into the older part of town where many buildings are either abandoned or worth millions.

As you’re running you hear a sound that makes your stomach drop.

It gets closer and closer, far louder and scarier than the sirens.

They’ve let the dogs loose on you.

~*~

You don’t think you’ve ever ran this much in your life. 

Your legs aren’t hurting anymore, they’re numb. Your lungs have seemed to stop begging for oxygen and are making do with what little they’re getting. Your head is spinning and you feel like if you don’t stop soon you’ll pass out.

Pushing yourself farther, you come across the same little forested area that brought you to this town.

Not giving it a second thought, you run between the trees, looking desperately for somewhere to hide.

“She’s in the woods! Have units on the other side waiting! We cannot let her escape!” You shiver at that voice and run deeper, head snapping up as you hear something rather promising. 

The bubbling of a water body.

You follow the sound, growing anxious as you hear the dogs barking approaching. You reach the water and hesitate for a moment, glancing over your shoulder. 

As you see all the German Shepherds running towards you, you jump into the little river, surprised at how deep it is. You swim as fast as you can, breaking the surface and gasping for breath as one of the dogs jumps in after you. 

It’s teeth latch onto your right calf and you scream, water getting into your mouth and choking you.

You desperately try to kick it off, but it’s teeth stay stuck in your leg.

“We’ve got her!” A different man shouts. You begin apologizing to the dog in your head, then lift your other foot and kick it as hard as you can. It yelps and falls off of you, whimpering as it swims back to the shoreline. 

You pull yourself up on the other side and take a step, gasping as fiery pain licks up your entire right side. 

Leg giving out, you tumble to the ground, cursing and moaning in pain. Your eyes flash open as you see the dogs back in the water, swimming across quickly, the cops not too far behind. 

Gritting your teeth, you shove the pain away and force yourself to your feet, limp-running through the trees as fast as you can. 

As the barking and yelling starts up again, your adrenaline stops the pain from being as severe. You find your way into a grassy area, and a quick look around lets you know that this is someone’s backyard. 

You’re back in the fucking town.

Moving swiftly, you make your way through the streets, realizing you’re in the old neighbourhood where not many people live.

A large, nice-looking house catches your eye and you bit your bottom lip, an idea striking you. 

You peel off your soaked sweater and carefully take off your shoes, setting a trap. As you move up the street, you drop one shoe then throw the other through the window of an abandoned, run down house. 

Limping as fast as you can to the nice house, you tear off a piece of your shirt and stick it to a board on the abandoned house, dropping your sweater outside of it.

You move fast to the nice house, eventually making it there. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the back as you hear the dogs and cops down the street. 

Testing each and every window leading to the basement of the house, you almost cry as a window slides open silently. 

Being as careful, quick, and quiet as you can be, you climb through the window, your feet landing on the hard concrete floor of an unfinished basement.

Your right leg gives out for a second time and you bite back a sob at the pain, struggling to your feet to close the window.

You crawl through the basement, searching desperately for a first-aid kit. Just as you’re about to give up and bleed out all over some stranger’s basement, the familiar Red Cross looks down at you from upon a high shelving unit. 

It takes everything you have not to scream as you pull yourself to your feet to grab the kit, but once it’s safely in your grasp you collapse onto the floor again, only a few feet away from the furnace. 

Carefully, so very carefully, you peel the fabric of your pants away from your leg, whimpering with every brush against your wound. 

It’s dark in the basement, thankfully, because if there’d been light... you doubt you’d be able to stay conscious. 

Below your right knee is soaked. And not with the cold water of the river. It’s warm and sticky to the touch.

You take a shaky breath in and open the first aid kit. The bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide is heavy in your hands, and you dread using it. So much so that you think you’d rather let your leg get infected.

Pulling up your shirt, you stuff a wad of the fabric in your mouth while tipping the open bottle over your leg. 

Your leg spasms and you scream a little, tears streaming down your cheeks at the newfound pain of the wound being cleaned.

You use half the bottle, just to be safe, then start tightly wrapping your entire calf with gauze, using an ace bandage after the gauze has run out.

With the tightness of the gauze and bandages around your leg, the fiery pain has been reduced to a dull ache, an ache that you can certainly live with.

You pull your arms to your chest and let out a shaky breath, trying to control your emotions as you think about how the Hell you’re going to escape someone’s house without getting caught.

~*~

“Again?! We lost her again?! How the fuck does she keep getting away?!” Bucky snarls, slamming his fists down on his desk.

“Calm down, Buck!” Steve’s commanding voice yells, shoving his friend’s shoulder. 

“She’s smart. Clearly she knows what she’s doing, or at least has an idea of what she’s doing. There’s only so many abandoned buildings on your street. Your house is the only inhabited one, and I doubt she’d be stupid enough to go there anyway. You can keep your eyes open in a way that the rest of us can’t. We’re setting up a perimeter as we speak and a team is searching the woods.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, the metal plates in his arm whirring softly as he tries to calm the fuck down.

“Steve, we were so fucking close. How, how does she keep getting away?” Steve sighs and sits on the brunet’s desk. 

“I don’t know. But I do know that there’s definitely a lot more to this case than we know. I looked into her family and her history. She’s basically an orphan at this point. Her mother and father both died in a car accident. Her older brother is working for NASA and hasn’t spoken to or about his little sister since their parents died five years ago. (Y/n) graduated from high school two years early with honours and got scholarships to basically any Ivy League schools. She had a hard time deciding but eventually chose to go to Princeton.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows at that. He figured you were smart, but not Ivy League smart.

“She was interested in Civil and Environmental Engineering, Evolutionary Biology, Sociology, and Soulmate Studies. Spent nearly a decade learning at Princeton, got 2 Ph.D’s and is on her way to her third.”

Bucky’s silent for a moment as he processes this. “So... Doctor (Y/l/n), huh? And no connections to anyone? Not even a best friend?”

Steve scratches the nape of his neck and sighs. “I talked to some of her co-workers. They all had generally the same story.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Bucky asks impatiently. 

“That Rumlow was against her having friends. They all essentially said that whenever he came in and saw her talking to any of her coworkers he’d have a fit. Some say she’d come to work the next day and have a hard time lifting things or would appear to be in pain when she moved.”

They’re both quiet. 

“So he was beating her, you think?” Steve shrugs, then sighs. “It would make sense as to why she called the cops. But I can’t confirm nor deny anything till we have her statement, which we will get.”

“So let’s try to create a hypothetical situation here,” Bucky begins, pacing the soundproof room slowly.

“Rumlow’s been beating (Y/n) for... their whole relationship. One day she snaps? Gets fed up and fights back harder than either of them thought?” Steve purses his lips. “Maybe Brock took it too far. I mean, any abuse is too much abuse, but what if it went beyond that? What if he wanted to do more than just hurt her.” 

Bucky freezes and turns to Steve. “You think... you think he tried to kill her? Why? Why would he even do that? They’ve been together for how many years?”

Steve sighs, “Three and a half. But I mean, maybe he was going off the rails a bit. Closer to the end there he was getting a little more antsy.”

“I think you’re grasping at straws here, Steve. When you get her statement then you can decide whose side you’re on, but until then she’s still a murderer. And she still needs to be brought in, no matter what may have happened.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “I realize that, I just don’t want to rule out the idea that it was self-defence.” Bucky nods, plopping down in the desk chair. “I’m not ruling out anything. Hell, I can’t rule out anything cause I’ve got nothing but fucking ideas to go off of.”

“But ideas are better than nothing. And we don’t have nothing. We have what her coworkers told us. We have the pictures of the crime scene. We have the autopsy, and we have... general knowledge of where (Y/n) is. I say we grab some coffees, grab the pictures of the crime scene and come up with a few plausible scenarios.”

Bucky feels his lips twitch upwards at the suggestion. 

“If you’re trying to bring back old memories to put me in a better mood... fuck you cause it’s working.” The two share a laugh and Steve stands up, shaking his arms out. 

“I’ll be back with the pictures and the coffee. You clear your desk of anything not related to this case. And maybe order a pizza or something. I have a feeling we’re gonna be here for a little while.” Bucky looks at his watch then nods. 

19:47 

“Yeah, You’re right. But I start working evenings tomorrow, so I’m going home to sleep no later than four, alright?” The captain salutes his friend then leaves the room to gather the supplies. 

Bucky orders the pizza then clears off his desk as Steve asked, trying to get himself into the correct mindset.

~

The crime scene photos are... interesting to say the least.

"The whole apartment is trashed. Like they were fighting in different rooms,” Steve notes around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza.

Bucky inspects the pictures carefully, the one from the bedroom holding his attention.

“Okay, give me a story for this one,” he says while pushing the picture in front of Steve.

“Well... blood on the bed... could be her period?” Bucky scrunches up his nose, not liking that possibility. “I’m no expert, but I don’t think women bleed that much.” He has a point, the white bed is soaked in bright red blood, much more than could be from menstruation. 

“Okay.... One of them is asleep on the bed and the other comes at them with a knife? Hits them but they don’t die. So person one with the knife picks up the pillow and tries to suffocate person two. Person two finds the knife, grabs it, and stabs person one somewhere then runs out of the room.” Steve points to the trail of blood leading out of the bedroom and Bucky nods.

“Person one follows person two out of the room and person two throws a vase at them. Person one tries to stab person two again with a shard of the vase but person two...” Steve trails off, trying to picture what could’ve gone on in the living room of the apartment. 

“Most of the vase shards are by the doorway to the bedroom except for one. And it’s bloody. So person two must’ve been stabbed a second time unless person two grabbed the shard and stabbed person one. Fuck, where are all those papers with the DNA tests? If we know whose blood is on which items it’ll be a shit ton easier to figure this out.” 

“Last I heard Pierce had the papers, and he wasn’t letting them go,” Steve informs. Bucky curses under his breath and takes another sip of his coffee. 

“Is he here tonight?” Steve’s eyes widen as he realizes what Bucky’s gonna try to do. 

“He’s working all week. Next Monday though he starts a four-day weekend. Has his granddaughters dance recital. So then it’ll be safe to get what you want.” Bucky groans and throws his empty coffee cup at the wall, frowning as the paper cup bounces to the floor.

“We could have things to go off of, but instead we’re stuck guessing. But that’s fine, it doesn’t matter. Back to business. I’m gonna read over the autopsy again and I’ll tell you what I hypothesized happened.”

Bucky picks up the document and starts reading thoroughly.

‘MANNER OF DEATH: Homicide.

CAUSE OF DEATH: Exsanguination due to multiple stab wounds. (trunk and lower extremities)

FINDINGS: 1. Generalized pallor and evidence of exsanguination. 2. Multiple stab and incised wounds of trunk, lower extremities with one (1) stab wound penetrating right back into chest cavity; two (2) stab wounds penetrating right thigh; and another single (1) stab wound at lateral right chest penetrating into right lung. 3. A few other minor blunt-force injuries of head and trunk.

LABORATORY RESULTS:

TOXICOLOGY:

1. Blood: a. Ethanol: 0.16 gm%. b. Drugs: Cocaine present at less than 0.1 ug/ml; cocaethylene present at 0.2 ug/ml; quantity not sufficient for further examination. Lysergic Acid present at 1296 ug/ml. Further examination required.

2. Urine: Positive for cocaine, cocaine metabolite (ecgonine methyl ester), and cocaethylene, with negative EMIT barbiturates screen.

3. Ocular fluid: Ethanol, 0.16 gm%.

Bucky puts the paper down and rubs his eyes for a moment. 

“Rumlow was on drugs?”

Steve looks up at that then snatches the papers away from Bucky, skimming over the words then raising his eyebrows. 

“Shit. He was. And not a small amount either, it seems. What the Hell... he didn’t do LSD... this is some other drug with Lysergic Acid. It has to be. But what the fuck drug would he be on? Especially when he had work that day.”

The two sit in silence, a bad feeling washing over them. “Was she ever involved in any Chemistry? Would she have been trying to develop a new drug and tested it on him?” Steve shakes his head, picking up a different file, one with your picture on the front of it.

“Nothing besides high school chemistry and a few labs for Biology. She never would’ve worked with this stuff.” Bucky groans deeply then picks up the autopsy again. “It says here that one of the stab wounds on his leg was one inch wide and half an inch deep. The knife we found at the apartment was two inches wide and six inches long. So I’m gonna guess that she stabbed him with a shard of the vase.”

Steve nods at that and sighs. “Well, what else?”

Bucky tosses the autopsy onto the desk and puts his face in his hands.

“Person one stabs person two in the bedroom. Person two stabs person one back. Person one tries to suffocate person two but person two gets away and throws the vase at person one. Person one grabs a shard and attacks person two. They fight physically for a while until one of them eventually gets stabbed twice in the chest, thus killing them.” Steve nibbles his bottom lip for a moment then shakes his head. “This would be so much easier if we knew what her injuries were... are. Because she couldn’t have possible escaped unscathed. Hell, I’m kinda surprised she escaped at all.” Bucky nods, grabbing another piece of pizza and starting to read a different paper, hoping it’ll give him any evidence he needs to move further with this case.

~

Bucky heads home at three, having a hard time keeping his eyes open after over 36 hours of non-stop working. 

He unlocks the door to his house and pushes inside, closing and locking the door behind himself then walking to the couch. He plops down and closes his eyes, tempted to fall asleep in his uniform right then and there.

Slowly he opens his eyes, something about his home not feeling right. 

Taking a deep breath, he furrows his brows. 

It smells like chemicals. 

Instinctively he grabs his gun, switching off the safety and moving silently around the main floor of his house. 

His heart is beating quickly in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

He moves to search the second floor, eyes alert and looking for anything that may be out of place. Every single room he searches is empty and the exact same as he left if before leaving for work whichever day he left.

That leaves only the basement.

~*~

A door squeaking wakes you from your light sleep and you open your eyes, fear filling you as you hear someone take slow steps down the stairs. 

Pushing yourself to your feet, you move as far away from the stairs as you can get, finding yourself cornered by a locked window.

It takes you a moment to work up the courage to try the lock and when you do, you thank your lucky stars.

It slides silently out of place, the window pushing out with a soft ‘pop’. You bounce a few times to gain momentum and right as you’re about to jump, a booming voice shouts at you.

“Hey! Get the fuck down from there, raise your arms above your head!” 

The voice makes you shiver and you slowly raise your arms, head falling down in defeat.

“Turn around slowly. Keep your hands up.” You do as he demands, your right leg burning. 

“Lift your head up.” You reluctantly do so, your breath leaving you as you see the man.

You focus on his gun for a moment then move to his face, hating him immediately.

He’s absolutely gorgeous. Deep, enticing icy blue eyes; a jaw carved by Michelangelo himself, which is covered in a scruffy beard; brown hair falling out of a man bun and framing his perfect face.

Fuck this attractive man for pointing a gun at your chest. Fuck him for looking like a fucking Adonis while wearing a godforsaken police uniform. Fuck yourself for choosing his house to hide in.

You can’t think of anything else, your world blurring and spinning due to anxiety and blood loss. You drop your arms despite his words and try to steady yourself. It’s no use, however, because in an instant you’re falling to the ground and the world is going black.

~*~

Bucky stares in shock as you lie unmoving on the ground, your chest moving steadily but your eyes closed.

He puts his gun away against his better judgement and pushes your hair out of your face, staring at you for a few more moments.

You’re absolutely breathtaking. So much more beautiful than the pictures he’s seen. And you're right here. The last, biggest piece of this puzzle is in his basement. 

But for some dumb reason, he doesn’t want to turn you in just yet. A selfish part of him wants to hear your side of things before he brings you to the station where you’ll be questioned and treated like garbage. As far as the majority of the station is concerned, you’re a coldhearted killer. Your fate is sealed there.

He slaps your face twice lightly, looking for any kind of twitch. When he doesn’t see any he scoops you up in his arms and walks upstairs. He puts you into the bathtub and cuffs your hands behind your back, his eyes finding the wound on your calf. 

He reaches for it instinctively, wanting to make it better, then rips his hand back. He stares at his own hands in shock and disgust before getting up and walking out of the bathroom, locking the door on the way out.

He heads upstairs and closes and locks his door, desperate for a shower and a chance to clear his mind.

Kicking off his boots, pants, and utility belt, he starts calming down a bit. Making sure to lock his gun away and bringing the key into the bathroom with him. 

He turns the water on hot and lets it run for a few moments, undressing all the way then stepping under the water and letting it soothe his muscles. A soft groan leaves his mouth, and he can’t help but think about you. 

His mind conjures up the image of you, shirt clinging to your body after your swim earlier, showcasing curves that weren’t documented in any file. He hisses at himself and shakes his head hard, trying to shake the thoughts of you away.

He finishes his shower quickly, feeling more relaxed than he would’ve thought, and gets changed into some sweats and a tight black t-shirt. He lies down on the bed and takes a deep breath, body and mind ready for at least a few hours of sleep before he goes and deals with the stressful issue in the bathroom.

The problem that seems to be occupying his thoughts in a way he really didn't think was possible.

~*~

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[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Chapter Ten:

The One With Sleep-Deprived Orphans

After dinner, Violet and her siblings bid the Quagmires goodbye as the Quagmires bid the three rather unfortunate orphans good luck. Violet led her siblings to the athletic field. All three children’s hearts were in their chests. Violet was mentally preparing herself to fight Olaf and his lackeys if they were to try anything. Klaus was cautiously looking around the three siblings as they walked, the silhouette of Olaf getting closer and closer to them with every step. Sunny had her teeth bared, ready to fight if she needed to.

“I see you’re on time tonight, orphans,” Coach Genghis said smiling.

“Again, you said ‘after dinner’...” Klaus explained cautiously. “Since there is no specified time we can not be late or on time,”

Genghis rolled his eyes at the orphan boy. “Less talking, more running,” he barked as he blew his whistle. “You are going to run laps just like yesterday,” he blew his whistle again. The three siblings looked at one another miserably.

“All night?” Violet asked annoyed.

Genghis shrugged. “Maybe…”

“But…” Klaus interjected.

Genghis blew his whistle again as Violet motioned for her siblings to start running ahead of her. Sunny and Klaus groaned in annoyance as they both started running. Violet took a second to glare at Genghis.

He blew his whistle at her. She stood her ground.

“Get moving, orphan,” He barked at her.

“...you will pay for what you’ve done. That’s a promise I intend to keep,” she replied as she began to run after her siblings.

As the three ran, they would occasionally take turns looking around the athletic field for any sign of either Quagmire, wondering if the Quagmires were able to sneak out of Nero’s atrocious concert and was now watching them in case Olaf put his actual plan to a start. The children ran lap after lap after lap just like the night before. All three felt like their legs were going to give in on them.

Klaus eventually broke the silence. “What if…” he said, out of breath, “he plans to torture us until we just hand over the fortune?”

“Depriving someone of sleep is a form of torture,” Violet commented.

“Tired,” Sunny commented as she began to slow down, she picked up her pace the second Genghis noticed that she had stopped running.

He blew his whistle at the children. “You just bought yourselves another hour,” he said laughing.

Sunny growled at the man angrily, she turned to her siblings, “Sorry,” she muttered.

Violet and Klaus looked at Sunny. “It’s okay, Sunshine,” Klaus insisted.

“He was going to keep making us run either way. He’s just trying to make you feel guilty,” Violet pointed out.

“Look, if giving him the fortune means I don’t have to run anymore,” Klaus whined. “I’m so close to signing it over,”

Violet gave a small chuckle at that. “We can do this,” she told them. Although, both younger orphans could tell that she, too, was just as tired and exhausted as they were. She could try her best to hide it, but it was written all over her face.

The silence between the siblings continued for several more laps until Violet eventually couldn’t take the silence anymore. “I know we should reserve our energy for running,” she began. “But...I can’t take the mundane silence anymore,”

“Same here,” Klaus sighed as Sunny nodded her head in agreement. “What do you want to talk about?”

Violet smiled at her younger siblings, “Maybe...we can spend this time to get to know each other,” she said. “You guys can go first if you’d like,”

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another. “You want to know how we got here, first?” Klaus asked.

Violet nodded her head slowly. “Pyro,” Sunny started, which meant, “Well it all began when our parents sent us to Briny Beach and then we met Mr. Poe there and he told us our parents had perished in a terrible fire,” Klaus quickly translated for Sunny.

“We were then sent to live with…” Klaus began, breathing heavily. “.,..with…”

“Count Olaf,” Violet guessed.

“Yeah, him,” Klaus admitted. “He...he was the absolute worse,”

“Pelzer!” Sunny explained, which meant, “He was horribly abusive towards us but especially Klaus,”

Klaus frowned as he hesitantly translated for Sunny. Violet gave her brother a small frown.

“He...he had this insane idea to run us over with a train. I had overheard him so I explained to him that his logic was illogical because if we were to die then he’d get nothing…” Klaus said. “The next day...he kidnapped Sunny and…”

“Avem,” Sunny interjected, which meant, “He stuffed me in a fucking birdcage. During this time that I was separated from Klaus...he did something to Klaus...but I still don’t know what because Klaus won’t tell me,”

Klaus looked to the ground as he translated only half of what Sunny had said. Sunny glared at him. “Organorum!” she yelled at him, despite being tired. This was Sunny’s way of saying, “Don’t leave out the part about how he traumatized you,”

Klaus looked from Sunny to Violet. “I...I foolishly tried to rescue her...and I was…” he closed his eyes, shook his head. “I was...for lack of better word...punished for my rescue attempt,” he wiped a few tears from his eyes.

“How?” Violet asked.

“I...I would rather not talk about it,” Klaus admitted. “Just...know...whatever he did, I’m still not over it,”

“Obvi,” Sunny commented, which meant, “Obviously,”

“A social worker...came to the house and he tried to help us…but to no avail,” Klaus explained trying to move past that specific topic. “Eventually, someone called the police but Olaf escaped after warning us he’d be back,”

“Monty!” Sunny added, which meant, “We were then sent to live with Uncle Monty. He was so sweet. He was a herpetologist, he was unfortunately murdered by Count Olaf while he was disguised as Stephano,”

Klaus translated for Sunny. “Monty...was the first time after our parents’ untimely death where we felt...happy and safe. But Olaf ruined that,”

“Kronk!” Sunny chimed in, which meant, “Then some guy named Kronk, who claimed he was working for the Herpetological Society but we later found out he was lying, had come to help us. He helped us prove to Mr. Poe that Olaf was Stephano in disguise,”

Klaus translated for his sister before adding, “Olaf escaped again and Kronk had disappeared. We were then sent to live with our Aunt Josephine, who was better than Olaf but not a very good guardian. She had fallen for Olaf’s disguise hook, line, and sinker. He had forced her to write a will instructing we were to be left in his care. He had almost won if it weren’t for Sunny’s brilliant idea to eat peppermints, which we are allergic to,”

“I’m allergic to peppermint, too,” Violet mentioned. “We have something in common,”

Klaus and Sunny smiled. “You get that from Mother,” Klaus explained.

“I know, my father told me,”

“Storm,” Sunny added, which meant, “Then we had to survive a storm...which is a lot more difficult than you’d believe,” Klaus translated as he laughed.

“Then Sunny had the crazy idea of stealing a sailboat and sailing across a leech-infested lake amid fucking hurricane but before we could, a ferry operator named Steve Barkin had offered us a ride. It was...weird. He had life jackets and raincoats prepared like he knew he’d need them,” Klaus explained.

Violet looked down at the ground, sighing. “Did...you ever see Kronk’s face?” she asked curiously.

“No, he wore a bee-keepers mask,” Klaus explained. “Which is still very odd,”

“What did he sound like?”

“He had a deep voice. It’s weird, he had the voice of someone who you would think was cruel and scary but he was kind and helpful,”

“What about Steve?”

Klaus thought about it for a second. “Same,”

“Did...you ever see Steve’s face?” Violet asked.

“Yeah,” Klaus said, “Why?”

“Do you have the pictures on you?”

“Yeah,”

“Take them out, will you?” Violet asked as Klaus slid his hand in his pocket and took out one of the photos. She pointed at her father, who stood at the far end of the picture. “Did he resemble him?”

Klaus’ eyes widened for a second. “yeah...I mean he didn’t look completely like this...it’s like he was,”

“Wearing a disguise?” Violet interrupted.

“Olaf,” Sunny mentioned, which meant, “Like Olaf?”

“Wait… so...your father was...helping us the whole time not just at Lucky Smells?” Klaus asked, his heart sinking in his chest. He felt guilty. He felt like Violet’s misfortune was his and Sunny’s fault, but mainly his. If he was able to handle his own, then Violet’s father would have never needed to get involved and she could still be safe and happy.

“What happened after that?” Violet asked curiously.

“Immergo,” Sunny continued, which meant, “Well after we survived the hurricane, we had found Aunt Josephine’s hiding spot through figuring out codes,”

Once Klaus had said the word ‘codes’ as he translated for Sunny. Violet’s heart stopped. She turned to her brother, “You know how to code?”

“Huh?”

“Do you...did they…” Violet was trying to figure out how she should word her question.

“Who’s they?” he asked confused.

“Who taught you how to code?”

“No one,” Klaus explained. “It was fairly simple,”

Violet slowly nodded. “Then?”

“We found her, convinced her to come back with us. Our boat started sinking cause her dumb ass ate a banana and didn’t tell us. We thought Steve...I mean...your father was coming back to rescue us but it turned out to be that fucker,” Klaus said pointing at Olaf. “He threw her to the leeches, but not after she tried to bargain our lives for hers,”

“Wow, I already don’t like her,” Violet said angrily.

“We managed to convince Poe of his disguise and we were sent to Lucky Smells,” Klaus said. “But I don’t remember much of that... because I had been hypnotized,”

Violet frowned as both older orphans looked down at Sunny. “Recap,” Sunny said, which meant, “My turn to tell the story,”

Sunny explained in great detail the two younger orphans’ adventure in Lucky Smells. From being forced to work for gum and coupons, to Klaus being tripped by the Hook Handed Man and being taken to the optometrist. Sunny described how she felt waiting that entire day for her brother to return, how she had spent the rest of the day with Phil or Charles. Even detailing how she made it to Charles’ library and finding the page with their father’s handwriting. She explained how devastated she had felt when Klaus finally arrived back but it seemed to her as though he was dead. She told Violet about how Klaus had nearly killed her, not on his own accord, of course. Which when Klaus heard this, he glared daggers at the Coach who sat on the bleachers picking his teeth. Sunny detailed how Klaus’ eyes had changed back to their normal color so she knew that he was back but was terrified when he had to go to the optometrist again. She then described the scene where the children realized just where Olaf had been hiding the entire time during their stay there and how Klaus was so blind, he was spinning in circles trying to find Olaf. This made Violet chuckle at her younger brother.

“Cookies,” Sunny explained, which meant, “Then when he was trying to scare me by telling me what he was going to do to Klaus, I got off the couch and began to threaten him. He was so scared of me that he threw cookies at me and ran into the room that Klaus was being held in,”

“We are definitely related,” Violet commented. Sunny smiled up at her big sister.

“Bite,” Sunny explained, which meant, “He traumatized Klaus so I traumatized him. He freaks out like a little bitch when I try to bite him,”

Klaus and Violet laughed at this. Sunny waited for them to stop giggling for her to finish her story about their stay in Paltryville. She explained how she had tried to open the door to rescue Klaus but she was too short but during her attempt, she had overheard Orwell use the secret word.

“Inor,” she explained to Violet.

“She means ‘inordinate’,” Klaus explained.

“Ooh, that is a big word...no wonder it was difficult for you to say it,”

“Zombie,” Sunny continued, which meant, “So then Orwell and Olaf tried to make a hypnotized Klaus kill Charles in hopes of getting us back into Olaf’s custody,”

She opened her mouth and pointed at her teeth. “Hook,” she explained, which meant, “This is when I had sword fought a grown woman with my bare teeth,”

Both Klaus and Violet could not believe their ears as Sunny continued to explain. She detailed how she had nearly lost the swordfight and she would have been murdered if it weren’t for ‘Sir’ arriving.

Sunny looked up at Violet, who looked down at her. “Hero,” she said, which meant, “Your father is a hero...he figured out the word to unhypnotize Klaus and save me from Orwell,”

As Klaus translated for Sunny, Violet felt a tear in her eye.

“Sunny’s right,” Klaus yawned. “Your father is a hero...if it weren’t for him…”

“I know,” Violet replied quickly. “Don’t...don’t finish that sentence...I can’t imagine losing you before ever meeting you,” she said quietly.

“And...well...Olaf escaped and we ended up here,” Klaus finished.

“That’s...a lot of sadness and woe,”

“Yeah,” Sunny said sadly. “Just us,”

“It was just us…” Klaus explained turning to Violet as the three children ran another lap. “It was just Sunny and I...but now…”

“Just us…” Sunny said holding out three fingers, “.,.three,”

Violet smiled at that as she noticed that the rays of sun rising, she was thankful. She and her siblings could get a little rest before school and work. Finally, Genghis blew his whistle. “You may go to your shack!” he barked.

The day that followed was vastly similar to the day prior except the children were even more tired from running laps rather than sleeping for the second night in a row. The three were still very confused as to what Olaf’s plan was. Like the night prior, nothing happened. All he had them do was run laps...that is it. But unlike the day prior, the children were too tired to use any brainpower to think of a way for Olaf to get their fortunes by forcing them to run laps all night.

Violet was unable to pay attention to any of Remora’s stories, she was even dozing off a couple of times. Isadora would notice that Violet’s head had dropped in her arms, and she’d wait until she knew for a fact that Remora wasn’t paying the two girls any attention before waking up Violet, who would barely open her eyes but gave Isadora a grateful smile.

Klaus was also unable to even hold the ruler in his hand. Each time that he and Duncan would pass Duncan’s ruler, he would accidentally drop it. Duncan understood why Klaus was this way and didn’t mind picking the ruler up each time it fell to the ground. Klaus had tried to pick it up a few times, but he would become imbalanced, nearly falling to the ground. Duncan had to catch him quickly before Klaus plummeted to the ground. Carmelita would snicker each time Klaus dropped the boys’ shared ruler, but Klaus was too tired to care.

Sunny was unable to do any of her secretarial duties, she was unable to keep her eyes open. She was extremely irritable that every time that Nero yelled at her, she would yell back not caring about the consequences. When Nero had asked her why she was slacking, she refused to answer him because she knew that he wouldn’t care or understand her and she didn’t have the energy or patience to even try.

By lunchtime, the three children awaited to discuss the previous evening with the Quagmire triplets, who weren’t as sore and not nearly as tired as they were. One reason was that they had been hiding behind the bleachers, spying on Genghis and their friends, instead of running laps all night. The other reason was that the Quagmires had done their spying in shifts. After their friends had run the first few laps and there was no sign of them stopping, the two triplets had decided to alternate between Duncan spying and Isadora sleeping and Isadora spying with Duncan sleeping. The two siblings had promised each other that they would wake up the sleeping one if the spying one noticed anything unusual.

“I had the last shift,” Duncan explained, “So my sister didn’t see the end of S.O.R.E but it doesn’t matter. All that happened was that Coach Fuckface finally let you stop running laps and let you go back to the shack.”

Klaus slowly nodded as he and Sunny were leaning up against Duncan and Violet was leaning up against Isadora. Duncan and Isadora looked at one another giving their friends a saddened look. “What?” Violet yawned.

“Don’t look now but…” Duncan began.

“Carmelita is coming this way,” Isadora finished.

“No...no...no…” Klaus whined hitting his fist on the table. “I want sleep...I need sleep,”

“Maybe...she’s just coming over to tease us?” Violet asked hopefully.

“Guess what, cake sniffers!” Carmelita yelled.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Violet snapped. “Can’t you see our baby sister is sleeping?”

Sunny had taken the opportunity to use her brother and his boyfriend as a makeshift bed. “I don’t give a fuck what the cake sniffing baby is doing,” Carmelita said. “Coach Genghis wanted me to give you another message.”

“Let me guess,” Duncan replied. “He wants them to meet him after dinner at the athletics field,”

“Yep!” Carmelita replied. “Now where’s my tip,”

“No tip today,”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Duncan gave us the message, technically. Not you,” Isadora explained.

“You cake sniffers owe me three tips!” she yelled.

“Get out of here before you get a hair full of spaghetti,” Violet warned.

Carmelita glared at Violet. “Fine,” she said as she noticed Duncan’s book bag on the table. Before the two awake orphans could stop her, she pushed it on to the ground with all her might. The bookbag fell to the ground with a loud thud! Which woke Sunny up. Sunny, being a toddler and being sleep deprived began to throw a fit by crying.

“Don’t cry like your cry baby brother,” Carmelita teased Sunny.

Klaus and Duncan glared at Carmelita as Sunny continued to cry. “Sleep!” she yelled desperately.

“Too-da-loo, cake-sniffing orphans,” Carmelita said as she twirled and tried to walk away.

Violet looked to Sunny, who was still crying and waving her tiny fists around. Violet stood up slamming her hands on the table. “ That’s it! Spats! ” she yelled. “You want to make a baby cry!” She stood up quickly and took a few steps towards Carmelita, who turned around to face the angry older sister.

Isadora sat back to watch the scene that would have followed. “Isa,” Duncan called out. “Stop her,”

“No, this is going to be funny,”

“Isa,” Duncan cried. “I would but I’m trying to calm down, Sunny.”

Isadora sighed as she stood up and grabbed Violet’s hand. Violet was stomping her feet to the bratty little girl, who looked both intimidated and regretful.

Violet stopped as she felt Isadora’s hand slip into hers. “Vi, just...let it goes,” Isadora said half-heartedly. “She’s not worth it,”

Violet looked to Isadora and then at Carmelita and back at Sunny, who was still crying. She released Isadora’s hand and stepped closer to Carmelita. “Let me make myself abundantly clear, Spats,” she hissed as she pointed a tired finger at the bully. “If you make either one of my siblings cry ever again, I will make you regret it. I promise you that.  Do you understand me!? And trust me when I say, I keep my promises.”

She waited for Carmelita to slowly nod her head before getting out of the girl’s face. She turned around and put her hand back into Isadora’s as the two older orphaned girls walked back to their lunch table.

As they sat back down, they noticed the boys were successful in getting Sunny to go back to sleep. “So what are we going to do about Genghis?” Duncan asked.

“I can’t do this again. Not a third night,” Klaus begged.

“My legs are almost too sore to walk, let alone run,” violet agreed.

“Maybe he’s putting his real plan into action tonight. In any case, we’ll sneak out of the recital again...and keep an eye out for you,” Isadora suggested keeping her hand within Violet’s as Violet leaned against her again.

“In shifts,” Duncan added, nodding in agreement as Klaus leaned his head on Duncan’s shoulder. “Isadora and I will keep using our free time to investigate and research. Maybe we can figure out his plan,”

“Thank you,” Klaus yawned. “We are so very thankful for all your help. If we’re lucky, all of us working together can defeat Olaf once and for all,”

And it is at this time that I feel the need to remind you that Klaus and his sisters were not lucky, they were extremely unlucky. They wanted to be lucky, but they were not. The three siblings did not want to be extremely lucky...they just wanted to be lucky enough. They wanted to be lucky enough to figure out how to escape Coach Genghis’ clutches, and it seemed that being lucky would be their only chance. Violet was too tired to invent anything, Klaus was too tired to read anything and Sunny, even though she was lucky enough to be small enough to fit in the comfort of someone else’s lap, was too tired to bite anything or anybody. It seemed that even with the diligence of the Quagmire triplets, they needed to be lucky if they wanted to stay alive. And as Violet huddled against Isadora and Klaus and Sunny huddled against Duncan as if the cafeteria of Prufrock Prep was extremely cold, wincing in soreness and worry. It seemed to the three orphaned siblings that they wanted to be lucky more than they had in their entire lives.

Occasionally, events in one’s life become clearer through the prism of experience, a phrase that means that things do tend to become clearer as time goes on. Coach Genghis’ dreadful S.O.R.E program, however, was one event that didn’t seem to get any clearer at all through Violet, Klaus, and Sunny’s prism of experience.  If anything, it grew even harder and harder to understand, because Violet, Klaus, and Sunny had become so utterly exhausted as the days and the nights wore on. After the children had received their third message from Carmelita, they spent the rest of the day in anticipation wondering whether or not that night would have been the night Olaf put his true plan to action. Even the Quagmires wondered what Genghis had planned that evening, so everyone was surprised when all Genghis had done was order the children to run laps. All five orphans imagined that he would have something far more sinister planned than more laps. But while the third evening of running laps might have lacked in sinisterity, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were too exhausted to notice. They could scarcely hear the shrieks of Genghis’ whistle and his cries of “Keep running!” and “Another lap!” as they tried to focus on getting to know each other. The children realized after the second night that when they spoke to each other, it made time feel as if it was flying by them faster, so even though the three of them were so exhausted, they tried to continue their conversation. With each passing night, their conversation was slower and less enthusiastic but during the hours of S.O.R.E, Violet was able to tell Klaus and Sunny a lot about her life growing up with her father. Sharing fun stories about him, discussing her likes and dislikes. On the fifth night of S.O.R.E, Klaus had asked Violet what she was up to when her father was investigating them, with a little tweaking of her story, she managed to tell a summarized version of events. She left out details about VFD, considering them unimportant at the time. She did discuss how she had met the Quagmires before Prufrock and even boasted about how obvious it was that both Isadora and her brother, Quigley seemed to have developed a crush on her the day they met. During these brief, slow, but impactful conversations, Violet had learned that Klaus had read more books than she could ever imagine. He explained to her that his memory when he was able to get sleep, was near photographic. He even info dumped, even if it was slowly, about a few of his favorite books to her. On the sixth night of S.O.R.E, Klaus was asked by Violet to describe the house that they had lived in and he did. He had to keep closing his eyes to picture it as if it were a memory that was being consumed by smoke of a fire. He told both his sisters stories of his youth as an ‘only’ child, making sure to not distinctly mention that he was an only child until he was eleven to spare Violet’s feelings. Sunny, with the delayed help of Klaus, spent the eighth night of S.O.R.E trying to help Violet understand Sunny better. Sunny also told stories about her parents that she could remember and even told Violet about Klaus’ bedtime routine of reading to her until she fell asleep. She even boasted about how Klaus was teaching her to read and talk before the fire, which was one reason why she was able to say actual words at such a young age. She, with Klaus’ help, explained how their mother and father would be so happy when Sunny learned a new word. Sunny, finally remembering that she had learned a new word during their stay at Paltryville explained to both her siblings how she learned the word ‘fire’ by herself. Although both her siblings were beyond tired, they were also beyond proud.

The children spent as much time as they could during S.O.R.E getting to know each other, trying their best to stay awake and keep running. Every morning when S.O.R.E was over, Violet and Klaus would take turns taking small half-hour naps before class. They had both fallen asleep on the fourth morning of S.O.R.E and decided to ultimately ditch lunch because they both refused to have their hands tied behind their backs. The Quagmires were nice enough to sneak them some food as they hid in the Orphan Shack during all meals. When the Quagmires had arrived with food and the fifth message from Carmelita Spats who said her message was from Genghis, the children felt like they were going to lose their minds, though. After the tenth night, Violet and Klaus couldn’t take it anymore and they longed for the weekend. They wished that Prufrock believed in weekends because both were too tired to take or pick up Sunny from work, so that job was now on the Quagmires, who didn’t mind at all. Every morning, one of the Quagmires would knock on the door of the Orphan Shack, where Sunny would crawl out, desperate to keep sleeping. The triplet would then carry her to work as the other arrived ten minutes later to make sure Violet and Klaus were awake in time to get to class and then whoever took Sunny to work that day would also pick her up from work where they would find Sunny trying to spare herself five minutes of sleep on the ground in front of the administrative office.

But every day went the same. Coach Genghis would allow them to report back to the Orphan Shack only allowing them a little under an hour to rest before school would begin. Either Isadora or Duncan would take Sunny to work, while the other would arrive a few minutes later to help the older two orphans to class. The Quagmires would also grab their friends' lunch. It got so bad that Violet no longer wanted to carry her backpack so Isadora had offered to carry it for her. Klaus’ notes became so unorganized and messy that Duncan had offered him his satchel to share, which Klaus accepted the offer. Carmelita would then deliver another message during lunch, and it got to the point where the children stopped trying to figure out Olaf’s plan because they knew, by now, what he had in store for them the following nights. More laps. Carmelita would then demand another tip and a rather tired Violet, would continue to summarize children’s books as tips and when she couldn’t think of one, Duncan would help her out. The first few days after Violet had scared Carmelita went by easier than the ones that followed. As Carmelita noticed that Violet could barely stand up and keep her eyes open, she went back to hounding all five orphans, no longer afraid of Violet. Then after dinner, when night fell, the three children would walk miserably to Genghis in the athletic field (as the Quagmires would sneak out of Nero’s recitals to make sure, yet again, that all Olaf was doing was making their friends run laps).

By the thirteenth night, Klaus couldn’t take it anymore. He craved sleep. His body had given in and he fell to the ground desperate to sleep. This angered Genghis, who threatened to kick Klaus if he didn’t get up. Violet warned him that since he is their teacher, he couldn’t physically harm any of them as she tried her best to pick her brother up. Genghis had rolled his eyes and blew his whistle directly in Klaus’ ears to wake him up.

All three children grew so sweaty that they had nearly decided to give up all of their inheritance in exchange for a long shower, two days worth of uninterrupted sleep, and to never see Olaf again. And their legs grew so sore that the children forgot what it felt like to have legs that didn’t act from thigh to toe.

Lap after lap, night after night the children ran as Olaf sat his lazy ass on the bleachers, laughing and blowing his obnoxious whistle. It got to the point where the three children stopped all communication with each other during S.O.R.E hours, desperately trying to keep their eyes on the luminous paint that still glowed brightly on the darkened lawn. All three desperate to preserve whatever energy they had left. As each silent evening went on, the luminous circle was all they could really see, and it imprinted itself into their eyes so they could see it even when they were staring desperately at the darkness.  If you’ve ever had a flash photograph taken, and the blob of the flash has stayed in your view for a few moments afterward, then you know exactly what I am talking about. But the glowing circle that stayed in the minds of Violet and her siblings stayed so long that it became...symbolic, in a way. To the children, it felt like the glowing circle stood for more than merely a track and what it stood for was zero. The luminous zero glowed in their minds, and it was symbolic of their situation. They knew zero about what Genghis was truly up to. They knew zero about why they were running endless laps every night. And they had zero energy to think about it.

Each night for what seemed like an eternity, Coach Genghis would dismiss his orphan track team and I shudder to tell you that...each morning, when Violet, Klaus, and Sunny desperately hoped for it to be their last groggy day...that it was not their last groggy day. The dreadful Carmelita continued to deliver them messages from the dastardly coach. The children would spend their mornings dozing off in their classes and at their job. And with each message, the three siblings would put their heads on the lunch table and whine and groan in utter defeat. The Quagmires would try to comfort them but to no avail. The five orphans hadn’t had a true conversation in a while, because the three orphans were too tired to talk even to their closest friends. The Quagmires understood completely and did not find their silence rude or discouraging.

I know it seems impossible to believe that the three orphans managed to survive all these nights of S.O.R.E but you’d be surprised, in times of extreme stress one can often find energy hidden in even the most exhausted areas of your body. I had discovered this myself one night when I realized I had to escape the clutches of cult-like organization and I was chased nearly sixteen miles by a few unhappy volunteers who refused to allow me to defect from their organization. And the three children discovered this as they ran laps each night for those thirteen nights.

As Violet and Klaus suffered, their schoolwork suffered and as Sunny suffered, her performance at work suffered as well. As I’m sure you know, a good night’s sleep helps you perform well in school or work, and so if you are a student or employee you should always get a good night’s sleep unless you have come to the best part of your book, of course, and then you should stay up all night and let your responsibilities at school or work fall by the wayside. In the nearly two weeks that followed, the three siblings were much more exhausted than somebody who stayed up all night reading, Klaus Baudelaire could tell you that himself, seeing as he has done both. But their performance at work and school fell way off the wayside.

For Violet, it meant that she was so drowsy that she did not write a single word of Mr. Remora’s stories:

Violet sat in her seat, her head thrown back. Soft snores could be heard. Isadora tried and tried to wake her up but Violet’s eyes refused to open.

“Pop quiz!” Remora shouted. “Everybody grab a piece of paper and write down everything you can remember about the time I spilled soup on my sweater, including the vegetables in the soup, the washing instructions on the sweater, and the number of geese on the farm where my in-laws opened their bed and breakfast,”

Isadora looked worriedly at Violet, who continued to sleep. Not hearing Remora at all. Not realizing that she was sleeping through yet another test.

For Klaus, it meant that he was so weary that he didn’t measure a single one of Mrs. Bass’ objects even when Duncan placed the ruler on his desk.

Duncan resorted to poking Klaus with the ruler in hopes of waking him up, but Klaus had his head thrown back, his mouth a tad open as he drooled. Carmelita was taking the opportunity to stick some sticky notes on him as he slept. Duncan glared at her as he pulled the sticky notes off of Klaus. I, of course, don’t know what kind of dreams Klaus Baudelaire was having during his naps in Mrs. Bass’ class but I believe it is safe to bet that if he wasn’t bothered by Duncan trying to purposely wake him and Carmelita sticking sticky notes on him, it didn’t matter what kind of dream was plaguing him, he was not waking up.

“Pop quiz!” Mrs. Bass shouted. “Question one. What is the circumference of yesterday’s pomegranate? Question two. What are the dimensions of the vault at Mulctuary Money Management?” Question three. How far apart in decimeters are the security cameras? I need you to really pay attention to these numbers, and give me exactly what I’m asking for.”

Duncan frowned as Klaus only shifted a bit in his sleep. Blissfully unaware of the pop quiz that Mrs. Bass was giving the class.

For Sunny, it meant that she was so exhausted that she didn’t do anything Vice Principal Nero had assigned for her to do. He wanted her to type out more of his insane ramblings, create her own staples, and put a large stack of files away. But Sunny had sat down at her tiny typewriter, and fell asleep instantly on the keyboard, her head pressing down on the keys.

So as Nero dictated, “‘Dear Mr. Mozart, I have now written you six times and I can not think of a possible reason why you've not replied. Perhaps you’re afraid of a little competition?” Nero mused, unaware that his young, overly exhausted toddler secretary was softly snoring and slightly moving her mouth as if she were biting something in her sleep. “If I’m not mistaken,” he continued. “You’re written only forty-one symphonies...I’ve written over four thousand. I’m writing one right now, it’s titled, ‘Why Won’t You Write Me Back?’”

Sunny continued snoring, unaware that her head was still pressing down on the keys of the typewriter. Unaware of all the tasks that Nero had assigned for her in the twelve days prior.

The children believed that doing well in school was extremely important, even if they had been homeschooled by their parents and even if their new school happened to be run by a tyrannical idiot, but they were simply too fatigued from their nightly laps to give a shit about their classes and job. Before long, the circle of luminous paint was not the only zero the three saw. Violet saw a zero at the top of her paper when she was unable to recall any of Mr. Remora’s stories for a test. Klaus saw a zero in Mrs. Bass’ grade book when he was called on to report the exact length of a tube sock he was supposed to be measuring and was discovered to be taking a nap instead. And Sunny saw a zero when she checked the staple drawer and saw that there were zero staples inside, remembering that instead of making her own staples, she had ignored Nero and snuck away to take a nap where he couldn’t find her.

“You seem to be on your last leg,” Duncan commented.

“I haven’t been this exhausted since I stayed up all night with my first Tesla coil,” Violet whined as she placed her head on the lunch table. She gripped Isadora’s hand tightly.

“At least you guys haven’t been late to class, well besides that one time,” Isadora pointed out.

“I’ve  never flunked a test before, but I got every measurement wrong…” Klaus said miserably.

“Of course you flunked,” Duncan said softly putting an arm around Klaus’ shoulders. “Olaf has been making you run laps every night,”

“And we’re no closer to figuring out his scheme,” Klaus whined.

“It’s like that luminous circle he made us paint is a giant fucking zero,” Violet complained. “And we still know nothing about it,”

“Maybe he is hoping you’ll be so sick of running, you will hand over your inheritances?” Duncan guessed.

“He’s had stranger plans,” Klaus muttered.

“Honestly, I’m starting to think that may be his plan, too,” Violet admitted. “It’s been what...two weeks?...he hasn’t tried to kidnap us, yet,”

Sunny lifted her head. “Staples,” she said softly, which meant, “Oh, I forgot...I need to make staples in my free time…”

“This is getting fucking ridiculous,” Isadora replied. “Look at you, Sunny. It was inappropriate to hire you as an administrative assistant in the first place, and it’s simply absurd that Coach Fuckface is having your run laps by night and now Nero wants you to make your own staples by day?”

“Don’t call my sister absurd or ridiculous!” Klaus snapped.

“Our…” Violet corrected in weak protest. She didn’t have the energy to care about Klaus’ common mistake.

Isadora looked back at Klaus crossly. “I”m not calling her ridiculous!” she snapped back. “I’m calling the situation ridiculous!”

“‘Ridiculous’ means you want to laugh at it,” Klaus explained, who was apparently never too tired to correctly define words. “I don't know about you but I don’t see the humor in this fucking situation! I don’t need nor do I want you laughing at us!”

“I”m not laughing at you,” Isadora countered. “I’m trying to help.”

“Some help you are!” Klaus snapped. “Some help all of you are!”

“Klaus…” Duncan began.

“Your sister laughing at us doesn’t help at all!” Klaus yelled at Duncan.

“Yelling at my brother isn’t helping at all either, asshole!” Isadora yelled at Klaus.

“Calling me names doesn’t help either, bitch!” Klaus snapped back.

“Okay! Okay!” Violet snapped. “Both of you stop! I am too fucking tired to deal with your guys’ fucking bullshit!”

“Shut up!” Sunny snapped, lifting her head from Violet’s lap to growl at Violet and the other’s who were keeping her awake.

“Everyone…” Duncan said calmly. “Stop yelling. Isadora, can’t you see that Klaus is just...really tired? And Klaus, can’t you see that Isadora is just frustrated?”

Klaus and Isadora glared at each other before they both looked back at Duncan. Klaus gave Duncan a small smile. “I’m too tired to see anything, honestly,” he said before turning to Isadora. “Isa, I’m sorry. Being tired makes me crabby. In a few more days I may turn as nasty as Carmelita,”

Isadora gave a small chuckle. “I’m sorry, too. I get nasty when I’m angry sometimes,” Isadora claimed. “You’ll never be as nasty as Carmelita Spats, no matter what.”

“Where?!” Violet asked, lifting her head from her tray. She had dozed off through Klaus and Isadora’s apologies but woken up at the sound of the Special Messenger's name. “Please...tell me she isn’t coming here again to tell us to do more laps, is she?”

“I’m afraid she is,” Duncan said ruefully.

“Speak of the Devil,” Isadora commented.

“Oh, fuck no….not another night. I can’t do fourteen nights,” Violet whined.

“I think I’m going to cry,” Klaus whined.

“Hide?” Sunny suggested as she lifted her head.

“Sunny’s right,” Klaus said frantically.

“Where would we hide?” Duncan asked watching Carmelita begin to smirk as she got closer to their table.

“The one place she’d never go,” Isadora suggested.

“The library,” Klaus replied. But it was too late.

“Cake-sniffers talking about a library,” she teased. “Is there anything less adorable?”

Violet sighed angrily. “Go away Carmelita,”

“We’re not in the mood,” Klaus warned.

“But I’m here to deliver two messages today. Meaning you owe me two tips,” she said.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Klaus said annoyed. “You haven’t gotten a tip for the last thirteen days, and I see no reason to break that tradition,”

“That’s because you’re a stupid orphan,” she replied back. “In any case, message number one is the usual: meet Coach Genghis at the athletic field after dinner,”

Violet gave an exhausted groan. “And the second message?” she asked.

Without prompting or warning, Carmelita began to sing her response. “Vice Principal Nero wants to see you right away because he’s very mad at you today. I’m the cutest girl in school and my name is Carmelita!”

“Still doesn’t rhyme,” Isadora remarked.

“Cake-sniffers are all jealous of me! Because I’m C-U-T-T-E. Dancing and singing is my thing and my name is Carmelita!” she sang angrily.

“None of this rhymes! Songs have to rhyme,” Isadora explained.

“There’s twelve more verses,” Carmelita informed.

Klaus threw down his fork in pure anger. “ We get the fucking message! ” he barked at Carmelita. Carmelita stuck her tongue out at Klaus.

“Wait?” Violet asked. “Why is he mad at us?”

“I’m sorry,” Carmelita replied with a nasty smile to indicate that she was definitely not sorry. “I don’t answer questions from nontipping orphan cake-sniffers.” With that, she began to chant “Cake-sniffing orphans in the orphan shack!” and neighboring tables chanted along with her.

“We’d better go to Nero’s,” Violet replied sighing as she slowly got to her aching feet, volunteering to carry Sunny. “We’ll see you later,” she said to the Quagmires.

“Nonsense,” Isadora said standing up, taking Sunny from Violet. “We’ll walk with you. Carmelita made me lose my appetite, anyway. We’ll walk you to the administrative building, and wait outside for you so we can still have two pairs of silverware for dinner.”

I wonder what Nero wants,” Klaus muttered as Duncan helped him to his feet.

“Maybe...he’s discovered that Genghis is really Olaf...all by himself?” Isadora suggested. Klaus and Sunny silently looked at one another, highly doubting this but both of them still offered their friend a kind smile. They appreciated their friend’s hopefulness. The five children handed their scarcely eaten lunches the cafeteria works, who blinked at them silently from behind their metal masks. Once they reached the administrative building, Duncan and Isadora wish their friends luck as Violet, Klaus, and Sunny trudged up the steps to Nero’s office.

[rainbow-sides]

A Snake in the Grass: Chapter Two

Summary: Spare Prince Roman, fifth in line for the throne, goes to fight the evil Dragon Witch to protect his kingdom and get revenge for the people she has killed, along with his squire Patton. Patton is kidnapped by the Dragon Witch and presumed dead, and Roman is badly injured, his life only barely saved by the palace healer, Logan. When they find Patton alive several weeks later, seemingly half-dead and having been tortured, they bring him home, only to find that he isn’t quite acting like himself…

Pairings: eventual romantic Logince, ambiguous Moxiety

Word Count: 3,614

Warnings: Description of injuries (mildly graphic, might be a little gross), pain, violence, assumed death of a friend (no actual major character death), mention of severely neglectful parenting, guilt, grief, swearing, imprisonment, physical torture (mostly implied), implied touch starvation, psychological torture, nightmares (about hurting a friend, character death in the dream), blood, emotional manipulation, abusive friendship. This story contains villain!Deceit.

Notes: Oh jeez, the warnings for this fic are hard to figure out. I think I got everything that needs tagging, but as always, let me know if I should add something else. This story is just a lot of hurt and a fair amount of comfort, but like, mostly hurt at this point. <3 ~Martin

Masterpost

Roman regretted forgetting to lock his door. Logan had walked right in without even knocking, an exasperated expression on his face. “You were supposed to be in the infirmary an hour ago.”

“Yeah, so?” muttered Roman. He rolled onto his side to turn his back on Logan, letting out a groan of pain.

“So,” Logan said emphatically. “I cannot do my job if you insist upon being uncooperative and ridiculous.”

“Oh, go away.”

“I am not going away.”

“Well, I’m not going to cooperate, so shove off.” When a hand touched his shoulder, Roman flinched and slapped it away. “Don’t touch me!”

“I have to touch you, I’m here to take care of your wound. You may be a Prince, and fifth in line for the throne, but you are also my patient,” Logan said. He took some of his supplies out of his bag and began setting them on the long wooden table next to Roman’s bed. “Believe me, I would rather not be here, either.”

“Then why not just leave?”

Logan didn’t even dignify him with a response. “Turn onto your back, Roman.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult?!”

“I just want to be left alone!” Roman exclaimed.

“If that was true, you would cooperate, and then I could leave sooner. But clearly, you don’t want to be left alone, you just want someone towards whom to direct your anger. And in that, I won’t indulge you.”

“If you’ve got it all figured out, why bother asking me anything?” Roman snarked.

“Perhaps because I am still holding out hope that you will be reasonable for once in your life. I can see that you are upset--”

“You’re damn right--”

“--but it has been two weeks since your fever broke, and I fail to see why you won’t move on.”

Roman sat up sharply, ignoring the fierce prickle of pain across his chest. “Losing Patton--it was my fault, Logan!”

“Yes, it was,” Logan replied. “If you had not brought him with you on your foolish mission, he would still be alive.”

“Exactly!” Roman shouted. “Exactly.” He shook his head. “Exactly. So just leave.”

“I can’t leave.”

“Then I--then I will!” Roman started to stand up, intending to run out the door. After two steps, his legs gave out underneath him and he collapsed onto the rug with a whimper. He struggled to get back up, needing to escape, to get away, to be alone.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Logan sighed. He walked past Roman towards the door and opened it. Roman felt an unwanted pang of disappointment--maybe he didn’t want Logan to leave. But Logan just called down the hallway, “Virgil, I need your help after all.”

Roman doubled over, hiding his face in his arms and digging his fingers into his shoulders. Virgil would make it worse--he didn’t mean to, of course. But seeing him reminded Roman of what he had done, and what they had lost, and even though Virgil refused to be angry at him, he was angry at himself. A gentle hand rested on his back. “Go away,” he said roughly.

“No.” Virgil put his arms around Roman’s waist and hauled him to his feet, bringing him back to the bed and making him sit down. “Stop taking it out on Logan. You want to yell at someone, yell at me.”

“You didn’t do anything,” muttered Roman.

“Neither did Logan,” Virgil shot back.

“Well, I’d look pretty fucking stupid shouting at myself, wouldn’t I?” Roman snapped. Hot, angry tears sprang to his eyes.

“I don’t know, yelling into a mirror can be pretty cathartic. You can try it, after you let Logan replace your bandage.” Virgil finally pushed him down so he was laying on his back. It didn’t take much strength on his part, and Roman couldn’t sit back up after he was down. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Roman glared. He hated feeling so weak. The other day, he had tried to pick up his sword and couldn’t even lift it fully off the ground. Logan still wasn’t sure if there would be any permanent damage. When Virgil lifted his head up and slid over to cradle it in his lap, Roman closed his eyes. “Why don’t you just hate me?” he whispered. “It would be easier.”

“I’m too tired,” Virgil said lightly. He stroked down the length of Roman’s arm as Logan took off the bandage. It stung. Virgil winced and looked away from the gash, which had mostly closed but was still mottled deep purple and green because of the tissue damage from the venom. Just a bit of blood and some yellow fluid was smeared on the inside of the bandage. Virgil made a sound of discomfort. He was squeamish around blood and injuries. “Hating you would take energy I don’t have,” he added, still averting his eyes. “Deal with it.”

“That’s fine.” Roman bit his lip in pain and tasted blood. “I can--hate myself enough, for the both of us,” he groaned.

“That’s the spirit.”

Logan had some sort of dark green salve in a jar. “This is going to hurt,” he said bluntly. “But it could help repair the tissue damage.”

Roman nodded resignedly. “I can’t run away even if I try, we’ve established that.”

“Quite.” Logan spread a small amount of the salve onto the wound. It burned immediately, and Roman arched his back, twisting away involuntarily. “Stay still, please,” Logan requested.

“That’s easier said than done!” spat Roman.

Virgil looped his arms under Roman’s and held him steady. “Hey, I've got you. I've got you.”

“Like that fucking helps!”

“Okay, fair, fair. C’mon, Ro, breathe. You can get through this.”

“Part of me would rather not,” Roman grumbled.

“Too fucking bad, you don't have a choice, ‘cause we're not letting you go,” Virgil said harshly. “Okay? You don't have a choice.”

Roman bit down on the inside of his cheek as more of the salve was rubbed into the gash. The salty taste of blood filled his mouth.

“Stop, stop doing that.” Virgil touched his cheek and then took his hand. “You'll regret it later. Hold my damn hand instead. Break it if you need to."

“It should stop stinging as badly in a few minutes,” Logan told him.

Practically crushing Virgil’s hand, Roman managed to calm down slightly. He was adjusting to the new level of pain--it still hurt like hell, but he didn't feel the need to scream or cry anymore.

Logan put the new bandage on him. “And now I can leave. See, Roman, it really does take less time if you just cooperate from the start.”

“He knows, Logan,” Virgil said. “He's just angry.”

“Fuck off,” Roman muttered, but there was no bite behind his words.

“Uh-huh, sure, Ro.” Virgil kept hold of his hand, and Roman made no move to let go either.

Logan finished packing up his supplies and left. “Roman, you will either come to me tomorrow before noon or I will come here and I will not be happy about it. Virgil, if you could stay with him for a while to make sure he isn't just indulging in self-loathing, I would appreciate it.”

“Sure. I'm staying,” Virgil told Roman. “Don't argue with me.”

Roman closed his eyes and didn’t answer as Logan left and closed the door behind him. After a few minutes of silence, he mumbled, “I’m not going to him tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t want to leave your room, huh? Don’t want the world to see how weak you are right now. It’s okay, I’ll talk to him.” Virgil ran his fingers over Roman’s hair. “He won’t understand, but I’ll make him accept it.”

“Oh, god, Virgil...why? Why are you still trying to help me?”

“I told you, I’m too tired to hate you.”

“I wish everyone would just leave me alone,” Roman whispered. “Why won’t everyone just leave me alone?” The ache in his chest wasn’t just because of his wound. It was deeper than that, cutting right into his heart.

“You don’t really wish that, though. It’s a lonely thing, being completely alone. Take it from someone whose father hated him so much that he kept him in nearly total isolation until he was twelve and old enough to run away.”

Roman blinked. Virgil didn’t usually talk about that. Everyone knew it, of course. It had been a huge scandal thirteen years ago, when a strange young boy had been found wandering the wilderness and it was discovered that he was the son of an unmarried nobleman, born out of wedlock to a young servant girl who died in childbirth. The nobleman was the Queen’s third cousin, and the boy had been brought to the palace out of pity. Roman remembered how cruel he had been to Virgil. He had only been ten at the time himself, and had quickly learned to be kinder. Still, he wondered why Virgil had ever forgiven him. He wondered now how Virgil could forgive him again, after what he had done to Patton.

“So, you know,” Virgil said when Roman didn’t reply. “I’m not gonna leave you all by yourself. Especially ‘cause it’s not like I have anyone else, either, now.”

Oh, so that’s it. With Patton gone and Logan being particularly stand-offish, Virgil didn’t have anybody else to go to for companionship and comfort. Roman was the only friend he had left. “Sorry,” Roman whispered. “I wish…”

“Ro? You wish what?”

“Should have been me. Should have been me, not Patton. Then you would still have your best friend, and...and he was the only one who could g-get Logan to soften up,” Roman said, his voice breaking.

“Shut up,” Virgil said gruffly. “Ro, shut up.”

But Roman couldn’t stop now. “And he would always sneak some food out of the kitchens to bring to all the villages we rode past, to give to any kids who looked hungry. I’d do it myself now, but...but I can’t even fucking walk, you know, and it wouldn’t be the same anyway ‘cause he knew which kids liked blueberries in their scones and which hated them, and I’d mess it all up, Virge, I’m gonna mess everything up without him. I’ve never been good for anything, and I thought if I could...if I could just bring her down, stop her from hurting anyone else, then maybe I’d be something other than the sparest of the spare princes. A name on the family trees in history books, nothing more. But I’m worse than nothing now, I’m the one who brought Patton to his death, and--”

“Shut up, Roman!” Virgil shouted.

“And I can’t, I can’t be that, Virgil, I can’t--”

“It’s not about you, Roman! It’s--” Virgil was breathing too quickly. “It’s not fucking about you, you arrogant, self-centered, egotistical idiot! You think anyone gives a damn about what the fucking history books are gonna say about you? It’s not like they’re gonna mention the death of a squire, either, or the healer who saved the prince’s life when by all rights he should have died too, or an illegitimate son of a nobleman already wiped so far out of the records that he barely exists now.” The whole time, he didn’t stop stroking Roman’s hair. He didn’t let go of his hand, either.

Roman took a deep, shuddery breath and let it out in a sob. “You’re right,” he said, “always right, always...always right.”

Struggling to speak through his near-hyperventilating, Virgil added, “But just ‘cause y-you’re an idiot, d-doesn’t mean you--you don’t deserve--shouldn’t have been you, sh-shouldn’t have been either of you, R-Roman! W-we shouldn’t h-have had to lose either of you, I--I d-don’t...so d-don’t say...oh, god, no, I can’t even i-imagine l-losing y-you, too, n-now, please, Roman, d-don’t…”

“Virgil? Virgil, breathe!” Roman said, raising his head from where it rested in his friend’s lap to look up and see the glazed look of panic in Virgil’s eyes.

“One--one of m-my n-nightmares already c-came t-true, Roman, I c-couldn’t...and wh-when we w-weren’t s-sure if you’d make it--god, Roman, I d-don’t th-think you understand h-h-how c-close…”

Roman pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the burn in his muscles and the fiery throbbing behind his bandage. He took hold of Virgil’s face and forced him to look him in the eye. “Look at me, look at me, see me, Virgil? I’m still here. I’m still here. Breathe.”

Virgil grabbed his wrists, trying to nod. His hiccupy breathing evened out slightly as Roman pressed their foreheads together.

“Breathe,” Roman said again. “I’m still here. We’ll get through this. I don’t know how, but we will. I promise.”

“I’m s-sorry I yelled at you,” whispered Virgil.

“Oh, I fucking deserved it, honey. Come here.” Roman hugged him gingerly, wincing. Feeling Virgil shake with a sob, he thought screw it, and pulled him tighter. The pain was worth it to feel Virgil relax ever so slightly into the embrace.

“N-never gonna g-get to h-hug him again,” mumbled Virgil. “He w-was so warm, R-Ro, I j-just want him b-back, I l-love him s-s-so much, I just w-want h-him back.”

“Shhh,” Roman breathed, pulling the quilt up out of the disheveled mess of blankets on the bed to tuck around Virgil’s shoulders.

“D-do you think he w-was scared?” Virgil asked as Roman sank down against the pillows, pulling him down as well. He nestled up against Roman’s side, sniffling.

“I…” Roman didn't want to answer that. He brought Virgil closer instead and shushed him quietly. He was probably terrified, he thought silently. But then again, wouldn't anyone be?

Patton was terrified. Curled up in the cage, shivering, his light armor and outerwear long since gone, he tried to keep his breathing quiet and not let out any whimpers of pain or fear. He had lost track of all time in here. He could have been trapped for months or for just a few days. The passage of time was marked not by the rising and setting of the sun, but by when the Dragon Witch and her lackey, known only as Deceit, came to torment him.

In the freezing cave, the only relief Patton could find was when Nathair would come to visit him and light the oil in the lamp. The eery, flickering light was better than being alone with his pain in the darkness, even if all Nathair ever did was plead with him to give in to the Dragon Witch's demand that he join her army.

The now-familiar striking of flint against steel brought a spark of comfort to Patton and he sat up despite the fresh pain of the burns on his side, eager to talk to his friend. Nathair’s face was illuminated by the flame for a second before it died down to a tiny flicker. “Patton,” he greeted.

Almost crying, Patton replied, “Nathair, y-you’re still here.”

“And where else would I be?”

“You didn't come l-last time they left,” Patton said. “I thought…I don't know what I thought, but I m-missed you.” He held his hand out through the bars, knowing better than to expect Nathair to touch him but still holding out hope.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Patton, I got caught up in something else. But how are you?” Nathair looked him up and down. “You don't look very good.”

Patton laughed shakily. “No, I probably don't, huh?”

“I could hear your screams from where I was hiding. Patton, just give in,” Nathair urged.

“No.” His voice was weak but determined. “She can't break me.”

“She's barely gotten started.”

“She won't break me,” insisted Patton. “Because if she breaks me, then she will be able to enter my mind and turn me against my family.”

“Patton--"

“I know, I know.” Patton coughed. “You think they never cared about me. Well, I don't think you're right, but even if you are, I still love them.”

“I don't want to see you suffer any longer.”

“I'd suffer more if I had to watch my family get hurt because of me,” Patton said. “That...that would break me. Not anything the Dragon Witch could do to me.” Patton slid down against the ground, no longer having enough strength to sit up. “I'm sorry you have to hear it, Nathair. I wish I could help you get out of here.”

“Don't waste your energy worrying about me.” Nathair blew out the lantern and his voice rang out in the dark. “Get some rest, then. You never know when she'll come back and what she'll do to you this time.”

Patton closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself to try and keep warm. “Won't you stay with me? Please?” he requested, but Nathair said nothing. He was already gone. Patton sighed.

He tried to imagine that he was somewhere warm and sunny, somewhere that he was safe and happy and with his friends. He imagined Virgil there with him, holding him and telling him that everything was alright. I wonder where he is, and if he's okay, he thought. They all probably think I'm dead. Oh, Virgil…

He fell asleep, then wished he hadn't.

Virgil was screaming. Patton reached out into the darkness, desperately trying to reach his best friend, but he was holding a blade in each hand and they collided with something. The screams got louder.

“No!” Patton shouted. “No, Virgil, I'm sorry! Virgil!” He tried to drop the knives. He couldn't. They seemed attached to his hands.

“Stop hurting me, why are you hurting me?” Virgil sobbed. “I thought you loved me.”

“I'm not! I'm not! I can't--" Patton felt his arms being moved by someone other than himself. Something was controlling his movement. “I'm not trying to!”

Virgil let out a wail. “Patton, please!”

His heart breaking, Patton said, “I'm trying, Virgil, please…” Wake up, he told himself. This is a dream. This can't be real. He didn't wake up.

When Virgil’s screams finally stopped, whatever was controlling Patton let go of him. He dropped the knives immediately. His hands were covered in blood. Rushing forward, he lifted Virgil’s limp, bloodstained body off the ground. There was just enough light to see his face. His eyes were closed.

“Virgil,” Patton whimpered. “Virgil, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, wake up! Please wake up!”

Virgil's eyelashes fluttered. “Get away from me,” he breathed.

Patton let out a sob. “Virgil, it wasn't me, I didn't mean to!”

“Don't touch me!”

“Virgil!”

There was a soft exhale, and Virgil fell still.

“Virgil?” Patton whispered. “Virgil, wake up. Wake...wake up, kiddo, you've got to wake up. Sweetheart? Oh, sweetheart, please wake up.” He cradled Virgil's body close, trying to staunch the bleeding from the innumerable wounds on his skin. “Virgil!”

He wasn't breathing.

“No!” Patton sobbed. “No, no, p-please…” This is a dream, he told himself again. This can't be real.

But if it was a dream, then why wasn't he waking up? Virgil’s body felt solid in his arms, the ground hard beneath him, the air cold. Dreams weren't this vivid, not after they had been found out as dreams.

“Patton?” a horrified voice from behind him cried. “Patton, what have you done?”

“I didn't do it!” Patton said, turning his head to face Logan. “Lo, help him, please, he's hurt! He's not breathing, save--” He was shoved roughly, thrown against the wall as Virgil was pulled out of his lap. Laying there stunned, he watched Logan take Virgil’s wrist and feel for a pulse.

Roman came running up. “Virgil!” he screamed.

“He’s gone, Roman,” Logan said.

Patton pulled his knees up to his chest, crying. “I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I didn’t…” He gasped as he was struck across the face.

“How could you?!” Roman cried. “How could you hurt him?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Patton held one hand against his stinging cheek and reached for Virgil with the other.

“You don’t get to touch him!” Roman raised his sword to Patton’s throat. “I should kill you now.”

“Okay,” Patton whispered. “Okay, I w-won’t stop you.”

The sword pressed harder against his skin, drawing blood. Trembling, Patton closed his eyes.

He woke up sobbing and clawing at his throat. “Too real, too real,” he moaned. “Oh, god…” Then he screamed. Someone’s hand was on his forehead.

“How did I do?” hissed the sibilant voice of Deceit.

“Why don’t you ask him?” replied the Dragon Witch from farther back. Her voice was deep and almost melodious, but icy cold. Just the sound of it sent shivers of terror down his spine.

“Wh-wh-what w-was th-that?” stammered Patton.

“Jusssst a nightmare, my friend,” Deceit replied.

Patton couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. “N-n-no, it w-w-was...f-felt r-r-real…”

A laugh, cruel and far too soft for who it came from. “Would you like more? Our magic can keep you seeing an infinite number of those scenarios, taken directly from your darkest fears.”

“No,” Patton pleaded. “No, please…I th-thought you c-couldn’t see into m-my mind unless I l-let you.”

“Oh, poor Patton,” said Deceit. “Doesn’t underssstand magic, doessss he?”

“Minds cannot be changed without permission, but what we showed you was already there,” explained the Dragon Witch.

“Of coursssse, we can sssstop there, with that little demonsssstration. But you have to give usssss that permisssssion, Patton, or the nightmare will continue.”

Whimpering, Patton tried to curl up and hide. He still couldn’t move.

“Well, what’sssss it going to be?”

“No,” Patton mumbled. “No, never. Never.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to convincccce him otherwissssse?” Deceit said.

“Oh, not long. Not long at all,” answered the Dragon Witch. “Not long at all.”

don’t have the emotional energy to write a good end-note. not having a great time. hope you liked the chapter <3 ~Martin

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