#Last part

[vespidclan]

[MOON 22 PT 2]

NEXT

not one of Icicle’s proudest moments…

[thecranberriesslut]

Californication, Pt. 3

Summary: The last part of my mini 'series', it's your last night of vacation and you've got only one thing on your mind, doing Joel.

Pairing: No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 'Cara'

Wc: 4k

Warnings: Big age gap, but still very much legal, (Joel is 40-something, referred to as 'old man', reader is 18, referred to as 'little girl'), dirty themes, dirty talk, smut.

Notes: Last part of this, enjoy... I wrote this for some closure on the story bc apparently you horny tumblrinas need them to fuck. Jk love you all, more fanfics coming stay tuned.

Suntanned legs, a nose that's a little burnt—just right, so that it looks like you're wearing blush all the time. The smell of nature, heat, and chlorine. You were on your third day of vacation in Palm Springs, California. Everything was right—except for the fact that Joel hadn't spoken to you since your little late-night rendezvous a couple of nights ago. You thought you had finally done it; you'd gotten the man that you had fantasized about every single day since the 7th grade. But no—Joel had left you satisfied, but ultimately, alone.

Palm Springs had still been a blast for you and Sarah. You had tanned, listened to music, explored the area—you even found a couple of cute guys, a few years older than you. But after that night with Joel, you had a gnawing feeling that a boy your age was never going to cut it again. Sure, boys your age could sometimes be sweet, caring, fun… but the thing you had with Joel—it was downright animalistic. The pure desire that had led you to lay down on his bed, pantless, listening to his every instruction like a lost puppy—it was something else. Indescribable urge.

It's not like you didn't try to seduce him. The past three days, you had tried every trick in the book. You'd worn the shortest shorts you owned, dropped things just to bend over to pick them up in front of him, and even pretended to accidentally pour something on your shirt in the kitchen. So, you'd have to take off your shirt and reveal the tiny black bikini top underneath. But regardless of all these borderline pathetic tries, Joel's attitude towards you was more Catholic priest with sworn celibacy than anything else. Although he had had no problem showing off his abs at the pool, asking you to put sunscreen on his back, or walking around the vacation house in nothing but gray sweats that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

You were fed up.

Despite Joel's apathetic attitude towards you, it still felt like a fucked-up game of cat and mouse—to make matters worse, you weren't entirely sure which one you were supposed to be. Tonight was your last night in Palm Springs before you had to go back to your ordinary, boring life. No more casual flirting with Joel. After tonight, he would go back to being your old neighbor and your best friend's father, and eventually, he would just fade out of your life.

But you needed him.

Something inside you had gotten its claws on him, and they were not about to let go. You had a visceral feeling that if you didn't sleep with Joel tonight, you would regret it for the rest of your life. Be it teenage hormones or the Californian heat… but you had made up your mind.

Now, you were lying on one of the tanning beds by the pool. The sun was scorching down on you, making your skin hot to the touch. You could almost feel the sun lightening your hair even more. Sarah was lying right next to you, drinking a coconut water and reading some book you hadn’t bothered to find out about. Your parents had gone to see some old tree somewhere—you couldn’t care less. Joel was swimming laps in the pool. He already looked like he had been sculpted by a Greek god, but here he was, working out on vacation, occasionally splashing water on you two to cool you down.

“Doesn’t it suck that it’s our last day?” Sarah said, her voice whiny. She sipped her drink loudly and looked at you from under her big brown Gucci sunglasses. You threw your head back in agony. Being reminded of your limited time in this paradise brought all your thoughts about Joel bubbling right back to the top of your mind.

“Don’t remind me. Back home, we have school and work to deal with. Here, we only have to worry about our tans,” you said, pretending to cry for dramatic effect.

“I mean, at least you look tanned as fuck,” Sarah pointed out, a big smile on her face. You held your arm up to investigate. It was true—you were very tanned. You could smell the carrot tanning oil on your skin and see the water droplets dripping off, almost sizzling away. You decided to play a little.

“Hey, Joel!” You yelled loud enough for him to hear you over the splashing of the water. Sarah wasn’t even paying attention anymore—she was headfirst in her book. Joel stopped swimming and popped his head up, giving you a confused look.

“Do you think I look tanned?” You asked, feigning innocence. You sat up so he could “see your tan better,” but truthfully—it was your almost-naked body you wanted him to see. Furthermore, you smiled at him, a sheepish smile. He looked at you knowingly, a tiny smirk painting his face.

“I dunno. Why don’t ya’ come closer?” You got up slowly and walked closer to the edge of the pool. Simultaneously, Joel swam closer to you. He stopped right at the edge, only inches from you.

You were about to ask him again about your tan—but you were cut off by his hand grabbing your ankle and pulling you into the pool. You let out a scream-laugh as you were pulled in. His hand covered your entire ankle easily, with a little room to spare. It didn’t take him much force to pull you in. Your body made a big splash as you fell into the pool, and you could feel your tanning oil dissolving into the water.

“Joel! Now I have to reapply my tanning oil!” You screamed at him, not as much angry as in shock. He just laughed a hearty laugh, insinuating that he didn’t care much about your tanning oil at all. You swam to the pool stairs, leaving behind a slight layer of oil on top of the pool water. You splashed water with your feet, aiming at Joel, annoyed at him for getting you wet.

“Look what your dad did!” You playfully yelled at Sarah, who was still preoccupied with her book. She looked up and laughed at your mad face, covered in wet hair. It was at that moment that you heard the similarity in her and Joel's laughs. It sort of freaked you out, but you brushed it off as you went back to lay on the sunbed.

“Will you try not to kill my dad if I go cut up some fruit?” Sarah asked, jokingly.

“Can’t make any promises.” You furrowed your brows at Joel and gave a quick look of approval to Sarah, who left the patio and went into the kitchen with a sense of urgency. The fact that she left worked out perfectly for you—because now it was time for plan two. You changed position so you were lying on your stomach, and you shouted out to Joel.

“Can you put some tanning oil on my back? It’s your fault I need more!” To your surprise, you heard Joel get up from the pool. You heard water dripping quietly onto the stone patio as he made his way closer to you. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his presence looming over you as he reached down for the tanning oil bottle and squeezed some into his hands. Furthermore, you braced for impact as his big, warm hands made contact with your back—they felt like they were supposed to be there. He started out rubbing the oil on your upper back, almost carefully. But after you let out a small moan of approval, his skillful hands began massaging the oil onto your back firmly. It felt like one of those massages at your mom’s spa she took you to sometimes. Except now your masseuse was a hot, strong man instead of that old German lady who usually massaged you.

You felt Joel’s hands leave your back, and you groaned in annoyance.

“Hey, if ya’ want a long massage, it ain’t gon’ be free,” he joked.

“Can I get a happy ending if I give you 2 dollars?” He didn’t answer. He only chuckled slightly and gave your back a friendly tap as he got up and left you all alone at the pool.

So much for that plan.

The rest of the day went by fast, just lying by the pool. You and Sarah had ordered some Taco Bell and watched Love Island, but ultimately, it was quite the chill day with not much on the agenda. You had already gone through the shopping, sightseeing, and other vacation activities, so today, you could all use the downtime.

Now it was 7 p.m., the sun was starting to set slowly behind the mountains, and the smell of sunshine and sweat had transformed into the scent of flowers and smoke from nearby houses grilling. Since it was your last night, you had all decided it would be nice to hold a movie night at the villa. Your parents had made nachos, and Joel had made margaritas for everyone. Now you were all sitting on the couch, looking for a movie to watch. You were sitting between Sarah and Joel, and your parents were sitting on the smaller sofa by themselves.

“Can we not just watch Mean Girls?” You and Sarah whined, which didn’t warrant good reactions from the older crowd.

“We ain’t watchin’ some chick flick,” Joel pitched in, sipping his drink and adjusting himself on the black leather sofa.

“Yeah, girls, we’re watching a classic,” your mom said firmly. She rarely left room for debate.

After a while of scrolling through Netflix, you finally landed on a movie. Joel pressed play after getting a few encouraging nods from the “old people,” who apparently knew everything about cinema.

“Dirty Dancing?” You challenged, nudging Sarah, who didn’t seem to have an opinion about the movie choice.

“Yeah? And what about it?” Joel lifted his eyebrow, challenging you to say anything bad about a classic like Dirty Dancing.

You just moaned. You were so used to getting what you wanted that it annoyed you when it came to movies—your parents thought they knew way more than you or Sarah.

“Joel, shut her up!” Your parents joked. They had gone all in with the “fun parent” act. Joel smiled at them and hooked his hand around your head, pulling you into him in a joking way to stop you from whining.

Everybody laughed when he let you go, but you couldn’t decide what feeling you were going to let take control—anger or arousal. So, you decided to shut up and watch the movie.

The nachos were all gone, all the margaritas had been drunk, Sarah had already gone to bed one hour into the movie, and now it was just you, Joel, and your parents. The comforting glow of the television made you sleepy, and you felt safe next to Joel. At some point, he’d put on a blanket, and at some point, you had crawled under it. You were almost half asleep when the ending credits rolled, and you heard your parents get up.

“Well, we’re going to bed. He’s half asleep, so if we stay down here any longer, I’ll have to carry him up,” your mom pointed out with a hoarse, tired voice.

You all said your goodnight wishes, and the TV started automatically playing some random movie. You looked up at Joel, who was already looking at you, his eyes hooded and his face relaxed. The air felt heavy, a lingering tension left from your previous attempts at flirtation—it felt like he could sense another attempt coming his way. But you were tired of this. He’d made the margaritas too strong, and you felt tipsy. The night felt almost unreal, like the strange timelessness you sometimes feel at the airport, where there’s no sense of time or space—just that one moment, stretching endlessly.

“Ya know, it ain’t like I don’t like ya, Cara,” Joel broke the silence. He sounded almost sorry—about what, you didn’t know.

His hand found its way to your arm, and he began drawing slow, random patterns on your skin, gently. He looked lost in thought, as though he were fighting an inner battle.

“Well, if you like me, you sure do a good job of hiding it,” you replied, trying to sound angry or frustrated. It was hard when your head felt so light, for more reasons than one. You weren’t sure if it was Joel or the tequila making you drunk—maybe both.

Joel laughed, so sure of himself. He adjusted himself so he was facing you, looking right into your eyes. The room was dark, but even then, the light in his eyes was almost blinding. You couldn’t explain the feeling of looking into his eyes, even if you tried. It made you forget about everything—it was hypnotic.

“I think you’re great, sweetheart. But you’re so very young,” he said, his eyes now exuding sympathy above all else.

“I’m not that young,” you countered. Of course, you were aware of the age gap—you knew you were young. But did it really matter when it came to you and Joel? Those moments of looking into each other’s eyes seemed to exceed all time, all age… you were one.

Joel smiled. It was the kind of smile older people give when they think about their childhood, or when your grandma tells you that her cat died but is in a better place. That all-knowing smile that’s supposed to comfort you—but you were a stubborn girl. Since you were small, that’s all you’d ever been told. You knew Joel would give in—or, at least, you hoped he would.

In a small moment, you were on top of Joel. Your lips pressed against his, and your hands rested on his chest—you wanted to hold him down, to keep him that close to you forever. This kiss was different from your first one—it felt real.

After a few breathless seconds, Joel lifted you off him. He didn’t do it harshly; he did it slowly, carefully, as if every movement was calculated.

“Oh, darlin’, just don’t go startin’ something that you can’t finish.”

“Joel—I need you.”

“You don't need me, ya just want me.” Joel pointed out, knowing that it was a lie. He knew that you needed him just as much as he needed you, the pull between you two was more than he had ever felt with anyone. The animalistic urge he had towards you, was nothing short of biological, it was meant to be in every sense of the phrase. It was written in the stars, it was purely physical, it was spiritual— it was all-consuming.

“No, Joel… I need you.” The way you said that, was more than convincing for Joel. Truth be told, it had been torture for him to avoid you these past couple of days. Every single time you pranced around him in the house, or at the pool, he was fighting every instinct in his body that told him to have you. But tonight, there was something in the air that made him weak to his own desires. He snapped.

He pounced on top of you, like a hungry lion, ready to devour its victim— but he didn't want to devour you… he wanted to have you slowly, like a 5-course meal. Not only that, but he wanted to make you wait for it, he wanted to make himself wait for it. If this was the only time you ever did this, he was going to make it feel like eternity.

You breathed out heavily, as his hands found your wrists and held them on either sides of your head. He stared at you, he saw you, every part of you, there… for him. He slowly licked the length of your neck, he wanted to taste you— it felt like hours, but when he got to the bottom of your chin… he began sucking on your neck in a sloppy, uncoordinated manner. He found it hard to control himself.

“Fuck… Joel.” You said in a breathy, low voice. You weren't trying to get him to slow down, or speed up— you just found it impossible to control your body anymore, not to mention the sounds that came out of it.

“Shh— darlin', I'm not gon' be able to control myself if I hear you speak like that again.” Joel stated, his voice low and determined. He sounded dead serious, but you didn't have much time to think about it when Joel continued his sloppy kisses all the way down to your chest, and ripped your button-up shirt open, like you were a meal. He was a man starved. He placed his hand on your neck, gently at first— but as he made his way to your lower stomach in a trail of sloppy kisses, with every inch down, his hand tightened. Your head felt lighter than ever, you were gone, off somewhere else, somewhere that only pleasure existed.

“Say no, honey— please.” Joel pleaded to you, wanting you to help him control his sick desires. He loosened the hand on your neck, and eyed your pants, and then your eyes. He squeezed your thigh, to bring you back from wherever you had gone.

You remained completely silent, this was the only thing in you had been this sure of. To you, there was no other option but to give in to your desires, you mouthed a silent 'please' almost undetectable… but Joel saw it, he heard it— he felt it.

He pulled your pants down with urgency, his hands moved in a sloppy, but strong and self-assured way, there was no question in his mind anymore— there was only you. He lowered himself to your level and his mouth found your lower stomach once again, he left soft kisses on your stomach, but to you, they felt electric. Before you were too far gone again in your own land of pleasure, he brought you back. He bit your thigh, not incredibly hard, but so hard that it left a mark. The contrast between pain and pleasure felt so amazing, you could feel your underwear dripping with arousal. You lifted your head to look at Joel, and he was smiling at you devilishly, eyes dark as night.

He moved onto taking off your pink cotton panties, he took the waistline of the panties into his mouth and pulled them down to your ankles with his teeth. When you tried to kick them off completely, he stopped you, he took them into his hands and brought them up to your hands. You looked at him, confused, but you forgot about it when his lips hit yours and his tongue fought its way into your mouth, like he was trying to prove his dominance. He put the panties around your wrists and bound them together, using the panties as a makeshift rope. After he had bound your wrists, he stopped kissing you. He smirked at you enigmatically, before making his way to your slick folds.

“Now be quiet, if your dad finds out, he will kill me.” He said, half serious, half joking. Before his tongue found your most sensitive spot in seconds. You almost let out a moan, but bit your lower lip to stop it— the way Joel's tongue moved on your clit, you had to bite your lip to the point of drawing blood. It wasn't long before you felt a mind-numbing orgasm wash over you, it almost made you lose your head and forget your own name.

Joel kissed your inner thigh tenderly, before returning to your wrists. He released them from the panties, and grabbed your waist, pulling you up and on top of him. You felt woozy, you weren't sure you knew where you were anymore after that orgasm, you thought Joel would've fucked you senseless, him on top, you on the bottom— but his next words exuded so much confidence, you had no room to argue.

“Use me.” Your mouth widened at his words, it seemed like you were in control… but you could feel Joel dominating the situation, manipulating the dynamics between you. But he had given you your chance, and you were going to take it.

Quickly, you pulled his sweats down, with a sense of utter urgency, you removed his shirt, like it was on fire. You could see sweat, glistening on his stomach and chest, as he patiently waited for your next move. You were almost scared to take off his boxers, you could see his bulge through them, and it looked way too big. You looked into his eyes for further confirmation, he was getting impatient.

“Jus' be a good girl, and take 'em off…” He said, his voice low— the kind of voice you'd use to manipulate someone. You bit your lip and freed him of his boxers. He was huge, and evidently, rock hard. He guided you on top of him, letting you take charge quickly after. You lowered yourself on top of his length slowly, inch by inch. Joel sensed that you were going to let out a sound, so he quickly covered your mouth with his hand, and used his other hand to cover his own mouth. Your confidence only grew, you began pumping your body on top of him, the best you could, despite being in a complete haze of pleasure.

Joel couldn't take it anymore, he grabbed your lower waist with force, and guided your body, pumping on top of him, no concern for the sounds that were almost out of your mouth. You had to stop yourself somehow, so you bit down on his shoulder, hard. He let out a guttural growl, that made your orgasm fast approach. You leaned your head back completely, arching your back as the orgasm came flooding through your entire body like you were struck by lightning. Joel came at the same time, his head rolled back and his Adams apple, glistening with sweat, was so prominent, it looked like it was going to rip out of his neck. He let out a quiet, but animalistic moan— and with that, you stopped moving as you both gathered your breath. The room was spinning, time had stood still, you didn't care anymore— not one bit.

“I love you.”

[carnevol]

John ‘Mouthy’ Egan in every episode | Masters Of The Air part 9

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part5 | part6 | part7 | part8

[nebyneby]

Who still wants Kid Qilby based on his faces in the anime?!!

I never get tired of it

Kid Qilby part 2

[thatlittlefangirl]

"I love you"

Well, that aged like fine wine.

Lucius, on his knee with a grandesque bouquet of flowers, wearing his best suit, his cheeks sprayed with a delicate pink colour, confessing his love to the younger man.

How the tables have turned.

"What?" Severus stuttered out, his eyes wide and cheeks crimson, some things just never change.

Lucius had invited him over for a drink, how could Severus guess it was a date?? How could he have ever thought that he would see his old school crush there, on his knee, confessing attraction?

"Do you still love me?", the blonde man asked with what Severus understood was embarassment and anxiety in his voice.

The answer was yes of course, how could he stop loving him? He was just perfect. Now all he needed to do was getting his jaw off the floor and get himself to say something.

But he couldn't. His mind was blank, empty, he didn't know what to say, what to do.

"If you don't-", Lucius started, his tone heavy with disappointment and shame, but was cut off by a kiss.

"Of course I do! You're a fucking idiot, Malfoy", Severus managed to say before going back to kissing the man, who finally got up on his feet to return the kiss.

There they were, two men in love with nothing to worry except sharing their love for each other through a gentle kiss under the moonlight.

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 13

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, major angst, kidnapping, confined spaces, violence, injuries, drowning, CPR, life-and-death situations, the fluffiest ending (If any of these warnings trigger you, stay away ⚠️🫶)

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: We're here! Last part, babes 😘 Thank you guys so much for sticking with me on this one. I know it was another wild ride, but I appreciated your sweet, insightful, and funny comments throughout 🥹🤍

Ready? Don't forget to breathe 😉

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

“What’s she doing?”

With a mouthful of Donno’s Special of the Day sandwich, Beau came to stand behind a whole group of people who had gathered around a laptop screen propped up on his desk.

He threw another sandwich wrapped in paper on the desk in front of Randy, who sat comfortably in his chair and nodded a ‘thank you.’ Behind him, Jenny leaned casually against the window sill with an intensely knitted brow. Cassie and Denise, on the other hand, had grabbed themselves a set of uncomfortable, worn chairs from the break room and sat on each side of Randy, staring musingly at the screen.

“I think she’s meditating,” Denise put forth.

“No, I think she’s sleeping,” Jenny said dryly.

“I don’t know…” Cassie’s brow furrowed.

Beau frowned as he stepped forward, stealing a glance at the livestream himself. You were still lying perfectly motionless on the long metal table in the middle of the room. They knew you were alive, though. They had watched you crawl up there and lie down. Sometimes, your eyes were open. Sometimes, they were closed for long periods of time.

“She’s still doing what she’s been doing for eight hours now,” Beau huffed. Honestly, he’d be more worried if it wasn’t so damn frustrating.

“Maybe the poor thing’s in shock after everything she’s been through,” Denise suggested sympathetically.

Beau hoped she wasn’t right. Seeing you give up didn’t sit well with him. He couldn’t watch you lie there alone in the cold until there was no air left anymore.

In all honesty, he had a confession to make: He’d never watched a single of Diane’s videos to the end. He knew you’d probably watched them a thousand times, but he couldn’t do it. He had watched parts of it, sure, but never the bitter end. He didn’t know how you'd done it. He always figured you were a lot stronger than him.

But maybe you’d seen something on those videos he didn’t know but had to.

“Y/N?” Randy scoffed at Denise’s proposal with conviction and shook his head. “No, she wouldn’t give up, and I doubt Turner scared her that much. She put a screwdriver in the guy, for crying out loud,” he argued his objection. “No, she’s thinking.”

Beau hated to agree with Randy but hoped to hell he was right.

“Maybe,” Cassie mused and squinted her eyes at the screen. “I think she’s staring at the light above her.”

With narrowed eyes, everyone drew in closer to the screen and observed you.

“I think Cass is right,” Jenny said and retreated to her old position, smirking.

Beau frowned anew and flailed his arms. “Why?”

Fucking Hal Turner.

He got you with a shovel, tied your hands, hauled you back to the cabin and sedated you.

You woke with a few meager slaps across your face before groggily being dragged through the woods at night on unsteady legs. You slipped in and out of consciousness a few times, but you knew Turner wasn’t strong enough to carry you, so he had to keep you awake enough to walk, but sedated enough to not fight back.

You, however, tried to memorize and plan as much as your dazed mind possibly let you. You remembered how long you’d walked from the cabin to the bunker – about thirty minutes. You knew which direction you’d walked as you’d glanced up at the stars – north. And you knew you had hiked slightly up, but not more than twelve degrees. You remembered the faint sounds of a river splashing close by.

Most importantly, you could still feel the screwdriver tucked into your sock in your left boot.

Turner hadn’t frisked you again – big mistake.

As soon as you’d reached the spot of the supposed bunker, you frowned when Turner removed a pile of leaves, moss and dirt from the forest floor and opened the metal hatch that hid underneath.

Oh, hell no…

You weren’t getting in there. If you hadn’t known it before, you surely knew it now.

You would’ve been fine with the cabin because you knew Beau and the department would eventually find it. He’d get a list of their properties and find it. Denise had been in charge of those, and she’d been meticulous.

You would’ve been fine with an above-ground bunker, or even halfway above, too. Once the team would find the cabin, they’d know Turner and you couldn’t have gone far. They’d find the blood and test it, realizing with relief that most of it wasn’t yours. They’d know you’d be in the general area, and Beau would move heaven and earth to find you.

But this thing? They’d never fucking find you here.

Roughly, Turner shoved you down the tight metal stairway, leading to a room you knew only too well from videos. Now, you were here and saw it all for real, like glimpsing behind the scenes of a movie set.

Why couldn’t it have been the Friends set in Hollywood? Instead, you had to visit Diane Newton’s arts and crafts project.

Hal Turner cut your ties – again. And you saw it as your perfect way to escape. Again.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

With your elbows and shoulders, you shoved Turner backwards and bent down, quickly retrieving the screwdriver from your boot. You spun around and thrust it straight into his left carotid artery.

He gasped a breathless sound, his eyes growing wide and white. You let go and stepped back.

You’d never killed someone before – not like this at least.

But then Turner inhaled a deep breath of air – strained, angry, fighting. And you finally understood where the phrase white-hot rage stemmed from.

The roaring Grizzly kicked you right into your bear trap injury. With a painful scream and a searing pain, you fell to your knees and clasped your wound.

He then fled up the stairs like a rat through a sewer cover, tossing the hatch shut behind him. There was the sound of a thick lock before some shuffling followed. At least he couldn’t have done a good job on covering up the entrance. Maybe they’d find you easier this way.

Better yet, you hoped Turner would succumb to his fatal injury not too far from the hatch. If they found his body close by, they could find you too, right?

At least you’d gotten the bastard…

You wanted to scream till your lungs were depleted of all oxygen, but you didn’t have enough air for a breakdown in this bunker. You took one last deep breath to ground yourself and closed your eyes.

Then, you opened them.

The bright neon light flickered above as your eyes darted around the room. The space was sparse, concrete walls peeling in places, as though even the structure was trying to escape. You didn’t want to think too much about how long you would be trapped here.

You already knew this place by heart and what would happen if you didn’t get out.

At the edge of the corner, sat a row of rusty metal lockers. Shuffling over on your good leg, you opened the shrieking door and found that the lockers held various odds and ends – tools, cans, an assortment of chemical bottles with faded labels, and a single, cracked lightbulb resting on its side.

The other victims had received these items as well but never pieced enough of it together to escape. A few drank the chemical bottles for a quicker death out of sheer desperation. While you unfortunately couldn’t solve Diane’s little riddle either, you swore to yourself poison would never be a last resort.

You’d seen those deaths – they had neither been quick nor painless.

You found a first-aid kit as well and lowered yourself to the cold ground, bandaging your ankle. As you tightened the bandage to stop the blood flow, your eyes glanced up the shelves.

Your breath hitched. In the back of your mind, a vague memory from your 7th grade science teacher stirred – something about pressure, something about triggering a chain reaction. You tried to push it away but the thought wouldn’t leave. Maybe an escape was possible after all. There were things you could use – you just needed to figure out how.

The jar of white powder caught your eye. It was too fine to be salt. The label was half-scratched off, but you could make out the word "sulfate." Next to it, a small container of copper wiring lay scattered across the shelf – tiny, thin strands coiled tightly like little snakes, their sharp ends glinting in the harsh neon light.

You pulled at your sleeves nervously, staring at the broken lightbulb once more. If you twisted it carefully, the filament inside would snap. Maybe. Then there was the sharp wire… You let the idea float in your mind for just a moment longer before shaking it off.

And there was that other thing. Something buried deeper in the corner, an oily rag, half-soaked in a pungent smell you couldn’t quite place. You made a mental note. They weren’t much, but they were something.

If you could just piece it all together…

Tiredly, you heaved yourself onto the large metal table in the middle of the room. It was harsh, cold, and uncomfortable, but it was all you had. You lied down on your back and stared at the ceiling, at the flickering neon light above you. Then, you closed your eyes again.

Think, think, think…

For hours, Beau had now stared at the grainy footage, watching your unmoving form. The neon light flickered overhead, casting long shadows against the cold, cement walls of the bunker. His hands were trembling as he gripped the armrests of his chair, his body taut with the weight of helplessness.

The others had left his office a while ago, scrambling to find a way to get you out. There was a search going on, a team of skilled rescuers turning over every stone in the general vicinity of the cabin. Beau knew you couldn’t be far from there. And still, he feared he wouldn’t find you in time.

Truthfully, he knew the only one that could get you out was you. If you just stopped lying there…

Nothing. Not even a twitch. What the hell were you thinking about?

You were alive. He knew you were, reminding himself of that fact on an hourly basis. But for all the good it did, it didn’t matter. The silence on the feed was more suffocating than any sound.

But then…

A subtle movement. A shift in the shadows, so slight that at first, he thought it was just his eyes playing tricks on him.

His heart skipped.

Your fingers twitched, just enough to catch his attention. And then, slowly, agonizingly, you dragged yourself up, struggling to sit. He watched the quiet shuffle of your body across the concrete floor. You were alive. You were still fighting.

“Guys!” his gruff voice called loudly for the cavalry, but he didn’t wait for them to flood into his office.

Beau leaned forward in his chair, holding his breath. His heart hammered in his chest as you lifted your head, your eyes flicking briefly to the camera – aware. You knew he was watching.

Your movements were shaky, too weak for anything swift, but they were purposeful. You scanned the room with desperation. The broken lightbulb in the rusty locker, jagged glass fragments scattered on the shelf, caught your attention.

You reached for it.

Beau’s stomach twisted. No, don’t…

But it was too late. You pressed the sharp edge against the skin of your palm, wincing with the effort as blood began to bead at the surface. His breath hitched, fingers curling into fists at his sides. The blood flowed in slow, steady streams, painting your hand.

You didn’t flinch.

You moved with a practiced precision, grimly intent. With shaky fingers, you scooped some blood on your pointer finger and pressed the pad to the wall, your arm trembling as you began to write.

Seismograph.

Beau’s eyes locked onto the word, his brow furrowing.

Seismograph?

You were so weak. You could barely hold yourself up, and yet, you were still thinking. Still trying. Then you turned to the wall once more, collecting more blood on your finger as you struggled to form the second word.

3 hours.

You stopped then, your body slumping against the wall, too drained to write any more. You didn’t need to. The message was clear.

The feed cut to static for a brief moment, the camera buzzing with distortion, before it returned to the silent, unchanging image of your still form against the wall. But Beau wasn’t looking at you anymore.

His mind raced, blood thundering in his ears. Seismograph. 3 hours.

A tremor ran through him – an earthquake in his chest.

Seismograph. You were giving him a clue. Something seismic. A signal of some kind. His gut twisted. He was supposed to know what it meant.

3 hours. What did that mean? Three hours before something? Three hours after something?

He didn’t have time to analyze it. You were sending him a lifeline. And whatever it meant, he was going to find you.

“What’s going on?” Jenny was the first to thunder into his office, her heart beating fast in her ribcage. She came to stand behind Beau and glanced at the screen, her brow knitting at the crimson words on the concrete wall in the same way his had. “Seismograph. 3 hours,” the blonde read aloud. “What does it mean?”

Cassie stood quietly in the doorframe, listening and thinking. “What is in those lockers?”

“I don’t know. We never found a bunker before, and Diane sure as hell ain’t telling us,” Beau huffed frustratedly.

“But there are chemicals of some kind,” Jenny pointed out, squinting her eyes at the laptop.

“Maybe she’s building a bomb,” Cassie proposed.

Beau pondered the theory for a beat. Then, he nodded. “We already know the area of the bunker. We could probably find her exact location through the tremors.”

“With a seismograph,” Jenny finished the thought. “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t blow herself up first.”

Beau hoped that, too. He didn’t even know you possessed bomb-making skills, but he figured you hadn’t known that fact about yourself either. This was by far not a thoroughly planned undertaking.

“Alright, get a damn seismograph here. I don’t care where you get it or what it costs. We’ve got three hours,” Beau barked his orders with a racing heart.

Your message had just bought him time, and he wasn’t going to waste it. You were still alive. He could still save you. And he wasn’t going to stop until he did.

Your breath came in short, labored gasps as you hunched over the crude metal table in the dark, sterile bunker. The faint hum of the camera feeding into the livestream echoed through the silence, the red light blinking softly as its lens captured your every movement, broadcasting your quiet panic.

You knew Beau was watching. They all probably were. You could almost feel their eyes on you, their silent judgment, their hope that this would work. They’d see the sweat glistening on your brow, the faint tremor in your hands as you worked on your little science fair project.

But it wasn’t fear that made you shake now. It was the cold certainty that time was running out.

You carefully twisted the wire around the small, makeshift device you’d cobbled together from the limited supplies at your disposal. Every movement was deliberate, every breath controlled, even as your mind raced a marathon. You lifted the device to your ear, listening for the faint click as you tightened the final screw. Done.

The one thing they had to get right was the seismic readings.

The bomb was crude – imperfect – but it was all you had. The plan was simple: blow the door open if you could, cause a seismic tremor, and hope the team could triangulate your location. They would track the explosion on the seismograph, find your coordinates, and come for you.

If you were lucky.

Maybe you should leave another message behind for him. In those hours you had lain on the table and pondered, you had thought about your escape. You had also thought about various torturous ways to kill Diane. You had celebrated your little win against Turner. But most of all, you had thought about Beau.

Simple things. The color of his pine green eyes. The smell of his leathery cologne. The sound of his hearty laugh. The warmth of his large hands. Would you ever see, hear, or feel those things again?

A tear streaked your cheek that you swiftly wiped away. Sobbing would cost you too much goddamn air. You couldn’t afford it.

You stole one last glance at the camera, your face a grim mask of resolve. Then you moved quickly, setting the device in place. You looked at the door on top of the steps – solid metal, bolted shut, impossible to open without the right tools.

Tools you didn’t have.

You hurried down the stairs and pushed the metal table onto its side, using it as a shield from the blast as you hunched down low behind it. It had been a little over three hours. It was time. With a sharp breath, you pushed the button of the remote detonator.

The explosion hit like a fist. The sound was deafening, but muffled in the confined space. Your ears rang as the shockwave slammed into you, throwing you back against the cold, unforgiving concrete wall. Your head spun, and for a moment, everything went black.

Then came the tremor.

It rippled through the ground like a violent pulse. The bunker groaned – metal creaking, concrete cracking. The lights flickered and went out, plunging you into near-total darkness, save for the dim emergency glow above the door.

And then, with a deep, bone-rattling crack, something shifted above you.

You scrambled to your feet, disoriented. What the hell was that?

A series of sharp, cracking sounds echoed from the ceiling, followed by a wet, muffled splintering. Your breath caught in your throat as a large root – gnarled and thick as a limb – suddenly pierced through the bunker’s ceiling, splintering the metal and concrete. The roots of a large tree slithered down – a slow, creeping thing – and it didn’t stop. It tore through the ceiling like it had been waiting for this moment, its jagged edges scraping against the walls.

And then – water. Cold, relentless water began pouring in, cascading through the new hole in the roof, spilling across the floor in an uncontrolled flood.

Fuck.

Your heart pounded wildly as you stumbled backward, the water already rising around your ankles, creeping steadily toward your knees. You could hear the steady drip of water splashing against the cold, metal floor, each drop sending a ripple through your chest.

The livestream camera remained on, the blinking red light still steady, but your mind was running a mile a minute – panic rising like a tidal wave. You had no time. You had to move, had to act. But the water was already rising faster than you could think. The air was thick, the walls seemed to be closing in on you, and the roots above groaned ominously as if the earth itself was about to swallow you whole.

You ran toward the door, your boots splashing through the growing puddle. But aside from causing a giant hole in the ceiling, the bomb hadn’t done enough damage to escape. The root’s tendrils were still creeping down from above, twisting around the ceiling. You could hear the scrape of it, its thick fingers reaching into the dark corners of the room.

The sound of the water filled your ears as it surged up around your waist. You stumbled, falling to one knee as the icy liquid engulfed you. Your chest tightened, panic clawing at your throat.

It was too much. The explosion, the quake, the roots, and now the rising water – everything was converging at once. A part of you knew this was it. You wouldn’t get out. They wouldn’t get here in time to save you. But a small flicker of hope was still alive in your heart.

You clutched the camera’s wire, the blinking red light still visible in the murk, as if it was the last lifeline you had left.

“Please,” you breathed, although you knew they couldn’t hear you, but your voice was barely audible over the rush of water anyways. “Please, find me.”

The woods were dense, the trees thick with fog and shadows. Beau ran through the underbrush, his boots pounding against the damp earth, the scent of pine and wet leaves filling his lungs. Sweat stung his green eyes, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he pushed his body beyond its limits. His heart thundered in his chest, not from the exertion, but from the terror building inside him, growing with each passing second.

He’d found it.

The seismograph had done its job. The tremor from the explosion had sent ripples through the earth, and in those ripples, he’d pinpointed the location. There was no time to think, no time to second-guess. He didn’t know how much time you had left, but the second the signal went off and the icy water of a nearby river had wound its way into the confined space, rising like a tide as it flooded the bunker, he’d known it could only be minutes till you took your last breath.

Beau’s mind reeled at the thought.

He stumbled over a fallen log, his eyes never leaving the ground ahead of him. He was so close. It had to be here. He had seconds to make it. He knew it had to be deep. The bunker was buried beneath the forest floor, hidden like a trap, and there was only one way in: a hatch maybe, barely visible among the trees, the earth heavy with moss and years of neglect. He had to get there – now.

He could hear the team searching all around him, crying with calls of your name that echoed through the trees. As he stared up through the tops of the towering pines, he could see the North Star twinkling brightly above him. His heart twinged. His gaze dropped and then landed on the far beam of his flashlight. Something flickered in the distance, just a few yards away from him, buried in the moss.

He stumbled back onto his feet, his trembling hands picking up a small, golden band. His chest seized.

The ring.

His ears picked up the babbling sounds of water. The river was close, only a few feet away. That had to be it. You’d left him another sign.

Grabbing his flashlight, his hands hastily searched the ground. His fingers brushed a thick patch of bramble, and then – there. His breath halted. Metal.

The hatch.

He skidded to a stop, his hands shaking as he dropped to his knees and cleared the leaves and brush away. The metal was a bit busted and bent out of shape, probably from the bomb, but the bolt that kept it tightly shut was still in tact. His fingers fumbled for the lock, every second stretching longer than the last.

“It’s here!” Beau yelled loudly, calling the others for help. “She’s here!”

His mind kept circling back to you. You were trapped down there. Trapped and drowning.

I’m coming, darlin’. Hold on.

Finally, his fingers found the latch, and with a metallic groan, the hatch creaked open.

The stench of damp earth hit him first – the cold, stagnant air of a place that had been shut off from the world for too long. His flashlight flickered as he shined it down into the narrow opening. The steps below were steep, the darkness absolute. He could hear the distant drip of water, and with it, a rising sense of urgency.

He didn’t waste time. Without a second thought, he grabbed the flashlight and began to descend, the metal of the hatch scraping against the edges of the door as he pulled it wide open. His breath caught as he stepped into the narrow stairwell.

The moment he hit the bottom, the sound of rushing water was unmistakable.

The tunnel was flooded. The water was rising fast, covering the floor in murky, black waves. The small concrete room at the base of the stairs had become a watery tomb, the level inching toward the ceiling.

He shouted your name, his voice crackling in the damp air.

But there was no answer.

Beau pushed forward, his heart in his throat, eyes scanning every inch of the flooded room. Your presence was all he could feel – your spirit, your strength, your last message. He had to find you.

A sudden thud echoed through the chamber, the faint sound of something – or someone – shifting beneath the water.

Beau’s eyes locked on the back wall of the room, where the water was thickest, swirling around a pile of debris. His mind screamed. The seconds were melting away, and he couldn’t afford to waste a single one.

The wall was crumbling under the pressure, but the thing that struck him wasn’t just the damage. It was the stillness. There was no movement. No air.

His pulse spiked as he waded through the rising water, kicking through the murk with his boots, moving faster now, hands trembling as he shoved aside debris.

Please, please, please…

And then, beneath the surface, a hand – limp, floating like a ghost. Beau lunged, his fingers brushing against your wrist, cold and unyielding.

He cried your name again, his voice hoarse with panic as he pulled you to him, cradling your body against his chest.

Your skin was ice-cold. Your hair matted against your face, your body limp in his arms. You were unconscious – or worse.

Don’t you dare be dead. Don’t you dare.

Beau’s breath came in harsh bursts, his hands fumbling against you, trying to find any sign of life. The water was rising too fast.

He wasn’t going to lose you. Not like this.

With a single, desperate motion, he hoisted you into his arms. He didn’t stop. His feet pounded the water-soaked concrete as he bolted back toward the stairs, his lungs burning, the world blurring around him.

Get out. Get out.

He could feel the water rising behind him, flooding the room with the force of a tide. He didn’t know if the two of you would make it. He didn’t know if he could make it.

But he was going to try. He was going to fight like hell to keep you alive.

The hatch was there, just ahead, the only way out. He pushed harder, faster, as the water reached his knees, then his waist. Every breath was a battle. Every second felt like an eternity.

With one final push, he reached the top of the stairs, stumbling out into the fresh air, gasping for breath, his legs weak beneath him. He laid you on the ground, your limp body draped across the earth.

Beau’s hands were shaking as he knelt beside you. “Darlin’,” he whispered, shaking you gently.

Nothing.

Tears blurred his vision as he pressed his ear to your chest, listening for any sign of life.

A faint, fragile beat.

You were still with him.

He could barely breathe, panic threatening to swallow him whole, but he knew he had to keep it together.

He leaned over your body, his hands moving quickly. “Come on, darlin’. Come on…” His voice cracked as he positioned his hands, interlocking his fingers over your sternum. He gave two hard compressions, the sound of his palms meeting your chest too loud in the thick silence.

Still nothing. Your skin was frozen, your lips tinged blue.

His breath hitched, and he started again – one, two, three…

His heart hammered in his chest as he leaned down, pinching your nose and sealing his mouth over yours. He breathed into you, feeling the faint rise of your chest beneath him.

Please, please, don’t leave me.

He gave you another breath, then returned to the chest compressions – one, two, three…

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, each moment more desperate than the last. His hands moved faster, his fingers slick with water and sweat as he pressed into you again and again. He wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t.

He hadn’t even taken note of the crowd that had gathered around him, watching the dire spectacle.

Finally – after what felt like a lifetime – your body jerked beneath his hands. You gasped, a harsh, ragged breath, and Beau nearly collapsed in relief. He cradled your head gently, his green eyes searching your face as you coughed weakly, water spilling from your mouth.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he breathed into your hair, his voice thick with emotion and eyes filled with tears as he kissed your crown repeatedly, his hold tight around your body.

You opened your eyes, just a sliver at first, and then you blinked, your hand weakly reaching for his cheek before it dropped to his chest.

“Beau…” you whispered, your voice barely a breath before you let out the first few sobs and coiled against him.

“It’s alright. I’m here.”

And for the first time in days, Beau let himself breathe as he steadied your trembling frame in his embrace.

Hospitals weren’t your favorite thing in the world. In fact, you had pretty much avoided them your whole life. You’d screamed your way through your tonsils surgery when you were five. You refused to get your broken arm cast when you were fourteen. But there was one thing you had always cherished during your involuntary stays:

Pudding.

Randy was the first person that stopped by early in the morning. You didn’t know if that decision had been a collusive one, agreed upon by the whole team, but you were grateful for the visit – more grateful when he brought you your sweet treat.

Something had been going on, though, while you were locked up – you could tell. As you’d clung to Beau’s chest last night in the forest, you caught Randy in the crowd around you before he ducked his head and retreated into the shadows. Your heart broke at the sight.

Beau didn’t leave your side, though, even riding in the ambulance with you while reassuring you throughout. He held your hand tightly, but his shoulders were stiff. And when they wheeled you out of the emergency room, the doors closed in front of him. You hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

You’d only slept for about five hours, but it had been a deep slumber. You had been out like a light. But as soon as you woke, you felt the aches of your body. There wasn’t a single limb or organ that didn’t groan in pain. Your ankle was the worst, though – the doctors told you you were lucky you got to keep it by the degree of infection it had suffered. The murky water of the river surely hadn’t helped cleaning it.

Sepsis, hypothermia, drowning, and lifelong trauma were just a few of the things you had to recover from.

There was also the dissolution of your marriage – you’d finally found the right term. Not widowed, not divorced – dissolved.

Randy stayed for three hours, and you had an honest and long talk. Oddly enough, being in his presence didn’t feel strange anymore. It felt familiar.

While your brain had adjusted, your heart remained steadfast. Randy had recognized it too and conceded. When he left your bedside, you sent him a smile with tears brimming in your eyes.

A chapter closed. A song ended. But your heart was at peace.

Beau’s heart pounded furiously in his chest as he stood glued outside your hospital room. Every laugh that echoed through the door felt like a gut punch.

Randy had asked to speak to you first. Beau had granted him the request – not that it had been really up to him. But Randy had been gracious last night, and the sheriff knew it couldn’t have been easy.

Beau had arrived at the hospital around noon, only to find you and Randy were still talking. Not only talking but laughing. While his heart murmured a tiny bit, he supposed it was a good sign. Who said you had to throw plates or the occasional vase at each other?

Twenty minutes later, Randy finally exited and ran straight into Beau around the corner, who had leaned against the wall and tried to answer the many nosy questions of the group chat. He didn’t know why the hell Cassie had invited him into this one…

“Oh, hey.” Randy chuckled lightly as he bumped into Beau, eyeing him with a suspicious brow. There was the flash of a smirk on his face.

Eager, are we? Beau could read Randy thoughts, even though his former friend refrained from saying them out loud.

“Hey.” Beau’s voice was low. He swallowed thickly as he tried his hardest not to avert his gaze to the linoleum flooring. “How is she?”

“In good spirits,” Randy replied but then paused. “For now. I think the morphine’s kicking in.”

“So, uhm–”

Beau didn’t know where that sentence would end. Flat-out asking Randy how your conversation went would’ve just been pathetically nosy – and rude. His mama had raised him better than that.

“I’m going back to Houston,” Randy still answered the unasked question.

“With, uhm–” Your name hung on the tip of Beau’s tongue before he bit down, noting Randy’s shaking head.

“Don’t push it.”

“Right…” Beau smacked his lips and cleared his throat, his hand scratching the nape of his neck. “So, what about you and me, huh? I know right now’s a stretch, but maybe down the road we could grab a beer?”

Randy’s lips pursed at first – unsure. But after a beat passed, he nodded slightly. “Maybe, yeah.” He hesitated. “Hit me up if you’re ever in Houston, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Beau’s lips twitched to a smile of surprise, but he still wished there was more he could do, more he could offer. It didn’t feel enough. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Randy gave him a tight-lipped nod and patted him on the shoulder as he passed him. “You too.”

Beau watched Randy angle towards the elevators before exhaling a deep breath. Green eyes then drifted to your door. His heart was both elated and heavy. Questions circled in his mind.

What now?

The case was as good as over. Would you leave now? Where would you go? Beau knew your home was in Houston. Should he move back there, too? Would you even want him to? He’d broken up with you. Again. Were you still mad at him for it? He had tried to restrain himself last night, not knowing where the two of you stood. He held your hand in his, even though it was your whole body he wanted to keep holding in his arms.

You’d chosen no one. Maybe this was a day of break-ups for you.

Beau’s knuckles softly knocked on your door before he entered. Unsurely, he stood until your eyes glanced up and found his. A smile rose on your lips.

“Hey, there you are. You just missed Randy,” you said.

At a loss for words, Beau stared at you for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest. You still looked pretty rough – hooked up to IVs, your face and arms covered in bruises and cuts. But at least you were here – alive. There was some color back in your cheeks. Until a few hours ago, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see you again.

“Oh, uh, passed him in the hall,” Beau finally said and obnoxiously cleared his throat. “Said he was going back to Houston.”

“Yeah, he told me. I gave him my apartment,” you said, your voice a casual melody as you ignored the tension that was building between you two.

Beau’s brows shot up. “You gave him your place?”

“Least I could do. I sold his home.”

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet. Guess I’m kinda homeless now. Again,” you said and hid the hint of a smile. You could see his wires were crossed.

“Hmm,” he hummed and shifted on his heels.

“Thank you,” you then said softly, trying to fight the tears that pricked your eyes. You swallowed heavily. “For saving me, you know? Bringing me back to life…”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied with a tight-lipped smile and a shake of his head, although a lump formed in the back of his throat at the haunting image of you, limb in his arms. He never wanted to see something like this again. He never wanted to feel that crippling, numbing fear ever again.

You snorted slightly at his understatement, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. “Feel like I have to. They told me you gave me CPR for three minutes straight. They said I was pretty much gone.”

“They’re exaggerating. It wasn’t that long,” he brushed off. “‘Sides, I wasn’t gonna let you die on my watch.”

“Like I said, thanks,” you reiterated and sent him a smile. “So, why are you standing so far away like I’m radioactive?”

Beau pursed his lips. “Well, you are kinda my kryptonite, darlin’.” He scratched the back of his neck, his boots still not moving closer. “Don’t really know where we stand, y’know? I mean, last time… that morning… I guess I’m tryna say I’m sorry for puttin’ you through that. So, on a scale from one to ten, how mad are you at me right now?”

“Well, if you put it like that… zero.” You grinned teasingly. “Hard to stay mad at you, considering you’ve saved my life, you know? I’m willing to forget your momentary stupidity. Well, if it really was momentary…”

“Oh, it was,” Beau confirmed, your heart expanding with a breath of relief. “Going with an insanity defense here. So… what does that mean?”

Musingly, you bit down on your lip. “I don’t know. Guess you’ll have to come closer and find out.”

Beau’s lips hiked to a wide, genuine smile for the first time in days. His feet began moving toward you.

Enjoying the warm rays of sunlight on your face, you exhaled blissfully as you sat outside the trailer, leaning comfortably back in your chair.

“There ya go – one extra black, extra strong cup of joe.” Beau handed you your favorite mug, his pine green eyes drifting to your injured leg, propped up on a wooden stool in front of you.

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile and practically inhaled the black liquid, its warmth filling you.

“How’s the ankle? That stool looks uncomfortable,” he noted, brushing his beard. His head tilted. “You need a pillow? Imma grab you one. Anything you need, darlin’. Officially retired since yesterday, you know? I’m here all day. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.”

Amused, you laughed a little. “I don’t need a pillow. The ankle’s fine. Just sit down next to me and enjoy the sun, will you?”

“It’s freezing.”

“I like how the snow twinkles in the sun,” you said and patted the chair next to you. With a groan, Beau sat down, wrapping his suede jacket a little tighter around himself while you sat cozily draped in the Sherpa jacket you had stolen from his closet. It was big and wide and warm and smelled heavenly like him. “‘Sides, I have a pretty nice jacket to keep me warm.” He frowned a little at you, but an amused smile twitched on his lips. “You said I should make myself comfortable – anything I wanted.”

“Didn’t think you’d raid my closet,” he huffed playfully.

“Hey, I only came here with a tiny carry-on.”

You’d been released from the hospital last night after spending a full week there. In the meantime, Beau had decided to hang up the sheriff’s hat, handing the badge off to Jenny – you’d fully agreed with the decision. You knew his heart hadn’t been in it for a while now.

He’d also asked you to move in.

And moreover, you’d finished your last reports and then handed in your resignation at the FBI. One serial killer kidnapping was enough for you. Diane had showed you where your limit was, and that was okay. You looked forward to a quiet life with the man beside you. It was its own adventure. God knows Diane’s life wouldn’t be as happy and peaceful behind bars.

Neither of you had spoken to her since your rescue. Sheriff Hoyt had handled all things on that end. By the amount of evidence they had to go through, Ted even surmised her trial wouldn’t start until three years from now. Until then, Beau and you had promised each other you wouldn’t waste another thought on her.

Well, you supposed you had to waste some thoughts on her. A big publisher from New York had already approached you about a book deal – and the money was more than good.

“Guess we’ll have to go down to Houston to get your stuff once you’re back on your feet,” Beau said.

Musingly, you scrunched your nose and hummed. “Not sure that’s necessary. It’s not gonna fit in the trailer anyways – not with your extensive closet.”

Amused, Beau pursed his lips and chuckled. He rubbed a hand through his beard. “Yeah, I was thinking about that… Maybe we should move. Get a bigger place, you know?”

“Do they make bigger Airstreams?” you murmured teasingly into your mug, cocking an eyebrow.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “I was thinking more along the lines of a house. A ranch, maybe.”

“What about a houseboat?”

“Nah, that wouldn’t work with the kids. Try keeping a toddler in a life jacket all day,” Beau quipped, shaking his head. He didn’t even seem to notice what had slipped out of his mouth.

Your brow creased. “Kids?”

His wide eyes found yours, mouth opening and closing. He let out nervous breath. “Yeah, uh, something else I wanted to talk to you about…”

“Are you pregnant?” you joked and snorted into your coffee. Then, your brow furrowed. “Wait, am I? Did the doctor say something to you? Why would you smuggle tequila into my room if you knew?”

“No one’s pregnant, darlin’…” Beau laughed softly, his hand reaching out to cover your thigh. “I was just thinking maybe more a down-the-line kinda thing. In the, uh, near future, you know?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Well, uhm, I didn’t think that was on table. We’ve never talked about it. I mean, I honestly didn’t think you’d want to…”

“Kinda gettin’ tired of people always assuming things about me,” Beau retorted with a little smirk. He squeezed your thigh. “Kids are on the table, darlin’.”

“Huh.”

Clearing his throat, Beau leaned forward in his seat. “You know, I had a little chat with Randy…”

You scoffed in surprise. “He actually told you?”

“Bigger question is, why didn’t you tell me?” Beau’s brow raised almost scoldingly. He was a pretty great dad.

“Honestly? Because it’s none of your business. That was between me and my then-late husband,” you replied with a sharpness that matched his look – there was a playfulness lying underneath, though. You both knew the other had a point. You exhaled a long sigh. “Look, that was four years ago. A lot has changed since then. I haven’t really thought about it since Randy’s funeral. Then Mexico happened. God knows we were nowhere near ready for a conversation like this…”

You gave him a shrug of your shoulders and sipped on your coffee.

“So, you don’t want kids?”

“Do you?”

Beau chuckled lightly, his fingers tapping the chair’s armrest. “Look, I’m already retiring from the job – I don’t wanna retire from life,” he said. “Sure, for a long time, I wasn’t thinking about another kid, but Emily’s almost off to college. Would be nice to feel needed again, do it all over… I don’t wanna fish every day till I drop.”

You snorted a laugh.

“So? What d’you say?”

Biting down on your lip, you glanced behind you at the Airstream. Then you found his green eyes and grinned. “Yeah, I think we’ll definitely need a bigger place. Maybe something between a houseboat and a ranch?”

Beau could barely contain his smile but played along. “And what would that be?”

It ended up being a lake house. Beau fished every morning. You watched him and the sunrise from the window as you wrote your novel.

The baby arrived by next Christmas.

THE END

I think reader would be unstoppable in an Escape Room 😂

I so hope you enjoyed this last part, loves! What a wonderful journey it's been. Thank you to every single one of you from the bottom of my heart 🤍

And PS: I do have a little future one-shot in mind for them 😉

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Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

[insidetheastralplane]

some of the 1st ED fringe show captions cause they were so silly i was DYING at them (part FOUR)

[sourtomatola]

Cosmic chaos 3 Part 10 (last)

This was so much fun! Thank you @enigmaticcattic for letting me run with your AU!! And for letting me make a new villain to throw everyone off XD

First part | Prev part

Cosmic chaos 1 | Cosmic chaos 2

[mollywog]

Roommate

Part 1 | Part 2

This is all I had planned, but I might be convinced to write a small addition (in which Peeta has the strangest week)

Thank you all for reading!! I’ve been kicking my feet over the commentary in the notes and reblogs!! 🩶🩶🩶

Her sister’s scream wakes her. Katniss blinks into the sudden brightness before checking her phone: 5 am, well past last call. “How was your date?”

“Jesus Christ Katniss! You scared me! Have you been there all night?!”

“Well I couldn’t stay at my place, could I? Didn’t want to risk being there if you went home with Peeta last night… Which you obviously did.”

Prim stays at their childhood home between semesters of med school. Even with their mother working the night shift, It was a safe bet that Prim wouldn’t try to bring someone back here if she could help it. Then Peeta had text at 9 pm to ask if he should expect her that night, and it was as good as hanging a sock on the door. That’s when it really hit her. She’d sent a single word response before putting her phone on do-not-disturb and waiting in Prim’s room for the awful night to be over.

“Ah-ha!” Prim points triumphantly, “So you admit it! It bothered you, didn’t it?”

“Yeah! I fucking hated it! Are you happy?”

“But why Katniss?” she affects a too innocent air, “I thought you would be happy if Peeta met someone you approved of.”

Katniss stares up at the ceiling and exhales, “because I like Peeta, alright?”

“Just like?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Fine,” Prim says, dropping to sit next to her, “and yes: I am a little happy. So, now that you’ve finally admitted it, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know… Move probably?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Katniss scowls at her sister.

Prim huffs, “I was at Rue’s, by the way. We went to the Hob to dance last night and then I slept off the buzz at her place. You’re lucky I had to come back early to get ready for work. You would have been sitting here in misery till well after brunch.”

“He still agreed to go on a date with you.” Katniss hadn’t wanted to believe Prim’s assertion, so on Wednesday she’d asked Peeta if he’d wanted to go to happy hour with her at the end of the week. He’d said he was meeting a friend for drinks, and that was all the confirmation she’d needed. It hurt, but she’d convinced herself it only bothered her because he hadn’t trusted her enough to be honest.

Prim rolled her eyes, “I was fucking with you. I asked him to meet up to talk about your birthday. Told him not to mention it to you or you’d try to tag along and it would ruin the surprise. He’s not an idiot. He’d never hurt his chances with you by even feinting interest in me.”

“Please.”

“Are you kidding me? He’s not even trying to hide his feelings. I don’t know how you can breathe in that apartment with all the pent up sexual tension.”

She probably should never trust Prim again, but Katniss allows herself a small bit of hope that what she’s saying is true, “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rue agrees, if that helps. She said I was the asshole and that I owe you an apology... But she didn’t think it would work either, so jokes on her.”

Katniss snorts.

“But seriously; I may have gone a little overboard, but the next person won’t be doing it for your benefit. Now, get out of here and do something about it.”

On Ao3

[awkward-fink]

In times of sickness - Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

“Love. This is it. This is how I go. Forgotten an' a' alone in this daft world, watchin' the folk pass by without a single glance at me. I’m burnin', I tell ye Love. Ma heart's turnin' to liquid in ma chest, ma lungs are jam-packed I can barely breathe. An' every step is agony, ma muscles just willnae work. This is it. This is ma end. But I’m glad ye’re by ma side. Hold me close, Love, let ma heavy head rest against yer ample breasts for one last time afore ma eyes close forever an' I leave this world behind. I can hear the heavens callin' ma name, the angels' trumpets soundin' to open the gates for me. I can see ma Grandma wavin' at me, welcomein' me!”

“Love, Johnny, listen. First, your grandma is still alive and kicking. Second, you only have a little –“ But your husband is groaning loudly now, splayed over the bed and over your legs, his forehead pressing against the skin of your stomach, his head nuzzling into your fingers as you card them through his lackluster mohawk.

“Ma angel, ma darlin' beloved wifey, ma better half, dinnae miss me tae much, for I'll be waitin' fer ye ahint the gates o' heaven. I'll be watchin' o'er ye every second o' every day, ye'll never be alane. Ma heart's beatin' only fer ye and noo it’s beatin' sae much harsher, breathin' is gettin' sae hard I can barely stand it anymore. I just want it tae end, I wisnae made tae suffer like this, tae go oot in agony o' the sickness wreckin' ma body. Whaur's ma glory? Whaur’s the explosions heraldin' ma passin'? Nae, only me in yer arms, slowly leakin' ma life awa' intae the abyss. At least I can see yer eyes an’ lips ae last time. Love, ma Honey, ma wife, please, gie me one last kiss afore I go an' rest in eternity. Tell ma team houw brave I wis and that I'll miss them…” Johnny whines loudly, nosing against your bare navel, his big and burly arms loosely wrapped around your back to hold you close to him as he dies tragically on your lap, his body twitching one last time.

Or so he would like to portray it. But you must chuckle as you gently stroke your husbands mohawk and head, nails scratching softly over his scalp, making the man moan loudly, and not in pain.

“Darling, you only have a little cold and a sniffle. Nothing we can’t get rid of in the next few days. Tell you what, im gonna draw you a bath, a hot one with the additive you like so much, the one that smells of sandalwood? And then im gonna order some food in and will join you in the bath, how does that sound?”

“Like a wee miracle... Hey, lassie, closin' in skin contact an' *even mair* does help wi' fightin' illness, aye?” He grins salaciously at you, a mischievous glint in the one eye you can see. You laugh. And slap him once. “You insatiable monster.”

------------------------------------------------------

He has the man flu

And he has it bad

He is dying for sure.

Soap is the biggest attention wh*** when he is sick, no one has ever been in so much agony as he is now, for sure

You must stand by his side, because he wants to die in your arms

Or between your legs, he is not shy about that

The closer you two are the better and there is not much closer than *that*, right?

Also, his uncle once told him skin contact and light exertion would help with battling illness, so why not do it with you in the bath or bed?

Will whine and groan and moan until you finally lay beside him in bed, cuddling him

Loves it when you scratch his scalp and neck gently with your nails.

Is the quickest to be healthy again, but also the most vocal when sick or feeling sick (but only where its safe, only ever with you and at home)

Snores so loud you need earbuds to sleep beside him, is also a drooler when sick.

[vespidclan]

!!Suicidal Implications!!

[MOON 27 PT 2]

NEXT

[Listen to me.]

[jasscheeks]

bully; suna rintarou

pairings: suna x fem!reader

finding the two of you in another tight situation, suna finally gets the answer he’d been waiting for. but he quickly fumbles when he forgets to formally ask you to be his girlfriend.

warnings: i mean they make out? it gets a little steamy but nothing too crazyy, light cursing, confessions, LAST PART!!

i took over a year off and cut you bitches some slack

tell a friend to tell a friend

SHES BAAAACK

thank you for reading!! reblogs help!!

m.list! | ao3!

← previous part

"so," he began, wandering hands creeping along your sides, "ever heard of deja vu?" he asked lowly, earning a sharp glare from you.

the two of you found yourselves in yet another closed space, the club room's closet for imagination.

"can you shut up?" you whispered harshly. pulling him away from the door, you sent him flying toward the equipment in the back. of course, he didn't make it that far but he loved to see you try. pressing your ear against the door you tried to catch onto the conversation outside.

before being cooped up in the closet, suna decided it was a good time to collect his daily dose of you. he'd come into the clubroom, once again teasing you as per usual with his eyes on your lips unabashedly. he knocked over pens, sneering as you narrowed your eyes at him but still picked them up. and he followed your gaze as you stood up, sending warmth throughout your body. but you were quick to forget that as he was swiftly moving on to the next thing to meddle with.

he bounced from corner to corner with you, trailing behind to keep him from messing up the room you'd just organized. he didn't stop until you had him cornered, only for him to make some snarky comment. something along the lines of "did i ever tell you i like dominant girls?" but you weren't listening.

quickly, he once again had you roped into his arms, a place you found was very warm and comforting. turning the tables on you, he had you pinned to the very closet you two hid in. with his lips alone, he was able to make you melt in the simplest of ways and as much you deny it, he was prying his way to your heart. he always saw you, literally and metaphorically. he felt you like no one. you could say you're addicted to him, but that would be admitting too much for your likes.

a calloused hand held onto your face as he kissed you sensually. the other hand traveled down your back trying to sneakily cop a feel, but you were a step ahead as you grabbed a hold of his wrist before he moved any further. as expected, he was smiling into that kiss, pressing even harder into you after the fact.

but hearing the coaches just outside the door sent you into a panic. you were too close to pretend you were doing nothing, too close to get away from each other, and frankly, you didn't think you could stop now. so opening the door behind you, you both fell in closing the door behind you.

"their conversation can't stop us from continuing you know?" he whispered, softly leaning on a shelf. "can't we keep it going in here?" a frown grew on his face as you continued to ignore him, clearly invested in the conversation outside. little did he know, you were waiting until they left so you could continue without any fear.

just as you heard the two outside leaving the room, you felt something soft bounce off the top of your head landing at your feet. you turned around to see him, a pack of cotton balls in his hands as he froze. a smirk grew on his face as you finally looked his way. "oho~ what? did they finally leave?" he asked with his lips curled into a smug grin.

you huffed, ears burning as you stomped towards him. you couldn't believe you were the one doing this, you'd never been the one to initiate it, but feeling his gaze on you made you want to prove yourself even more. "just...kiss me already," you stared at him through half-lidded eyes as you grabbed a fist-full of his practice jersey. "that's what you wanted, right?"

you wondered why he stood there, staring down at you. you thought that maybe showing a new side of you would end up like that, usually by now he'd be all over you. but he simply leaned his head to the side, leering down at you. "is that not what you want too?" he asked. "don't you want to kiss me too?"

frozen, your hand slowly loosened its grasp on him. he wasn't smiling anymore, instead he was imagining the gears in your brain turning and twisting to think of an answer. and when you didn't give him one, he began to feel a tickling sensation at his heart, the organ dropping to his stomach as the two of you sat on in silence.

"don't you like kissing me too? i mean, we're together every passing period, (y/n). after everything we've done, don't we both like—this?" he gestured between the two of you, eyes scanning the expression on your face. "don't you like me too?" he whispered.

as much as he was right, you couldn't help but look away, face flushing at the thought of it. after the last time, he led you into the locker room, it set off a fire in both of your cores. suddenly one peck wasn't enough, one little kiss wasn't cutting it for the two of you. soon the two of you were sneaking away just to have each other, pulling each other off to the sides just to "chat."

even on the weekends when atsumu and osamu would bring him along to laze around your home, he was sneaking away to spend some time with you. he'd spend the few minutes he had cuddling in your bed, kissing your lips and face all over but not without a few teasing comments here and there. your time together never lasted long though, as you were always pushing him away before the twins noticed he was gone longer than a bathroom break should take.

not to mention you weren't as pissy as you usually were when the twins stopped by toting suna around with them. during those times, you were able to get a glimpse of what it would be like to date suna, a peek at what being suna rintarou's girlfriend would be like. and you had to admit every aspect of it was everything you could ever ask for.

he was surprisingly sweet and gentle with you, treating you like a princess. most of the time he was content with just having you in his arms, it didn't matter if you kissed or not. but his snarky nature never left, he still found the energy to tease you, now in newer more touchy ways. he framed his words perfectly, always getting his point across the first time around. when his lips met yours time and time again and his sweet words would meet your ears, he made sure his intentions with you were crystal clear, clearer than a diamond.

you wondered if your friends noticed just how much time you were spending away if they noticed you were always missing during passing periods and sometimes at lunch, and if they could see how much happier you were and how your eyes sparkled at the mention of suna. contrary to the look of absolute distaste anytime suna's name was mentioned just months before, you believed there had to be some type of change. most importantly, you wondered if atsumu noticed the change. you wondered if he noticed that you stopped walking home with him and osamu so often since he would already have swept you away, a sneaky hand intertwining with yours. and finally that made you come back to your senses.

"t-think about atsumu, suna. the team too, they'll think of me as the girl who joined just to get around. and if it's even true that atsumu likes me..." you stared into his eyes, detecting the confusion in them. "...i don't want to hurt what we have," you voiced to him, truly you were scared that not just atsumu would see you two, but you can feel something hanging in your heart, something heavy and desperately trying to pry itself free.

he threw his eyebrows up as he stood up straight, "think about atsumu?" he repeated, his voice condensed. "(y/n), think about me— think about us, who gives a shit about what they think?" he began, a hand pressing against his chest. "i know you care for him, i do too, but you and i��� isn't there something here?" his voice cracked, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

you stare into the space, now suddenly unable to meet his eyes. your lips were trembling to say more, say something. you know what you feel, you know what you want to say to him but you can't force the words to the surface. so instead you sat in silence, his eyes staring holes into your face as you tried to gather your words.

flashes of what you see when you're with him pass through your mind. his rare smile that somehow only you get to see, that chuckle you can't help but get butterflies every time you hear, the hums of satisfaction that come from the both of you as he snuggles up close to you with his strong arms around you. there's only one reason why your heart beats so fast when you're around him, why your core warms when he hugs you, and why your eyes sparkle when you look at him.

you never thought this would be the way you would tell him though.

every time you imagined telling him how you feel, you imagined something sweet and romantic, like on your doorstep as you both say bye, or at one of his games. you imagined yourself running to him, after a successful game and kissing the life out of him, just to part and blurt out how much you were falling for him.

"(y/n)," he calls, his hands reaching for you, needy fingers crawling along your waist. he was grabbing at your jacket, a customized manager jacket the third years had gifted you with your last name on the back. oh, how he fantasized that it was his name across your back instead. but as his hands pull you in close, his head drops down to look at you. "aren't we something?" he's looking nowhere but you.

that catches your attention as you're immediately looking up at him. your greeted with his hooded hazel eyes, staring lazily into yours. he's not glancing but head-on staring at your lips, watching as you bite the insides on them before he's back at your eyes. but you're guilty of it too, your eyes glancing down to his lips every so often. you know how they feel, how soft he always feels against your lips, and how much you'd give to feel him again.

"we..." you begin, your heart filling with adoration just staring into his eyes. "if i kiss you right now, would you return it?" as those soft words leave your lips and fall onto his open ears, his lips curl into a grin.

his hands pull you in closer as if you weren't already close. "i don't know, you just might have to find ou—," he can't finish his sentence because you're already smashing your lips on his. it stuns him for just a second before he's moving along with you, an arm wrapping around your body.

you're sweet on his lips, that sugary taste of your chapstick rubbing off on his tongue. he's addicted, craving for more of your sweet, sweet taste as he presses further into you. hearing your gasps, he breaks away, for just a second his lips meeting your cheeks, your chin, all the way down your neck. and that's when you say it, those three words he's always dreamt of you uttering.

it makes him stop in his tracks, his hands tightening around your frame. "...what?" he asks, the softness of his own voice startling him. he looks for your eyes, only to find them mirroring his signature lazy look.

your hands meet his cheeks, your thumbs circling shapes on his skin before you're smiling toward him. "i’m not going to pretend anymore, rin, and i never should’ve pretended in the first place, but,” you peck his lips, giggling when he follows your fleeting presence. "i like you so much."

he stares, heart thumping louder than before, cheeks as red as a fire truck, and core as warm as the sun. he's gonna pass out from happiness at this point, and in this moment you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. even with the horrible lighting and lack thereof, he thinks you look absolutely breathtaking. he never thought he could fall any deeper in love with you, but hearing you utter his nickname, telling him you love him, he might just have to go back to the drawing board on that theory. "you like me..."

you're nodding, your hands pulling him to hover over your lips, "i like you..."

in a split second, he's pressing back into you, continuing what you started. "i love you more," he's whispering against your lips, keeping a firm grip on your waist. this time you let his hands travel further, a sneaking hand meeting the sides of your butt, the other pressing against the small of your back. he's different somehow, more needy and demanding with his hands.

but you don't get to see this side of him for long before the two of you hear a distant,

"hey, where's suna?"

—

you're rushing again, like every morning before school.

you didn't decide to get up and get ready for school until you absolutely had to. and every time you spent your mornings repeatedly pressing snooze just to get a few more minutes of sleep, you regretted it every single time. although this morning it seems you have more done than usual and a lot more time than you thought.

your book bag is ready to go, surprisingly your phone is fully charged, and your mom had whipped up something quick for you to eat. usually, you'd just grab a bowl of cereal or a bagel and some fruit for your breakfast, just something light and simple, so thank goodness your mom had work as well. though she had already left, taking your younger siblings to school.

on the way downstairs, you're fumbling with the tie on your uniform, the one step you usually got atsumu or osamu to do. but today, something made you want to learn how to do it yourself. but that whim falls short as you can see atsumu and osamu walking up to your house through the glass panes. your eyes quickly find the analog clock that sits above the front door. they're early, way too early.

and of course, guess who's towing around with them. you can see him look up at your house, possibly looking up at your room, and for the millionth time, you feel butterflies.

but instead of dwelling on suna any longer, you swing the door open before they reach it, meeting atsumu's surprised eyes. not long after he's smiling your way, clearly tickled by you. "looks like you were waiting for us, hm?" he mused, catching his balance on your porch.

"you're early today," you replied, watching as he just shrugged pointing to suna who trailed behind the two twins.

"someone wanted to tag along," he quipped, walking towards you with his hands shoved in his pockets. his twin and suna crowded around your door. osamu muttering a good morning to you, while suna just stared on. not at you, but out into the neighborhood, at the house next door, you presumed.

sighing, you moved aside so they could come inside. "get in, i'll be down in a bit."

with that they shuffled into your house, their tall frames somehow making the spacious entryway look small. the three resumed their spots on the couch while you hurried up the stairs. you looked down at them from the railing, eyes immediately going towards suna.

he watched as the twins made themselves comfortable on your couch, pulling out their phones and scrolling through the apps. and before you could realize since your eyes were trained on his fluffy hair, he was looking up at you. you flinch away, tearing your gaze away to the door of your room. but you had a feeling about what was coming next, he'd be up here soon and you knew it.

so instead you tried to make yourself busy with this tie. you tried going underneath and through, even the bunny loop and pull, but nothing was working. you were planning on scrapping the whole thing and just leaving the tie lesson for another day, but you didn't like the sound of giving up that easily. so instead you reach for your phone, typing up an easy tutorial on how to tie a tie.

about halfway through the tutorial you finally begin to grasp the concept, actually finding it a bit easier than you were making it. so pausing the video, you decide to try for yourself. that is until you feel something pull the piece of fabric away from your hands and neck. quickly turning around, suna has your tie in between his fingers, his lips curl into a grin as he bounces it between his hands. "after all these years of wearing a uniform, you don't know how to tie a tie?" he jeered.

despite your butterflies coming back to plague you, your annoyance overpowers them at the moment as he plays with your tie. "suna, give me back my tie." you demand, as calm as you can be.

"hmm...you're gonna have to fight me for it," he shrugs before twirling the end around his fingers and bounding it up.

"you're gonna wrinkle it!" you reached for it, but he quickly moves it above his head, softly grinning as you huff at him. "not so fast there, just let me help you." his eyes follow you as you lunge at him once, but he moves the tie backward making you end up just a little closer to him. thankfully, your hands reach out for his arm to steady yourself before you completely fall on top of him.

regaining your balance(with his help), you reach for it one more time. "just give it back, suna, i can tie my own tie." you call, to which he shakes his head as he moves farther into your room, holding your tie even higher than before.

he's dragging you with, finding himself pushing against your clothes rack one more time. look at your arm that's outstretched for this red tie, he grabs that instead, his hand still holding onto the tie. "i'm finding that hard to believe..." he whispered, holding a finger to his lips. "shh, you don't want them to hear us, do you?”

those hazel eyes of his are taunting you once more, basically laughing in your face without even pulling a smile. but somehow, the butterflies are still there. they're swarming in your stomach once you realize how close you are to him. you huff, trying to play off how warm your body is getting just looking into his eyes. "suna, let go of me," your voice is quieter this time, considering his words, but it still has that indignant edge laced into it. you let go of his arm before you try to back away from him, but he's pulling you right back in.

this time, you're hands are splayed on his thighs, your body slotting between his legs so you have room to stand. "just let me do your tie for you," he asked, eyes pleading to do it. you can feel your heart beating like crazy, the sound so loud you can hear it ringing in your ears. you're scared he can hear it, that he can feel your heartbeat permeating throughout your body.

so instead of fighting him anymore, you comply with his wishes, letting him begin his work on your tie. "pay attention, i'm only doing this once, alright?" he asked, his eyes glancing up at yours, taking just one quick peek at your pouty lips. so, reluctantly, you're watching what he's doing, watching the steps he's going through. he goes a bit fast and the tie looping around is a little confusing, but you seem to catch on just fine. he smoothes out your collar and your blazer as well as your tie.

when he's done, he presses a kiss to your forehead leaving you looking up at him surprised. he smiles your way, before he's standing up from leaning on your clothes rack, his hands meeting your waist to slightly move you to the side. "come on they're probably waiting for us," he walks towards the side of your bed, picking up your book bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

but you can't let him leave like this, not when he's got to be the one to take care of you. "wait, rin," he stops immediately hearing that nickname fall from your lips.  his hair disheveled, almost like he didn't comb it this morning. "what's going on with your hair today?" you ask, as he bends down for you to fix it.

"i didn't have any time to do anything to it, the twins were gonna leave me," he found himself leaning towards your touch, finding your fingers combing through his hair a lot more therapeutic than ever. "and i wanted to see you, so..." he trailed off, making your hands stop for a moment. he tilted his head up, eyes meeting yours.

your cheeks had riled themselves up again, burning even more than before as he was smiling at you. so you push his face away before going to grab your backpack from him. "can you just give me my bag?" you try to avoid his gaze, outstretching your hand for him to hand it to you.

but he just holds onto the strap harder turning away from your hand, "no, i'm your boyfriend, right? so as your boyfriend, i want to carry your things." he adjusted the bag, seemingly a little lighter than he expected.

you pause physically and mentally, your mind stuck on one word. maybe it was the way he said it so nonchalantly, not a single sign of a stutter or hesitation laced his voice that made you so shocked. "my boyfriend?" you repeated to which he nodded.

"well yeah, i mean, you remember yesterday...right?" there it was, that embarrassment you were looking for earlier. he looked away, cheeks growing red as he reached a hand up to ruffle his freshly combed hair.

you reach for his hand, taking it away from his hair. "you haven't even asked me properly..." you squinted, eyebrows curving upwards and your mouth curving into a frown.

he can see the disappointment forming on your face, and his stomach begins to churn with guilt. "since we already know how we both feel, we could just...skip that part," he shrugged, watching as your face only scrunched up even more, leading you to shake your head no.

"skip it?" he's making it worse, so much worse. you're looking at him as if he was breaking up with you, a thing he couldn't even imagine doing.

"no, i don't mean it like that—," he begins but the two of you hear atsumu calling for you downstairs.

"(y/n), we're about to leave you with your best friend suna!" he called, snickering as you could hear his footsteps towards the front door.

turning towards suna, you're grabbing your backpack from his shoulder and turning on your heel to leave. but he's quick to grab your arm, like many times before, he's turning you to look at him. "will you be my girlfriend (y/n)?" he asks quickly, "and...i," he hesitates, searching your eyes for any hint of approval, but he can't find any.

so instead, he lets go, watching as you walk out the door and towards the two twins downstairs.

"and...i love you, shit, why can't i say it to her now?"

.

.

.

"was that our first fight as a couple?"

the entire walk to school, you ignored him. ultimately you left him with osamu to walk in the front with atsumu, making the boy fume with jealousy. he thought he had nothing to fear now that he knew how you felt about him, but seeing you chat so freely with atsumu, he had another thing coming.

he knew your temper very well, and he knew just what to do to run your patience short, but this was something different. he doesn't understand what made you so mad this time. obviously, it was him, but what did he do to make you this mad? what did he do to make you so mad that you're laughing at atsumu's jokes in front of him?

he just had to keep reminding himself that he's the guy you've kissed, cuddled, and even told you like him. not much can change in a day, right? right?

he's not sure now. it's been a few hours and you're still actively avoiding him. during the classes the two of you have with each other, you didn't look his way not once. instead, you made yourself busy with the people around you, engaging in conversation with everyone but him.

even during passing periods, he can't find you to talk about things. but throughout the periods, he either saw you with your little group of friends or with atsumu trailing next to you. not only did it make him a little jealous, but he was beginning to miss you.

he missed your agitated tone scolding him, your lips pouting in such a cute manner, and even the way you'd glare in his direction when he was caught staring at you. he just missed your overall presence. yes, you were still here, but you weren't giving him any sort of attention.

so seeing as you weren't going to talk to him, it's about time he started talking to other people.

"ojiro," he calls to his upperclassmen sitting next to him. he hums before looking up at him, stopping his chopsticks from picking up more food. he looks around first, searching for the girl in question, "i was watching this...show, and it's about this girl and this guy." he explains slowly, making ojiro raise an eyebrow at him.

but suna continues even as ojiro takes a long sip from his drink. "and they both like each other, so the guy thinks that since they like each other, they're basically dating," he huffs suddenly getting embarrassed recalling the conversation in his head. "but the girl...she doesn't think so."

as he finishes, he waits for ojiro to put his drink down. when he's done his eyes never once leave suna's, somehow making the boy nervous for his answer. "is this about you?" he asked.

immediately suna is shaking his head no. "no, no! it's NOT, about me. just answer this," he cleared his throat trying to regain his posture. "if they already told each other they like each other, aren't they together already?"

"well if neither of them asked, then no. she can't be your girlfriend if you never asked her to be your girlfriend," he answered, still making it seem like this story was about suna.

"alright thanks, and it's not about me, it's a TV show," he angrily picked up his chopsticks, "and don't tell anyone i said this."

they continue eating in silence, ojiro shrugged as he also picked up his chopsticks as well.

"then what's the show called?"

"i don't remember."

—

"wait one second, someone's at the door," you excused yourself from the couch you and your friends lounged on. so far, without suna or atsumu around you had a lot more time to spend with your other friends.

a few days have passed and there's still no sign of suna anywhere. the two of you hadn't talked since he walked you to school with the twins. and that was on tuesday, it's saturday now.

sometimes you wondered if you were being a little hard on him, the look in his eyes when he asked you to be his girlfriend stuck in your brain. it was rushed, almost like he was panicking. in the moment you were a little annoyed with him, not mad or upset, just irritated. but those feelings have long passed, and you wished you had just said yes then.

to admit it, you missed him. like a lot. usually, on days like this, it'd be him, atsumu, and osamu coming over to hang around your house and watch volleyball. but seeing your other friends on the couch where those three used to sit, kind of made you feel weird.

you shake it off though, hearing the person behind the door ring the bell again. as you open the door, you're met with a giant bouquet of roses, the fragrance hitting you all at once. but seeing as the bouquet is so big, you can't see the holder's face. "um...hello?" you asked, slowly inching to close the door again.

"(y/n)?" he peeks from behind the roses, revealing his tidy new hairstyle and the corduroy jacket that clung to his body. he'd somehow got his hair to slick back, revealing his forehead. "(y/n), i—," before he said anything else, you quickly pushed him back onto your porch and rushed out there with him.

you hurry to shut the door before your friends realize he's here. "what are you doing here?" you frantically ask him.

"well, i was just about to ask you out," he replied with a little bit of a sarcastic tone on his tongue. "who's in there?" he asked, to which you peeked at the windows behind you, praying they weren't secretly eavesdropping on your conversation.

"my friends are over, this is the only saturday i'm not busy so," you shrugged, crossing your arms, you look back at him, finally taking in the full fit. he came decked out in a dressy white t-shirt with a tan corduroy jacket on top, complete with some black jeans and new balance tennis shoes. you couldn't help but think he looked adorable. "what is this?" your eyes trace his new look, lingering on the bouquet that was just in your face.

he watched over you, seeing the smile you were fighting back. even with your red pajama pants with tiny dogs scattered all over them, he still found you to be the most breathtaking person on the planet. "supposed to be my way of properly asking you to be my girlfriend," and there it was, that smile he was waiting for. he reached for your hand pulling you in close as he intertwined your fingers. "you know thinking about you is my favorite past-time, and these past few days all i could think about was you." he spoke so softly, a pace much different than his usual deadpan voice. you could basically hear the affection in his words.

"i didn't know if i should show up to your house apologizing or if i should've called, asking what your favorite flowers were," "is this a good time to tell you roses are my favorite?" you cut him off, and for the first time he finally noticed the hearts in your eyes. his heart pounds against his chest, his own heart eyes on display to you. "i'll just say i took an educated guess then."

"i've loved you since...since that one time you walked into the men's restroom in our third year of middle school," he chuckled seeing you visibly cringe at the memory, "when you continued about your business even after seeing me washing my hands, ugh...you were pretty back then too, pretty and headstrong."

"suna!" you called, your free hand latching onto his shoulder trying to make him stop laughing. "how do you remember that? i told you to forget that even happened."

"because it was you, why would i forget?" he reasoned before seeing the look on your face, shrugging as he leaned into your hand that pushed his hair back. "alright, but i knew i loved you when i saw you in the cheer section during one of our games. we lost, but you still came down to console us, and even if you did hate me back then you were still so nice to me," he switched back to his sweet and gentle voice, his eyes calmly tracing over your features, "for years i've loved you and only you,

and if you'll have me, will you let me love you for more years to come as my girlfriend?" he watched the smile on your lips grow bigger and bigger, making his own lips curl into one.

"hmmm, i don't know," you teased, head tilting as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in close. your gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes, before he was leaning in so tantalizingly slow, so you moved along with him.

he placed his hand on your waist, the other that still held the bouquet wrapped around as well. "you don't know?" he repeated, matching your playful tone. "the smile on your face says otherwise," he finally leans in, his lips pressing against yours, something he'd been yearning to do since he saw you.

breathing in his scent, you could smell the sweet smell of his cologne, taste the warmth on his lips as he tilted his head pulling you in even deeper. all you could think about was suna when he had you in his arms like this, all you could feel was him as you're fighting back giggles from how happy you felt. so you let them go, laughing into the kiss, only for him to ask what's so funny?

"i love you," you said in between kisses, fingers lacing through his combed hair. he was smiling along with you, your teeth hitting each other. "what?" you asked eyes opening to meet his.

his hazel eyes were mesmerizing, leaving you melting in his hands like putty, "you love me now?" don't even get you started on his voice, as he reaches a deeper point, it matched the smooth and gentle mood the two of you had created.

you nodded, pecking the corner of his lips. "i loved you in that storage closet but i was too nervous to say it." just hearing your explanation had him chuckling and holding you even tighter against him.

as the two of you leaned back in once more, you both pause as you heard rounds of distant squealing coming from inside your house piercing through the calm air.

turning around, you were checking the windows again only to see your friends peaking through the blinds at you two, smiles and shocked gazes on all of their faces. and immediately you felt your entire body warm up.

you knew they'd react like this, your entire friend group was labeled as very dramatic. you knew the moment you walked back into those doors, they'd have pictures upon pictures and videos to show you, documenting every second they could of you and suna. the thought alone had butterflies swarming all around your stomach. but maybe reliving the moment through a different perspective didn't sound too bad.

you turn back to him, burying your face into his shoulder as you tried to hide from your friends' stares. but it wasn't doing much as you could still feel the heat of their eyes on you. "yeah, i clocked them a few minutes ago, but kissing you was a lot more important, you know?" he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, pulling you into a deep embrace. but that just caused more gasping and squealing from your friends. "guess we can tell them we're together now, hm? we can always start small."

"please...be quiet,"

<- previous part

it’s over!! let’s all pretend they told atsumu on their own time bc idk how to write it without it being cringe 💔

but thank you so much for reading!

now onto the next thing 😼

reblogs help a lot!!

[cartoondrawer]

☕️PaisleyAfterRedemptionAu Comic!☕️ Part 10!

(Last part, officially discontinued!)

Thank you guys for supporting me :)

RIP

Paisley After Redemption Au ❤️

[lorifragolina]

Bite the Bullet, Billy - Masterpost

Hello all! After working almost all the summer to this enormous fic (the longest and more complex I ever wrote!) for the @billybigbang2024 event, I want to present a tumblr masterpost for all the fic parts & the amazing art that @dirtbagdefender did for it! Take a moment to look at the poster:

Here you can find the whole fic in AO3!

Tumblr post with the art for each part: Bite the Bullet, Billy - chapter 1-6 Bite the Bullet, Billy - chapter 7-10

Bite the Bullet, Billy - chapter 11 - 15

Bite the Bullet, Billy - chapter 16 - 20 Bite the Bullet, Billy - chapter 21 - 26

Bite the Bullet, Billy - chapter 27 - 29 + Epilogue

This fic had been possible thanks to @talanashta, who beta reading my mess and help me to make it readable! I hope you all enjoy it!

[keen-li]

I agree with anon Renegade is very good👏🏼 I don’t consider Oc weak at all… she just had a baby and she took care of her all on her own (that takes a lot of strength and she did that!) just because she loves Jungkook it doesn’t make her weak… yeah he was a huge jerk but he seems like he had a change of heart and maybe they will talk about it afterwards? Who know but regardless I don’t see her weak at all!

You’re doing great❤️

Part 4. [Last part]

I'm so glad and appreciate all the positive interactions and asks I've gotten on this fic. It was a fun and lovely journey and I appreciate you all. :)

x

-

You've been worried on the couch waiting for jungkook to text you. He had yuna today, he begged you to have her for the day. You couldn't say no, you didn't want to. You enjoy seeing jungkook spent time with his daughter, it's a nice sight to see her laughing and giggling as he tickles her.

But you made it very clear to him that she should be back by 4pm. You'd never allow her to stay the night with him at his place. He may seem to have changed but you don't know what kinda dump his house looks like or the kinda people jungkook has around.

It's now 7pm and you've been waiting for jungkook to text or call you. Or atleast respond to your calls and texts. You've been calling like a hundred times and he doesn't respond,  this makes you even more worried and sick to your stomach. Your little baby girl, you hope she's okay. You hope jungkook hasn't got her passively inhaling smoke. You'd kill him if that was the case, you'd fucking kill him.

Your mind can't stop thinking of the worst. All you can think of is your sweet baby girl in a crowd of drunk people. The loud music playing hurting her ear drums, shes probably crying but jungkook can't hear her over the loud music. Aw you're little baby probably misses you so much.

"Has he responded?" Hobi asks you, snapping you out of your frantic thoughts.

You shake your head.

"Lets just go by his place" he suggests,  its not a bad idea. It's the only option you have anyways if you want to save your baby girl from jungkook.

So this what you do, hobi drives you to his place. You're pretty sure he still lives where you last left him.

"Stay here" you tell hoseok as you leave the car. He places a hand on yours before you leave.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you" his eyes soften.

"I'm sure hoseok" you smile warmly to him. "Please stay in the car"

You give him your back and he watches as you walk into the apartment building. He can't help but want to follow behind you. To be a protection for you and yuna.

You walk down the hallway looking at the doors for jungkook's apartment. You check the numbers and you're pretty sure you can remember it. How can you forget it when a year ago that's all you knew. At this point you had mastered the number, it was engraved on your brain.

The memories hit you like the wind. The times when jungkook would be pulling you by the hand to his apartment. One time you didn't even have time to admire the hallway cause you were busy tangling your lips with jungkook's.

You chuckle brushing off the memories, those days are gone now.

You wonder what you're going to see when you open jungkook's door. It doesn't sound like he's having a party but you still don't trust jungkook. You look at his door or knowing whether to knock or just type in the code. You aren't even sure if the code you know is gonna work.

You're not going to knock. So you decide to tap in the code and hope it works. Your hands move against the screen and you sigh when the little thing beeps allowing you to enter.

He seriously didn't change the code. You chuckle.

You open the door slightly as your leg move to walk in. You pull yourself in and when you do you're met with the sight of yuna sat on one of jungkook's female friend's lap, the girl from the bar. At least they aren't doing drugs or having a party, but that doesn't take away from the fact they are smoking and drinking.

You're gonna fucking kill him.

"Mama" yuna calls out when she sees you and stretches her cute little arms out.

"My baby" you rush over and grab her setting her over your hip.

"Are you okay baby" you say checking her body like a doctor. You give her a tight hug not noticing anything wrong with her.

"I missed you so much"

"No hellos" the girl on the couch asks you tone cheeky. You send her a death glare.

"I'm not here for you" you rock yuna in your arms. "Where's jungkook?"

Yuna doesn't look like she was crying.

"Y/n what are you doing here?" Jungkook asks walking into the living room.

"What am I doing here?" You retort. "I'm here to pick up my daughter. You didn't bring her at the appointed time so I got worried." You say angrily and eye his friends at the last sentence.

"Worried about what?" he furrows his brows.

"Worried that she might get sick" you lower your tone but still stay angry.

"And how would that happen" jungkook knows what you're implying but he wants you to say it.

"I don't know jungkook.. drugs? Alcohol? Smoke?" You say like it wasn't obvious.

He scoffs "You honestly think I'd expose her to that"

"I meannnnn" you wave your hand at his friends and the alcohol on his table, and his friend who is smoking.

"He's smoking by the window" jungkook defends.

"It doesn't matter" you yell getting frustrated.

"I don't like how you're talking about us y/n" the girl speaks and you roll your eyes.

"Shut the fuck up" You groan at her forgetting your no cussing infront of yuna rule. Your attention is pulled to the little girl in your arms when she starts to whine. You sigh disappointed that you got carried away.

"I'm not to talking to you here" you say to jungkook and turn to walk out.

"You've got a very beautiful daughter y/n" the girl speaks, she sounds genuine but yet so condescending.

You want to say something to her but jungkook's hand on your shoulder stops you.

"Come on" he closes the door and you head for outside.

"You couldn't call?" jungkook asks when the night air hits you.

"Like I didn't" you say sarcastically. "Check your phone" he does.

"Okay im sorry, my bad" he runs his hands through his hair, "I must've gotten carried away with work" you roll your eyes and turn to him.

"And where did you leave yuna?"

"With jess" You scoff.

"Jess? Jess the fucking walking hookah pipe" you spit.

"Don't say that" in other circumstances jungkook would've laughed at that.

"Plus yuna seemed fine"

"Seemed is not good enough jungkook. She could easily get sick"

"I know, I'm sorry. But you're making a big deal out of it." His voice rises a bit.

"Its always gonna be serious when it comes to my daughter"

Jungkook scoffs when you say it like she's not his daughter too.

"She's my daughter too" he whisper-shouts "Don't you think i care. I'm not gonna let anything harm her" you're taken back by his tone.

"Or maybe you just think so low of me" You roll your eyes at him.

"Huh?" You don't respond.

"Well can you blame us" you hear hoseok speak behind you, "your actions don't really help us see the better in you" you can hear the despise in his tone.

You can see jungkook physically gag and roll his eyes at hoseok. You too sigh knowing what's going to go down.

"You brought him? Y/n" jungkook asks in disbelief.

"I don't have a car remember?" You tell him as hoseok stops next to you.

"You're so fucking pitiful" jungkook says to hoseok "you're such a kiss up.why are you trying to have my leftovers" jungkook chuckles mockingly.

"Don't talk about her like that" hoseok wants to move closer to jungkook but you stop him,

"There's a baby here" you warn them both.

"She's never gonna love you bro"

"I'm not trying to get her to love me, maybe I'm just trying to be there for her... for yuna" hobi says sharply. "Cause you never did"

"Stay away from my daughter" jungkook warns and closes in on hoseok.

"Jungkook please" you stop him. And on cue yuna starts to cry and your heart breaks at how unattentive you were.

"Hoseok please take her back to the car" you say handing yuna to him. You Watch as hoseok rocks yuna and wipes her tears.

"Come here" jungkook says reaching for yuna.

"No" You stop him.

"Let me say bye to my daughter" he looks at you intensely.

"No." you say to him "hoseok go"

"What the fuck y/n let me say bye to my daughter"

"No jungkook, I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you!" you start to yell.

"Y/n" hoseok tries to comfort you.

"Hoseok please just go to the car!" You end up unintentionally yelling at him, you make a mental not to apologise later.

"What do you mean you're sick" jungkook asks getting upset.

"Im sick of you and having having daughter involved in your life" you run your hands over your face frustrated.

"There's never a time when she's with you and I'm not worried" you can feel the tears threaten to fall.

"Sometimes I wish you weren't in her life... our life" you can see the hurt in jungkook's eyes but it's soon replaced with confusion.

"haven't I done enough y/n. Haven't I done my best to be there for you guys" he places his hands on your shoulders.

"You have I know but-" the tears falls "I can never know if you've truly changed...I'm always worried" you sniffle.

"You don't trust me huh?" You can feel him distance himself. Both physically and emotionally.

"After everything I've done" he chuckles coldly.

You wipe your tears and calm yourself down.

"So what? What now?" He asks you coldly. "You're gonna take her away from me? You're gonna keep my own daughter from me?"He yells.

"THE DAUGHTER YOU DIDN'T WANT!" you smack his chest and he's taken aback by your loudness.

"The daughter you told me to get rid of. The daughter you didn't want to see when she was a foetus. The daughter you weren't there for." you spit back to back at him.

"But aren't I here, aren't i here y/n?" He pushes your hands to his chest.

"That's not what I'm talking about jungkook and you know it" you snatch your hands from him.

"Plus we never even talked about it. We just walked over it like it's nothing. "That's not how it's supposed to work"

"So why don't we talk about it, fix it" He pleads.

"It's too late for that jungkook"

"Okay" he gives in "but you're not gonna keep my daughter from me" he shakes his head and you say nothing.

"You can't do that"

"I can" you spit.

He chuckles bitterly.

"we're gonna have to take it to court then" he says plainly and you scoff.

"Let the court decide?" You ask mockingly.

"Yeah"

"Okay" you nod laughing "and we'll see what they'll say about a druggy alcoholic father asking for custody" you spit out sarcastically.

"Yeah we'll see" jungkook says like he's got a very good chance at custody.

Before you leave you turn to him. And with so much determination, digust and anger you give him a hard smack on the cheek.

"I am not your leftovers" you say bitterly "see you in court you piece of shit" you walk off and into hoseok's car.

"Are you okay" he asks you worried

"I'm okay" you tell him but its not convincing. "Is she okay?" You turn to the back seat a see a sleeping yuna in her car seat.

"Yeah. Rocked her a bit and she fell right asleep. Must've been really tired"

He watches you watch her.

"I'm so sorry baby" you rub her little feet.

"Yeah sorry, she picked a shitty dad" you hear hoseok snicker.

You can't even bother to be mad at him, you don't have the energy. You know he means no harm.

"Lets go home"

-

[8 months later]

"So how is everything between the two of you now"

Jungkook sighs folding his legs on his couch and you scoff at his choice of clothing. You'd never expect to see jungkook in formal wear.

"We've been okay" he speaks eyeing your floral dress and heels. You told him you wanted to get into wearing heels again, but he didn't promise on carrying you if something happened.

It's your first therapy session after the court granted you both equal custody. Amd cause of that you and jungkook decided to attend therapy.

"And as a couple how are things"

"We're not a couple" you both say at the same time, laughing when you do so.

"We're co-parenting" you quickly say to lessen the awkwardness for the therapist.

"Oh my apologies"

"It's alright, I'm pretty sure people who walk in here are usually couples anyways" jungkook also tries to ease the awkwardness.

The therapist simply nods at that. Your lawyers had advised you to maybe attend a parenting therapy. Not to fix the both of you, cause that's far gone, but to help you both parent yuna well.

"We're just here to learn how to co-parent" you add smiling at jungkook.

-

"That session went well" you say walking out of the building.

"Surprisingly, I thought I was gonna hate it"

You hum as the afternoon sun hits you.

"You've got yuna tonight right?" You ask him.

"i thought you had her" he asks confused.

"I know but I was hoping you can have her" you plead. "You don't have anything to do right?"

"I don't. But why?"

You sigh having to explain to him.

"Hoseok and I have plans tonight" you bite your bottom lip waiting for his reaction.

Jungkook's face relaxes. "Oh okay, sure I'll watch her. I don't mind"

You sigh. you thought he wouldn't say yes.

"Thanks you're the best" you give him a giddy smile, you wanted to hug him but you didn't know how he'd take it.

Jungkook watches you hoping you'd hug him but maybe it's too early for that.

"I know I'm the best" he says full of himself.

"Shut up" You laugh.

----

MASTERLIST