#also do they have jobs?? how do they work jobs from the van?? do they eat? do they have to? how do they afford food if they cant work??

[frillydolle]

not sure if you're still taking requests but low honor arthur morgan with a new/relatively new gang member who reminds him of mary? (this might be a self insert bc i got the same mole on my cheek that mary has help im going insane for this man

low honour arthur morgan x nervous female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ slight angst at the start , come onn u remind him of mary , super cute and sweet by the end!!

he didn't talk to u. well, he did, but barely. he'd talk to u only if he needed to, and u had no idea why. u didn't do anything wrong, did u? well, u weren't in all the action, but u were a helpful girl within the camp grounds, u even didn't get upset if ms. grinshaw was giving u trouble!

he'd stare at u, and if u catch him, he'd look away almost immediately. but u weren't sure if his gaze was of annoyance, or disappointment, maybe more... longing? heartbroken? u would go up to him but u just didn't know what to say, u know? he was in and out of camp time and again. although, u were determined to talk to him even if u were very intimidated by him.

he couldn't believe it. he couldn't believe how much u reminded him of mary and he hated it. sometimes late at night he still yearns for her, just to touch her once more, to feel her soft skin against his rough skin, to smell the wealthy perfume that she always used just once last time. but he knew he couldn't go back like that, they ended for a reason and grew a sort of resentment for that whole situation between them.

u were kind. he knew that, maybe, too kind. u were nothing like mary, really. there were even times u brought him a coffee with a nervous “for you, mr morgan.” that would leave ur lips, and he hum softly as a thank u, still seeing mary linton than yourself. or u would give him a bowl of stew with a small “there you go, mr morgan.” he didn't have anything against u either. he knew how hard u worked.

he was just back from doing a job in dutch's favour, it was easy, of course. nothing could kill the big, burly man they call arthur morgan. maybe a few o'driscolls but that's nothing for van der linde's most trusted associate. he's sitting on the edge of hid cot, head down into his journal as he writes another page about u. if invaded some people might think he's sweet on u but he really couldn't handle how u looked so much like her. that identical mole on ur cheek didn't make his feelings any better.

“... mr morgan?”

“evenin'.”

it was u. of course, it had to be u. he looked up and there u stood, wearing a white blouse that paired perfectly with ur light dusty pink skirt, u were also holding a rifle... why? why are u holding a rifle? what the hell do you have planned-

“why the hell do ya have a-” “for you! its for you... i overheard that u didn't find a rifle yesterday and while u were out.. i- i bought one for you. its nothin', really-” oh, u looked so anxious under his intense gaze and he didn't feel a little guilty about it, knowing that u had no idea about his past love life and he knew it wasn't ur fault at all. but he quickly pushed the guilt away.

u saw his gaze soften just slightly, realising that u bought a gun for him as u heard him complain about not finding one, and to maybe ease the one sided tension between the two of u.

“well, ain't u a sweetheart? thanks, sugar'.” “i just wanted to... i wanted to make your huntin' a little easier.” what a silly lie, u thought. u really just wanted him to talk to u a little more. but u smiled just a little bit, hearing a chuckle leaves his lips from ur words.

“maybe i should take ya with me someday.. would ya want that, dollface?”

“...'course, mr morgan.”

[wyervan]

Do any of the other characters (besides Gregory and cassie) exist in the slasher universe? Or is it just sun and moon ?

Of the other characters from Security Breach and FNaF in general, Sun and Moon interact with DJ most often. He makes a living, you guessed it, deejaying for a local joint and small events like weddings and school dances. DJ also helps the guys out with arcade cabinet maintenance. He’s a big nerd about them. Drives around a big mystery machine-esque van with all his gear and tools.

The glamrocks are a local band (that also have day jobs) from around the area. Sun is a big fan, would die happy if they said yes to playing at the arcade for a night. I adore the idea of Sun and Chica becoming friends! He takes one of her aerobics classes at a local gym.

Bonnie used to be a band member, before the drama with Monty happened. Teaches elementary music.

Yes and we’ve already met Gregory and Cassie, local kids who frequent the arcade. Gregory gives Moon a run for his money on the high score charts for many games, but will spend hours fixated on the claw machine.

Vanessa’s a local cop (no points for creativity there lol). y/n Star will be seeing quite a bit of her with the disappearances that have been happening around the area… she makes Sun nervous for obvious reasons and Moon doesn’t play well with the po.

Mmm… and there are others… whomst will be revealed later… still working out a lotta details of how they all fit together.

[drdemonprince]

The data does not support the assumption that all burned out people can “recover.” And when we fully appreciate what burnout signals in the body, and where it comes from on a social, economic, and psychological level, it should become clear to us that there’s nothing beneficial in returning to an unsustainable status quo. 

The term “burned out” is sometimes used to simply mean “stressed” or “tired,” and many organizations benefit from framing the condition in such light terms. Short-term, casual burnout (like you might get after one particularly stressful work deadline, or following final exams) has a positive prognosis: within three months of enjoying a reduced workload and increased time for rest and leisure, 80% of mildly burned-out workers are able to make a full return to their jobs. 

But there’s a lot of unanswered questions lurking behind this happy statistic. For instance, how many workers in this economy actually have the ability to take three months off work to focus on burnout recovery? What happens if a mildly burnt-out person does not get that rest, and has to keep toiling away as more deadlines pile up? And what is the point of returning to work if the job is going to remain as grueling and uncontrollable as it was when it first burned the worker out? 

Burnout that is not treated swiftly can become far more severe. Clinical psychologist and burnout expert Arno van Dam writes that when left unattended (or forcibly pushed through), mild burnout can metastasize into clinical burnout, which the International Classification of Diseases defines as feelings of energy depletion, increased mental distance, and a reduced sense of personal agency. Clinically burned-out people are not only tired, they also feel detached from other people and no longer in control of their lives, in other words.

Unfortunately, clinical burnout has quite a dismal trajectory. Multiple studies by van Dam and others have found that clinical burnout sufferers may require a year or more of rest following treatment before they can feel better, and that some of burnout’s lingering effects don’t go away easily, if at all. 

In one study conducted by Anita Eskildsen, for example, burnout sufferers continued to show memory and processing speed declines one year after burnout. Their cognitive processing skills improved slightly since seeking treatment, but the experience of having been burnt out had still left them operating significantly below their non-burned-out peers or their prior self, with no signs of bouncing back. 

It took two years for subjects in one of van Dam’s studies to return to “normal” levels of involvement and competence at work. following an incident of clinical burnout. However, even after a multi-year recovery period they still performed worse than the non-burned-out control group on a cognitive task designed to test their planning and preparation abilities. Though they no longer qualified as clinically burned out, former burnout sufferers still reported greater exhaustion, fatigue, depression, and distress than controls.

In his review of the scientific literature, van Dam reports that anywhere from 25% to 50% of clinical burnout sufferers do not make a full recovery even four years after their illness. Studies generally find that burnout sufferers make most of their mental and physical health gains in the first year after treatment, but continue to underperform on neuropsychological tests for many years afterward, compared to control subjects who were never burned out. 

People who have experienced burnout report worse memories, slower reaction times, less attentiveness, lower motivation, greater exhaustion, reduced work capability, and more negative health symptoms, long after their period of overwork has stopped. It’s as if burnout sufferers have fallen off their previous life trajectory, and cannot ever climb fully back up. 

And that’s just among the people who receive some kind of treatment for their burnout and have the opportunity to rest. I found one study that followed burned-out teachers for seven years and reported over 14% of them remained highly burnt-out the entire time. These teachers continued feeling depersonalized, emotionally drained, ineffective, dizzy, sick to their stomachs, and desperate to leave their jobs for the better part of a decade. But they kept working in spite of it (or more likely, from a lack of other options), lowering their odds of ever healing all the while. 

Van Dam observes that clinical burnout patients tend to suffer from an excess of perseverance, rather than the opposite: “Patients with clinical burnout…report that they ignored stress symptoms for several years,” he writes. ��Living a stressful life was a normal condition for them. Some were not even aware of the stressfulness of their lives, until they collapsed.”

Instead of seeking help for workplace problems or reducing their workload, as most people do, clinical burnout sufferers typically push themselves through unpleasant circumstances and avoid asking for help. They’re also less likely to give up when placed under frustrating circumstances, instead throttling the gas in hopes that their problems can be fixed with extra effort. They become hyperactive, unable to rest or enjoy holidays, their bodies wired to treat work as the solution to every problem. It is only after living at this unrelenting pace for years that they tumble into severe burnout. 

Among both masked Autistics and overworked employees, the people most likely to reach catastrophic, body-breaking levels of burnout are the people most primed to ignore their own physical boundaries for as long as possible. Clinical burnout sufferers work far past the point that virtually anyone else would ask for help, take a break, or stop caring about their work.

And when viewed from this perspective, we can see burnout as the saving grace of the compulsive workaholic — and the path to liberation for the masked disabled person who has nearly killed themselves trying to pass as a diligent worker bee. 

I wrote about the latest data on burnout "recovery," and the similarities and differences between Autistic burnout and conventional clinical burnout. The full piece is free to read or have narrated to you in the Substack app at drdevonprice.substack.com

[english-history-trip]

Ever see a depiction of St. George and the Dragon? It's pretty fair to say if you've seen one, you've seen them all: Georgie on a horse stabbing a flailing dragon creature, princess piously kneeling in the background, vague landscape alluding to the homeland of the artist's patron.

The most varied part is the dragons. No one had a real definition for the thing, it seemed. For your pleasure and entertainment, I have ranked some medieval depictions based on how impressive George's feat seems once you see the dragon.

Paolo Uccello, 1456

This is a terrifying beast. The hell is that. Uccello was one of the first experimenters with perspective, so the thing also looks surreal, like it's taking place on Mars, or a Windows 95 screensaver. I would not want to fight that, I would not want to be tied to that. (Sometimes the princess is tied to the dragon for some reason.) 10/10

Horse thoughts: Maybe if I look at the ground it will be gone when I look up

Unknown artist, c. 1505

This is a rare change of form for the dragon; it's the only one I've seen actually flying (or at least falling with style). It doesn't look particularly deterred by the spear through its throat, either. Also, George looks appropriately nervous. On the other hand, it hasn't got teeth, it seems to be fuzzy rather than having scaly armor, and George is bolstered by his army of Henry VII and his children, most of whom definitely didn't actually die in infancy. Still, wouldn't want to fight it, wouldn't want my pet sheep near it. (Sometimes the princess has a pet sheep for some reason.) 9/10

Horse thoughts: I am so glad I wore my mightiest feather helmet for this

Raphael, 1505

We are coming to Dragons With Problems. This guy looks about comparable in size to George, and does have wings, but doesn't seem to be using these things to his advantage (and has he only got one wing?) And how does he deal with the neck? He does have a comically small head, but holding it up with such a twisty neck seems complicated at best. But most egregiously, he is doing the shitty superheroine pose where he is somehow simultaneously showcasing his chest and his butt, with its unnecessarily defined butthole (more on this later) (regrettably). 8/10 bc it's Raphael

Horse thoughts: AM I THE BESTEST BOI? AM I DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB? WE R DRAGON SLAYING BUDDIEZ

The Beauchamp Hours, c. 1401

We had a spirited debate about this one at work. Again, the dragon has gotten smaller, and this one hasn't got even one wing. He's basically a crocodile. So the debate became: would you want to fight a crocodile if you had a horse and a pointy stick? Would the horse trample the animal, who can't get on its hind legs, or freak out and throw its rider? Would the pointy stick be enough to pierce the croc's thick hide? In this case, George seems to be controlling his horse and putting his pointy stick in the dragon's weak spot, so we can be impressed by his skill and strategy. However, his hat is dumb. 7/10

Horse thoughts: Dehhhh

Book of Hours, c. 1480

Here we have the same kind of croco-dragon, but George's focus on his strategy has gone out the window. He's flailing around, not even looking at his target, he's about to lose his pointy stick, he hasn't got a hand on the reins, and his sword seems to only be poking the invisible dragon over his shoulder. All he's got going for him is that his hat is slightly less dumb. 6/10

Horse thoughts: Yay, new friend! Come play with me, new fr- what is happening

Final dragons put behind this Read More for your safety:

Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1432

I'm thinking this guy is at least semi-aquatic. Webbed feet, wings that seem more like fins, bipedal but top-heavy, jaws that seem more for scooping than biting. Maybe she's crawled up here from the nearby body of water to lay her eggs, and this is all a big misunderstanding. Moreover, George's dagged sleeves seem entirely impractical for the situation. 5/10

Horse thoughts: i got my hed stuk in a jar and now it is this way forever

Unknown artist, c. 15th century

I hate this. I hate everything about it. Why has it got human eyes and teeth. Why is its nose melting. Why has it got a dick on its face and balls under its chin. The fin/wings are back but they look even more useless. Also, George is shifty as hell, schlumped over in his saddle with his bowler hat thing over his eyes. The baby dragon at the bottom eating some hapless would-be rescuer is kind of metal. 4/10 at least the thing is gonna die

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Crack

Book of Hours, c. 1450

Remember what I said about the buttholes? First, sorry. Second, yeah, we're back to that. I'll admit this one is less about the danger from the dragon itself than the very specific choices the artist has made. They didn't need to do that. It's a lizard. They don't even have. And it's like they had an orifice budget and they skipped an exit wound for the spear to focus. Elsewhere. It's so detailed. And George had an even dumber hat. 2/10 take it away

Horse thoughts: I Have Smoked So Much Weed

Book of Hours, c. 1415

This is just bullying. There isn't even a princess. That is clearly an infant. Look at that smug look on George's face as he swings his sword that's bigger than the whole little guy. This is the equivalent of when DJT Jr. hunted those sleeping endangered sheep. 1/10

Horse thoughts: ....yikes

And this is the previous one, but now the baby dragon is cute. He's chubby. He's got toe beans. He's Puff the Magic Dragon. His eyes have already gone white, implying that George is just kicking its corpse around for funsies. What's the difference between the dragon and the lamb in the background? That the dragon is dead, like our innocence. This George is truly deserving of the dumbest hat of all. 0/10 plus one more butthole for the road

Horse thoughts: Perhaps it is we who are the buttholes.

[defmaybe]

Anatomy of a Farewell

12 Days of Christmas: Day 7, December 31st, 2024

fromis_9’s Park Jiwon x Male Reader

3.6k words

Christmas Masterlist

All good things must come to an end.

So is fromis_9 and your time with them, especially Jiwon.

“Cheers to us!” Saerom shouts, as she lifts her glass up for a toast. Everyone at the table joins in. It’s sad, really. It’s your last day to be officially together—the New Year’s Eve of 2024—and you can only hope that the wind of fate will somehow make your paths cross again.

So, what’s next?

You’ve been here for a few years already, from an intern to a boss. It has been a great experience for you, and now it’s coming to an end. Your future is uncertain again. Maybe Woollim? Maybe WakeOne? Maybe HYBE again? You aren’t so sure, and thinking about it only puts a burden on you.

You’re sitting on the outside of the bar, contemplating your life choices with a glass of beer in your hand. The December wind blows through the air, so—cold, dry, like every December before it.

“Hey.” A sound comes from your back. It’s Jiwon, a glass of beer in her hand. A faint smile is painted on her face.

“Hey,” you reply, taking a sip of your beer. It’s so quiet out here.

“You good?” she asks, sitting down beside you. Her right arm brushes slightly against yours.

“Well, you know, farewell sorrow and stuff,” you answer, chuckling softly at your predicament. You’ll have to find a new job after this, but for the last few years here, it has been worth it.

“Me too,” she says. It must be sad for her, suddenly saying goodbye to the women who’ve been with her for the last half decade or so.

You two let the silence linger in the air for a few more heartbeats, unsure of what to say next. You glance around you. There’s Jiwon. There’s a parking van, your company’s van, to be exact. There are trees. There's sadness building up inside you. There’s–

“I’ll miss them a lot, like, a fucking lot.”

You look at Jiwon again, your chin resting on your fist, trying to be her solace. It has been working so far.

“Yeah, it’s–hard,” you say. That’s the best sequence of words you could come up with, and it’s not bad, really. “You might still see them around, at least.”

Jiwon chuckles. “Yeah, I might.”

The concept of departure isn’t exactly new to you. You’ve had people leave you in the past before. It takes a few times to get used to it, really. But after that? It’s so much, much easier for you to accept your fate.

“So, what are you going to do next?” you ask, trying to continue the conversation. You want it to go on, at least you do. Despite how you’re so used to people’s departure, with Jiwon, it feels–different.

“Hmm.” She contemplates. You think she can easily have an acting career after this. You’ve seen her act before. She does it pretty well. Maybe she might star along Gyuri, one day.

“Modelling, maybe?” she says. That also works. Yeah, with a body like her, she definitely can do that.

“Seems sensible for you.”

She chuckles softly. “Thanks. What about you? Are you staying at HYBE?”

“Uh, I don’t know, really. I got the offer from a few places already, but I don’t know where I should go next,” you reply, shrugging. That WakeOne offer seems lucrative, could help your family.

“Where is it? Tell me!” she asks, smiling. She nudges you gently with her arm. But under this intoxication, you almost fall over. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Haiya!” you utter.

“Oh my god, sorry!” Jiwon holds you back in time. You’re not losing your balance yet.

“Well–” you pick yourself straight up again, brushing off the dust on your coat “–there’s Woollim, there’s WakeOne, and uh–there’s HYBE.”

Jiwon raises her eyebrows. “I can see someone like you working with Kep1er, though. HYBE sucks, like–look at us.”

You and Jiwon share a laugh in your predicaments. Yeah, HYBE sucks for you two—too few comebacks, too little promotions.

It has always been fun talking to Jiwon like this. You’d argue that Jiheon has been the closest to you, same age and all, but with Jiwon, it feels–different. It’s something you can’t quite describe.

The laughter then transitions into the silence lingers on for a few seconds more. The two of you don’t know what to say next. It happens sometimes. Still, with her, you feel safe, you feel happy.

“Maybe I should head back inside,” she finally says, smiling softly. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

—

The night rolls on. One beer, two beers, three beers. Every single one of you is getting more and more intoxicated, so are you and Jiwon. 

Your eyes keep making contact with each other. With each time, you swear that attraction starts to build up. You’ve felt nothing like this towards her. She has never been more than a co-worker to you.

Is there something going on?

You excuse yourself to the bathroom for the umpteenth time tonight, hoping to make the intoxication subside (it won’t subside). You open the bathroom door, wash your face, and set your hair. Then, as you look up from the sink, Jiwon appears in the mirror from behind you.

“Fuck, you’re scaring me, Jiwon,” you say, as Jiwon appears to be chuckling behind you.

“Sorry,” she replies. “Just wanna ask you something.”

“Oh, sure.”

Jiwon looks away from you, trying to form the right words. “So, I’d like to ask you–if I could stay at your place–tonight.”

Aren’t they supposed to have a driver? What is happening?

“Uh, I thought you guys had a driver?” you ask, puzzled, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Well, the problem is that–” she pauses, giving way to the silence as she moves closer to you, her breath is on your neck. Her right hand touches the small of your back softly, making you shudder “–except for Saerom, I can’t let anyone know I’m staying with you.”

“Oh.”

��

“Hmmph, you smell–hmm–so fucking good,” she says, peppering kisses on your neck. Her lips feel so soft. Her thighs are locking your body in your place. You can’t move, but you’re more than happy being under her restraints like this.

“It’s Yves Saint’s Libre.”

She retreats from peppering kisses on your neck with a puzzled expression. “Women’s perfume, really?”

You chuckle. “I mean–it smells good. You even said that!”

“Fair.” She shrugs dismissively before diving onto your neck again. Your body shudders in response from the pleasure and the low temperature of the room. Her hands wander around your body possessively, trying to claim you as hers (you’re already hers). She smells so good. It’s probably La Vie Est Belle, the same one your sister uses. There’s a bit of alcohol in her scent.

“Mmm, y–you also smell g–good, Jiwon,” you mutter, struggling to get the words out under this immense pleasure.

“Mmph, thanks! It’s–”

“La Vie Est Belle. Yeah, my sister uses it.”

Jiwon lets out a chuckle, clearly satisfied with your knowledge. She then pushes you onto the bed, making you land with a soft thud. It’s game time for her.

“Would you mind turning on the heater?” she asks, slightly shivering, as she dives onto your neck to plant the kisses.

“S–Sure.”

You reach for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the heater. Her lips remain busy, placing kisses on your neck. She starts to strip herself of the restrictive clothes, embracing the warmth from your heater. She unbuttons her coat (it’s a little too big for her, if you’d have to add), revealing the red blouse under. Her cleavage is showing off nicely by the collar. God, she looks so great.

“Can I?” you ask her for permission to touch her chest. She looks so damn tempting, and you just couldn’t resist it.

“Go ahead,” she allows, mouth still busy on your neck somehow.

You reach out to touch her small, firm breasts that are hanging in front of you. You figure that they’re soft to the touch. They just fit in your hand. She’s perfect, and you decide to give her breasts a squeeze.

“Hmm, just like that,” she whimpers, pulling back from your neck to allow you easier access to her confined tits. Her body arches back slightly. Her blouse lifts a little to show the small of her toned tummy. 

You give her breasts the treatment they deserve—grab, squeeze, knead. You’re making her moan in pure pleasure. She loves this.

“Mmm, fuckkk~” she groans. Her body vibrates under your touch. You’re revelling in the way she’s becoming undone like this. You’re revelling in the way her breasts feel in your hands. She’s so pliant, so yours.

“Baby,” Jiwon says, voice all airy from the bliss.

“Yes?” Your hands are still kneading her breasts softly

“I want–no–I need you inside me. Now.”

You giggle, quickly taking off your coat to make it equal. “No foreplay?”

“Me kissing your neck and you grabbing my tits are enough foreplay, baby,” she answers. Her voice is so light, so airy, so diluted. “I’m already fucking wet.”

You look into her eyes. They’re gleaming with unbridled desire. She wants this. She needs this. She needs you.

“Oh, s–sure,” you answer awkwardly before hastily unbuckling your belt. Your pants come off easily, and then there’s only your tight boxers left.

“Would you mind?” you ask, wanting her to be your guest in taking the last barrier off.

“Sure, why not?” she scoffs, before she grabs the edge of your underwear, teasing you, making you want more. She runs her thumbs along your waist, making you groan in the looming disappointment.

“God, thought you want me inside you,” you moan. She’s such a fucking cocktease.

“Just wanna hear you moan first” she replies, snaking her right hand under the piece of cloth. She brushes against your throbbing cock softly, making you moan to her wish.

“G–Goddd~” Your eyes flutter in ecstasy. Pleasure is coursing through you. It’s electric.

Jiwon giggles, before finally pulling your boxers down to your ankles, freeing your cock from its confinement. Your legs shiver from the still-cold air of the room. It hasn’t gotten much warmer yet.

“Already hard?” she playfully asks, softly flicking your shaft.

“Just for you.”

Jiwon lets out another laugh, clearly satisfied with your witty response. “Good answer.”

A smile escapes your lips, as Jiwon is still watching your cock with wonder. She really loves it, doesn’t she?

“So–” you reach out for her chin, tilting her face up slightly to meet your eyes. She looks nothing short of ethereal tonight under your dim room light. What a woman “–what are you going to do with me?”

Jiwon smiles. “Wait a second, dumbass. Can’t I just admire him for a bit?” Her eyes go back to watching your cock intently.

“Not after you promised me a ride, Jiwon,” you reply. You have needs too, and it’s currently not being sated.

“I’m not good with promise,” she says, giggling, and you can’t help but smile at her response. She then gets up into a sitting position again, tying her hair into a bun. Holy fuck, she looks so hot with that hair. 

“Please,” you utter. You really want this. You really want her.

“Please what, baby?” she playfully asks, drawing a line on your shirt. You’re quivering under her touch.

“J–Just fuck me already, Jiwon,” you answer shakenly. You’re in dire need of her pussy now.

Jiwon smiles before unbuttoning her jeans and sliding it down, revealing her drenched panties underneath. She looks so tantalizing.

“Fuck, this is cold,” she says, crossing her arms.

“Want me to be on top?”

“But you’ll get cold!” she says, concerned about your wellbeing. What a kind woman.

“I have to be a good host.”

“And I have to be a good guest!” she replies sternly. She’s so adamant about this, isn’t she?

“Get down here then, Jiwon,” you say, gesturing to her to lie on your bed. She reluctantly complies, hesitating, still worrying if you’d feel cold.

But you already have other plans.

You carefully have her lying down on your bed next to you, on her side. You take off her wet panties, slowly, rewarding you with a light, small moan and the view of her wet pussy. You then lift her leg to rest on your thighs. It’s for easy access to her cunt.

“You really are a good host,” she says, a smile forms on her gorgeous face.

“Thanks.”

You line up your needy cock with her puffy cunt, ready to fuck her properly. You look into her eyes, and there’s nothing but desire. No anxiety. No apprehension. No second thoughts. She’s ready.

“Fuck me.”

With that, you thrust your hips into her wanton pussy. Her body shrieks in pleasure and a slight tinge of pain. Your cock is stretching her out wide. She feels great, so tight, so right. Her inner walls are grazing your cock, making you moan in unbridled joy.

“Goddd~” you moan. You’re feeling so ecstatic with her pussy wrapping around you. Then, there’s the clapping of your thighs. There’s her airy moans. There’s her gleeful expression. You love this. You love the way you make her moan. You love the way you’re feeling right now.

“You feel so good, baby. So big, so thick,” Jiwon groans, eyes closed with the boiling pleasure. Her hands hug around you ever so tightly, not wanting to lose you into the cold of the night. 

“Ha–th–thanks, Jiwon,” you reply, stuttering. You just cannot handle the feeling that’s coursing through you right now.

Jiwon’s expression is nothing short of pure bliss—the closed eyes, the smile, the slightly arched eyebrows. She’s enjoying this. She’s enjoying your cock inside her.

You continue to slowly slide in and out of her needy pussy, enamored in the feeling of her walls hugging around your cock. Electricity shoots through your body. It feels great. She feels great—the warmth, the smell, the sound. She’s perfect.

You finally catch the tempo of fucking her folds, so you start to quicken your pace by a little. Her moans become shorter and shorter. She’s losing herself around your cock.

Jiwon bites her lip, finally opens her eyes. She looks up at you with pure lust in her pupils, and you swear that this is the most beautiful she has ever looked—in your tight embrace, on your bed, biting her own soft lip.

“Mmm, fucking love this cock,” she utters without any shame, leaning in to plant a soft peck on your forehead. Warmth emanates from the spot. It feels good.

“Love your pussy too, baby,” you say, making her laugh in your embrace. 

She then leans in slightly closer, staring into your eyes. Is she going to–

“I–I–” Jiwon stutters. Her train of thoughts are derailed under the pleasure you’re giving her. You feel too good.

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You let the question hang in the air for a few seconds, drawing the tension, dragging the answer, making her restless.

“I’m already inside you, so–make that what you will,” you reply to her with a soft chuckle. Your hips are rocking into her pussy gently, trying not to hurt her.

Jiwon laughs. “No, I mean–fucking just doesn’t have enough emotions as kissing!”

“Kissing is just tongue though,” you deflect, protecting your point. She does have a point, at least, just not as strong as yours.

“Look at doggy,” she brings up her point. “You don’t have to look at each other, making it less intimate, a lot less.”

That makes sense. She just won her debate against you.

“Well, it seems that you’ve won, Miss Park.” You giggle, nibbling her chin softly. “Guess you can kiss me on the lips.”

Jiwon’s face lights up with a smile, before latching her lips on yours. The kiss is fervent. The kiss is passionate. She invades your mouth aggressively, a contradiction to the slow love making below your belts. Her grip on your face is tight. She doesn’t want to let you go.

Her lips taste like beer. It still lingers inside her mouth as you pierce her mouth with your tongue. You suppose yours probably taste the same. The kiss still feels electric, indeed. Jiwon lets out soft moans and whimpers into the kiss. God, what a feeling.

Her right hand then travels below your belt, smacking your plump ass. Your body jolts in response to the violent hit. She lets out a giggle.

Finally, she pulls back from the kiss. Your hips are still rocking down below, pounding her cunt with softness. Her face is all flushed, so enamored in the kiss.

“That felt great,” she says, a smile painting on her ethereal face.

“Me too, baby,”

Jiwon chuckles at the pet name, before starting to moan again. Her mouth is agape. Her eyes are barely open.

“Y–You’re so big, baby,” she utters.

“I–I’d argue that it’s p–pretty average, Jiwon.”

She shoots you a warm smile. “Don’t downplay yourself! Be proud of your size, alright?” Jiwon encourages you, and you can’t help but laugh at her words.

“O–Okay, Jiwon.”

You up your tempo into another ante. It has become a hammering session now. The sounds of smacking flesh echoes through your room. Sweat starts to form on both of your foreheads. Jiwon’s eyes are fluttering. She’s enjoying this.

“F–Fuckkk~” Jiwon moans, airy, diluted. Your hands wander down to her caged pert breasts, feeling them bounce in your hand. Jiwon lets out stuttered whimpers at your touch. She still feels so soft, so perfect in your hands.

“S–So good, baby,” she whimpers. She’s loving this.

“Glad I can be of help, babe,” you reply, eliciting a shaken laugh out of her lips.

The feeling around your cock is nothing short of ecstatic. Your moans are full of unpacked joy. Your cock fits into her pussy so perfectly. Her tight walls are trying to coax that white, viscous nectar out of your slit.

Her grips on your face grow tighter. Her moans become more frantic. Her breathing becomes ragged. Her muscles tense. She’s going to cum.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, baby,” Jiwon moans, as you pound her pussy with reckless abandon.

You realized that your grips on her face also become tighter and tighter as seconds go by. Your motion becomes more and more erratic down there. You’re chasing your own orgasm. You’re going to cum.

“M–Me too, babe,” you utter, so lost in the boiling pleasure.

Jiwon then pulls you into another fiery kiss. Her lips still taste like beer, but you swear that it’s like an aphrodisiac to you. Her tongue finds its way into your mouth dextrously, sweeping the insides of your mouth. Her right hand gives your ass another slap, making your whole body shudder in response. Your hands wander towards her small, firm chest, giving them a light squeeze. She moans as a reply to your touch.

Her breathing becomes faster and faster. You figure that she’s going to cum, and so are you. The all-too-familiar feeling is building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her.

“G–Gonna cum,” Jiwon utters into the kiss. Her tongue fights yours for dominance.

“Can I–Can I cum inside you?” you ask, slightly hoping for a yes.

“I–I’m on the p–pill, go ahead, baby,” she answers, and that’s a go for you to ram into her cunt with reckless abandon. The sound of your fleshes smacking rings through the room. The room reeks of sex in this December air.

You pull back from the sensual kiss to watch her flushed face. She’s moaning. Her eyes are barely opening, fluttering in ecstasy. She loves this. She loves having your cock pounding her pussy like this.

“Th–Thanks for e–everything,” you say. Your orgasm draws near.

“M–Me too, baby.”

She’s the first to let go. Gushes of torrent are discharged out of her pussy onto you, dripping onto your bed. Her walls contract around your cock. She cries out in pure bliss. Good thing that these walls are thick.

You follow suit. Your cock shoots spurts of cum into her wanton cavern, painting her insides white. Your hips buck harshly into her. You take a deep breath as you cum. Fuck, what a feeling.

Jiwon pulls you into another kiss, invading your mouth with adeptness. Her right hand presses onto your ass, wanting you to bury your cock inside her. She moans and moans into the kiss. The sound of the wet smooches and your moans ring inside your ears.

Inevitably, your orgasms die down. Violent shots of cum turn into drizzles out of your slit. Your sheets are all wet from her nectar. Both of you are panting—tired.

The two of you lie down on the bed on your sides—exhausted, spent, satisfied. Your bodies are all flushed with red. You’re watching her glowing in the post-debauchery bliss. She looks so good. You can’t let this go. You just can’t.

“Wanna do this again?” It’s one of the best sex you’ve ever had, and you can’t just let it slip past your hands so easily.

“Well–” she tucks her hair behind her ear, looking at you as she chuckles “–definitely, maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘Definitely, maybe’?”

Jiwon laughs, covering her mouth. “Just a movie reference, don’t worry,” she says, patting your shoulder. She looks so gorgeous like this.

“We’re definitely fucking again, no maybes.”

—

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey i was wondering if itd be cool if i drew your abortion road trip lovers? and if it is cool do you have physical descriptions for them or general vibes or can i just make shit up?

lmaooooo @birdy-brained and I came up with whole character concepts for them, there's not a LOT in the way of physical descriptors but these are the vibes as I've been imagining them

Lids (he/him)

pregnant (uh oh)

5 foot nothing on a good day

hoped that T would give him a beard but he's got two (2) chin hairs

likes tattoos but doesn't have any cause he's Scared of needles (does his T in gel form)

pocketknife collection

wears a lot of ripped jeans + Don't Look At Me hoodies

fun patches though

acne

lives in a queer housing co-op from hell

can't drive

ANXIETY!!!!!

works as a 24/7 gas station cashier (hates it but kind of loves it)

Buck (they/them)

the sperm donor (rip)

6 foot two inches+

long hair (either wears it loose or a messy half bun) + mustache + short beard

covered in shitty tattoos; does stick and pokes as a side hustle

playing acoustic guitar in the coffee shop

dresses like a thrift store fucked a ren fair

likes big skirts

smudged eyeliner + chipped nail polish

lives with their former bandmates who tried to be a polycule then broke up and now they're not a band anymore :/

van friend

lethally chill. like, kind of pisses people off with how chill they are? please stand up for yourself, Buck.

has like five side hustles and 0 regular job

they fucked at a house show; they were both there because Lids' housemate's metamour's sister's boyfriend's college roommate was playing and Buck is friends with the college roommate.

anyway you absolutely 100% don't have to draw them like this, it's nowhere in the actual post and you're so free to imagine them however you want!! I strongly encourage that, this is just how the characters have shaped up for me since I first wrote the idea down lmao

also I'm tagging this as "abort mission" because that's what my housemate and I started calling the idea

[reiderwriter]

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 

“Turn around.” 

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 

xxxxx 

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 

A girl could dream. 

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?” 

“I don't hit women.” 

“And I do? Emily, wha-” 

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 

“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 

“Y/N, put it down.” 

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 

“I can tell.” 

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 

“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 

[moonstruckme]

It's me once again! Bothering you twice in a day, I'm annoying like that, ha just kidding. But yes James is soooo wholesome, it's crazy how he became my favorite boy. So Mae, I suppose you are super busy because being such amazing writer is no easy job when you have requests coming all the time but, if you have the time, whenever that is, could you write something about James? Like James being so wholesome, the best boyfriend, the fluffiest thing you can think of, maybe something with words or affirmation and kisses and hugs and just very lovely things, feel like I need that. If you can of course.

Hope you are having a very cool weekend and my username is basically my favorite colors and it has something to do with Van Gogh and my favorite singer but this kid knows something, haha it's so funny, kind of serendipitous if you ask me :) love that. Well, I'm going to set you free, read you soon.

P.S. Sorry this was so loonng

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!! Sorry this took so long lol, I had to wait until I had an idea that wasn't already in my requests but I appreciate your patience! This is perhaps more hurt/comfort than straight fluff lol, but he is the most wholesome ever <3

cw: concussion

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 603 words

James’ hand is especially gentle as he strokes over your hair. Your nose dents into his thigh, and his jeans are coarse and scratchy but the slight pressure is nice. 

“Still dizzy?” he asks, carefully quiet. 

“A little.” Your own voice is thin, fraught. “Not as bad.” 

He sighs, and you feel too weird to decipher whether it’s in relief or dismay. “I’m sorry, angel.” He lifts one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the side. “Is it hurting in any one place?” 

“It’s my whole face. But most in my forehead.” 

James’ touch is featherlight, ghosting over the spot where you’d smacked your head on the stairs. “Here?” 

“Mhm.” 

He makes a worried humming sound in response. You sit in silence for some time, and it’s not uncomfortable, but nothing is comfortable for you right now. You feel terrible, unlike yourself and unsettled because of that and also weepy but not as much as you are embarrassed. And dwelling upon any of this for too long makes your head spin worse. You don’t think you’re dying though it feels like you might be. 

The warm bead rolling down your nose brings you to the realization that you’re crying. James’ coo follows a moment later, and his hand splays protectively atop your head. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Do you feel alright to sit up?” 

“Okay,” you mumble. 

He does the work for you, though it’s hard to keep track of the movements. One second your head is on his lap and the next you’re propped against his chest, one muscled arm supporting your back while James rests his lips against your forehead. 

“You’re okay,” he promises. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” 

“I don’t really feel like going to dinner anymore,” you admit, tasting salt as a tear finds its way into your mouth. 

“Oh,” James lifts his lips to look you in the eyes, “honey, I didn’t expect you to. I’m going to call Remus and cancel in a minute, okay?” He brushes a lock of hair away from your face with his pinkie finger, stroking a sweet line down your cheek. “If you go anywhere, it should probably be to the doctor.” 

“No.” You close your eyes, too upset to care about the low whine that escapes you. “What’re they gonna do?” 

“I don’t know, baby.” James traces the same line again. “They might want to do an MRI or something. I’ve had a concussion before, they’re serious business.” 

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. The material of his jumper is soft beneath your cheek. “I can’t think about it right now.” 

There’s a brief pause. 

“Okay. Okay, we can talk about it tomorrow, if it’s still bad then.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry.” James’ arm wraps around your middle, squeezing lightly in a gentle sort of hug. You think that he’s being very careful with you, which you appreciate. You don’t imagine you could handle much more sensation at the moment. “I know it sucks, angel, and you’re handling it so well. We’re gonna do our best to get you feeling better. I love you so much, you know?” 

You feel like you might cry again. You don’t think you have the energy to stop yourself. “I know,” you tell him. “I love you so much, too.” 

“Heaps and heaps.” He gives you another little squeeze, his ability to repress his affection tenuous at best. “Probably the most anyone has ever loved anyone, if we’re being honest.” 

“James.” 

“Yeah?”

“I can’t do that kind of math right now. I love you a lot, okay?” 

“Okay. Same here.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flirts IV

Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: You have to go

It's not that you don't want to be there because you do.

It's that you have to go away for a surgery.

There's some rich woman in California who needs you to operate on her cat. She's paying an extortionate amount for your services and sending a private jet to pick you up.

You love those kinds of pet owners, the ones with enough money to fly in the very best if only because of the clear love they have for all of their pets.

But they're also clients you can't deny.

If someone wants to fly you out for enough money to keep a family afloat for a year, someone with enough influence to make or break anybody's career, you can't say no.

Even if your girlfriend is fighting for Euro's qualification.

"Do you have to go?" Mapi asks, sitting inside of your unpacked suitcase like she was Bagheera in a box.

Honey sits on the bed, head in her paws as she waits, tail wagging, for Mapi to throw her tennis ball.

"Yes," You say, trying to choose between your purple or your blue scrubs," It's a lot of money. Enough for that fancy holiday to the Maldives you guys want to take."

"But it takes you away from us," Mapi whines and Ingrid makes an agreeing noise from over by the door.

"I've travelled for work before."

"You're going to miss my match," Ingrid says and a pit forms in your stomach.

Before this job came up, you and Mapi were meant to be travelling to Norway to see Ingrid's last Euro Qualifiers game before going off in a camper van with her parents.

You'd still make it to the last part, depending on what the labs for this cat came back as but you'd have to miss the match.

You reach out for her, drawing her closer by the waist and resting your head on her chest.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I am, really. I can call up and cancel if you really want me to. I know a guy to recommend instead."

Ingrid sighs, her chin sitting on the top of your head. "No," She says," That cat needs the best care possible. We all know you're the best. Go and be a hero."

"I'd hardly be a hero. It's just surgery."

"Surgery for some woman that clearly adores her pet cat. What you do saves lives. I think that makes you a hero."

"You're so sweet, Ingrid."

"And hot!"

You laugh. "Thanks for that, Mapi. I'm sure she knows that seeing as you tell her everyday."

Mapi shrugs with a smirk on her face. "I'm sure it's nice to be reminded."

Honey whines on the bed and you roll your eyes.

"Throw the ball already. She's getting impatient."

Mapi frowns, waving the ball around.

Honey's eyes dart around erratically to follow it.

"She isn't barking, though?"

You laugh, crossing the space to take the ball and lay a soft kiss on Mapi's lips. "Because she's well-behaved, Mapi. She knows not to bark unless it's an emergency."

You throw the ball up and down to make sure Honey's still watching before you launch it out of the room.

She's off like a shot as Ingrid hauls Mapi out of your suitcase.

You still feel guilty though, through the flight, through the labs, through everything.

The cat is cute one, a little tortoiseshell with an amicable nature and a complete lack of awareness of her surroundings.

You've always been an animal person. You've always loved all of them but living with Mapi and Ingrid has just given you an even newer appreciation for cats.

The checkup happens quickly and the labs are already done and completed by the time you arrive.

Money really does move things along because all the charts are perfect and after what should have been a week long wait to begin, you manage to take a day to get over your jetlag and get to work immediately the day after.

Surgery is simple to you. It's easy and soon enough the cat is halfway to recovery.

You don't quite understand how private planes are hired and sent out, if someone has to book a runway days in advance or if they're open indefinitely.

The original plan had been for you to take a week to do this but now it's all done, you don't quite know what to do with yourself apart from stew in guilt.

You had planned to take your mind off Ingrid's game by throwing yourself into work.

You have no work though and can't help but imagine yourself in Norway with your girlfriends, curled up in Mapi's arms while Ingrid whispers to you.

You swipe away a tear as you head down for dinner, your host gracious enough to treat you to a meal for all your good work.

You've gone radio silent to your girlfriends but neither are surprised.

You're always like that when you go out of the country for work, focused only on your patient. You want no distractions.

Mapi sits slumped in her seat next to Ingrid watching Norway play their last qualifier, sighing to herself as she looks at pictures of the three of you together.

"What's with the pout?" Ingrid teases, running her thumb over Mapi's jutted out bottom lip.

"I miss her," Mapi mutters, feeling a bit like a little kid sulking.

"I know but she'll be here soon and then we go out exploring with my parents before heading back home for preseason. It's not that long of a wait."

"I don't want to wait at all."

"I know but-"

A body slumps down on Mapi's other side and both of them turn.

"I'm not really a fan of this hotdog," You say," It's not bad but I guess I'm not that hungry. Do you want some Mapi?"

You don't get an answer from her because she crushes you into a hug. The hotdog that you regrettably bought squishes between your bodies.

You don't complain though, especially when Ingrid moves into the hug as well, tightening her grip around the both of you.

"I thought you couldn't make it?"

"Money talks," You tease," And the owner felt a bit of pity when I told her that I'd have to watch this match on tv. Chartered a jet for me to come straight here."

"And the cat?" Mapi asks.

"The cat's good. Recovering."

"I'm so happy you're here."

"We're both happy," Ingrid says," So, so happy."

You grin at your girls, the smiling splitting your face.

"I'm happy to be here too."

[wolfjustdraws]

THERES ACTUALLY A SHIRT FILM OF THE 'van lifer buys a van but its haunted' BUT NOT QUITE

its christmas horror anthology that i cannot remember whats its called, i tried to look for it but i cant find it but i swear its real!!! its really low budget but its soo interesting!!!

one of the stories its about this guy who is shopping at a store on the very 25th of december because he didnt properly managed his time, so he has to buy shit for the party with his family

he puts all the things he bought in his car before noticing theres only one other car in the parkinglot with him, some dingy old van, and when he goes to get in the car he finds out he locked it with his keys and phone inside so he can't leave

since his in a press for time he decides to ask the people in the van for a phone to call for help, and in the van theres this two weird women in the van who're like 'yeah sure we'll help u.....when's ur birthday dude'

as it turns out his birthday is on december 25th

so they bring their van over to his car and they tell him that their birthdays are also on december the 25th and that it turns out the van is haunted by a christmas demon??? that can only trap people who're born on christmas day and that if u're trapped by it u can never get away from the van for more than like 5f maybe?? and the demon wont let u go until u find other people who're born on christmas day and make a specific ritual to unbind urself from the van and bind someone else to it in ur place

so the girls try to do the ritual and one of them runs off too early so the demon gets her ass but the other one does manage to unbind herself and leaves the guy to be the van's demon new owner

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine (carol's edition)

you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.

The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.

For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.

He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.

The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"

"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.

"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.

"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.

"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."

"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.

"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.

"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.

"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."

"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"

"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."

"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.

"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.

In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."

You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.

"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."

"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."

"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"

You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.

"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."

You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.

"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."

"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."

"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."

"It's fine--"

A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.

"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"

"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"

"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.

"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."

"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.

"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."

"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.

"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."

"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."

"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"

You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.

"Can I open the card?"

"Sure."

"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.

You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."

"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"

"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"

"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."

"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."

"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.

"No, that'll be later," you smirk.

"Hm?' his brows raise.

"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.

"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.

"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."

You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.

Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.

After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.

[halsteadlover]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @hart-kinsella: Maybe him and mc are working undercover (but they're married in real life) and a guy tries too hard with her (takes her by the arm and invades her personal space as well as trying to flirt with her with words) and then Jay tells him that and punches him. They could be at a club like that one episode when he and Hailey (and Kevin, maybe? I don't remember exactly) were undercover - unfortunately I don't recall which season it was.

• Warnings: mention of drugs, violence.

• Word count: 1543.

• A/N: I know this is not my best work and I apologize 😭 but I managed to quickly write it so I can post something ❤️ and tell me why I stayed for half an hour staring at the wall to think about a title and I ended up with this one 😭 btw love you all and thank you always for your support

It was no secret Jay sometimes hated undercover missions. Especially if you were involved.

He couldn’t help it. He knew you were an amazing cop, one of the best he ever worked with, capable of defending yourself in any circumstances but since you were also his wife, he couldn’t help but worry about you.

And this case was no different.

You and Jay were undercover due to a drug trafficking case, him as a potential buyer interested in purchasing the drugs, you as his work partner who had set up the connection with Joshua Ryder, the criminal suspected of being the gang’s leader.

Jay was on the verge of losing his mind, not being able to stay still and acting like nothing was happening.

You were both in a club, sitting in a VIP room while you talked with Ryder and convince him to make a deal with you. The rest of the team were instead in some fake company’s vans listening to your conversations in real time.

However, things started to go wrong when Jay noticed one of the traffickers approaching you in a way he didn’t like at all.

“Are you here to do business or watch her like a hawk?” the gang leader had insisted for the umpteenth time while for the umpteenth time Jay directed his gaze towards you who continued to giggle with fake enthusiasm with one of Ryder’s henchmen.

You were uncomfortable, as with any mission that involved getting close to another man other than your husband. You knew it was your job, that you had a duty to fulfill and your private life had to stay out of it but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

“You sure you don’t want anything to drink, sugar?” Asked the man who insistently continued to hit on you. You didn’t even know his name – or care to know – but you smiled anyway with fake naivety, slightly shaking your head.

You quickly glanced at Jay who was sitting in front of you, noticing he was busy talking to Ryder, but his gaze met yours for a moment. It was brief but in that simple look you understood he too had noticed that guy’s insistence. Jay had his arms crossed over his chest, breathing heavy, his jaw clenched as he saw how this man insisted on getting closer to you.

He was disgusting, he smelled of alcohol from miles away, and you had to repress the urge to vomit and the instinct to punch his ugly face.

The man approached further, sliding on the sofa towards you and you moved back, trying to create further distance but without making it obvious and making him suspicious.

“You know, my boss is quite jealous of his employees, you shouldn’t be so close to me,” you falsely giggled but he didn’t seem to get the hint, in fact, it seemed to amuse him even more.

“We’re all one big family here darling, what’s mine is someone else’s and what’s someone else’s is mine…” He rested an arm on the back of the sofa behind your shoulders and although he hadn’t even touched you, you felt your skin crawl and the urgent need to throw yourself into an acid bath. “If you want to do business with us your boss will have to learn how to share… Especially with such a beautiful and gracious girl like you.”

The desire to kick him in the balls was intense and you wondered what kind of woman would really fall for these words.

Jay was on the verge of losing his mind.

He was trying.

He was really trying but it was so fucking hard to stay still and not react when that son of a bitch was being a creep with his wife. Ryder was talking to him about something he didn’t even care about, but he couldn’t pay attention and process a single word, too focused on you.

He couldn’t help but glance at you every now and then, running a hand on his jaw in frustration and starting to fidget on the spot as he saw the man getting closer and closer to you and invading your personal space, like touching your hair or caress your shoulder.

It wasn’t jealousy, he could never be jealous of a filthy man like him but he deeply hated not being able to do anything to keep you safe without ruining the whole mission. He hated seeing you so tense and uncomfortable although from the way your hands were balled into fists in your lap, he knew you too were itching to punch him.

He hated having to pretend you were simply his work partner and not his wife.

But he swore he saw red when that man’s clammy hand rested on your face and your eyes widened at the contact as your entire body froze in place.

Fuck the mission and these motherfuckers too.

Jay lost control.

That slimy hand on you had driven him crazy and before he knew it, he had stood up and grabbed the man’s hand with his, punching him in the face with all the strength in his body. He didn’t catch the gasp that escaped you and he didn’t even care he had just ruined any chance of doing ‘business’ with Ryder along with the possibility of framing him. While his fist hit that bastard again and again, all he could do was think of those hands on you.

“That’s my fucking wife you motherfucker!” Jay screamed in his face, holding him by the collar of his shirt as the man spat out blood, struggling to keep up with the fury of the undercover detective. “Let me catch you again putting a hand on her or even just looking her way, I’ll enjoy breaking your fingers one by one before throwing you in jail.”

Everything was now chaos.

The team, who in the meantime had witnessed everything through your hidden cameras, burst in when they realized the situation had now worsened to the point of no return. You tried to pull Jay away from the man, but it was totally useless, not when he was so furious that your strength was no match for his.

Ryder was fuming when he realized you were cops and you had tried to frame him, swearing he’d make you pay dearly while Kevin handcuffed him along with the rest of his goons.

“Baby,” you called back but Jay didn’t look at you right away. You stood outside the club under Voight’s orders, a hand on his bicep and caressing him as you tried to get his attention. You were alone in a little corner, waiting for your boss for his inevitable fury.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice low but finally focusing his gaze on you.

You let out a laugh trying to diffuse the tension, you hated seeing him so furious. “You are ask me if I’m okay? I’m not the one who just punched a guy.”

He sighed, tearing his eyes away from you as he ran his hands over his face with frustration. Your heart clenched at the sight of his red and bruised knuckles. “I wish I had killed him to be honest.”

“Jay I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” you replied, taking his hands in yours and leaving a kiss on the back of them, smiling when you saw his hard features start to soften at the gesture. “I could’ve handled him, I wouldn’t have let him go any further.”

“I know you could baby, you’re amazing,” he softy spoke, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He took a step towards you, closing the distance enough you had to slightly lift your head up to look into his eyes. “But there’s no way on earth that I would have sat there and watched while that son of a bitch put his hands on you.”

He cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs caressing your heated cheeks. “No one gets to put a hand on you, much less against your will. You’re my wife, I’m the only bastard who can touch you and I will gladly kill anyone who dares to do it instead of me, am I clear?”

You let out a breath, almost on the verge of passing out right there and now in his arms. “God baby I want to suck your dick so bad right now. I love when you get so protective of me, it’s so hot.”

Jay burst out laughing, his stomach clenching in anticipation knowing you would stand by your words. He pulled you into a hug and you rested your head on his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ll always keep you safe, I won’t let anyone touch a single hair of your head, I hope you know it. God knows I would set the city on fire to protect you.”

“I know baby, I love you so damn much it’s insane,” you deeply inhaled the smell of his cologne, leaving a kiss on his shirt coated chest. “But I hope it’s worth it because Voight is coming and I think he’s ready to take us both out,” you continued when you broke away from the hug and saw your boss coming up behind Jay, a furious look on his face.

“Oh yeah, it’ll always be worth it, especially for the amazing blowjob you’ll give me later.”

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[19burstraat]

I noticed on my duology reread that Wylan and Kaz's first days in the Barrel are really closely paralleled. Like, really closely. Obviously they both have to swim to escape, but once they're out of the water, Wylan refuses to close his eyes because he'll never open them again; Kaz physically can't go to close Jordie's, because he'll drown if he goes back into the water. Wylan still has a good amount of money that Van Eck gave him, wet but spendable; Kaz mugs a kid for pennies and some sweets. Wylan hides in the boardinghouse for days until he's hungry enough to venture out, where he buys some kind of fried potatoes and eats so fast he burns his mouth; Kaz has starved for so long that he gets the stolen liquorice and eats it so fast he immediately throws it all back up. He buys one bread roll with the pennies and is given a second 'just to stay away'. Wylan wants to do 'honest' work, and Kaz immediately starts working in gambling halls, fighting, and doing jobs for gangs. Both are driven into the arms of the Dregs by the antagonistic 'father' figure— Wylan won't join until the letters from Van Eck start arriving, and he realises he needs to make real money to be able to disappear, and Kaz won't join because he doesn't care, until he knows Hertzoon is really Rollins, at which point he realises he needs a gang.

Similar boys, different provenance, different outcome. Who's to say Wylan wouldn't have immediately become like Kaz, if he hadn't had the money? Perhaps with more time and more desperation, once the money was gone and the letters were piling up, he would have done. But, importantly, Kaz doesn't let him stay in the Barrel long enough to find out. It's hard to know how much of his meddling in Wylan's fortunes is due to him consciously noting their similarities (and how many of the similarities he actually knows is also up for debate), but Kaz DEFINITELY puts a foot in the door, so to speak, whatever he might think his reasons are.

[stillmonsterz]

when you split the heart open

pairing: heeseung x reader, jake x reader (kind of)

genre: smut, angst (?)

summary: heeseung is dating the girl of his dreams. the only problem? he has to have sex with her.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, name-calling, manipulation, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, humiliation (?), heeseung is a cuck

word count: 5.1k

---

Heeseung had a girlfriend, and she was amazing. She was pretty, smart, funny, and her body was out of this world. She had a particular vibrancy and joie de vivre that made spending time with her invigorating. She was the opposite of a dead fish in the bedroom- she was vocal, enthusiastic, and loved to please him.

He disliked having sex with her.

Sometimes he almost pitied her; she would seduce him in any way she could, winding her hips seductively, crawling towards him on the bed wearing nothing but thigh-high socks, rubbing his crotch under the table when they ate out, anything to catch his attention. Of course, he didn’t pass up a good fuck – he wasn’t insane – but it did nothing for him but provide a quick release.

It wasn’t like he didn’t love her, he did. He was convinced that someday, he could even marry her. It’s just that he found that he loved her best when she was farther away from him, someone he could admire rather than keep. Heeseung found her beautiful at 11 pm, when she would dance alone in her bedroom wearing a baggy T-shirt. Or when she would shove her face into her pillow and thrust the end of a hairbrush into her pussy. It was an amazing night when he had caught that- he had been parked outside of her apartment complex, so he got a side-view, and the camera he had set up in her closet gave him a perfect shot of her smooth legs and raised ass. The day after that, when they had had sex in his van, the memory of her chasing her orgasm got him to finish.

Heeseung was a voyeur, and he was starting to think that it was becoming a problem. And it wasn’t even a problem he could complain about; in a moment of weakness, he had told his best friend Jay that he didn’t like how frequently his girlfriend wanted sex, and Jay had heavily implied that Heeseung was gay.

He was getting really sick and tired of having to fuck his girlfriend all the time. Heeseung had suggested mutual masturbation, which backfired. It ended up being too intimate for him and it just got her hot. She had pounced on him and ridden him as if her life depended on it.

At times, he missed how things were before they started dating. He had met her at her job, and had never revisited. Instead, he had waited for her shift to finish, followed her home, and tugged himself dry while he watched her undress in her room. The curtains were too sheer, and sometimes she wouldn’t even draw them. It made him think she wanted him to see her, and the thought of that always made him harder.

She had approached him at the local grocery store, as he was buying ramen noodles. She had said that she had wanted to see him again, Heeseung had made up some excuse, and through a series of events that Heeseung hadn’t lived through so much as passively observed, they had ended up dating.

It had been eight months of dating, cuddling, and sex, and he felt exhausted. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he also loved spending time with her. So he started making up excuses to not sleep with her. Headaches, shifts at work, weird erections from his medication.

One day, a few days after their eight month anniversary where Heeseung had reluctantly eaten her out, she confronted him. They were sitting on his couch, playing Mario Kart, when she turned to him.

“Do you still like me?” she asked, voice shaky.

Heeseung shut the TV off immediately. “Huh? Of course I like you- baby, I love you.” He rested his hands on hers as they clutched the controller.

“Then why don’t you like sleeping with me?”

“No, no, I…” Heeseung hesitated. This was the perfect time to come clean. They could work things out, maybe. It would be good to get it off his chest. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been having a…problem. It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Her eyes were wide and glassy. She was wearing his large hoodie and a pair of dolphin shorts. She looked perfect. “A problem?”

“Yes, a problem. I…I…look. I like you. I love you. You’re my girl.” Heeseung reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “The problem is that you’re just…like an angel to me. It feels wrong when I…when I fuck you.”

“What?” It came out as a squeak, and she recoiled from his touch. “Feels wrong?”

“No, no, not that you’re wrong, it’s me, it’s that…” Heeseung sighed. “I like to look at you I like seeing you move, it’s like art come to life. It feels like when I touch you, I’m sullying something beautiful, something that needs to be kept clean.” Heeseung thought that if he made it sound more romantic and less like a paraphilia, she would be more inclined to hear him out. And to his glee, she slowly leaned into his touch again, her cheek rubbing against his hand.

“You find me beautiful?”

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met,” he said, staring her in her luminous eyes. “Too gorgeous for me.”

“You aren’t,” she said imploringly, holding his wrist with her two hands. “Heeseung, I love you. And I really like having sex with you. Why did you sleep with me all those times if you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I did enjoy it, I did. I just…I wanted to make you happy, baby.” Heeseung kissed her forehead. “Your happiness matters the most to me. I’d do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her vack, cupping her face in his hands.

“Anything for me?”

“Anything, Heeseung.”

“I have an idea.”

He clambered into his room and pulled out his hairbrush. “Just…just use this to get off, okay?” He handed it to her, and she accepted it slowly, turning it over like it was a foreign object.

His girlfriend looked up at him. “Right now?”

Heeseung shook his head. “Not yet. Hold on.” He ran to his room again and found an old handheld camcorder.

She squinted at it. “You’re going to film me?”

“No, it’s dead,” he lied. “See?” He showed her the black screen. “I’m just going to use this to mimic the feeling of….uh, awayness. Like an extra screen between you and I.”

She fiddled with the hairbrush, feeling its smooth wooden end with her thumb. “Well…I mean, I’m not really in the mood right now….”

“You’re always in the mood,” he replied, frustration slowly building in him. “I swear you’re like a dog in heat sometimes.”

His girlfriend’s eyes widened again. “What?”

“You’re always asking to get fucked. You’re like a nymphomaniac, I swear. I bet you go home and hump your pillows right after I turn you out because you just can’t get enough.” Heeseung had seen exactly that from one of his midnight excursions to her place.

“I’m not a nympho-,”

“Oh, yes you are. Whores like to get fucked less than you do. I can only imagine how much you got around before I cuffed you.” He saw her shove one hand down her dolphin shorts. He raised the camera with a smile.

“I’m a whore?” Her face was flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

“You’re a whore who gets off to being called a whore. Good fucking thing you’re with me, or else you would have been taken advantage of already, especially with that slutty body of yours.”

To his growing delight, she had tugged her shorts off and slipped her dainty little panties off. The end of his hairbrush slipped deftly in and out of her glistening folds.

Heeseung stopped talking, as so not too ruin the footage with his voice. He just watched her circle her clit with her manicured fingers, watched her pussy swallow the hairbrush.

“Heeseung,” she moaned, and he scowled, cutting the video short.

“Don’t say my name,” he said. “And keep your eyes shut.” When her eyes fluttered shut, he turned the camera on. He stroked himself in time with the insertion of the hairbrush. Seeing her splayed out on his couch, her head tossed back, his hoodie riding up to expose her soft tummy…it was amazing. And the fact that she didn’t know he was filming her made it all the better. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it was perfect. When she came, she nearly said his name again, but she cut herself off instead. He didn’t let himself cum, but he moaned and pretended like he did too.

Heeseung kissed his girlfriend, licked the sweat off of her face. “Perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The second she left his house, he sniffed the couch, the exact place where she had sat as they had played video games. Her scent was so strong; he buried his face into the faux leather and inhaled deeply. Heeseung closed his eyes, imagined her masturbating herself all alone in room, and finished all over the couch.

He was going to have so much fun.

The platonic aspects of their relationship stayed the same. They would have simple at-home dates, occasionally going out to restaurants or the movies or anywhere she liked. Heeseung didn’t really care what they did as a couple. He just liked to be around her.

They still had sex, but it had gone from several times a week to once every two weeks. It was still a dreaded task for Heeseung, but it balanced out now that they had incorporated his voyeuristic tendencies into their relationship.

On movie dates, he made sure to get tickets in a theatre with a sparse audience. Then, he would leave his seat, sitting a few rows back, and watch his girlfriend play with herself, fondling her tits and slipping a hand into her jeans. If they went to the beach, Heeseung would take her to a secluded spot, tell her to lie down on a towel, and to strip. She would sunbathe completely nude,  rubbing lotion all over herself.

When she would go out with her friends, Heeseung would periodically text her, asking her to unbutton a few of her buttons, or to send him a picture of her panties. He asked her to fuck herself in public bathrooms and to send videos for proof. He would lazily stroke his cock to the grainy footage of her sliding her fingers in and out of her tight pussy. When she told him that men were hitting on her, he would text, “Good job.” Then he would tell her to unbutton another few buttons, or to part her legs as she rode the subway. What he would really like would be for her to walk around dressed in a tiny little crop top that showed the underside of her breasts and shorts that displayed her bare ass, but Heeseung knew he was already asking for a lot.

A few times, he had strapped her to his bed with rope, so that her arms and legs were bound. He had affixed a phone-controlled vibrator between her thighs, and he watched her writhe on his bed with glee. Heeseung watched her have orgasm after orgasm, and if she begged him to stop he would get angry. He would complain that she had ruined it. He would pry her mouth open with his fingers, and she would suck him off to completion. Then he would start the process over again, until her face was flushed, her legs would shake, and he could even glimpse her pussy clenching around nothing. It was fun for him, but eventually he grew tired of watching it. He had tried making it more interesting by binding her fingers in front of her hole so she could tremblingly fuck herself, but the rush of that wore off too. Heeseung needed something more, something that could sate his urges.

So he had asked for something else.

---

“You want me to do what?” They were at a café, and she put down the croissant she had been nibbling.

Heeseung raised his hands. “You don’t have to do it. It was just a suggestion.”

“Heeseung, I know you’re struggling, but…nude karaoke?”

He sighed and looked away from her. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s getting hard, you know. I love you, and I feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s really messing with me, up here…” Heeseung tapped the side of his head. “I feel like a freak.”

Her face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’re not a freak, my love. You’re just…”

“A perv who wants his girlfriend to get nude in front of strangers.” Heeseung laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m really normal.”

“You’re not a perv, either.” She swallowed. “I mean…this could actually be good for me. It could help me explore my sexuality more.” She squeezed his hand and mustered up a smile. “I think we should try it?”

Heeseung didn’t allow himself to smile. “Yeah? I mean, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want to do this.”

He leaned across the table and kissed her all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the nicest girl ever.”

That night was nude karaoke night at a local var. When they arrived, there were only a five dozen or so attendees, mainly men. They were sitting around a makeshift stage in wooden chairs that had been dragged from the surrounding tables. A woman was there, warbling a song as she swayed her hips. The men seemed bored, and Heeseung started to feel prideful. His girl, who was wearing a loose white dress and had folded her arms tightly around her chest, was so much prettier than that other woman. These men were going to shit themselves when she started to sing.

The woman finished her song, and the applause was scattered. Then his girlfriend slowly walked onto the stage, her heels clacking against the floor. Her hands were scrunched into fists. As she adjusted the mic, one man yelled, “Take your tits out, now!”

Another said, “Don’t look so shy, sweetheart.”

Heeseung was elated.

She introduced the song she was going to sing – Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Heeseung had heard her sing that one; her voice had always sounded so melancholic, fragile, and sweet. He smiled at her encouragingly.

The intro to the song played, and she pulled her dress off, revealing her stunning body. The men whooped and cheered, hurling vulgarities at her. She tried to sing, clutching the microphone tightly, but the jeering was loud. As Heeseung scanned the small space, he saw that the men around him were either stroking their bulges covertly or outright jerking themselves off.

His girlfriend kept singing with her eyes closed. Heeseung wanted her to open them, so she could see the effect he was having on all of those men. They were all drooling after her, calling her a slut, saying that she must be tight, that they would fuck up whoever got to tap that pussy. Heeseung jerked himself off right there, joining in the orgiastic atmosphere of the cramped little bar. He watched her sing, his heart full.

When she finished, the patrons begged her to keep singing. They tossed money at her, wadded bills. She glanced at Heeseung, who nodded, and so she continued to sing, this time quietly crooning In The Mood For Love.

A man told her to play with her tits while she sang, and she did, running her thumb along her nipples. It was more than Heeseung could handle, and he came halfway through the song.

After her second performance, she hurried off of the stage, collecting some of the money before pulling her dress on. She ran out, which was smart, because the men were starting to clamor for her to do worse acts. Heeseung followed after her, and before he opened his car, he kissed her in the parking lot.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, kissing her again. “So amazing. Your voice is beautiful.”

She scoffed. “My voice?”

Heeseung shrugged playfully. “And, you know, your body. You looked sexy up there. Everyone thought so.”

His girlfriend rested her hands against his chest. “Did you think so?”

“Of course I did,” he said in a placating tone, stroking her hair. “Of course, baby.”

“You’re the only person I care about,” she said quietly.

“Me too.”

She hesitated. “Did you…like what I did? How did that make you feel, me going up there, naked, and…”

Heeseung tilted her chin up with his finger. “I loved it. I fucking loved it. I came in mere minutes. You’re amazing, baby.”

She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Heeseung held her like she would slip away from him.

--

After that, she became different. Without even asking, she had started to wear tighter, shorter clothes. She used to go out in dresses, worn jeans, or she’d just wear his hoodies. Now, she wore bodycon dresses, miniskirts that practically gave you peeks of her ass, and she had cut her shirts up so that they displayed her midriff. It was amazing.

He liked to parade her around the mall now. The sight of men and women alike ogling his girlfriend made his cock so hard, he would walk with a limp. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he would take her into the family bathroom, or slip into a change room and fuck her in there. Public sex was marginally better than regular sex with her, because he liked to imagine that men were fantasizing about her. He would close his eyes and imagine her naked, standing like a mannequin in a store, and all of the men who had lasciviously eyed her in the mall being forced to see her but unable to touch. It was a glorious time.

The novelty wore off after a few months, and he lost interest in having sex with her again. She could tell, and he knew that she was getting nervous. She performed at nude karaoke again, but even that did nothing for him.

He knew what he wanted from her.

On their first anniversary as a couple, Heeseung had taken her to brunch at a restaurant she had been eyeing. She wore this little black crop top with a tiny skirt, and her makeup was perfect.

Towards the end of their meal, Heeseung dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Baby,” he began, staring her in the eyes, “you are my better half. I can’t believe I’ve been able to spend a full year with you. You’re so kind, so sweet, so understanding, and so gorgeous.” He reached out and kissed her hand, and she giggled. “You’re the light of my life. You’re my reason to go on, and you deserve the moon. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is this.” Heeseung pulled a small black box out of his jacket pocket.

With a smile so bright Heeseung swore it could cause flowers to bloom, she opened the box. She gasped when she saw the charm bracelet he had bought her. “Oh, Heeseung,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so expensive.”

“You deserve it,” he said softly, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist. “You deserve the world, baby.”

“I have it right here,” she replied.

They shared a kiss, then Heeseung leaned into her ear. “I was thinking…we could make this anniversary even more special.”

Her lips curled into a mischievous little smile. “How?”

“You said you’d do anything for me, right?”

She pulled away from him slightly, her lips setting into a thin line.

“Right?” he asked firmly, taking hold of her hand.

“Of course,” she said frantically, “anything for you, my love.”

---

The motel that Heeseung had driven them to was shoddy and sleazy. There were people outside smoking on lawn chairs, and dilapidated cars filled the parking lot. The neon sign affixed to the window flashed its name: Ethan’s Motel. Heeseung ushered his girlfriend inside, and he took note of the people populating the motel. Tweakers, men in sweaty wife-beaters.

He wondered which one would give his girlfriend the best fuck.

In the end, he told her to find someone while he set up the rooms. She asked how, and he told her to just be upfront with them. Heeseung had bought two rooms, which stunk of dust and reeked of bodily fluids. He hid a small camera in a flower pot- his girlfriend didn’t know about that – and shoved a nail through the wall to make a small hole, just to cover his ass.

Then he went to the other room to set up his laptop, which showed the feed from the camera. He set that on the small desk directly in front of his bed.

Within ten minutes, his girlfriend was leading a man into the motel room. He looked around their age and had a shaggy mop of hair. He was shorter than Heeseung, so Heeseung figured that his dick was probably smaller, too. But his girlfriend wouldn’t mind that, he was sure- who knows how much random dick she’d bounced on before they dated? Anyways, her hookup looked nice enough, but then again, he was hanging around a place like this.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked, still holding his hand. She sat down on the bed, and the guy followed.

“Jake,” he said. “And yours?”

She told him her name, and he nodded.

“Well, you’re…you’re hot as hell,” Jake said, laughing awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck. Heeseung was getting really pissed off, but he told himself to be patient.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said lowly, tracing a finger down Jake’s chest. Heeseung shivered. “I think you know how to please a woman, right?”

Jake smirked and slowly pushed Heeseung’s girlfriend down until he was hovering above her. “Come find out.”

Heeseung watched Jake make out with his girlfriend. He watched his girlfriend lie, refusing to even touch Jake. It made him frown. She was supposed to be enjoying this. He wanted to see her in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to see her in all of her hedonistic glory.

Finally, she kissed Jake back, and he started taking his clothes off. He seemed as frantic as Heeseung was. She undressed, casting her clothes aside, and Jake was on top of her again.

Jake shifted around so that her ass was above his face as she lied on top of him. He started to lick her pussy, firmly gripping her ass with both of her hands. She started to suck him off, only licking the tip at first before throating Jake’s cock.

Heeseung whimpered, unzipping his jeans and only allowing himself minimal pressure as he palmed himself over his boxers. If he didn’t pace himself, he was going to cum before the fun truly began.

Jake continued to eat Heeseung’s girlfriend out, and Heeseung could hear his moans through the door. His girlfriend was being incredibly quiet, however, which was annoying. She pulled herself off of Jake and sat at the head of the bed. She spread her legs and looked up at Jake with empty eyes. Jake crawled towards her, and from that angle Heeseung could only see his hips moving rapidly and his girlfriend’s legs quivering. Her hands feebly wrapped around Jake and hugged him tightly as she pounded her.

Then Jake laid flat on his back and she got on top of him. The way she arched her back, practically dancing on Jake’s dick, made Heeseung moan. She gripped Jake’s shoulders and took him to the hilt, her eyes closed. Jake was holding her hips and whispering, “Fuck, fuck that’s nice, fuck.” It was annoying that this shmuck didn’t have anything better to say, but Heeseung didn’t really care. He was forcing himself to stroke himself at a snail’s pace, when all he wanted to do was rub his dick raw.

His girlfriend got off of Jake’s cock and went on all fours, so that she was facing the TV of the motel room. In other words, she was facing Heeseung’s camera. It felt like magic, like she knew or something. He couldn’t take it anymore, and Heeseung spit in his hand and started stroking himself directly. Jake kneeled behind Heeseung’s girlfriend and started ramming into her, one hand slapping her ass and the other pulling her hair back.

Heeseung took in the details of her body; the shuddering of her torso, the trembling of her arms as she steadied herself on the bed, the way that her ass pressed against Jake’s groin as he pounded into her, the way her breasts freely shook, the conflicted expression on her perfect little face, the sheen of sweat covering her from her head to her toes. Heeseung had always known that she was beautiful, but now he swore that she was an angel.

Jake panted, “I’m close, fuck, fuck!” so Heeseung rubbed his cock even faster, his other hand squeezing his balls. It was an Olympic feat to suppress his growing orgasm, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Not when his girlfriend was whimpering so prettily, when she was so consumed by her own pleasure, guilt, and embarrassment that she had probably forgotten all about the camera filming it all. Heeseung thought he might die.

With a guttural moan, Jake came in her, weakly thrusting a few more times to drain the last of his cum. Then he let her drop onto the bed, and she collapsed like a rag doll. Heeseung came as well, biting his lip harshly so he wouldn’t moan. He milked his cock with a white-hot fervor, riding out his high for as long as he could. When the aftershock hit him, all he could do was take quick gasps of air. Heeseung licked his lips and tasted blood.

Jake stroked his girlfriend’s hair, kissed her forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The sight of her limp and pliant, barely lifting her head to talk to Jake, was so arousing that Heeseung wished he had it in him to jack off again. This footage would last him for months.

As Heeseung closes his eyes to relive the memory, Jake put his clothes on. He dug around in his jacket, pulled out a few bills, and left them on her back. He left, closing the door with a soft click. Heeseung’s girlfriend remained where she was, as stiff as a corpse. Heeseung didn’t leave his motel room right away, the images in his head too vivid, too lush.

Heeseung walked inside of the motel room, and the smell of sex was intoxicating. “Baby, that was amazing- you, you were amazing.” His grin is stretched maniacally wide, and his steps towards the hidden camera were buoyant. “I came so hard, baby. It was perfect, just perfect.” He removed the camera from the potted plant and tucked it carefully into its bag.

She hadn’t said a word, just resting on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. Poor thing, Heeseung thought, she hadn’t had a fucking like that since we got together. Poor little angel. He walked over to her and lay next to her on the bed. He kissed her over and over, holding her slick cheeks in her hands. “You’re so perfect,” Heeseung whispered. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you. You’re amazing, thank you, thank you.”

She opened her eyes, and her apprehensive gaze made Heeseung’s cock stir. “I feel dirty,” she said, voice choked with emotion.

“No, baby,” he said, kissing her nose again. He gently crawls on top of her, circling his arms around her waist. “You’re not dirty. You’re good, so good. You’re the best. There’s nothing wrong with…with exploring. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?” His girlfriend hesitated, so he firmly said, “You enjoyed it. Right? I could tell you did.”

She nodded, bucking her head against his chin affectionately. “I did.”

“You did,” Heeseung breathed out. “I knew you would, my sweet girl.” His hand trailed down to his pants zipper, and he pulled his cock out. He gave it a few strokes, but the sight of another man’s cum coating her thighs was all the motivation he needed. “You’re the best,” he cooed, slipping inside of his girlfriend. It was so easy because she had been fucked open by Jake, and she took him so well. The only sound she made when he entered her was a soft little sigh.

Heeseung closed his eyes and thought of her face again, the contortion of her features into that portrait of debauchery. His arms remained tight around her in a stiff embrace, his cheek resting on her head. He thought about how amazing it would be to see another man fuck her again. Maybe two, three, a train of strangers having their turns with his girlfriend, his beautiful, kind girlfriend. Heeseung couldn’t have pulled out of her if he had tried as the fantasies overtake him. He finished inside of her, hot jizz clamoring out of him in spurts, and wiped his tip on one of the bills Jake left on her back. The room felt like it was spinning, and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with fire. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I love you so much.”

Heeseung pushes the money off of her back and carries his girlfriend into the small bathroom. He placed her inside of the cracked bathtub and filled it with warm water. He left her there to get her toiletry bag, and when he came back she was staring at the ceiling. As he scrubbed her body, he pressed kisses to her skin. He washed her like a piece of alabaster pottery, washing her thoroughly. When he dried her off, he noticed that she hadn’t said a single word. “Baby?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Heeseung.”

He carried her to bed and dressed her in her grey robe. He stripped to his boxers and kissed her cheeks before he pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her head onto his chest and stroked her soft, downy hair.

He had never felt so in love.

[dat-town]

like rain, we fell (in love)

Characters: idol!Jaehyun & female reader

Setting & genre: idol au with simpism and loserism, an attempt at comedy, very heavily inspired by Lovely Runner

Summary: Jaehyun met you on a rainy day before debut. Almost 5 years later he is an established name in the industry, the nation’s puppy boyfriend. When he meets you again, idol image be damned he won’t miss this chance.

Warnings: birth names are used, mentions of uncertainty, dieting, stress, exhaustion, sasaengs and similar things idol life can bring; idol life and dating culture is still taken a lot lighter than reality to spare the angst. there is one drunk man threatening the mc at one point but nothing physical happens. after the time skip, the boys are aged up because we’re fast forwarding to 2027 which also means there are a bunch of made up things about bnd’s future. even though i tried my best to research predebut things, this fic in no way tries to depict real lives. all characters are fictional and not actual representation of the boys.

Words: 9.7k

Author’s note: ever since i finished the drama i had the idea written down with an idol mentioning his first love on live just like how Ryu Sunjae did. initially it wasn’t for Jaehyun but then he dropped his Sonaki cover and he gives off the vibes, doesn’t he? when the MAC advertisement is mentioned, imagine something like this

@restlessmaknae at this point, i'm not even saying anything... just enjoy <3

3 MONTHS BEFORE DEBUT

It was raining on the day Myung Jaehyun met you.

It was a particularly exhausting day, the bad kind. Normally he didn’t mind the ache in his muscles, proof of their hard work nor being so damn tired after getting back to the dorms past midnight that he could barely remember to wash up before falling to bed. But there were these kinds of days when dragging themselves home from the practice room felt like something they were undeserving of, when doubts were too loud as their dance teacher’s words about still not being synchronized enough rang in their ears. He could tell it was affecting all of them.

The car ride back to the dorms was often quiet so late at night as they tried to catch every bit of sleep they could but it was often filled with snacking, watching videos and small talk too. It was rarely this tense, so thick that it lingered in the air. Jaehyun could tell that nobody could sleep this time even if Dongmin pretended to with his eyes closed, hoodie up and headphones over his ears. Woonhak looked like he was one more scolding word away from tearing up and usually Jaehyun would have been the one who tried to lighten up the mode, who joked around, who poked and teased and babbled until the tension broke and they laughed. But that day, it was too much, he couldn’t think of anything to say, nothing that could have cheered them up so close to the final evaluation, so close to messing up their chance for debut.

When the car halted in front of their dorm building, everybody scurried out of the van with half-hearted goodbyes to the staff member who gave them the ride. Jaehyun was the last one to get out of the car, his sports bag felt heavy on his shoulder and his still damp fringe hung into his eyes. He felt uneasy going back to the dorm, knowing he wouldn’t sleep anyways, so his steps slowed down, unsure, even after the van left. It was Sungho after having patted the others’ back, wishing them good night, who had noticed him stalling.

“You good?” He asked quietly, dark spots under his eyes showing that he didn’t fare any better than any of them, yet he tried. Jaehyun wasn’t sure whether it had something to do with the responsibility he felt as the oldest or it was just his personality but he was really grateful to have him with them. He was even more grateful that the elder boy didn’t show any kind of grudge against him being voted as their future leader despite joining KOZ only at the end of last year. At times like this, Jaehyun doubted he could do a good job at leading a team. He wasn’t made to do so. He was loud and messy. They should have chosen Sungho with his easy smiles and orderliness, since they had already often relied on him.

“I will catch up with you soon,” Jaehyun promised before turning down the road. He wasn’t sure where he was headed but he knew he needed to clear his head.

Even though he only knew the other boys for a few months, he could easily imagine their different ways of coping. Donghyun and Sanghyeok talking in the darkness of their room, Sungho stress-cleaning their kitchen, Taesan already working on his next cool song about beating allegations of not being good enough while Woonhak forcing himself to go to sleep because poor kid had to go to school in less than 6 hours. And him? Out at night swinging at a playground because he wanted to scream but couldn’t. He felt worn out like he wasn’t made for this but at the same time he couldn’t imagine any other life. Especially when after sacrificing his youth on the altar of training, after wasting years at YG watching all of his friends debut, he was finally so close. They were so close to turning their dream into reality.

Eventually he ended up at a 24/7 convenience store a few corners from their dorms. They had other ones closer, ones they were regulars at but he had already come so far, so it only made sense. He mumbled a greeting under his breath, his hoodie engulfing his figure, as he headed towards the snacks section. He momentarily faltered as he passed by the alcoholic drinks, the idea of getting drunk and forgetting about his problems a tad bit too tempting for a moment. But after he’d had way too much makgeolli during Christmas, he hadn't really been keen on revisiting that hungover. It was a stupid idea anyways, he had vocal practice in the morning and what about his pre-debut image?

He grabbed a bag of gummies, some overly sweet candies, chocolate bars and the kimchi flavored chips he had seen in the kitchen before and headed to the checkout area.

“Would you like a bag?” The cashier asked in an all too cheerful voice despite the time nearing 1AM and that there was a textbook open on the counter.

“Yes, please,” Jaehyun muttered, fishing out his worn wallet he had gotten from his father when he had moved out to chase his dreams.

Items were scanned then put into a black plastic bag, card swiped, receipt ignored, it was all monotonous and robotic and Jaehyun was too tired to actually pay attention to anything. He didn’t even notice the heavy rain that started up until he approached the store’s automatically opening door and the wind hit him. Oh, just his luck. As if he needed something to make his day worse.

Jaehyun sighed, bracing himself against the cold and getting soaking wet until he reached the dorm. He could only hope he wouldn’t get a sore throat by tomorrow morning. But before he could have stepped outside, he heard movement behind him and felt gentle taps on his shoulder.

“Here, take it,” you held out a transparent colored umbrella towards him when he turned around and Jaehyun blinked dumbfounded. You had still worn the store’s uniform just like you had done behind the cash register and your voice was just as melodious as before but now that he looked at you properly he couldn’t unsee it: the beauty in your smile and the kindness in your eyes.

It sounded too good to be true to not get rained on and save the poor excuse of treats he bought for the boys to cheer them up from getting wet but he wasn't sure he could accept it from a stranger just like that. Wouldn’t you get in trouble for that? How would you get home in this weather?

“But…”

“We have plenty more left behind. You can bring it back anytime,” you smiled at him brightly like the Sun in the gloomy dark weather that embraced the two of you. Jaehyun was mesmerized then by your sparkling eyes and soft smile. He was sure he stared at you a tad bit long before catching himself.

“Thank you,” he grinned sheepishly as he took the umbrella from you. Your lips curled further up as you stepped back.

“Take care,” you wished like an angel sent from above to make his shitty day better before turning around and going back to the register while humming a mainstream kpop song.

Later when Jaehyun was back in the dorm freshly showered and tucked in his bed, all he could think about was you instead of the self-doubt that had been eating him away. You were like a miracle.

It took Jaehyun an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to take the umbrella back. Not to mention, he was quite protective of the cheap piece, he even shrieked a tiny bit dramatically and made Woonhak swear he would take care of it when he saw the younger mindlessly grab it from by the door on a cloudy day.

Sure, he could have simply taken the umbrella back, given it to you and said thank you again but come on, that was too… anticlimactic. He needed a better excuse to keep talking to you, to hear that cheery voice and see your soft smile.

The perfect opportunity came when he heard Sungho complain about running out of dishwashing liquid and even though they didn’t even share the same dorm and they could have just asked the cleaning lady who visited weekly, Jaehyun took it upon himself to get some. He had no idea about dishwashing things after all. All of them were the same yellow liquid to him and he didn’t really care about degreasing agents or traits for sensitive hands, so it was something he could have asked you about and maybe casually slipping into a conversation about your lives? He had already drafted three lyrics about the different scenarios playing in his head and because he wasn’t the most subtle person ever, Dongmin obviously noticed.

“Do I wanna know?” He quirked an eyebrow knowingly before turning back to the studio's computer at Jaehyun’s sigh.

“It’s nothing,” the elder brushed it off because he might have been shameless and loud about most things, but he wanted to keep you just for himself for a while. So he let out another exaggerated sigh and pointed at the screen. “Let’s go over the track you showed me two days ago, I might have lyrics for it.”

Dongmin hummed and let it slide, but Jaehyun was sure that he couldn’t avoid the confrontation much longer. He hoped that the temporary ignorance meant that the younger knew that he would have never done anything to jeopardize their debut.

He was merely embarrassing himself apparently.

Because the next time he visited the convenience store on a clear sky night with zero chances of rain, he stood at the door of the store, umbrella in one hand, staring dumbfoundedly at the guy playing on his phone behind the counter. No sight of you or your pretty smiles. So he stood there, dumbfounded, gaping like one of Donghyun’s fish, wondering whether he mistook the day you had met but there was absolutely no way he could have, not with the amount of times he thought about it. It was exactly two weeks before, at the same time, at the exact same place. He couldn’t have mistaken it.

“Are you coming in or what?” The cashier looked up, bored and a bit annoyed at this late hour, so Jaehyun tried his best to appear nonchalant despite his heart breaking. He knew he was dramatic but he couldn’t help it, like he even dressed up nicely! And there was no smiley cashier greeting him? No you?

“Yeah,” he coughed, hurrying down one random aisle and spending too much time to find the dishwasher section to grab one bottle without looking at it too much.

The ‘take the umbrella back and talk with you’ mission was a failure but at least Sungho was happy about his surprise purchase, even complimenting him on the nice scent he chose as if Jaehyun would have ever bought cherry blossom ones on purpose.

Jaehyun thought he was doing a fair job of not moping but out of all people it had to be Woonhak who called him out on it. The maknae was surprisingly insightful for his age, unfortunately so.

“Hyung, if it’s still about the last donut I ate last week, we can get some later,” Woonhak nudged his arm while Jaehyun was busy zoning out, trying to come up with a less pathetic idea than camping outside of the convenience store just to bump into you.

“What?” He blinked at the younger, confused.

“You are sighing so much,” Woonhak furrowed his eyebrows, visibly worried. Probably because it wasn’t Jaehyun’s default behavior.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat but then forced himself to process the younger’s previous words. “Wait! Was it you? We are so gonna get those donuts now. You’re paying.”

Woonhak whined, pretending to be annoyed when he was pulled out of his seat, towards the door but he laughed anyway when his pout managed to convince Jaehyun not only to let him choose the flavors but to pay as the older as well. Pretending to be fine mission: success.

Another week passed and Jaehyun was high on energy this time because after his newfound inspiration and determination, all of their hard work seemed to finally pay off: it was officially confirmed that they would debut. At the end of May, their dreams would finally come true. A new life would begin.

If being a trainee getting ready for monthly evaluations was hard, preparing for a debut was twice as tiring. They had photoshoots, video shoots, concept meetings, stage name discussions, album recordings, dance practices with their songs. It was everything Jaehyun had ever wanted and more, it was overwhelming but in a good way, so in the midst of it all, he kind of forgot about the whole umbrella ordeal. He treasured the memory of meeting you and kept it as something to keep him going on bad days.

But of course, it had to be a day when he went out for an evening run (which he hated but Sungho and their choreographer nagged him about to build up stamina), so he was sweaty and panting when he ended up at the store again afraid of dying out of dehydration if he kept going without water. He jogged to the fridges in the back and grabbed the first cold bottle he saw before heading to the checkout area only to freeze a few steps away when he saw you behind the register. Your hair was up this time too, only a few locks falling into your eyes that sparkled like stars in the sky.

“Is everything okay?” you asked in that kind voice that he thought he would only hear in his dreams again and Jaehyun had to remind himself to act normal.

“Uhm, yeah, fine. More than fine actually,” he fumbled with his words and wanted to slap himself for it. Who the hell was more than fine when he was sweating bucks and could barely gulp with how dry his mouth was? He crossed that two meters between you and put the water bottle on the counter, watching you scan the item, more hair falling into your face as they slipped from behind your ears. Jaehyun’s fingers itched to fix it but that would have been creepy and rude as hell so he closed his fingers into fists next to his side.

“Sorry, I forgot to bring back the umbrella,” he muttered sheepishly and you looked back at him with a little confused frown on your forehead, then you chuckled. It was music for the boy’s ears, the prettiest symphony.

“Ah, it’s okay, there’s no rush,” you waved it off and asked if it was everything else before activating the card reader terminal. “You didn’t catch a cold, right?”

“No.”

“Good, then I’m glad I could help,” you smiled like it was normal, like you would have done it for everyone which was sweet but also made Jaehyun’s chest ache.

“I just wasn’t sure it would come off wrong if I gave it to somebody else. So I wanted to make sure it was you but you weren’t here last week when I came, so…” Jaehyun knew that he rumbled but he couldn’t stop. He hoped that you found him more cute than weird though because he wanted to keep your eyes on him a little longer.

“Ah, I switched with Daehyeong because he had an exam earlier that day. I work three night shifts and two afternoon ones usually,” you said, listing the days for each which engraved themselves into Jaehyun’s mind as he took the receipt and the bottle from you.

“I will make sure to bring it back one of these days,” he promised enthusiastically to which you smiled and showed him an okay sign formed from your hand so cute Jaehyun swore he almost melted right then and there. You weren’t even trying and it was cuter than Woonhak’s aegyo!

“Careful!” You called after him when he almost walked into the automatically opening door because he was too busy looking back on you. But then you both laughed, him nervously and embarrassed, you a little bit amused and endeared and suddenly, Jaehyun’s lung having a hard time breathing had nothing to do with running.

Sungho was the first person Jaehyun told about you. He thought about going to Sanghyeok or Donghyun for advice but the eldest was the one he could trust to keep his secret even among them and who had a girlfriend before, so he seemed like the most promising option. Not that Jaehyun was going to ask you out on a date! He knew that would have been stupid of him to do so, especially so close to debut but his thoughts kept gravitating back to you. He just wanted to talk to you and he had no experience with other chromosomes other than his own due to the all boys school he attended and the bunch of dudes he spent his teens with in small practice rooms. Company training lessons on how to charm fans didn’t count as experience, so he needed some advice on how to not embarrass himself in front of you or come off too strong. Who knew Sungho’s advice would be so useless?

“Just be yourself.”

“That’s the most cliché thing you could have told me,” Jaehyun deadpanned with a black look.

“Well, it’s a common advice for a reason,” Sungho crossed his arms in front of his chest which made the other boy sigh. Always so logical, he should have known not to come here. Too much T energy for his F to handle.

“Which part of not embarrassing myself did you not get?”

The older boy rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Jaehyun, you have an excited puppy energy, girls love that.”

Oh no, now Sungho’s voice was soft like when he talked to Woonhak when he got a bad grade on a test he actually studied for. It was time to make a joke out of it.

“Well, I will blame you if I pee myself in excitement when our hands touch,” he snorted before mulling over his own words. “Do you think it would be weird as a lyrics?”

Sungho sighed, unimpressed, and didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

Damn Park Sungho and his stupid advice, Jaehyun didn’t feel more prepared (if at all) when he decided to bring the umbrella back. However, it would have been awkward if he waited too long after your last encounter, so he decided to bite the bullet and just go. You recognized him right away and smiled at him widely. Jaehyun really didn’t understand how you could be so bright all the time when it was so late.

“Thanks,” you bobbed your head when he reached the umbrella over and your fingers brushed his when you took it, sending electricity down Jaehyun’s back.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he said, fidgeting with his fingers in front of himself.

“It really wasn’t anything special,” you tried to reassure him but it made the boy pout.

“Ah, so you would have done this for everybody,” he blurted out, sounding more disappointed than he would have admitted, his heart beating loud in his ears.

“Nah, just the cute ones,” you replied while you put the umbrella behind the counter and Jaehyun was sure he misheard you because what? There’s no way you called him cute.

“What?!” He echoed his thoughts and if he looked closer he would have seen your red ears.

“I said not everybody,” you lied after clearing your throat, avoiding his eyes. Gosh, when did it turn awkward? So the boy tried to salvage the situation.

“I’m Jaehyun by the way,” he spoke up as casually as he could manage and he probably did a good job because you didn’t look weirded out. Not until you introduced yourself and he blurted out that he knew. “I mean, it’s on your name tag,” he explained hastily with a relieved giggle when you laughed it off too.

And it somehow became a habit: Jaehyun came by once or twice a week, buying small things like snacks or drinks and he chatted with you. Nothing special, just a bit about your days (your university classes and his newest story about his roommates that made you smile), snack flavor preference (you liked veggie chips while he preferred barbeque flavor), the weather (you liked clear nights the best because the moon was so pretty) and music (he might have fanboyed a bit too hard when you said you were waiting for Jungkook’s next single to drop because same!). Not to mention that you listening to kpop meant you wouldn’t find his career path offputting, so Jaehyun became a bit more sure that he would tell you about it one of these days.

For a while he thought that his most awkward visit was that one time when Dongmin dragged him to the convenience store for a late night snack and he tried very hard not to make it obvious in front of his group mate that he was crushing on you but failed miserably because when he went to get chopsticks for themselves, you smiled at him and he almost tripped. He thought he managed to recover quickly enough for the other boy to not notice but the younger’s shiteating grin was enough to dash his hopes.

“So she’s your sudden muse, huh?” Dongmin raised a brow teasingly and Jaehyun hissed at him to shut up, an unexpected change in their usual dynamics.

However, his next visit topped the most awkward encounter ever. This time when he went back, there was only silence greeting him instead of your usual cheerfulness and it took the boy no longer than two seconds to realize that it was because you were soundlessly sleeping over the counter next to the cash register.

It certainly didn’t look like the most comfortable position for your back and Jaehyun was sure there was some kind of rule against being asleep on the clock but he couldn’t make himself wake you up. You looked so peaceful and so pretty. Your cheeks rounded as they were squished against the desk, pink lips in a pout, eyelashes fluttering slightly like butterfly wings. Jaehyun was mesmerized, writing a song about your sleeping beauty in his head already. 

Then the idyll was broken when the automatic door opened revealing a tired university student and you blinked your eyes open. You probably noticed him creepily staring, so Jaehyun panicked and grabbed the first thing from the display next to him that he could reach and dropped in front of you without looking, trying to act cool while not making you feel bad for taking a nap.

You cleared your throat, straightened your back, looking at him sheepishly with big doe eyes and an apologetic smile which he reciprocated… only for it to drop when his gaze followed yours and settled on the item on the counter between the two of you.

A box of extra large condoms.

Jaehyun never wanted Earth to open up and shallow him more than in that moment, he might have as well just died of embarrassment, but before he could have snatched it back and fumble over his words to try to find a believable excuse how he could grab it instead of for example a pack of chewing gum, you had already scanned it with a forced smile as the professional you were.

The boy’s body acted on its own entity, detached from his currently cursed soul and he paid, leaving the shop with 10000 won shorter and condoms he wasn’t going to use. Like have you seen his chronically single ass? He couldn’t even hold a conversation with a girl he liked, not to mention getting laid. Jaehyun wanted to bang his head into a wall. He didn’t know how he was going to look you into the eyes after this.

To Donghyun’s credit, he at least tried not to laugh when Jaehyun caved and told the younger about his dilemma. If it was Sungho with his ijbolism he would have already been on the floor barely catching his breath. Especially because it was him being himself after his oh so great advice!

“You know you could be just honest. Maybe she will find it cute that you were too distracted by her beauty to check what you were getting,” Donghyun said with a little hum, his mouth curled up in a smile but his attention back on his fish.

“Nope. No way. It might make her uncomfortable,” Jaehyun shook his head, not risking it. He didn’t want to burden you with his feelings when he knew he wasn’t in the position to pursue them even if you gave him a chance.

“Then just tell her it was a prank gift if it comes up,” the younger shrugged and while it sounded like an actual reasonable idea, it still required Jaehyun to discuss the topic with you, so needless to say he concluded that the best thing he could do was to avoid you forever. It wasn’t ideal per se but nor was the timing and dramatic situations called for drastic measures (or something like that).

So he didn’t plan to go back to the convenience store ever but what was he supposed to do when during one of his night runs (he was now torturing himself without Sungho’s prompting too) he saw a quite drunk looking man enter the building? He had to make sure you were okay.

Still, he hoped that his gut feeling was wrong and that he was in for another embarrassing encounter instead of you being cornered by a stranger but when he stepped inside the store only to see you pulled away from the counter as much as you could while the drunkard swung a soju bottle in the air, he knew he made the right call.

“Hey, leave her alone!” Jaehyun raised his voice without thinking it through. He just wanted the dude to get away from you because he looked threatening enough but the moment the man’s attention turned to him, he internally panicked because heck, he had a music video shooting in two days, the makeup artist noonas would kill him if he got punched. Or worse, what if Dispatch finds out that he got into a fight before debut? He would ruin everything. Zico PD would be so disappointed. He was supposed to be the leader after all.

“Stay out of it, kid,” the man slurred and your big doe eyes were on him too, wary and partly  relieved. It gave Jaehyun the boost he needed.

“I saw you pocket drinks. I’m calling the police,” he found his voice again enough to bluff seeing the stuffed coat on the other but he was either right or the man was drunk enough not to care.

“Mind your own business,” he muttered but with big bravado he stumbled out of the store, bumping his shoulder into Jaehyun’s most likely on purpose.

“Gosh, thank you so much,” you let out a long breath and finally your tensed shoulders relaxed.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, worried because even though you seemed physically okay, it must have been scary. Like even he almost shat himself while trying to assert dominance with eye contact. If Dongmin ever heard about it, he would have surely suggested to him to bark next time with how keen he was on teasing him for his usual puppy-like behavior. But look at him now winning an alpha staredown! He was definitely a wolf!

“Yes, it’s just… he wanted cigarettes too and got angry when I asked him to pay for the drinks first,” you said, still a bit shaken up but much calmer now.

Jaehyun wished he could see your lovely smile again and suddenly his last visit’s embarrassing outcome was the least of his worries. He decided to stick around, so he bought cup noodles and prepared it in the store’s self-catering corner while stealing glances at you. It was a quiet late night like usual, so you didn’t have much to do behind the register but still he was quite taken aback (and his heart started beating like a drum) when you decided to leave your post and sit beside him on one of those plastic chairs.

You talked about sweet little nothings like the passing cherry blossom season, favorite movies, your annoying professors and as cliche as it is, time flew by. You only realized how much when the guy for the next shift arrived.  You excused yourself to get changed and grab your things while Jaehyun cleaned up the table where he had his late night meal. When you emerged from the staff room, saying goodbye to the other employee, you seemed a bit surprised to see the boy still there which made him scratch the back of his neck bashfully.

“I will walk you to the bus stop. He might be still out there,” he explained himself and could only hope it didn’t sound as lame as he thought so. It was clearly an excuse but you let him get away with it with an easy smile.

Jaehyun’s heart couldn’t catch a breath as you were walking side by side, arms brushing from time to time, chattering about the constellations above, asking for his zodiac, pointing out stars he could only see reflected in your eyes. He had never been so enamored by anybody and he wished to keep this feeling forever fluttering in his chest.

“Are you okay?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts which made him stumble upon his words.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he smiled, not wanting to worry you, swinging his intertwined finger behind him because he didn’t know what to do with them. He had to keep himself occupied otherwise he would have done something stupid like reaching out to hold your hand with the excuse of dark, late night.

Your bus came just on time and for once, Jaehyun would have liked for it to be late because he could have listened to you talk about the sagittarius constellation until dusk but he didn’t want to keep you up either and the reasonable part of his brain also knew that he would regret staying up so late.

“Thank you again for earlier. And for keeping me company. I had fun,” you smiled at him, waving him goodbye which he could only reciprocate, starstruck.

The debut date was on the corner and with that, all of them got even busier, not to mention, the six boys crammed in a small place were supposed to move dorms too. Jaehyun should have been happy and don’t get him wrong, he was! This was what he had been waiting for, why he spent years in smelly training rooms until his muscles ached. This was what he wanted but a part of him couldn’t move past the fact that moving meant that your workplace wouldn’t be in the vicinity anymore, so he told himself that it was now or never. He would tell you about his well-kept secret and hope for the best. For what exactly he wasn’t sure but still.

He went back to the convenience store at the usual time since he had known your schedule by heart by then and there was no way he would have forgotten. But when he walked inside the store with his signature smile, you were nowhere to be found. There was another girl with bright dyed hair behind the counter flipping a magazine.

“Sorry, did Y/N change her schedule?” Jaehyun found himself asking, this time knowing better than to succumb to moping without questioning first.

“Oh, she resigned, wants to focus on studying more,” the girl replied after popping out the chewing gum in her mouth. Then after a pause, she asked: “Are you Jaehyun?”

The boy was taken aback. Knowing that you had told your coworker about him turned his ears red as he nodded slowly.

“She said to give you this if you come around,” the  cashier said and handed over a familiar transparent umbrella with a pink post-it note saying ‘monsoon season is coming. take care :)’ and while it was sweet and maybe it was for the better this way with his debut on the corner, Jaehyun had no idea a heart could be broken so gently.

4.5 YEARS AFTER DEBUT

The crisp of cold pinched Jaehyun’s cheeks as he exited the black van immediately blinded by the flash of cameras. He bowed and smiled towards the fans, waving and posing until a hand on his back reminded him to move forward.

Inside the broadcasting station there was a different kind of chaos: staff members running around, makeup artists touching up his face, professional cameras set up around, his manager reminding him to promote the upcoming concert as if he could forget. They sold out the Olympic Stadium after all, Jaehyun was still giddy (and nervous and awestruck) about the fact.

He greeted the veteran host of the radio show with a practiced, professional smile. He had gotten used to solo schedules early thanks to his MCountdown MC days, so he didn’t find it as nerve wracking as others did. He still remembered seeing the ever so (seemingly) all cool and aloof Dongmin shake with nerves before he left for his first meeting as a producer. These days, with their group’s reputation secured after hits that won Song of the Year awards dusting on their company’s shelf, they had more of these solo jobs, each of them doing their own thing: Sungho trying out acting, Sanghyuk choreographing for rookies and helping trainees, Dongmin writing songs for names even bigger than theirs, Donghyun narrating a wildlife documentary series, Woonhak having his own show while Jaehyun was busy with variety shows. Just to list a few of the things they were doing between comebacks and group schedules. Fans and the general public loved them, Jaehyun for example was dubbed as the nation's puppy boyfriend after he was deemed very boyfriend material on a Running Man episode simply for being more considerate than competitive.

It was exactly how the radio show host introduced him as too right after the greeting segment of the morning radio broadcast.

“Jaehyun-ssi, it’s so nice to have you here,” the woman turned to him and the idol grinned, boyish charm still clear on his face.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh, I heard you would be a sweet talker,” the lady chuckled and Jaehyun joined in, used to the Butter Myung allegations since his own members liked to call him out on it too. It had become a thing early on.

“Only for noona… and Onedoors,” he winked into the camera because it came easy and because the reactions were good. The host seemed to enjoy his presence as well or was just as professional at her job as he was. They talked a bit in general about the day’s topic a bit and Jaehyun answered a few viewer’s questions in-between played songs. He talked about preparing for the Stadium concert and an upcoming album as well as what he had been up to lately.

“So tell us about the OST you wrote for MBC’s new hit drama. It’s been charting high ever since its release, right?” The lady grabbed this chance to inquire about In every lifetime, it’s you.

Jaehyun wasn't the first one who had a solo OST deal (it was Sungho for one of the first dramas he acted in as a support character) but he was the first one who was involved in the production, even allowed to write the lyrics in the concept of first love. The idol’s fingers twitched in his lap with the urge to scratch the back of his neck as he thought back on the dozen songs he had written about you and then kept in a hidden folder on his computer because they all sounded too real, too close to what he felt. Pouring his feelings into an OST for a drama was different because there was less promotion period if any and it was less unlikely that his members called him out on his sappiness every time they had to perform it. So he talked about the production, how quick it went and how taken aback he was by the immensely positive response.

“Is it inspired by real events? Based on your own first love perhaps?” The host inquired, curious, and Jaehyun could already tell that it will be the most rewatched part of the show. They weren’t rookies anymore, they could talk about things like it, past crushes or even exes. Sure, some might get upset but most fans moved on quickly and such things couldn’t ruin their career anymore.

“You can say so, but my first love was just a one sided crush. She gave me an umbrella on a rainy day, that inspired the song. I still have it, although the second time I got it as a goodbye,” Jaehyun admitted with a nostalgic smile, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy the host’s curiosity. If not, he had the perfect comeback. “My second love for Onedoor remains strong to this day though and I hope it’s mutual.”

“Ah, Jaehyun-ssi, I’m sure it is,” the lady chuckled and added a few words about the drama itself before playing the OST itself. It started with the sound of rain and it made the boy smile because as the lyrics unfolded, the instrumental became livelier and happier too like a rainbow after a sudden storm. Just how your smile and kindness had turned his awful day not so bad.

A few more fan questions were answered, Jaehyun thanked them for their continuous support and mentioned seeing them at the upcoming concert. All went well and Jaehyun felt giddy as he exited the venue like always when he could interact with fans.

He had no idea that on the other side of the city you were listening to the radio show, fingers freezing over the keyboard.

Their schedules were usually tight but Jaehyun enjoyed the buzz of it all. Sure, he liked to laze around in bed but there was nothing like being booked and busy because it really showed just how far they had come. There were times when they were exhausted but after being in the industry for a while they learned how to recognize the signs of burnout or being overwhelmed and they were lucky enough to have Zico PD-nim on their side. Their hyung might have been serious about music but he prioritized their health over profit enough to stand by them against shareholders who were in it for the money and not the music. He also reminded them to just have fun… within reasonable limits. Being an idol wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, there was dieting, being followed by Dispatch and sasaengs breaking into their hotel rooms or mobbing them at the airport. But at those times Jaehyun reminded himself that he had his best friends with him and they were doing what they loved. What more could he ask for?

So Jaehyun didn’t complain even if he spent long hours at the studio yesterday night but had to wake up at the crack of dawn to make it to the filming studio for their new MAC lipstick ad. Four hours of individual and group shots but at least they only had one set of clothes this time, an elegant black and white suit and tie combo for all of them. Jaehyun teased Woonhak about looking like a real adult now as if he hadn’t seen a boy in a similar attire three weeks ago at an award ceremony. But their maknae was way too cute when he pouted, so he couldn’t miss this chance.

“We’re starting off with the group shots. Are all of you ready?” An employee from the filming crew came up to them and the group members nodded, following him to the set with black background.

Once they took their place and turned around, they bowed to the staff: cameramen, photographer, stylists who would touch their makeup up, concept director, marketing and PR people from MAC next to their manager. For a moment – a moment too long – Jaehyun’s gaze got stuck on a figure on her phone, hair up with claw clips, voice like happy little chimes at Christmas, a vaguely familiar sound that knocked the air out of his chest.

“Jaehyun?” Sungho hissed, nudging him in the side when the silence stretched too far and everybody looked at them expectedly. Jaehyun cleared his throat.

“Who’s there? Boynextdoor! Hello, we’re Boynextdoor, please take care of us,” he bowed again and the others followed his lead like always. No matter how much they (especially Dongmin) teased him, they always followed him with unconditional trust. Jaehyun loved them like brothers.

The leader was out of it now though, so he had to blink to regain focus. It wasn’t the first time he imagined seeing you again. He had imagined (and written out) a bunch of different scenarios how it would play out but nothing ever happened. Korea wasn’t a small country after all, hell even Seoul was too big to just stumble upon you. He needed to get it together.

The photoshoot started with the group shots and Jaehyun managed to collect himself enough to follow instructions and channel through his inner model that he developed over the years. The photographer seemed satisfied with their work as well because everything went smoothly and they didn’t have to do many retakes. Once it was done, the individual shots followed. They played rock, paper, scissors (the ultimate solution for everything) earlier to decide the order and since Sanghyuk won, he was the first one to go. This way, once he was gone he could have done anything he wanted – sleep, play, hold a live, whatever – until the others were on.

Jaehyun was the third, which wasn’t bad but wasn’t really good either. He didn’t have enough time for a nap but he had more time to kill than just to wait around, so he decided to get drinks from the food support trucks their fan clubs had sent for their schedule. He asked the others if they wanted anything before taking off. First, he took pictures with the trucks to upload to social media later then got an iced americano for himself and another for Woonhak as if the youngest didn’t have enough energy without the caffeine.

Going back to the building, he literally tripped when he saw you.

Again. And this time there was no mistaking, no questions about it. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was you right then and right there, in front of him, talking with another staff member animatedly. After all these years you still looked like you were in his returning daydreams: all kind smiles and refreshing aura. Except that this wasn’t a dream. You might have lost the baby fat in your cheeks and your hair might have gotten longer, your smile was still dimpled. Instead of the convenience store uniform you had worn over your casual jeans-tee combo back then, now you dressed business casual and it was funny, really, because he went from sweatpants and hoodies to suit and tie as well. At least for now.

It was Woonhak who pulled him out of his reverie, waving a hand in front of his face before taking his coffee. (Luckily years of dance practices gave Jaehyun a good enough balance to upright himself before spilling coffee all over the ground and himself.)

“Hyung, come on… be at least a bit more subtle,” the boy sighed, rolling his eyes as if saying he couldn’t believe that Jaehyun was older than him and still acted like this. However, the leader couldn’t care less about the fact that he was acting embarrassing or not. He tugged on Woonhak’s jacket while still staring at you.

“It’s her,” he whispered as if he wasn’t already terribly obvious while the younger one was casually sipping on his drink.

“Huh?”

“The umbrella girl,” Jaehyun clarified, which made the youngest’s eyes turn into big saucers before turning towards you.

More or less, the group knew about you and about Jaehyun’s hopeless crush. It was hard not to with how treasured that umbrella was that he always carried with himself as a lucky charm or how many songs he had written with you in his thoughts.

No wonder Woonhak started slapping him on the shoulder out of excitement but he did his best at not saying anything out loud which in itself was already a relief. Him shuffling towards the others to relay the news or Jaehyun tapping his feet out of nervousness before his turn not so much. The thought of you watching him work made him super aware of every tiny detail and he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted you to see him and remember and see how far he had come. But he never caught you watching in-between takes when he could look away from the camera. You were either on the phone or talking with somebody.

Little did he know that you looked whenever he looked away.

He couldn’t find you after the shooting was done. Actually the entire MAC staff seemed to leave early but it still felt unfair. Having seen you and you slipping through his fingers again drove Jaehyun crazy. Especially because the photos came out well. He looked good enough to impress. It was such a wasted chance.

Should he send flowers to your workplace? Would that be too much? Too random?

There he was back with his overthinking and moping.

However, the next day, his phone buzzed with a message from their manager saying that he can’t pick them up to take them to the studio because he has to swing by at the MAC headquarters for some promotional products and the idol immediately perked up because wait! That was your workplace!

“Guys, guys, guys!” He shrieked, jumping up on his feet, startling Sanghyuk who was dozing off next to him on the couch. “I think I just got a sign from the universe telling me to go for it.”

With their individual activities and single rooms in their newest dorm, it was a rare occurrence that all of them were together but most of them still hung out in shared spaces like the living room when they had nothing to do. That was how Jaehyun got Sanghyuk and Dongmin there to witness his reaction and he pushed his phone into their faces. Luckily the guys looked interested enough in his sudden love life to listen to his ramble whether it had been weird if he went too and what he should have done if you weren’t there despite all his efforts. Oh gosh, maybe he shouldn’t go after all, because what if you were there? He could make a fool of himself.

“Jeez, hyung, and regret it for years again? You are not a trainee anymore with an uncertain future. You are one of the biggest names of our generation,” Dongmin huffed, then after a short pause and a bite of his snack, he added: “By the way I will deny it if anyone asks if I said that.”

It didn’t tamper Jaehyun’s hyped up mood though because that was true, things were really different from what they had been like five years ago.

“Thanks, Dongmin-ah, you are right,” he nodded to himself with his eyes lit up. He scrambled to get up from the couch quickly. He needed to decide on his outfit! He couldn’t go to MAC looking the same way (comfort over fashion) as he planned to lock himself into his studio.

“I’m always right,” Dongmin mumbled under his nose just as Jaehyun disappeared into his room after he shot a casual enough ‘can i tag along?’ message to their manager. Even if the man was surprised about his sudden interest in marketing procedures, he didn’t protest, just told him the time to be ready by if he wanted to come along.

Once they arrived at the office building and their manager was busy with paperwork and the gift bags, Jaehyun tried to hold himself back but even he was aware that he was perching over cubicle walls like an eager puppy waiting for its owner to take him out on a walk. He heard whispers following him, some employees asking another if it was The Myung Jaehyun or they were just seeing things. Jaehyun smiled at them with his most charming smile instead of confirming with words.

Was it considered stalking? He was just at your workplace and it wasn't without reason, so it wouldn’t have been a lie either if you asked about it. Jeez, why was he so nervous? He had performed in front of thousands and was used to live TV appearances. Worst case scenario you didn’t remember him and he only embarrassed himself in front of you which wouldn’t have been the first time nor the second. He could do it!

Jaehyun was in the middle of giving himself a pep talk when he saw a woman he had seen you talk to at the shooting and he did his best to subtly follow her to the print room.

“Excuse me…”

“Oh, Jaehyun-ssi, what are you doing here?” The woman blinked in surprise when she recognized him and the idol had no choice but to use his smoldering smile that often managed to get people to do exactly how he wanted. As casually as he could to not get follow-up questions, he asked if you were still in the office at which the lady furrowed her brows, asking back to confirm that she heard your name correctly.

“She just left actually. I saw her by the elevators a minute ago. You might catch up to her if it’s really urgent or I can try to help if–”

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help already!” Jaehyun cut her off as politely as he could with a bow before bolting towards the elevators in a totally idol-like sprint. Maybe he should have participated in the running category for the next ISAC.

It was déjà vu really, but only when the automatic doors of the office building opened did he notice that it had started snowing while he was inside. The scenery was breathtaking with petal-like snowflakes dressing the night cityscape whiter. Or was breathing difficult because of his heart beating too fast in his chest? He couldn't have missed you again, right?

Frantic, he looked around in the square in front of the building, looking for your figure while snow was slowly accessorizing his dark hair in big, fluffy flakes and the cold bit into his cheeks. He slid his reddened hands into his pockets because he forgot his gloves, not expecting snow that day.

“Do you still not bring an umbrella with you?” A familiar yet new, sweet voice asked him, amused and Jaehyun blinked the snow out of his eyes to focus on you.

Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, the bottom of your face hidden behind your fluffy scarf but he could tell from your eyes that you were smiling as you held an umbrella over both of you. 

So you remembered! Jaehyun could barely contain his relieved giggle.

“It’s been a while,” he noted instead, not wanting to miss the chance or seeming weird by just staring at you in awe. Gosh, you were so cute. How could you have gotten cuter with age?

“Yeah,” you nodded but didn’t elaborate and Jaehyun couldn’t leave it like that, he couldn’t let it turn awkward.

“Have you been well?” He asked and heck, it was so cliché, so much like small talk between strangers, but he was actually interested in what you had been up to all these years. You didn’t seem to mind, not with the corner of your mouth curling into one of the smiles he loved on you.

It turned out that you managed to graduate with flying colors and eventually get a job as a marketing assistant at MAC which you liked after some not too good experience in the beauty industry. He was happy for you because you deserved only the best. He was also selfish and he wanted more time with you, more privately, so he wouldn’t have those regrets Dongmin mentioned burdening him for not even trying.

“Do you want to, I don’t know, get a coffee? Tea? Dinner?” He found himself asking hastily and gosh, he was a stuttering mess. So much about his cool idol image. Not that you hadn’t seen him at worse but still, it was a new chance to impress you and he was failing terribly.

And maybe he messed up everything because you went awfully quiet at his question, your hand gripping tighter on the umbrella’s handle as you cast your eyes down. Jaehyun prepared himself for rejection even before the words left your mouth.

“I don’t think that’s a wise idea,” you mumbled and he gulped.

Of course it wasn’t.

“Right,” he nodded, a forced, polite smile tight on his lips even though he could practically feel his heart shattering into small pieces all over again.

He knew dating an idol wasn’t ideal, it could be daunting or heck, you might have a boyfriend already. Maybe meeting him made you uncomfortable because you didn’t keep the memories so fondly of him as he did about you.

“But it was nice seeing you again,” you added a bit belatedly and apologetically, turning to leave, to leave him stranded alone in the snowfall. At least it would make another beautiful, tragic love song, Jaehyun thought with his cold lips wobbling.

He let out a quiet sigh or so he thought but you must have heard him because then you stopped on your tracks, stilling, becoming a part of the picturesque view for a long moment before looking back, calling his name.

“Jaehyun… That song about the rain,” you started, quiet and unsure, and the singer could feel his heart’s loud thuds echo in his ears. He held his breath back, waiting for another stab in the heart. “It wasn’t a one sided crush.”

Jaehyun stopped breathing altogether. What?

He must have misheard you, there was no way you said that. It should have been the part where you told him not to write about you because it made you feel uncomfortable.

“You mean you did… That you… You too?” Jaehyun tripped all over his words. Really, for somebody who had songwriting credits on the majority of their award winning hits, it was a new low. He couldn’t even pierce together a sentence.

You closed your eyes for a bit as if to brace yourself before looking him in the eye again and Jaehyun felt the world resume spinning when you nodded. Yet, it only made him even more confused.

“Then… why?” He blurted out and you looked so confused at his question, he had to clarify. “Why isn’t it a good idea?”

A coffee, a tea, a dinner… A date or however you wanted to call it. At his straightforward question though, you looked more flustered than ever.

“I… I don’t know. Shouldn’t you know better? Don’t you have a dating ban or something?” You asked, blinking rapidly, cheeks redder than before and Jaehyun would have liked to think that it was because you blushed and not because of the cold. Especially because it was you who brought up dating!

“Oh, that. No, we don’t have a dating ban,” he cleared his throat, trying to play it off cool but a quiet chuckle still slipped past his lips.

One of the advantages of having an idol as your boss was that he knew exactly what it was like to be in their shoes. Zico himself told them that even with the ban they had found ways to make it work in secret, the risk of getting caught twice as big, so he didn’t want to impose such rules on them. He didn’t encourage it, telling them how unwise it was but still, the company couldn't have done much about it. But they all knew the risk and they were as busy as it got, not really having time for relationships anyway, so Jaehyun didn’t have to worry about it before. Not until you came back into his life.

“So? What do you say about that dinner?” He asked again, hopeful, practically feeling the awkwardness melt around you when you let out a chuckle as melodic as he remembered.

“I could eat,” you admitted and Jaehyun beamed at you, his eyes turning into crescents.

It would have been a perfect moment, a dream coming true, framed by snowflakes gliding in the air… except that his phone started buzzing with a call in his pocket at that moment and the singer swore under his breath when he saw his manager’s contact information on the screen. His disappearance surely got discovered.

“Hey, hyung, something came up, so I left early, but don’t worry, everything’s okay. More than okay actually,” he quickly took the call and ended it immediately, not giving the man a chance to ask questions but hopefully not giving him a heart attack either. Then he turned to you with a wide smile. “Let’s go.”

You chuckled as the two of you synced your steps, walking into a random direction without any concrete destination plans. You even let him take the umbrella from your hand and hold it above your duo himself, your smile shy but genuine when your fingers brushed.

Jaehyun knew that this evening would make an even better love song than the last one.

[sickhabitt]

modern ellie head cannons!

- Ellie would definitely do photography, i mean we SAW photos of dina in her art room and around the house, the photograph of her, Jesse, and dina, i think she'd LOVE to do photography! just as a fun hobby. she definitely has one of those small 60 dollar grainy cameras that she carries around, snapping pictures of anything

-speaking of photos, she definitely would snap pictures of you! she would hang them up around her room, next to her bed or in a small little frame. Like, you standing in the kitchen, sleeping, if you play an instrument, studying, kissing, anything.

- I also think she LOVES hiking, camping, anything involving the wilderness. She could definitely live out there if she wanted too.

-again, topic of wilderness, she probably just grabs random animals and bugs. Like those people who are genuinely NOT scared of the everglades, shes just casually picking up a snake and grinning like she won a TROPHY.

-this might b a reach but, since shes an artistic person, she would probably be super good at makeup. not that she wears it as often, and if she does its just black eyeshadow, maybe blush and her brows. but theres definitely been a few times shes done your makeup and its turned out BETTER then you can even do it.

- her artistic talent has definitely lead to her doing super cute projects, gifts, and activities. Her gifts are 80 percent of the time hand made. she could definitely make some really nice rings, necklaces, everything out of random stones. she would come across something on pinterest and save it into some folder which is filled with things.

- facebook user.

-now if shes working i feel like her jobs could really vary. definitely not a barista because she doesn't like coffee, she prefers tea for sure, but she's definitely in something more artistic or musically involved. Like a record shop, guitar center, book store, maybe a pottery shop where you can MAKE your own pottery, or a jewelry store.

- her room would be a mess. jewelry everywhere, clothes tossed around, random shit tapped to her wall, anything you can think of its THERE.

- a million people have said it before but.. she shit posts like, crazy. She might have a main account for her instagram and she either shit posts to her main story or close friends. OR she has a private spam account, mainly used for stirring shit up with people.

-shes a tea girl! like sweet tea, iced tea, chamomile, green tea, chai, anything TEA wise. she owns it. she probably has some dumb cup specifically for tea, like cups from Spencer's.

- i feel like shes a collector, like bottle caps, pennies, gems, or guitars (if she has that money, but she's definitely broke.)

- definitely a stoner

- as stated like way before, she likes the wilderness, she would LOVE the beach.

- has a old vans shoe box, filledddd with shit from you if youre the gift giving type!

- wears vans or converse, but doesnt even skateboard, just likes the look.

- nails are constantly painted, dark, earthy colors tho, she wouldnt have long nails either, theyre trimmed short because, 1. she hates the feeling of long nails, 2. playing guitar with long nails SUCKS. 3. 🏳️‍🌈

first and maybe last time ill ever probably do smth like this... literally only did this cuz im sick 🤒

HOW CAN YOU HELP PALESTINE? 🇵🇸?