#and I know life isn’t a love story or a pop song

[shorties-unite]

A classic shorties-unite late night posting spree but it’s literally just me posting I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED repeatedly in different wordy variations despite the fact that I know I am very much loved by many people I love and deservedly so. Just maybe not in a romantic way and maybe not by a particular person I would like to be loved by.

Although maybe… it’s not impossible…

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part five)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: the wait is over. yay! This isn’t how I expected this part to end but I let my mind take charge…plans change. I hope the end is okay, i’ve never written anything like that before so i’m a little nervy for y’alls reactions lol. let me know what you guys think! Enjoy <3

part five: new york changes you

The whole ‘friends for now’ deal you set with Hugh has been an enthralling experience so far. A month has passed since that night in your living room, a month of struggling to resist the charisma of Hugh Jackman. Right now, your two lives couldn’t be more different: your album had dropped three weeks ago, one week after the deal was made. It has been an absolute success with four of your songs sitting in the top ten since the drop. You were doing interview after interview and rehearsals for your tour started up this past week. Meanwhile, Hugh was living the simple life. He has been done with his Deadpool and Wolverine promo for some time now and he’s been enjoying his free time. That was something you didn’t have much of as of recent- free time. You were trying to balance the few moments of freedom between all of the people you cared for, which mostly consisted of Ashley and Hugh. It’s gotten to a point where you were inviting your friends to the tour rehearsals just to be able to see them. When the idea first popped up, you had been afraid that they would be too distracting but the outcome was the opposite. Having a mini audience that weren’t part of the tour team, allowed everyone to make changes to things with the input of outside opinions. Ashley and a small group of your other friends were rehearsal regulars now.

You’d been seeing Hugh more privately, both of you agreeing to stay out of the public eye for a little bit while the dating rumors died down. Ashley had been a little too enthusiastic about your decision to be Hugh’s friend and nothing more. You loved reminding her that it was hopefully a temporary situation while we decided if being together exclusively was the right choice for both of us. She liked to ignore that part. Her despisement towards Hugh has been a mystery to you. She was always a little protective over you, as any normal friend would be, but it had never been to this extent. 

“Ash, do you wanna come to rehearsal tomorrow. We’re finally putting the choreography on the actual stage. I think you’ll like it. It’s gonna be fun.” You ask. The two of you were currently at Target shopping for her new apartment. “Uhhh of course. I need to catch up on all of the songs I missed. Then maybe you’ll consider putting me up on stage.” The last sentence comes out more singsongy than usual as she tries to convince you. She has brought up being on stage so often, you were beginning to feel bad, but she was a shit dancer. You didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Cool. I have to be there at seven, but I was thinking you guys could show up at noon. That’s when we’re scheduled to move over to the stage.” Her eyes light up. “Ooo. Who else is coming? Please tell me you invited Taylor again, she’s fun.” She rambles on as she pushes the cart through the lamp aisle. “Oh. I didn’t invite the girls again. It’s uh…it’s just gonna be you and Hugh.” She puts the lamp she’s been observing back onto the shelf. “Actually, I just remembered I have plans tomorrow.” She states flatley and starts to push the cart again. You follow her, waiting until you enter an aisle that was free of people before confronting her. “Ashley, don't be like that.” You whine. “I’m not being like anything y/n. I just forgot I had plans.” She shrugs as she busies herself by looking at the bathroom decor on the shelves. “What do you have against him?” You blurt out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Cut the shit Ash. You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can’t even mention his name without you trying to change the subject. I can’t even talk to my best friend about the guy I like because of this weird fucking grudge you have against him.” She stares at you, giving you a few slow blinks before speaking again. “Fine. I’ll be there but I can’t promise I'll be civil.” 

You didn’t push her any further, her answer was good enough for now. Target wasn’t the right place to fight with her about this and it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. As much as you loved Ashley, she had a tendency to do and say wherever she pleased but when it came back to her, she played victim. It was becoming harder to deal with now that you weren’t children anymore. Later that night, while on facetime with Hugh, you decided to warn him about the shitshow which he was bound to end up in tomorrow.

“I’m not really sure what her deal is honestly. She won’t tell me why she doesn’t like you.” You pout. “It’s okay baby, not everyone is going to like me. I can handle it.” 

The endearments had been something that Hugh didn’t drop after the ‘just friends’ talk. You thought about talking to him about it but the words sounded too good rolling off of his tongue. You argued that it wasn’t any different than your other friends calling you ‘babe’- it wasn’t the same at all but you didn’t care. You knew it meant more to both of you. 

“I know, but it would be really nice if you two could be friends, ya know? She just gets too overprotective I guess…” You tell him, not really believing your own words. “You don’t have to come tomorrow if you don’t want to. We can pick another day for you to come if you feel like it’ll be too awkward.” “Tomorrow is fine y/n. Everything will be okay. Don’t think about it too much, I’m sure I can charm her a little bit, get her on my side.” He assures you.

Ashley was on her worst behavior and it was pissing you off. It felt like you had covered Hugh in blood and thrown him to the sharks- when you think about it, he probably would have had a better shot at fighting off the sharks. The entire day so far had been full of eye rolls and snarky comments. When you had a moment alone with Hugh, all you could do was apologize for her behavior and he swore it was fine, it wasn't your fault. Ashley was acting weird towards you the entire morning. When you offered her to get up and learn some choreo, she brushed you off saying that she still needed to wake up. You glanced over at Hugh and Ashley every few minutes as they talked. It looked civil. The music was too loud to hear what the conversation was about and it was making you nervous. Hugh kept his eyes mostly on you as he spoke but Ashley’s were set on Hugh, never looking your way. You tried your best to ignore it, focusing on doing your job.

 For one of the songs, you would be giving one of the dancers named Ethan a lap dance. He had become a good friend over the past year you had known him and he made the whole grinding on him thing a lot less awkward than you thought it would be. “Are you and eye candy over there still playing friends?” Ethan asks as he gestures towards where Hugh and Ashley sat. “Yes..but it’s more lenient. Kinda like dating but nothing exclusive.” You explain, eyes on Hugh. He’s looking back at you and you’re sure he can tell that you’re talking about him. “You should do the dance for him, since he’s a special guest today and all.” He offers, smirk present on his face. “You don’t think that would be too mean? I want him to want me but I don’t wanna ruin the man. At least not yet anyways.” A similar smirk to Ethan’s was rising to your lips at the thought of Hugh being flustered over you. “I think you should do it.” You think about it for a moment and shame yourself for how quickly you made your decision. “You’re a bad influence.” You tell Ethan. Hugh’s eyes are still on you and you point your finger at him and wiggle it, motioning him to come here. 

“I’m gonna go sit down, have fun.” Ethan says and goes down the stairs to the stage as Hugh walks up them. “What’s up sweetheart?” He asks. “Ethan isn’t feeling well right now, would you mind standing in for him? You don’t have to do anything, just sit in that chair.” You point to the metal fold up chair that sits in the center of the catwalk. “Yea I can do that.” His smile is authentic, happy to help. “Thank you baby.” You say and you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. You pick up the mic that you sat on the stage floor earlier and turn it on. “We’re ready to go for the next one.” You announce through it so the sound crew could hear you. They announce ‘places’ and Hugh sits down in the chair. You walk over to the marker on the floor that indicates your starting position for this song. It’s about five feet behind Hugh’s chair, leaving him clueless on what’s happening. 

The song starts and you strut to the beat until you reach the chair. Your hands are on either side of Hugh’s chest and you move your hands around the same way that you had practiced many times before. His chest was hard and you could feel the muscles of his pecs. You slide your hands up to his shoulders and walk slowly around the chair until you're right in front of Hugh. The song slows at this point, giving the perfect moment for you to slowly drop yourself into his lap, arms around his neck. There’s three quick beats and you bounce up and down. Hugh’s eyes are wide in surprise. He’s a lot taller than Ethan and his thighs hold more muscle. It took a moment to get used to as the routine went on. The entire dance was pretty stereotypical: a lot of grinding, ass popping, and touching. You spent a good majority of the song whispering the words quietly to Hugh. He kept his hands to himself, not wanting to interrupt whatever move you had to do next. When the song ends, you’re out of Hugh’s lap and standing a foot in front of him for your ending pose. The crew gives you the okay to move and you turn back to Hugh, mischief present in your face. “Thank you Hugh!” You squeal, giving him a quick hug once he stands up. “Yea. yea…You’re such a tease.” He says the second part low enough so only you hear. As he walks back to his seat, you could have sworn you saw him trying to discreetly reposition whatever was happening in his pants. 

During your lunch break, Ashley’s strange act continued as she made up some excuse for her to leave- you could tell she was lying. Hugh and yourself ended up ordering subs from some local deli and ate in your dressing room. “So what do you think about everything so far?” You ask, referring to the choreo you’d been learning for the past three hours. “It’s…fun.” You huff at that. “You’re so terrible at describing things Hugh. Oh my god.” You complain. “I’m sorry…It's good.” You give him a blank stare, not satisfied with his answers. “Okay okay, don’t give me that look. You’re phenomenal…watching you dance and feeling you dance on me is making it really hard to just be your friend.” He shrugs, taking another bite of his sandwich. His answer makes you blush, familiar butterflies fly around your tummy. “Oh.” It’s all you could say. “You don’t have to accept my invites if it’s too hard on you.” “Hm. That’s not it, babe. I definitely want to be here. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He winks as he refers to the lapdance. 

Comments like that had been frequent throughout the past month. Hugh Jackman was a natural flirt. That was a fact you had the pleasure of learning from personal experience and the displeasure of learning from the internet. You had seen countless videos of him being a flirty slut- as a married man. It worried you and had been something you’d been thinking about nonstop since the discovery. Him flirting with you was one thing, but you didn’t like the idea of him flirting with others when he was ‘yours’. You’d also seen videos of him mentioning multiple times that he liked older women, which had become another concern that ate at your brain. Last week, Hugh had come over for a movie night and you planned on casually mentioning the apprehension you had around the issue. 

“Sooo, I heard you liked older women?” 

Casual had never been your thing. 

“Uh..yea. It’s a preference of mine.” You could tell that the question made him uncomfortable. The tiny little toxic part of your heart was happy about that. You let out a short hum. “What was that for?”

 “What was what for?” 

 “Your little ‘hm.’.” You shrug as you speak your next words. “It’s just interesting.” 

 “What’s interesting.”  “You having a preference for older women.”  

“How is that any different from you liking older men?” He asks genuinely and you could honestly smack him right now for not seeing the issue and you would if he wasn’t across the couch. “Hm. I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m currently interested in an older man and you’re straying quite far from your preferences Mr.Jackman.” He lets out a deep belly laugh. “Why are you laughing at me?” You cross your arms, a small pout sits on your lips. “You're jealous.” He smirks. “I’m not jealous. I’m skeptical.”  “There's no reason to be.” His eyes are gentle.  “If you say so.” You didn’t want to damper the mood but your mind was filled with ‘what ifs’ and you needed reassurance.

 “Hey. Come here sweet girl.” He motions for you to sit closer to him. You crawl over and his arm drapes over your shoulder. Your head rests on his chest and his cheek is resting on the crown of your hair. “I promise you have nothing to worry about. I like you and only you.” “Pinky promise?” You look up at him, holding out your pinky. He lets out a chuckle and links his pinky with your own. “Pinky promise.” He was looking down at you. You were staring in his eyes, watching the reflection from the flame of the pumpkin pie scented candle that sat on the coffee table flicker. He slowly leaned down, allowing his lips to softly touch yours. It was a lazy kiss, lips moving every few seconds. You could feel every part of Hugh’s lip slide against yours. The slowness of it all was arousing- the heat from his body wasn’t helping. The upward stretch of your neck became sore after a few minutes,  giving you the perfect excuse to climb into his lap. The makeout session lasted about thirty minutes, never speeding up, both of you enjoying the intimacy of the demure, slow kisses. You ground your hips into his in an undemanding manor, not wanting to rush the moment, just needing to feel him against you. A few whispered moans were thrown about, a few neck kisses here and there. The rules were beyond broken that night. You liked to imagine what would have happened if there wasn’t a knock on the door from the food you ordered earlier. 

Your cheeks heat up at the memory as you pick an onion off of your sandwich. Hugh was right, you were a tease. That night, he had initiated the kiss but you turned it into so much more. You could've stopped it, blaming it on the pain in your neck, but you wanted more. With Hugh, you always wanted more. It was your stupid idea to be his friend first and it was torturing you. “What’re you thinking about, pretty girl?” Hugh asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. “Nothing...These onions are too strong.” You flick the onion you picked off onto the paper that was once wrapped around your sub. “You sure that’s it? You can talk to me babe.” He’s sincere. He’s always so patient and caring towards you. It makes your heart swell. “I was thinking about our movie night.” You admit. “Anything in particular from that night?” He asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking about, the wide smirk on his stupid perfect face makes that obvious. “I wasn’t thinking about that, you perv. I was thinking about how I forgot to tell you that I’m going to New York next week.” He didn’t need to know that you were for sure thinking about every detail of his dick that you could remember and you really did forget to tell him that, so you weren’t technically lying. “Hm. I wonder what made you forget?” Smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.” And you did ignore it, immediately talking about your upcoming trip. “It's kinda gonna be my first time there. I performed a show there but I was gone the next day. I have an entire four days to explore this time. Well except for when I work but whatever.” You shrug at the end, voice filled with excitement ready to see the city in its full glory. “What do you have scheduled when you’re out there?” 

“I have a photoshoot, meetings, then the Tonight Show.” 

“First time on Fallon?” you laugh. “First time on any big talk show, I'm so fucking nervous.” 

“Don’t be. Jimmy’s a great guy and you’re good at talking. It’s easy to pay attention to you.” 

“Do you pay attention to me because I'm a good talker or do you pay attention to me because you think I'm pretty.” You were completely fishing for a compliment and you carried no shame for it. “Both.” 

Hugh had become a really good friend and not just because the two of you shared an occasional kiss. He was there for you when you had no one else. The next day, Ashley came over and you tried to ask her why she lied about needing to leave rehearsal early. She either gave a vague answer for each question or completely dodged it. You never asked Hugh about what they talked about, wanting the answer from your best friend, but it was looking like you would have to turn to him to get closer to the truth. You invited her to New York the second you found out you were going. Trying to get her out of her funky mood, you brought it up, asking if she was excited that it was coming up so soon. She quickly agreed to the excitement but each word came out flat and uninterested. About an hour after she left your house, you got a text. 

bestie boo: hey. i’m actually not gonna be able to make it to new york. sorry, ttyl. 

The text caught you off guard but it wasn’t a total surprise due to Ashley’s behavior while she was at your house. That didn’t mean it hurt any less though. The consistent dodginess from her made your throat tighten up. Your first instinct was to text Hugh, so that’s what you did.

You: hey, are you busy rn? 

Hugh <3: Hi baby. No, I'm not busy. What’s up?

You: can you come over? :(

Hugh <3: On my way! 

When you opened the door for him, worry was written on his face. “What’s wrong?” He takes off his shoes, the same way he has the past few times he’s come over. “I feel like you’re always asking me that.” You slump over slightly. “I gotta make sure my girl is okay.” All of the sadness you had over Ashley almost vanished entirely. “I’m your girl?” You ask looking up at him. “Of course you’re my girl y/n. Just waiting for the day you wanna label it.” He smiles down at you and offers his hand. “Now c’mon, tell me what’s got you all blue.” You grab his hand and he follows the familiar route to your living room couch. He sits down and pulls you down towards him. You’re sitting next to him, your side against his. He pulls your legs up so they lay across his lap and he rubs slow circles into your thigh.

 “What’s got that pretty face of yours frowning?” He pinches your thigh lightly as he asks the question. “It’s Ashley, she’s being really weird Hugh. She always tells me things and now she’s just…not.” He has his own frown now. “I’m sorry baby….Is this about me again?” 

“Kinda but not totally. I just wanted to know why she doesn’t like you. You’ve become so important to me and I plan on having you around for a while. She’s been my best friend since we were kids, I want her to like you and be able to be around you.” You put your hands over your eyes, your palms applying  pressure on them to prevent the tears from falling. All the pent up frustration was starting to reach its limit. “Hey, look at me.” He grabs your chin, a gesture he’s done more times than you can count. “Don’t let me come in between your friendships.” You sigh. “It’s not your fault Hugh.” 

“I…I think it might be my fault a little bit.” He admits with a guilty expression, making your heart sting. “What do you mean?” 

“She uh… Ashley might have flirted with me yesterday. I shut it down but…” He sighs nervously. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how to tell you to be honest..” The room around you both felt stuffie and too small. The tears that were held back by the palms of your hands just a few minutes ago, spill out. You were feeling too many emotions: hurt, anger, betrayal. 

This wasn’t the first time Ashley had done something like this. She’d done it with Pedro when the two of you were already together. The only difference is that she felt so guilty that she confessed. This time, Ashley was too much of a coward to tell you what she had done to your face. You didn’t want to lose your best friend but you couldn’t keep her around when all she seemed to do was hurt you. Hugh holds you as you cry, not saying a word. He leaves little kisses on your head and tells you that ‘it’s okay’ over and over. He let you cry without knowing what it was you were crying about. You felt so stupid to have let this slip past you. It had been almost the exact same situation before. Ashley acted weird towards Pedro, she starts being vague, and then you find out what she did. Déjà fucking vu. You couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s funny sweetheart?” Your mind had been racing so fast, you almost forgot that Hugh’s was still here holding you. He had gone still, the only reminder of his presence was the weight of his arms around you. “I just can’t believe she did it again without me noticing. I feel dumb.” His body jerks in surprise. “Again?” 

—

It was Saint Patrick's day and you were at Ashley’s place getting ready for a party. It was a weird holiday to throw a party for but people used any excuse to get drunk. Leading up to this day, Ashley has been yapping non stop about going to her first celebrity party but tonight, she couldn’t have been more quiet. You excused her behavior for nerves, not questioning it more. Her demeanor has been different for a few days. Ashley wasn’t one to open up quickly or talk about her problems. You only pried as much as you could before being shut out and right now you had been completely blocked off. You tried your best to ignore it, trying to focus on the night ahead of you. 

Billie is who had invited you to the party as the two of you grew close. Being the same age, doing the same job, and experiencing the same things made it impossible for the two of you not to be friends. The party was going to be filled with people you’d never met before, so you asked her if you could bring a person or two- Ashley and Pedro. It was when you told Ashley that Pedro would also be coming, that her prior eagerness for the party dissipated. 

Just as you sat down to start your makeup, Ashley finally spoke. “Y/n…I think I’m gonna skip out on the party tonight.” You lift your head to look at her through the mirror.“What, why? We’ve been talking about this for weeks.” 

 “I just don’t feel like going anymore.” She’s scrolling through her phone. “You’re such a shitty liar, Ash. What’s up? Why don’t you wanna go anymore?” You turn the spinny chair your in to face her. She put her phone down and the look on her face was one you wouldn’t ever forget. It was a look full of guilt, shame. You were trying to comfort your best friend while she was about to tell you the most heat shattering words. “I don’t think it’s smart to be around Pedro.” Your brows knit together in confusion. “Why not. I thought you guys were good now, that you liked him?” She’s fidgeting with her hands. “Y/n we kissed.” 

“Who kissed?” You ask, hoping you were misinterpreting what she was saying. “Me and Pedro.” You hadn’t misunderstood her words. 

Your heart shattered. Pedro has only been your boyfriend for a little over a month but it still hurts. You were still in the honeymoon phase, where everything felt like love even though it was just over infatuation with the new relationship. Without thinking about it, you started collecting your things to leave, gathering the makeup you just placed onto the table back into its bag. “What are you doing?” Ashley asks nervously. “I’m leaving.” She didn’t try to stop you. 

When you got home, you felt numb. There was a strong ache in your chest where your heart sits but there wasn’t an ounce of emotions flowing through you. The betrayal of the person you trusted most in this life was worse than any other pain you could think of. You spend hours laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock finally pulls you out of whatever trance you were in. “Hey baby. Ashley texted me saying I should come check on you.” He steps into the house and follows you down the entry hall. “Oh I didn’t know you guys were on texting terms now…” You trail off for a second, not leaving Pedro enough time to say anything before you speak again. “Huh…You know, I guess it would make sense, seeing as you guys are apparently on kissing terms.” You stop and stare at him, looking dead in his eyes. He winces. “She told you about that.” The statement pisses you off. “What the fuck do you mean ‘she told you about that.’? Were you planning on keeping it a secret?” Your voice gradually rises alongside the anger in your body. “No, but I-” 

“but fucking what Pedro? You kiss my best fucking friend and then hide it from me??” Your finger hurts from the pressure of pointing it into his chest. “I didn’t kiss her.” You ignore him. “When did it happen?” “Baby, listen to me. I didn’t kiss Ashley.” He ignores you. “WHEN DID IT HAPPEN?” You scream at him, all of the emotions spilling over. You sink down to the floor, abandoning your prior standing position, and you cry. 

“I didn’t kiss her babygirl. I would never hurt you like that.” He sits down next to you, his back against the wall. You don’t speak. “It was last Tuesday, when she came over to talk to me like you asked her to. She said it was because you wanted her to like me, for us to be friends. She started acting differently and before I knew it she was kissing me. That’s all that happened baby.” He explains as he runs his fingers along the baby hairs on your forehead. “You didn’t kiss her?” You look into his big brown puppy eyes, searching for the truth. “I didn’t kiss her.” He affirms. “I promise, babygirl.” 

“Pinky promise?” He interlocks his pinky with yours. 

You didn’t speak to Ashley for two weeks after that incident. You wanted so badly to know why she did it, but in the end you didn’t think it mattered, each outcome still ended with her being a selfish person- a bad friend. You didn’t really talk things out either but you decided to forgive her. The friendship was too important to you at the time to give up but you wouldn’t let her be anywhere near Pedro again. The idea of them being friends was out the window. 

—

 “What a bitch.” His thick accent shining through extra hard with his own anger.- it makes you laugh. “I don’t even know what to do at this point. I don’t think I can trust her anymore.” he nods in agreement. “I know sweetheart but I'm here for you, no matter what you decide to do. Okay?” it's your turn to nod. “Okay. Thank you Hugh, really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You look up at him, giving him a small smile and a quick kiss on his side. “You know what sucks more than possibly losing my best friend for good?” You ask, humor shines in your eyes. “What’s that?”

“Losing my New York tour guide.” He laughs. “You’re laughing now, but it’s serious. She created these crazy itineraries for us to be the most obnoxious tourist. Now I have to rely on my own planning skills, which aren’t great.” Hugh goes quiet for a moment. You search his face for his thoughts and he seems unsure of what he’s about to say. 

“I could..uh. I could go to New York with you. I kinda need to go anyways, been meaning to go.” He says and when you don’t speak right away, he panics. “You don’t have to say yes. I know we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I understand if you want some time for yourself..” You giggle at his overthinking. “Hugh, I would love for you to come to New York with me.” He lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding. “Okay good. That’s great! I needed to go back a few weeks ago actually so this works out for the both of us.” 

“Why didn’t you go back when you needed to?” His cheeks go red. “Oh my god! You totally stayed because of me didn’t you?”

 “Maybe..” He admits. “I was scheduled to fly back to New York before your album party, but then you texted me. I couldn’t pass that up.” 

“You keep acting like this and you’re gonna make me fall in love with you Hugh Jackman.” A smug smile falls onto his lips. “You better.” 

The few days leading up to you leaving for New York were short. Hugh left for the city the next day, promising he would see you the moment you landed, sealing the promise with a quick kiss. You busied yourself with tour rehearsals and interview prep. It had been a lonely few days. Hugh was gone and you weren’t talking to Ashley, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You and Hugh texted daily but it wasn’t the same as being in his presence, a presence you had come to enjoy having around. You were close to saying ‘fuck it’ and be fully committed to him but a part of you was still hesitant. Too much has happened recently, it feels like you can’t think straight half the time. Your last relationship was only a few months ago, your best friend was trying to steal every man you liked, and you’re at the peak of your career. You needed a mental breather. 

LAX airport was cold and stuffy. People were walking casually towards their destination with a few runners here and there. While you loved traveling, airports made you feel uneasy. There were so many people going to the most random places on the most random days and random times. It was uncomfortable to think about. You sat there in silence, too afraid to wear headphones. You liked to know what was happening around you at all times, a freak peeve. When it was finally time to board the plane, you were already exhausted from it all. Almost seven hours later, you landed at JFK airport in New York City. Once you turn off airplane mode on your phone, you see a few texts from Hugh. He insisted that he could pick you up from the airport and take you to your hotel. Your ‘personal chauffeur” he jokingly called himself. You texted Hugh back as people hurriedly grabbed their belongings and scurried down the thin aisles. 

You: just landed! see you soon hot stuff ;)

He told you beforehand that he made arrangements to pick you up in a private area, away from prying eyes. You weren’t nearly famous enough to know what that means, so you simply followed the instructions he gave you. It was a little confusing at first, having only been in the busy airport once before. With some help from workers, Hugh was finally in your view. He had a big smile on his face with his arms open wide for you. You walked with a little pep in your step, suitcase rolling behind you. When you got close enough, you let the handle go and ran the rest of the short distance to Hughs arms. His embrace was warm and welcoming, a familiar place. 

“Missed you sweet girl.” He mumbles into your hair. You pull back slightly, arms still holding him. “Missed you too.” Your voice is shy, almost forgetting how it felt to have his attention on you. You had missed him, more than you thought you would. Hearing his voice again made life feel real again after the past mundane days you’ve endured. The walk to his car was intimate- his arm sat atop your shoulders as you walked side by side. He insisted on rolling your luggage for you and wouldn’t take no for an answer when you protested. A true gentleman. He opened the passenger door for you, making sure you were in before putting your suitcase in the trunk and hopping into the driver's side. He looked a lot more presentable than you did. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt that hugged his biceps in a way that almost made you drool. It was simple but he looked delicious. Your sweats and hoodie couldn’t compare. His beard had finally grown in, no longer the prickly stubble that rested there a month ago. It was full and you hoped he would let it grow to that length that made him look even more expensive. 

“The option to stay at my place is still on the table if you want it babe.” He says, resting his hand on your thigh as he begins to pull out of the hidden parking lot. There was something so attractive about a man driving. Hugh’s side profile was godly and him driving really did something to your brain. “That wouldn’t be very friendly of us Hugh.” You rest your hand on top of his. “I think that’s the friendliest thing I could possibly do. Offer you a place to stay while in town instead of staying in a dingy hotel.” He eggs on trying to convince you. He first pitched the idea the night he offered to come to New York with you. You immediately declined, not wanting to invade his space. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, it made things too real. He had been over to your house countless times, but you had never been to his. You thought it best to keep it that way. You weren’t sure you could control yourself around him when you were surrounded by all things him. “Nothing is ever friendly between us Hugh.” He squeezes your thigh. “I have to argue with you there baby. In my humble opinion, we are too friendly.” He glances over to you and gives you a wink. He hasn’t been afraid of letting his intentions known. To let you know that he wants you, not as a friend. You’ve seen just how bad he craved you and it was tempting. He knew he had a dangerous effect on you, one that you worked really hard to control. 

“You’re always so horny.” You mumble. “It’s hard not to be when I have a gorgeous girl like you around all the time.” God he was so good with his words. His voice and his way of speaking. It was no mystery as to why he had people swooning for him left and right- you included. “Whatever.” You open your phone to text Stacy, letting her know you landed and in good hands. It was weird flying solo. You got so accustomed to flying along Ashley or Stacy. You weren’t particularly mad at the change if it meant you got to see Hugh’s face light up just at seeing you again. “Will you at least come over once?” He asks, hopeful. “I’ve seen your house, I’d really like you to see mine. It’s where I live most of the time. It would mean a lot.” The squeeze on your thigh lingers, his grip lasting longer than the previous one. You didn’t know how to explain that you really didn’t want to do that- be in his house. You didn’t think he would understand what you mean when you say ‘it’s too much’. The desperation in his voice, the yearning he felt to have you in his home. You couldn’t say no. “Yea I can do that.” The small smile that rested on his lips grew, his face lighting up. It made your stomach twist up in knots. 

The hotel that Stacy booked for you was grand. The elegance and class in the places you’ve stayed at while traveling has never failed to amaze you. Growing up, your family didn’t have a lot of money. When you went on family trips, the cheapest hotel, usually a motel 6, was your usual nightly accommodations. The places you stayed in now would have little you screaming and running around. The whole ‘entering fame’ process had been a huge culture shock that you were still learning to navigate appropriately. 

“Hm. Not too shabby, my house is better though.” Hugh says as he sits your luggage to the side. He had put a hat and sunglasses on, trying to make it less obvious that it was him- trying to hide that it was him who was with you. The hat, sunglasses, and beard combo was doing a number on your body. It took a lot of strength to keep yourself from dragging him to the bed and riding him until you were satisfied. Though, you’re not sure that you could ever be fully satisfied with Hugh. Not because you were scared he wouldn’t be good in bed but because you knew once he had you, you would need him again and again until you physically couldn’t handle him anymore. You  felt him that one night on the couch, movie night, you knew that man was packing and that it wouldn’t take much for him to bruise your cervix.

 “Hugh, please.” You warn him. He puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry…Just don’t forget that it’s an option.” “I don’t think you’d let me forget..” You let out a breathy laugh after. Hugh sits down at a small table and watches you as you walk around, exploring the room. You unpack a few things to make it easier on yourself later. “Are you up for exploring today?” He asks as he walks into the bathroom, where you’re placing your toiletries along the vanity counter. “Oo! I’d love to explore. I have one weird request though.” You're still facing the mirror when Hugh comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, sitting a little higher due to his height. “What’s that baby?” He’s watching you through the mirror, as you organize your skin care. “I wanna go to Trinity Church to see Hamilton's grave.” You say nonchalantly. Hugh laughs and questions you. “I need to sing the ‘he’s buried in Trinity Church near you’ line from Hamilton.” Hugh continues laughing. “What!?” He barely gets the words out. It somewhat offends you.  “I thought you’d understand, being a theater nerd and all but I guess not.” You cross your arms and try to break through his hold to walk away. “Mhm. I’m sorry, come back. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. You’re just full of surprises.” You relax in his hold. 

“Does that mean you’ll take me?” You look at his eyes through the mirror. “Yea i’ll take you.” He smiles. You look at Hugh in the mirror, observing how the two of you look together. He looks really good holding you and not to toot your own horn, but Hugh and yourself made an attractive couple. He looked good on your arm and you looked good on his. “You're so pretty, baby.” He whispers. “Every time I look at you, I’m blown away that you’re hanging around with me.” His arms tighten around you. “Hmm. I think we look good together, don’t you?” You reach your neck up to look at him as best as you can given the angle. He studies your two bodies in the mirror before agreeing. “Yea we do.”

Walking around with Hugh felt freeing. You’ve been trying so hard to keep things private lately that every time you weren’t in the secure confines of your house with him, you felt panicked. It was something that crossed your mind before the two of you left the hotel but he assured you that it wasn’t very likely that someone would notice both of you. You were a little doubtful in his words, opting to dress in a way that protected you from the early fall breeze and from making it too obvious of who you were. Hugh had been right though, you both were able to walk around pretty freely, undisturbed. He brought you to trinity church first and reluctantly filmed a video of you dramatically singing the line from Hamilton. To you it was peak comedy and Hugh was being a big hater. He took you to a few of his favorite places, hidden gems. It was perfect. You wanted to hold his hand, bodies brushing against each other as you walked, but you couldn’t. The night ended by Hugh taking you to get traditional New York pizza. He ordered a large pepperoni and you both walked back to the hotel. The moment your room door was opened, you were pulling your heeled boots off. The walking destroyed your feet but you’d gone beyond your daily step goals- a win is a win. Sitting at the table with Hugh, you both grabbed a slice of pizza. He waited for you to take a bite first, looking for your reaction. When you took a bite, you let out a moan- you weren’t sure if it was because it tasted that good or because of how hungry you were. “That good?” Hugh asks in amusement. “Yes, I was starving.” He chuckles and takes his own big bite. The two of you down the entire pizza at an embarrassingly fast rate. “Did you have fun today?” He asks you. “Yea, I really did. Thank you Hugh.” 

When Hugh left, you scrolled through all of the pictures and videos you had taken today. You snuck a couple of Hugh and you might have stared at them a little too long. You watched the Trinity Church video so you could post it on TikTok. As you uploaded it into the app and were giving it one last watch before hitting post, a sound caught your attention. You grabbed your headphones and connected them to get a better listen. As you were singing, you could hear Hugh quietly laughing in the background. The sound brought a smile to your face, replaying it over and over just to hear it again. You hit the ‘post’ and called it a night. 

The next morning was an early one. You had to be at the photo shoot at five am to get ready, meaning you were out the door at four. Stacy met you down in the lobby and led you to the car she had waiting for you. “How was your first day in New York? You and Ashley have fun?” She asks as she buckles her seatbelt. “Oh, Ashley didn’t come, we aren’t friends anymore. My first day was good though, really fun.” You smile at the memories of the day prior, ignoring the small pain from hearing Ashley’s name. Stacy gives you a questioning look. You sigh before explaining, “She was being weird and it turns out she was flirting with Hugh the other day when they came to rehearsals. She didn’t even have the decency not to do it in the exact same room.” Her expression turns to an understanding one. “Well, good riddance. I knew after the first time that the girl was nothing but trouble. Good for you babe.” She types on her phone for a moment before turning her attention back to you- your staring out the window, taking in the somewhat empty streets that were full of people the night before.

“So, what did you do yesterday that was so fun?” You don’t look at her when you respond. “Hugh took me exploring, showed me the city.” She snorts. “Hugh, huh?” You look at her sheepishly. “Yea. He felt bad that I didn’t have someone to go with me so he offered.” You shrug. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “I told you.” 

“Told me what?” 

“That you wouldn’t be able to stay away from that man.” She shakes her head. You sometimes forgot just how well Stacy knows you after years of her by your side. The car comes to a stop outside of a short building, shorter than the other ones around it anyway. You sat in hair and makeup for a while, talking to the artists as they worked. You always liked making conversation with the people that helped you, it was always interesting hearing everyone's stories. The photo shoot wasn’t anything crazy. It was a well known photographer that had worked with major stars, her most recent model being Zendaya. It was a huge compliment that she wanted to work with you. It wasn’t like other shoots you had done before, this had been way more artsy and free. You were so used to doing things for brands or for your own music, where everything needed to be a certain way. It was nice to work on projects where you didn’t have to think but just be you. 

When the shoot was over, you sat in a small lobby with Stacy as you waited for the car to come pick you up. You opened tiktok to see what people were saying in the comments of your latest post. Most of them were freaking out over the laugh in the background, over analyzing it to find out who it was. There were a few comments that speculated that it might be Hugh and it made you laugh, shocked by the crazy detective skills your fans had. You kept scrolling when you saw a comment that caught your attention.

‘Y/N GET YOUR MAN UNDER CONTROL SDJFJSDF’ 

You clicked on the ‘view replies’ tab under it trying to figure out what they were talking about. Thankfully, other people were just as confused as you were with multiple ‘context?’ comments under it. 

‘look at hughs recent instagram post 😭’

In curiosity, you closed Tiktok and opened instagram. You went to the search bar, clicking on his username from your recent searched section. You click on the most recent picture making it enlarge and you let out an audible gasp. “Are you okay?” Stacy asks. You almost forgot where you were for a second. “Yea i’m fine…funny tiktok comment.” You tried to play it off, hoping she’d buy the excuse. It seems to work as she gives a small nod, looking back down to her phone. You look back down at your own device, in complete and utter shock. You knew he was built, seeing other pictures he had posted and endless edits of his greasy hawaiian rolls from Deadpool and Wolverine. 

This however seemed so much slutier. He was in, what you assumed was his home bathroom, taking shirtless pictures of himself. You could tell it had been recent because his beard and hair were the same length that it’s been for the past week. You felt frozen, not knowing what to do. He looked absolutely scrumptious. Pulling out your airpods from your purse, you put them on to listen to the attached audio. You had no fucking clue how you were supposed to look him in the eyes the next time you saw him. His voice was something special. It had the ability to make your knees weak at the sound. This was no different. It felt like he was teasing you subtly. You quickly screenshot the picture and swipe out of instagram, opening your message app. 

You: I leave you alone for less than 24 hours and you’re over here posting thirst traps for the internet… 

Hugh <3: I just wanted to thank my team. As the caption said…I am grateful. 

You: hmm you say it’s being grateful, I say it’s being a SLUT!! 

You: you look really fucking good though…

Hugh<3: 😂😂😂

Hugh<3: Thank you baby. Do I get to see you today or are you still busy? 

You: I have meetings the rest of the day :( 

Hugh<3: It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow? 

You: I have fallon tmrw night but i’ll be free at 8pm if you wanna meet up then? 

Hugh<3: That works for me. Text me when you’re done for the day, okay? Talk to you later baby

The car finally stops signaling that you were at the first meeting of the day. There were endless introductions, hand shaking, and smiling. It was a lot more tiring than it sounded. Stacy was doing most of the work, covering major details for whatever was being discussed- again you mainly sat and listened. There were a few times when you really had to pay attention as key points were being made but nothing would be final until your team and lawyer looked over whatever deals were being discussed. There was a short two hour break of freedom that Stacy and yourself used to grab some food. Then it was right back to work. You were somewhat grateful for Stacy scheduling all of the heavy work stuff on one day because it meant you didn’t have to do this again on the remaining days of your trip. Stacy liked to set it up that way, giving you more time to be free from work, you loved her for it. The two of you had dinner together and went your separate ways after. You got back to your hotel at ten and to say you were worn out was an understatement. Your head was hurting from all the talking and bright fluorescent lights of each office you sat in today. 

You: I’m finally freeeee!! 

After hitting send, you hopped in the shower. The best thing about staying in an expensive hotel was how great the water pressure was. The hot water felt like heaven against your sticky skin, the thick body glitter from the photoshoot finally slipping away. You let your mind wander back to the picture that had been in your mind all day. Running your hands down your body, teasing yourself while imagining that it was Hugh’s wide hands instead. You let your hands disappear in the place that ached the most, working as your mind played the fantasies that ate away at you. You could almost feel Hugh’s mouth whispering against your ear as the feeling of ecstasy washes over your body, the running water muffling the sounds of your pleasure. 

Hugh still hadn’t texted you back when you had gotten out of the shower. It was unusual for him to take so long to respond but given the time- and his age- he was probably asleep. The downside to dating older men was their need to be in bed so early. You giggled to yourself thinking about the thought of Hugh being knocked the fuck out in bed after yawning since the clock hit 7pm. Laying in bed, you whipped out your phone opening twitter. You tweeted a quick post, reminding your fans to watch Jimmy Fallon tomorrow night. You scrolled lazily for a while, feeling the sleep take over you but when you saw one post in particular, you felt wide awake. 

‘Hugh Jackman and ex-wife seen walking around New York together a year after separation.’ 

You had no right to feel the jealousy and anger that sat tight in your chest. His ex-wife was something you were completely aware of but it was a subject neither Hugh or yourself had talked about. You understood that she would always be around, after being married to her longer than you’d even been alive. You laugh in disbelief. It sounded so stupid when you put it like that. The age gap never bothered you until you put it in perspective. You couldn’t help who you liked though. The overthinking hit faster than you could stop it. You wondered why he didn’t tell you that he was seeing her today. His smile in the picture was a little too wide, he looked too happy. He wasn’t even yours to claim, yet you wanted her to know that he had you now, that he wanted you. The vile thoughts that danced around your head were making your temper rise. You set some alarms and tried to get some sleep. Most of the night was tossing and turning, thinking about Hugh’s ex-wife. 

Hugh<3: Good morning sweet girl. I’m sorry for not getting back to you last night. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to text me lol 

It was what you saw first when your alarm went off. It was sent a few hours ago since you gave yourself some time to sleep in, given the trouble you had getting to sleep last night. You ultimately decided that you wouldn’t be mad at him for it, you didn’t have a reason to be. If the two of you were official, things would be different, but you weren’t. You were going to try your best to swallow the jealousy and let it be. 

You: good morning baby! I figured that’s what happened lol

Hugh<3: Are you excited for Fallon tonight? 😄

You: yea…only a tinsy bit nervous 

Hugh<3: You’re gonna crush it babe, I know it. I still get to see you after yea? Miss you

You: I miss you too :(

You: do you wanna meet at the hotel after or…?

Hugh<3: I can pick you up and we can go to my place? 

You stared at the message contemplating it. Hugh’s house was already a fear of yours but his house at night seemed a lot more intimate. You felt the need to be that intimate with him though- it was fueled by the pictures from last night, you knew it was. If that hadn't happened, you’d be saying no, making up excuses not to. You needed the validation too much to think straight. 

You: yea we can do that :)

Once you get to the Tonight Show studio, you barely have time to put your things down before you're being guided around. Thankfully, you warmed up your voice before leaving your hotel room just in case you didn’t have time to do it here. The crew had you and your dancers do a quick run through of the song to make sure everything was working before you were sent to your dressing room to get ready. Kat, your stylist, and Amari, your makeup and hair artist, were already in the room ready to get to work. You took the time to catch up with both of them, the three of you falling into a familiar routine. Your nerves started to build up as it got closer to the filming time. About twenty minutes before you were called to stage, Jimmy came back to introduce himself. He was a really sweet guy, super bubbly and humble. It eased your mind a little bit but they shot right back up when your name was called. “Y/n L/n everybody!”. The studio audience erupted in cheers as you walked to Jimmy’s desk. “Welcome to the show, how are you doing tonight?” He asks. “I’m doing amazing, thank you so much for having me.” The cheers finally slow down. “So, I got told that this is your first late night show interview, is that right?” 

“Yes, it is!” 

“I’m honored to be the first.” 

“I’m glad it’s you who popped my late night talk show cherry, Jimmy.” You joke, using your song's title as a pun, which he does his famous laugh at. The interview was going really well, most of the questions being ones you’ve answered countless times before.

“There have been a few rumors going around after a tiktok you posted the other day and I have to ask.” You nod ready for whatever question he’s about to ask. “Is the laugh behind the camera Mr. Hugh Jackman?” Your smile falters for a second before you put it right back on. This was something you weren’t prepared for at all. You let out a laugh. “The fans can keep speculating. A girl never kisses and tells.” It probably wasn’t the best answer- you know it wasn’t the best answer- but it’s all you could come up with in that moment. You just hoped no one noticed the split second your calm facade slipped, that it felt longer than it had actually lasted. 

Hugh was already there when you were free to leave, having texted him in the spare moment you had while getting changed into your performance outfit. Once you were in the car, he didn’t hesitate to ask how it went. “It was good. He uh…he asked about you.” You don’t why you were concerned about how he would respond, but you were. “About me?” He glances at you quickly before focusing on the road again. “Uhh..yeah. I posted the Hamilton video on tiktok and you can hear you laughing in it. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal but people started to guess it was you. I’m sorry.” You slump down into the seat, waiting for his anger to come but it never does. “Don’t apologize baby. I want people to know I’m with you.” He never fails at knowing what to say, his words always flow out of his mouth effortlessly. “I kinda redirected the question though, not really giving a solid answer. I don’t know, it really threw me off.” He nods. “They like to do that, be sneaky.” 

It took a little longer than expected to get to his place, New York traffic moving at a snail's pace. When you do finally arrive, he’s pulling into an underground parking garage that sits under a skyscraper that you can’t see the top of. The elevator ride up was easily the longest one you’d ever been on, his penthouse being on the 56th floor. He opens the door and turns on the light switch that is conveniently placed in the entrance. “Welcome to my home. Mi casa es su casa.” He jokes and you let out a short snort at the stupid joke. “Would you like the official Hugh Jackman house tour?” Excitement was radiating off of him and you thought it was cute that he was this worked up about you being here, in his space. “I’d love one.” He offers his hand and you take it. Your once icy hand being warmed up instantly from his large, warm one. 

As he dragged you to the living room, you started to feel that uneasiness again, like you shouldn’t be here. It kept nagging at you in the back of your head but you refused to pick at it. This was making Hugh happy, you weren’t going to ruin that because of whatever issues you were hiding. After showing you the living room, he pulls you into a large kitchen. A vase full of bright pink flowers, balloons, and a cookie cake that reads ‘congrats’ sits on the counter. You let go of his hand and walk over to the island while he stays put. You run your fingertips over the soft petals of the flowers, peonies- your favorite. “Do you like them? I uh..wasn’t sure what your flower preference was, so I chose peonies because of your song.” 

The gesture makes you emotional. You’d never had a man go out of his way for you like this. He hadn’t known what flowers you liked but he remembered your song title to fill in the blank. A song where you had one line that says: ‘you got me roses when you know I like peonies’. A song from your debut album. “I love them. I love this.” You gesture to the display. You walk back over to where he stands and reach up to grab his face, bringing it down to give him a quick peck on his lips. “This means a lot to me, thank you Hugh.” The previous perturbation vanishing from your head, that cherished easiness you felt with Hugh slips back in. You were meant to be here. 

“Shall we finish the tour?” You ask, spirits high. “Of course my lady, right this way.” He leads you room to room, giving you a mini explanation for each one. It was an average home, well average for a millionaire. It was obvious that a single, older man lived here but not in a bad way, there just wasn’t a woman's touch on the place. “This is bathroom number two, the one I use most frequently.” Something about the room seemed familiar as you looked around. There were a few art pieces on the marbled wall, a large mirror across from them. You were looking at the suspiciously large mirror when it clicked. 

“OH MY GOD!! This is the thirst trap bathroom! I can’t believe I have the pleasure of being in such a sacred place.” You move around the space in a theatrical way, pretending you were in a place of true importance. 

“Oh god…shut up.” He groans in embarrassment. “Could you reenact the moment? It would really help me get the full feel of the room.” You’re still teasing him but that question came back to slap you right across the face. You see a smirk on Hugh's face and he’s reaching his hands down and starts lifting his shirt off- but not in the practical way but in the super sexy crossed arms way. “WAIT! I was just kidding.” You practically scream at him, not mentally prepared to see Hugh shirtless in person. He stops and shrugs, turning around to leave the room. Before you can stop yourself, the horny part of your brain is speaking. “Wait no, keep going.” He slowly turns around with that stupid sexy smile of his and the raised eyebrow thing he does. The atmosphere of the small room changed instantly. He’s pulling at his shirt again, painfully slow in your opinion. As he inches it up, you analyze each slither of skin that’s freed. There is a patch of hair below his belly button leading down into his pants. A strong v-line and a thick vein practically popping out of his skin, begging to be traced with your tongue. The shirt goes higher and higher, revealing more of his chest. Each ab pops out and it’s like a gift from God right in front of your eyes. He pulls the shirt over his head, biceps flexing slightly, and drops the shirt onto the floor. You're frozen in place, not believing that this is real. 

You never have been one to believe in karma but you must have been a saint in your past life to deserve this. You see his mouth move but don’t hear a word he says. All you see is the hairy chest you’d been thirsting over, moving closer until it’s right in front of you. He grabs your cheeks between one hand and faces your eyes up towards his own. “Are you okay y/n?” He has a worry behind his eyes. 

“You’re like really hot. It’s actually frustrating how hot you are.” His grip on your face loosens as you speak. “You asked to see, I was only fulfilling your wishes.” You felt dizzy. He hadn’t even touched you and the way your whole face sits in his one hand and the way his abs are begging to be licked, had you flustered. You were drunk on Hugh. “You're wandering again…maybe I should put my shirt back on.” He goes to reach for it but you reach out, lightly grabbing his arm to stop him. “Not yet.” It’s mumbled and quiet, aimed more towards yourself than it was to him. 

Hugh stands back up, his height towering over you. You couldn’t decide if he had always been so tall. Towering over you in a way that made your heart beat faster. Your mind was battling itself: the arousal wanting nothing more than for Hugh to do whatever he wanted with you while the more reasonable side knew that there were too many things that needed to be talked about before crossing this line. The line had been crossed many times before with the kisses, touches, hand holding- the night on the couch… Sex was different. You weren’t fond of casual sex, it was too intimate an act to categorize as such. Whatever was happening between Hugh and yourself was far from casual though and you trusted him not to hurt you.

“You’re kinda scaring me here, pretty girl. Are you okay?” You couldn’t tell him that seeing his chest had sent you into a horny dazed confusion. You looked up at him, into his worried eyes. He was always so concerned about your well being and he cared so much about everything going on in your life. God, you prayed that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.

“Kiss me please.” Your voice is shaky, unstable. “Are you sure baby?” His hands rest on your shoulders, eyes searching yours for any doubt. 

“Please Hugh. I need you to kiss me.” His once troubled eyes turned dark as he bent down, kissing you like he never had before. The kiss was messy, full of hunger. His hands trailed down your sides until they cupped under the base of your ass. He effortlessly picks you up to sit you on the bathroom counter, lips never breaking contact. You could feel his tongue prodding at the entrance of your mouth as it asked for permission to enter. Granting access, your lips open, a throaty moan draws out as you feel his tongue swipe against yours. He pulls back for a moment. “Can I take this off? Is that okay?” He asks, referring to your shirt. His usual thick australian accent was soft in his breathy voice. You nod shyly and he doesn’t hesitate to reach down. You put your arms up to aid him as he gently pulls the shirt up and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck baby…so fucking pretty.” His hands cup your bra covered breast, thumbs softly trailing over your stiff nipples causing you to drop your head back with a moan of pleasure. “We never finished the tour, sweet girl.” His hands are still fondling you and you lift your head back up to look at him. “What?” 

“There’s one more room I didn't get to show you.” His hands finally drop from your chest and he’s grabbing your hand, leading you towards whatever room it was that you hadn’t seen. He opens the door and the air surrounding you smells like Hugh. It was almost enough to make you pass out, head already light and fuzzy. 

You don’t have time to look around, Hugh immediately turning you to face him, attacking your mouth once again. His hands are reaching for the button of your jeans, pulling them down slowly once he’s got them open. Hugh’s lips escape yours and trail down your neck, your chest, the sides and your body, and finally your stomach as he slowly lowers himself to sit on his knees. He lifted each of your feet, helping you out of each pant leg. At each lift of your leg, he also pulls each sock off, kissing your calves as he does so. You're left in nothing but a black bra and thong. “Mhm. Can I touch you baby?” He asks looking up at you. You nod, the position he was in, all too arousing. He practically growls at your answer and starts leaving messy kisses on your thighs, his hands gripping the back of them. His lips trail up higher, ghosting over where you needed him the most. You could feel his breath through the thin cotton of your panties. Your own breath hitches as he licks a long teasing path between your two folds, the cotton dipping into them from the weight of his tongue. He looks up at you through his lashes, asking for permission. You mouth a small ‘please’ the only word that seems to be in your vocabulary at the moment. 

His thick fingers slip between the fabric and the skin on your hip on either side of your body, pulling the soaked thong down your legs. Before he continues, he’s standing up and guiding you to the bed. “Get up there and spread that pretty pussy for me baby. Wanna see it.” You waste no time doing what he asks, climbing up the unusually tall bed and laying on your back. You don’t open your legs right away, shyness creeping in. You were almost fully exposed to Hugh, the only thing still covered being your boobs, while he was almost fully covered, only his shirt being off. “Don’t go all shy on me now baby.” He says, guiding your legs open, pussy on full display. “Fuck..look at you sweet girl, all wet for me.” His thumbs pull back each fold, exposing the pink that was partially hidden. He leans town and licks from your entrance to your clit. “Mhmm fuck.” You moan out at the feeling. His tongue felt hot against your warm center, beard tickling your skin as he moved. The sound encourages him to continue. He dives down again, tongue lapping around your needy clit. The constant pressure causes your body to jerk voluntarily. Hugh brings both of his hands to hold you down at your legs, tongue still abusing the small bud. Loud moans escape your mouth as his tongue trails down to your entrance sliding in. “Oh fuck me.” You moan out. “Your pussy taste so fucking good.” He mutters against your skin. His right hand moves from its position on your hip, his middle finger sliding down to your opening. He slowly slides it in, the small stretch feels too good. He starts moving it, hitting the spongy bundle of nerves over and over again. “Fuck baby, i’m gonna cum.” You warn him. His head dips back down, tongue returning to your clit and one suck is all it takes for you to come around his finger. You let out a string of moans and curses, Hugh never letting up until your climax is over. He does one more lap around your pussy with his tongue, cleaning everything up before moving up the bed next to you. 

“Been wanting to do that forever baby. Knew you’d have a perfect little pussy.” His words make you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Even with your own orgasm washing the need out of your body, you were still turned on. The sight of your slick in Hugh’s beard and the very noticeable tent in Hugh’s jeans made it worse. You sit up and go to move. “Where are you going?” Hugh asks, sitting up on his forearms to look at you. You don't respond, instead you reach for the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to do that baby.” He assures you. “I want to.” It was the first coherent sentence you’ve been able to muster and it makes Hugh fall back into the bed. You pull his jeans and boxers off in one go, too impatient to wait. His cock springs free, red and angry. It was long, thin, and veiny- exactly as you imagined it being. It made your mouth water. He had a thick patch of pubic hair and it turned you on even more, you were such a whore for hairy men. 

You sat yourself between each of his thighs, running your hands up and down them. He’s watching you as you take your right hand, wrapping it around the base of him. He sucks in a breath. You're looking him in the eyes as you lean your head down, letting your tongue swirl in slow circles around his tip. “Fuck…” You take the tip slowly into your mouth, sucking on it while your tongue still circles. Your left hand replaces the right on his dick, right hand moving down to cup his balls. “Shit..” He hisses out. “Haven’t done this in a while baby, not gonna last long at all.” He confesses but men coming fast had always been something that excited you, so you got to work. Your head dipped lower, taking more of him in your mouth while hollowing your cheeks, creating a dangerous suction on him. Your pace was steady as he moaned. “Yea baby, just like that…mmm fuck.” He was a talker and you loved it. You took him out of your mouth, moving down to his balls instead. You sucked on them as your hands worked his shaft. He was breathing rapidly. “I’m gonna cum baby….ohh fuck baby don’t stop.” You immediately moved your mouth back to his tip, sucking every drop of cum from him, not letting any go to waste. You can feel his thighs clenching next to yours. When you're confident that he was done spewing, you swallow it down happily and smile up at him. 

“You’re a dream, you know that? So fucking perfect for me.” He sighs in content as you crawl up to lay on his chest. “You really believe that?” You ask. “I really believe it, y/n. Haven’t felt this way in a long time..” You didn’t want to ask him what that meant, he would tell you eventually. “You wanna stay here tonight?” You look around, seeing the time on the digital alarm clock he had on a bedside table. It read 11:30pm. “Yea, if that’s okay.” You didn’t want to inconvenience him, even if he’s the one who asked. “More than okay sweet girl.” 

The two of you took a quick shower together, the main goal was to get clean so you could hit the hay. Hugh strayed from that a little bit at the sight of your boobs, which he hadn’t seen fully during the fun you had earlier. He gave them small kisses, worshiping them as you washed your hair. He gave you a shirt to sleep in and you opted to go commando, not wanting to put your dirty underwear back on- Hugh didn’t complain about this. His own pajamas being his boxers and nothing else. The two of you laid in Hugh’s bed, you cuddled on his side running your fingers through the hair on his chest. A silence fell over the room, sleep creeping its way in.

thank you for reading!

part six

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

Please let me know if I missed you or if the tag doesn't work! I fixed a few for this one but please let me know if it's still not working.

If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment on this post ot the masterlist for the series. thank you <3

[soobnny]

dating him | seo changbin

❝ everyone pay attention…. i love my girlfriend ❞

chan | lee know | CHANGBIN | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

okay hear me out

hear me out …..

seo changbin biggest kisser 🙁🙁🙁

i can just imagine him kissing u all the time

every chance he gets

forehead, chin, neck, cheeks, forehead, lips, WHEREVER.

nowhere is safe

he just thinks u are so beautiful

also just a hunch but he probably is a big thigh kisser i feel like he loves thighs !!!!!

have fun thinking about that

changbin is giving me best friends to lovers type beat

either that or strangers to lovers with a miscommunication twist

picture him accidentally getting ur food order cos u got the exact same thing

and the waiter’s like .. “are u (name)?”

he’s confused at first bc huh no i’m changbin

and then u come over

AND NOW HE IS SO EMBARRASSED

this is embarrassing

this had to happen to him in front of a pretty girl … you … why

that’s the beginning of ur love story

wait i just suddenly thought of something

OK SO here’s an alternative meet cute

you

well…

you can’t park for the life of u

and he’s next in line to u

so he helps u 😭😭😭

like gets out of his car and parks it for u

u offer coffee as thank you

who was he to say no

ANYWAYS fast forward to the present

i feel like ur dates are either dinner cruises or dollar dates

like either extremely expensive

or cute, fun, and cheap

it depends on his mood or the event

he loves spoiling u tho

mention one thing u want and he probably already bought it for u

he just knows u that well

either that or he’s rushing to buy it immediately

OKAY NOW

here are some of the things he does for u

changbin special #1 —> opens all ur jars for u

having a hard time opening ur bottle of water? no worries

changbin to the rescue

want a pickle out of that jar? he’s already grabbing it and opening it for u

u will never touch a jar in ur life anymore

changbin special #2 —> shares his food w u

i feel like food can be one of his love languages

he just wants to be sure u’re eating well and good when you’re with him

PLUS i just watched their interview where the members say he doesn’t share

but with you he does ok !!!!! with u he does

he’d share anything with u 🥹🥹🥹🥹

changbin special #3 —> “saw this and thought of u” text messages

and it’s the cutest things ever

or the most random things

no in between

it’s a coin on the floor or a little squirrel

speaking of texts

he’s the type to spam u with cute messages and emojis

i miss you baby 🥰🥰🥰💗💓💝💘💖💕💕🩷❤️❤️💞💓💞💗💕💘💝💝💖😍😘😘😘🥰😍🥰🥵

changbin special #4 —> piggyback rides

u will never ever have to worry about being tired bc changbin is there to the rescue

he loves it too bc he gets to have u close and he can also hold ur thighs

changbin thigh obsession agenda

he loves running with u behind him

honestly i can def see him as playful at times

but not too fast

he couldn’t risk making u fall

one time it happened and he doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself after seeing the TINIEST scar on ur knee

cleans it up for you and everything

moving on

now here are some of his favorite things to do WITH you

he loves when u guys r just chilling and he has u on his lap

if he could, he would keep u there 24/7

would be the type to pull u on his lap during movie night with the boys

EVEN THO THE COUCH ISN’T EVEN FULL

cue playful vomit noises by the boys

he couldn’t care less

at the end of the day, it’s HIM who has YOU on his LAP

so who’s rly winning

he also loves doing chores to ur favorite songs

mini dance breaks in between

he’d use the broom as his mic

now you have a personal concert from the boy

loves doing girly pop songs

yes he’s singing that boy is mine by ariana grande

yes he’s also doing the tiktok choreography

and YES HE’S ABSOLUTELY EATING IT UP

yes btw, he would film tiktoks with u

you’d send him a like and he’s just down every single time

you’d even catch him trying to memorize the choreo on his free time

u know that yeah glo tiktok .. yup he’s rapping

just ANYTHING with u

and ofc how could i ever leave out gym dates

the first time u accepted to go to the gym with him, he was convinced he could die right there

he would die a happy man

he’s happy u’re sharing his passion w him

(even more if u aren’t rly a gym person before him so he appreciates it even more)

HEART EYES when he sees u in ur gym fit

buys u everything

all the outfits and whatever u need

becomes protective at the gym

but he does everything for u

cleans the equipment before u use it

spots for u and things like that

anything for u

princess treatment fr

side eye at the guys looking at u

u would suddenly feel a figure behind u

don’t worry, it’s just changbin trying to show everyone that he’s the lucky guy that got u

he’s quite ltrly ur watermark

he also loves that cliche push up thing where u’re underneath him and he kisses u everytime he goes down

oh did i tell u he has one of those ‘i ❤️ my gf” shirts

and he LOVES wearing them in public

he’s so cheeky with it

hmmmmm what else

OH he rly enjoys making silly faces at each other from across the room

he always makes u laugh

and smthn i see happening is him trying to do legos with u but he rage quits

changbin also gives me healthy communicator

but like

u have to give him a bit of space first

he can get angry so the moment he does, he asks u for a moment

cos i feel that he’s easy to upset

when he’s sure he won’t take it out on u

and when he’s sure he’s a bit more level headed

he’ll ask if u two can finally talk abt it

good job changbin

anyways

at the end of the day

the boys are sick of u two

they know everything about u

PLUS he always has a stupid smile on his face whenever he talks about u

I LOVE LOVE !!!!!

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[queenie-ofthe-void]

“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.

Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 

Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.

Long story short, he’s not a fan.

But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 

“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”

And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.

Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 

“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.

The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 

Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.

“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–

All of my love, all of my love

all of my love to you, oh

“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”

Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 

“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.

The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again

One voice is clear above the din

“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.

"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.

“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.

All of my love, all of my love, yes

All of my love to you

Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”

He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  

“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 

“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 

All of my love, all of my love, to you now

“A love song just for you, from both of us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

[ebsmind]

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 ❀ tom blyth x fem!singer reader

summary : readers reputation isn’t all that good but who cares since she’s met the love of her life

warning(s) : reader gets slut shamed :( but that’s it

a/n : i’m going to be real honest i wanted to use hailee steinfeld as the fc BUT i just had to do olivia bc she’s so me and i listened to delicate by taylor swift about 10 times while i made this 🙃

i also had a really hard time coming up with why the readers reputation is 👎🏼 so i kinda just went with the whole olivia and sabrina thing but it’s reversed!! 😼 (so instead of olivia getting broken up with it’s sabrina who got broken up with)

ynuser happiness 🙃

view all comments

user1 oh so ur happy bc ur a home wrecker?

user2 yikes…

user3 Y/N PLS I CANNOT KEEP DEFENDING YOU GIRL

user4 y’all don’t even know the full story pls

user5 she’s such a slut

*comments have been disabled

ynuserupdates the tea is popping hot between these three! y/n rodrigo has now claimed that she has never had any romantic relationship with joshua basset…will sabrina carpenter clear the air between the situation??

view all comments

user1 she SPOKE on the situation??

↳ user2 yeah she went on a podcast

user3 oh shit

user4 this is why yall shouldn’t believe everything on the internet 😭

user5 poor y/n and sabrina :(

↳ user6 all over a guy too :(

user7 guys will always be the problem

ynuser i’m soooo excited to announce that i wrote a song called Can’t Catch Me Now for the new Hunger Games : The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie!!! 🕊️🐍🧡

view all comments

rachelzegler THATS MY GIRL!!!

user1 sis really said lemme just make the greatest comeback of all time

user2 oh she’s slaying ur honor

hunterschafer the best person who could’ve written a song for this movie

tomblyth so proud of you

user3 TOMS COMMENT OMG???

user4 i just KNOW this song is gonna be so good

user5 girl was probably finishing up writing this song when the whole sabrina and josh thing was going on 😭😭

thehungergames 🧡🧡🧡

ynuser life recently 🖤

view all comments

user1 Y/N WHOS THE BOY

rachelzegler SOFT LAUNCH I REPEAT SOFT LAUNCH

tomblyth cutie

❤️ by creator

↳ user2 SHUT UP OMG

user3 TOM AND Y/N????

user4 SOFT LAUNCH MY ASSSSS RACHEL

user5 pls wasn’t she just with that josh guy?

↳ user6 girl she went on a podcast and said it was a fake rumor

user7 oh this next album is gonna HIT

❤️ by creator

tomblyth premier day

tagged : @/ynuser , @/rachelzegler , @/hunterschafer , @/thehungergames

view all comments

ynuser hey that’s me!!!

ynuser took the last pic on tom’s phone

❤️ by creator

rachelzegler oh we ate that

user1 y’all SLAYEDDDD

user2 stream can’t catch me now yall ✌️

❤️ by creator

user3 y/n taking a .5 on tom’s phone is so cute

↳ user4 no literally they are my PARENTSSSS

user5 the girls are slaying ur honor

hunterschafer love you!!

tomblyth added to their story!

ynuser delicate mv out now!!

tagged : @/tomblyth

tomblyth i’m in love with you

↳ ynuser i love you more

user1 OH MY GODODJNSND

user2 AN ALBUM IS COMING

user3 BRO TOM BEING IN THE MUSIC VIDEO I CANT???

user4 NOW THIS WAS A HARD LAUNCH

rachelzegler omg the cats finally out of the bag I CAN TALK ABOUT THEM NOW

↳ ynuser PLSSSS sis was eager and almost spilled the beans like a week ago 😭

↳ rachelzegler i just LOVE YALL SO MUCH

hunterschafer such a perfect song for a perfect couple 🖤

user5 i cannot do this today

user6 joshua basset is def crying in the corner

↳ user7 NAH FR HE FUMBLED HER AND SABRINA

conangray ate

user8 y/n be so fr we been knew since the announcement of can’t catch me now

❤️ by creator

[koimethehorizon]

Fionna and Cake theory: Simon the Artist

Nothing like a good old creative panic attack.

Fionna and Cake good. Haven’t been excited about a show like this in a long time, though it being a part of Adventure Time does help quite a bit. I was holding on to some cautious optimism for the show when it was announced as yet another big IP series covering the multiverse (still waiting to groan at THAT scene where Prismo has to explain to us about there being infinite universes), but as usual, Adventure Time’s crew continues to surprise me with its creativity, humor, and thematic resonance.

The most striking part about Fionna and Cake so far is just how deliberately the show wants us to differentiate it from the original Adventure Time.

We’re getting shots where Simon pops an artery from his arm, a theme song that explicitly talks about suicidal ideation, discussions of rent and financial problems, and curses no longer disguised with AT’s usual dialogue. Adventure Time has always had violence, thematic density, and juvenile rating pushers, but they were always reserved at small points. Meanwhile, these are factors that are just casually shown and discussed in Fionna and Cake every 3 minutes or so. This is not an all-ages miniseries, it’s for young adults. (hint: this will be relevant later)

Let’s get right into it. This is much less a speculative lore theory and more on what thematic direction the story may be going.

Before we do, let’s get this out of the way first. This theory assumes that the current Fionna and Cake world is all a part of Simon’s head and not merely a separate multiverse, which… I’m certain is fact for the following reasons.

The immediately obvious piece is that Fionna and Cake was always the Ice King’s fanfiction. Now if you’re versed in AT’s continuity you’re probably going to be asking about the red light in Fionna and Cake + Fionna and… I’ve no answer for it unfortunately. It’ll probably be relevant later in the series and possibly age this post like milk but for now, we’re not here to focus on the how, but the why.

Second is that the intro and the ending of Ep 2 literally show Fionna’s world spilling right out of Simon’s head like an animated world out of a frozen brain. If that isn’t clear enough-

Didn't realize this until writing, but these glasses are just plastic made to look like Betty's

There’s no other explanation for this other than that this world is artificial or influenced by Simon in some sense. Fionna even specifies that the statue went under renovation 12 years ago, but nobody seems to know who it is. Considering how Finn looks in the episode, it’s likely that it’s been that long since Betty’s sacrifice in the finale.

With that out of the way, here it goes.

The reason Fionna and Cake exist in the first place is because the creators found Natasha Allegri’s genderswap designs charming and wanted an in-universe reason to use them the Ice King wanted to create trashy, wish fulfillment through art. It was a phase.

Definitely changed that image for publishing.

Simon can argue if they’re good or bad but it’s undeniably his art. It’s not just a portfolio he left behind in a closet, it’s an experience that was shared with a larger audience.

And even if wasn’t liked at first, the citizens of Ooo seemed to have come around to it. And some of them love it!

Whether Simon likes it or not, he has a fan base that is so endeared to the story he made all those years ago that they demand he makes more. Why let a good story, loved by many, go to rest when you still have some life and creativity left in you?

Can't move on in more ways than one.

Except, the problem is that Simon isn’t Ice King anymore. He’s aged out of it.

His real passion is history, he's an adult who who finds passion in the mundane and antiques from the past. And frankly, there isn’t much room for wish-fulfillment and fantasy anymore. Simon has responsibilities. He has a job and a daughter in a world that is moving faster than he can process.

And where Ice King wrote about looking for love, Simon has already had it.

And lost it. His mind isn’t focused on the rosiness of finding new love, it’s grieving the one he already thought was the one.

Wasn't he supposed to be good with kids?

Despite his new life experiences, all his peers seem to want from him is to make more of what they’re familiar with.

A story made from wants and wishes that he doesn’t even have anymore.

A story that was literally made by someone else at a different time. It’s a fiction he cannot connect to anymore, art that he’s embarrassed by. Yet also jealous of. Because at one point, the body Simon used to be in understood what exactly was missing from his life and could express that easily.

Seeing it again is like experiencing a retrospection of a cringey loser you don’t want to imagine having ever been. It’s not you anymore, and you don’t want to be reminded of that.

Because despite him having a new creative passion, no one seems to care about that. All they want is Fionna and Cake. And what is more lonely than other people misunderstanding what you’re trying to express?

If I failed to make it clear somehow, my theory is that: Simon’s relationship with Fionna and Cake is a metaphor for creators growing out of their art. And this new Fionna and Cake world is still comfort art born out of Simon’s current desires and perceptions.

The snippet subtitles this “child holding a phone”. I guess I’m wrong. Essay over.

Episode 1 and 2 both have direct parallels with each other. They’re both about a protagonist who are feeling displaced from their world, living a phase of losing a significant other, leaving a thankless job, wearing a mask of stability in front of the people they care for, seeking a guru at the heart of the forest, and concluding that they no longer belong in their current world.

But more importantly, Fionna and Cake (the characters, the world, and the show) are no longer for an all-ages crowd. Fionna and Cake now feature young adults, curses, gore, alcohol, partial nudity, financial issues, morning routines, mid-life crisis, and overt suicidal ideation. These are the feelings that Simon relates to and possibly desires to express through art. Thus, his story and our new miniseries have warped that way.

Am I overthinking this? No. How dare you assume that.

Is equating the unconscious writings of his dementia-ridden self to Simon as his younger self seem a bit odd? ….Kinda. Again, it’s not the how but the why that matters in this case. I'm NOT crazy, I have proof that there is some acknowledgment of this directly in the show.

Rewatch the bar scene and apply this reading of the episode to what Simon says there:

“Your old stuff, Fionna and Cake, honest to glob my man, is an inspiration to me.”

“My old stuff, I don’t really want to talk about my old stuff…”

“Why not? You should be proud! You wrote an entire extended universe in a fugue state if you think about it.”

"Simon cringes"

If you have ever shared art with a group of people in the past, you’ve had this conversation.

Not likely, not possibly, no perhapses. You HAVE.

And Fionna and Cake being an epilogue to a massive award-winning, near-decade-spanning, cultural sensation 5 years after it ended, might result in its creators feeling very retrospective about what audiences want from them now.

And how difficult it’s going to be to tell new experiences and tones from what’s come before. Also, come on. “Extended Universe?” That doesn’t sound like Fionna and Cake. That sounds a lot like something else.

Again, seems bad with this kid.

One of the more profound shots in the main trailer for the show features the inconspicuously Finn-like kid crouching at her Fionna and Cake book in Simon’s trash. I believe this character is going to have a major role in two ways. Convincing Simon to be proud of what he’s accomplished and/or embracing that Simon wants to move away from his original work in order to create something new, or perhaps more likely, reinvent Fionna and Cake into what Simon relates to now.

We’ll just have to see what Simon thinks of his new Fionna next week.

PS. Talking as a fan now, WHAT IS UP WITH THE 1000+ TREEHOUSE IN THE INTRO?!!! ARE WE REVISITING THIS TIMELINE AGAIN?

SOMEONE TELL ME NOW!!!

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 3/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: two years have passed, are you both still up for it? word count. 2.3k cw. marriage pact au a/n. the intro of the story turns out to be quite long... but, here it goes! I'm happy I have a lot of spare time now. So, I think the update for this story will be pretty quick (for now)! Masterlist

A few days later, you tell your predicament to your best friend from college, Tami. She lives in a different city now, so you send her a few messages and call her. She laughs and gives you a piece of her mind regarding the idea.

“That’s actually kinda crazy… Like, wow. I know you’re creative and all, but I didn’t expect you to do something like this. This is another level,” she continues to laugh loudly. You roll your eyes at this, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

“Oh no, wait. I can actually see you doing this type of thing,” she adds, still chuckling.

“Hey, please help a friend here. Does it really sound that bad?!” you plead, hoping for some serious advice.

“Do you want me to be honest?” she asks, her tone suddenly serious.

“Of course!”

“In all my life knowing you and hearing your love life stories, I never see you wanting to pursue someone. Like, be committed, y’know?”

You pause to think for a second. That’s true. She’s right.

“Errr, yeah, I think. But, I would want to be committed if that person makes me want to! It’s just I never found the one that makes me want to. You get what I mean?” you explain, feeling a bit defensive but also reflective.

“But, how would you know? Like, what’s your standard? What kind of person makes you want to do that?” Tami presses, her curiosity genuine.

You’re stunned. Fuck. You don’t really know. Isn’t it just like a gut feeling or something? Or someone who makes you feel butterflies in your stomach? Or is it someone who makes you feel secure? You don’t really know. Tami senses your hesitancy and sighs.

“See. You don’t know it yourself,” she says, her voice softening.

“I’m no psychologist or something, but I know you. I know you have it in yourself to love someone deeply. But, you also have some standards that you set for yourself. It’s not weird at all,” she reassures you.

“It’s tricky. But, I think maybe that’s what makes you struggle a bit to start intimacy with someone.”

You get every word she says and, damn, she really knows you so well. Her insights are like a mirror reflecting your innermost thoughts.

“Not everyone will have the same relationship journey, y’know? Not everyone will feel or experience romantic love. But, in no way am I trying to tell you that you will not experience that,” she continues, her tone both comforting and encouraging.

You understand what she means. You sometimes expect yourself to experience the kind of love that movies, songs, and pop culture depict. Maybe some people do experience that, but not everyone’s reality is the same.

“I do think that the marriage stuff is beneficial though for you. But, how about your need for intimacy? Will you get it from him, from Kiyoomi?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

“I don’t know. But, I care about him,” you reply honestly.

“That’s good.” Then, she goes silent. Seems like she’s thinking. You’re thinking, too. What kind of arrangement will this marriage be? Will this be the kind of open marriage, with both of you can be with anyone? That’s something that you’ll need to further discuss with Kiyoomi. Some rules and boundaries need to be set. Tami seems to have the same thoughts as you as she speaks up about it a moment later.

“On the other hand, though. Sakusa is hot as fuck,” she says, breaking the serious tone with a playful remark.

You laugh loudly, the sudden shift catching you off guard.

“What, you don’t think so? I honestly am surprised with you. You always send me TikTok thirst traps of some random men. I know you know fine men when you see one. And, urgh, your friend is so fine too, girl! Are you blind or something?!”

“Of course, I find him handsome, too! That’s why I’m telling you that I don’t want to trap him with me when he can be with any majestic woman he likes! Plus, it’s weird to think your friend is hot all the time,” you roll your eyes, feeling a bit defensive again.

“I’ll say this sincerely. You and him look good together. That’s it,” she states firmly.

You try to picture you and Kiyoomi together, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and warmth.

“If this plan of you and him happens, he’ll be your husband!” she exclaims, emphasizing the word "husband" with a teasing tone.

You try to picture you and Kiyoomi doing some domestic stuff together and find yourself blushing. What?!

“S—shut up!!” you stutter, feeling flustered.

Tami laughs hearing you stutter, enjoying the reaction she’s elicited.

“Don’t even think about not consummating your marriage! I know you’re not that stupid!” she adds, her voice dripping with playful mischief.

You shush her again, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed by the thought. You really don’t want to think of Kiyoomi that way. It feels wrong.

You end your call with your best friend, concluding that you better not rely fully on the pact you made with Kiyoomi. You should still live your day like usual and try to find your potential love interest as usual. 

And you did. You go about your days as usual, juggling work, meeting with friends, and attending your monthly meet-ups with Komori and Kiyoomi. Nothing is brought up about the pact with Kiyoomi. Even though it occasionally comes to mind unexpectedly. Life is hectic as always, but you still find time to go on a few dates with new people, either introduced by friends, colleagues from work, or even your parents. Without realizing it, two years have passed.

This New Year's, you spend it at your family home, reconnecting with your parents and some of your extended family. You also reunite with some friends, including Tami, who decides to visit your city. After a few days, you return to your apartment on Friday night, deciding to rest before returning to work on Monday.

That is until you receive a message from Komori in your group chat with him and Sakusa. He invites you and Sakusa to a party at his house on Saturday night. After pondering for a bit, you decide it will be a great way to end your holiday. You miss them, and a party sounds fun. You reply to the chat, confirming you'll come. Minutes later, you see that Sakusa has also replied that he will be there. Komori's parties often include volleyball pro athletes, tall men with their muscular bodies, which is always a plus. You laugh to yourself, mentally slapping yourself for the thought.

Suddenly, upon seeing Sakusa's message in the group chat, you remember something very important that you had forgotten. Shit, shit! You check your calendar. Has it really been two years? Damn, this is the year. You sit in stunned silence for a few minutes. Does Sakusa even remember? Has he gotten himself a girlfriend yet? You try to recall your meet-ups with him and Komori. You remember Komori teasing him about some girls a few times, but there were no clear signs that he was in a relationship. Shit. It would be weird to bring it up. You might look desperate or something. And why did you suddenly remember this now?! Things were fine when you didn’t.

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. You’re a grown woman, dammit! You decide not to bring it up unless Sakusa does. You want to see how serious he is about this. If he’s serious, he’ll remember, right? Are you being immature right now? Hopefully not! Why do you feel this way though? It’s just Kiyoomi. You huff, frustrated with yourself. Whatever. You’ll just see how the night goes tomorrow.

The night of the party finally arrives. You dress casually for the occasion, opting for light blue jeans and a white, fluffy sweater in case the night gets colder. After doing your makeup and hair, you quickly order an online taxi and head to Komori’s house.

You arrive ten minutes after the designated time for the party, and some people are already there. You see some of Komori’s friends from the EJP Raijin team and Sakusa’s MSBY team. Before you can get anywhere, Komori greets you cheerfully. Beside him is Mia, Komori’s wife, who offers you a warm smile and invites you to the snacks corner.

You make light conversation with Mia, asking about the food she made and complimenting her on how delicious it tastes. You also meet some other wives and girlfriends of the athletes. After a few minutes, you find yourself in a fun conversation with a woman you just met, who turns out to be Miya Atsumu’s girlfriend. You recall Atsumu as Sakusa’s teammate in MSBY. Discovering that you both work in tech startups, you bond over shared work ethics and struggles. After a while, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling a bit lightheaded from the beer you consumed. You’re not great with alcohol but didn't realize how much you were drinking while chatting.

When you return to the main room, you hear Komori exclaim, "There you are!" with Sakusa standing beside him. You recall how Sakusa used to be extremely germaphobic, rarely taking his mask off in any place. You respect him but often show him some videos and journals about how human’s immune systems work. You’re sure some people show those kinds of things to him, too. As a result, now, he has managed to tone down his fear a bit and only wears a mask strictly in public places or outside buildings. Sakusa wears a plain black shirt tucked into black trousers. This is one of those moments that makes you painfully aware of how attractive he is, and he even seems so effortless about it.

You quickly dismiss your thoughts and greet them, “Hey!" Then you turn your head to Sakusa and ask, "When did you arrive?”

“Not too long ago,” he replies.

Komori chimes in, “I saw you earlier talking with ‘Tsumu’s girlfriend!”

You nod happily.

Komori asks, “Anyway, how was your New Year holiday?”

You start chatting about your holiday until someone exclaims, “Hey, hey, hey!” Sakusa rolls his eyes. It’s Bokuto Kōtarō, his teammate. He pats Sakusa’s shoulder a few times, which doesn’t faze him, looking fed up with Bokuto's antics. Bokuto then greets Komori and you, recalling you as Sakusa’s bestie.

As it nears midnight, you decide to head home. You excuse yourself from the people you’ve been talking with and tell Komori you're leaving. You look for Sakusa but can’t find him. Just as you're about to order an online taxi, a hand pats your shoulder. It’s Sakusa.

“Oh, hey! I was looking for you!” you say, startled.

“Let me drive you home,” he offers. “I brought my car, and it’s already late.”

You ponder for a bit but then accept his offer. 

Once you’re settled in the seat, he offers to connect your phone to his car's Bluetooth to play some music. You agree enthusiastically, always excited to recommend songs to him. He knows you're always excited too, and he often enjoys your recommendations, playing them frequently himself.

The drive is quiet but relaxing. Suddenly, he speaks up, “Do you remember our pact?”

You cough, surprised. You’re always like this, getting distracted and forgetting important things. Weren’t you stressed about this yesterday? You scold yourself mentally. Then, you nod and respond, “Yeah. I actually just remembered about it yesterday. I’m surprised you remember, Omi.” You laugh.

“Did you forget that I put it in the calendar?” he asks, his tone neutral.

You try to recall the memory of the day you made the pact with Sakusa. Ah! He did set a reminder for the pact on New Year’s Day. You giggle, feeling a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

“How— I mean, like, are you with anyone right now?” you ask tentatively, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

“No. Are you?” he replies, his gaze steady and calm.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Are you still up for it? The pact we made?” he asks, his voice steady but with a touch of curiosity.

You’re silent for a moment, pondering. You realize, if anything, you’re more ready than the last time you talked about this with him. The last two years have made it clear how tiring it is to build a relationship with someone. Work remains the same, and you're still juggling side jobs to make ends meet and send some money to your parents. The prodding from your parents has become more apparent too, suggesting dates with the sons of their acquaintances. You've tried to have a date with some of them. But nothing has gone beyond.

So you answer him, “I think I’m up for it. You?”

“Me too,” he says, giving you a quick glance that holds a mix of seriousness and reassurance.

You realize you’ve arrived at your apartment. “I think we need to talk about a lot of stuff regarding this. Do you want to talk about it? Like, tomorrow... maybe?” you suggest, trying to sound composed despite the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind.

“I agree. I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” he replies, his voice steady.

“Okay. Is 9 am okay with you? Or do you have practice?” you ask, wanting to make sure he’s not inconvenienced.

“No, I don’t and 9 am is okay,” he confirms.

With that, you get out of his car. You walk inside your apartment building, realizing that Sakusa is still on the driveway, looking at you. So, you smile and wave at him. As you fold your arms and tap your foot in the elevator, you can’t help but feel a bit antsy. You're really doing this. The anticipation and uncertainty swirl inside you, but there's also a sense of… excitement? You’re about to take a significant step, and the reality of it starts to sink in.

[whowantslovergirl]

hey! can i req a spencer reid dating someone that’s like ,,, taylor swift level of famous? and like maybe the team teases him whenever a romantic song that’s clearly ab him plays?

An: YESYESYES ima use Taylor swift songs and I don’t really listen to her so bare with me guys 😍 all for you my lover 🤍 and please bare with me I’m going to write the teams dynamic as best as possible and I took notes on how to write Spencer the way matthew gray gubler is my husband he just doesn’t know it yet 💋

Style

Dr.Spencer Reid x famous af! reader ( reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: some cursing, fluff af, and i think that’s it hope you enjoy my lovers 💖 criminal minds masterlist

Summary: The team finding out about Spencer’s kinda famous girlfriend

posted: April 6,2023

When Spencer woke up this morning he knew that he was going to have a great day. The team had no cases. He talked to you last night to compliment your new song. And he found out that you’re coming over later tonight.

The day couldn’t be better.

Until he actually went to work.

_____

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

He heard your song blasting through the BAU. He saw Penelope singing and dancing.

He never been more confused in his life.

“Hey pretty boy!” Derek yelled since he can’t hear himself think.

“Hey Morgan! What’s going on?!”

“Garcia and her fascination with Y/N L/N!” The music paused.

“I just want it to be known that Y/N L/N has blessed your ears with her angelic voice this morning.” She saw Spencer. “Hey Reid!”

“Hey Garcia.” She continued playing the song.

“What’s going on? It’s way to early for this.” Emily said walking in with her coffee.

“Babygirl’s favorite singer released her new single.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh! Replay it! I want to hear it!” And she did what she was told.

_____

Long story short everyone heard and loved his girlfriend’s new song.

“Hey guys, is it just me or the lyrics sound like Spencer?” JJ said out of nowhere.

Everyone looked at him and agreed.

“Yeah I can see that.”

“You make a good point JJ.”

“It does make sense.” Derek said while inspecting him.

“What! No it doesn’t!”

It does.

“Oh come on Spencer! You got that long hair slicked back white t shirt. That is so you!”

“Just because I have long hair does not mean she is talking about me Penelope.”

‘Besides half of the song isn’t even true.’ He mumbled hoping they didn’t hear them.

But they did.

“What did you just say pretty boy.”

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

Penelope gasped. “You never curse unless your hiding something or you’re frustrated! And I’m pretty sure you are not frustrated right now Spencer.”

He didn’t know what to say.

“How would you know half the song isn’t true? You don’t even listen to modern music.” Emily said with a questioning tone.

“Unless you know the song is about you!” Penelope exclaimed.

“Come on! I would not be able to get with Y/N L/N! We are in different calibers. I am a profiler and she is a pop-star with a huge- no, massive fan base. It just would never work.” Everyone looked at him surprised.

“Are you dating Y/N L/N?” Hotch walked in.

“No!”

“You ramble when you’re nervous a lot.” Emily said.

“And he’s getting sweaty.” Derek said with a questioning tone as well.

“Guys I am not dating N/N!”

Shit.

Penelope gasped once again. “You said her nickname!”

He once again was speechless.

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

You were going to be so mad at him.

_____

“That’s hilarious!” You said laughing over the phone.

“What! No it’s not N/N.” You rolled your eyes. “So how did your team of profilers find out?”

He told her everything. And she laughed even more.

“Y/N stop laughing!” He said while his face was heating up.

_____

It was the next day and Spencer found out that you can’t come until next week. So of course his mood is a little down.

_____

“Why the long face pretty boy.” Derek continues. “Your N/N isn’t coming?” Spencer rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t know because I’m not dating her.”

“Keep telling yourself that Spence.” JJ said and Emily laughed.

“Eek! Y/N is coming out with a new album!” Penelope exclaimed while walking in. “My whole life is complete. I have no more reason of living after such extraordinary news.” Everyone just laughed at her.

“ We should go out together. I need to express my gratitude for this album.”

Everyone just agreed, even Spencer.

_____

He really missed you but at least he has his friends.

He wasn’t ready for tomorrow.

_____

Everyone came in work at the same time and saw someone at Spencer’s desk.

“Who is that?” Penelope asked.

The person in the chair turned around and Spencer’s face lit up.

“Hey guys.” You say waving not noticing Spencer yet.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! That’s Y/N L/N! She’s here!” Penelope said hitting Morgan excitedly.

“Oh my god it is.” He said surprised.

“Have you guys seen Spencer?”

“Y/N” Spencer said surprised as well.

“Spencer!” You said running up to him and jumping into his arms.

The whole team just looked at you guys with shock in their faces.

You guys are totally oblivious at the looks that are being given.

“I thought you weren’t coming until next week.”

“It was obviously a surprise Spence now shut up and kiss me baby!” You say smiling.

You press his lips onto his and he melts in the kiss. Your hands went up to his hair and his hands rest on your hips. Hotch cleared his throat. You two broke apart.

You turn around and apologized and you saw Penelope shaking with excitement.

“You must be Penelope. I have some gifts for you.” You walked over to Spencer’s desk. “This is my new album on a disk and it even has some songs that didn’t make the cut.” You say winking. She was just staring in awe.

“And it’s also signed. I also have backstage passes to a tour that hasn’t been announced yet.” She squealed and you just laughed.

She looked at your boyfriend. “I’m never letting her go.”

Everyone laughed.

Spencer is not living this one down.

An: AHHHHH I just want to apologize for not giving exactly want the request said this just took a mind of its own fr but I hoped you enjoyed until I post again my lovers 🤍

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Broken Melodies- Christopher Sturniolo (blurb)

Summary: In which in this story Chris is a singer but fame get to him and he looses the one thing he loves the most

Warnings: none that I know of..

A/N: I was gonna write a Matt fic but this came to my mind and I HAD to write it :) please remember in this story Chris isn’t a social media influencer he is a singer :)

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the empty space where Chris used to lie. The room was filled with an eerie silence, punctuated only by the faint hum of the city outside. It had been a week since Chris left, a week since their last argument, a week since her heart had been shattered.

Christopher Sturniolo was the love of her life, but fame had changed him. His music career had taken off, and with it came late nights, endless parties, and a distance that grew with every passing day. Y/N had tried to hold on, tried to support him, but the man she fell in love with was slipping away.

Their last fight played on a loop in her mind. She had begged him to stay, to talk, to let her in, but Chris had just stared at her with those haunted eyes, full of sorrow and something she couldn't quite name. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he had whispered before walking out the door, leaving her in a suffocating silence.

Now, the apartment was a graveyard of memories. Y/N wandered through the rooms, touching the places where their laughter used to echo. She found his guitar, the strings untouched, gathering dust. The sight of it made her chest tighten. Music had brought them together, but now it felt like it was tearing them apart.

Days turned into nights, and Y/N found herself sinking deeper into a void of loneliness. She tried to paint, to pour her emotions onto the canvas, but every stroke felt hollow. Her art, once a source of solace, now mirrored her desolation.

One evening, as she sat in their living room, Y/N heard a faint knock on the door. Her heart leapt, hoping it was Chris. She opened the door to find a small package on the doorstep, addressed to her in Chris’ handwriting. With trembling hands, she brought it inside and tore it open. Inside was a letter and a USB drive.

Y/N unfolded the letter, her eyes scanning Christopher's familiar scrawl.

"Y/N,

I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to understand. I was lost, drowning in a world I couldn't navigate. The fame, the pressure, it was too much. I felt like I was losing myself, and in the process, I lost you. I'm so sorry. I wrote something for you. It's on the USB. I hope it helps you understand how much you mean to me, even if I couldn't show it the way you deserved.

Love always,

Chris"

With tears streaming down her face, Y/N plugged the USB into her laptop. A single audio file popped up, titled "For Y/N." She clicked play, and Chris' voice filled the room, raw and filled with emotion.

The song was a haunting melody, a beautiful yet heartbreaking confession of his struggles, his love for her, and his regret. As Y/N listened, she felt a mix of pain and love swell within her. Each note was a piece of his soul, laid bare for her to see.

By the time the song ended, Y/N was sobbing. She knew Chris was battling demons she couldn't fully understand, but this song, this final gift, was a glimpse into his tortured heart. It was a reminder of the love they shared, even in their darkest moments.

Y/N clutched the letter to her chest, whispering to the empty room, "I forgive you, Christopher. I love you."

She didn't know if he would ever come back, but she hoped he found peace. And as the last notes of his song echoed in her mind, she felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other, one broken melody at a time.

A/N P2: idk if anyone wants a part 2, i definitely have ideas for part 2, but if you DOOOO then you should def comment on this :)

Xoxo

💋

Gabs

[aestheticpearl]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

✧·˚feat: kayson mayer, jonah, xanthus claiborne, andrew marston, issac rhoades, elias, zaros athat'lin, luca pearce, rowan

✧·˚summary: this is basically just my headcanons of what kind of music each character listens to and their favorite albums since saku only really listens to soundtracks and can’t really tell what they would like (that is a joke btw i know you also listen to some kpop)

✧·˚a/n: music is a very important thing to me so i hope i did everyone justice and feel free to add your opinions as well!

kayson mayer ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

you never walk alone - bts . fine line - harry styles . hard to imagine the neighborhood ever changing - the neighborhood

okay hear me out, i definitely think kayson would be a kpop fan, not like a kpop stan more of a “i enjoy their music” more than anything. i feel like kayson isn’t huge on music but he love the slower stuff when he’s not at practice or trying to get pumped up for volleyball. he seems to have more of a moody taste in music in contrast to his more up beat personality, but i mean we all gotta cry over something.

jonah ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT - billie eilish . currents - tame impala . brat - charli xcx

this bitch definitely loves billie eilish. only man i know that definitely cries to ‘what was i made for?’ besides kayson maybe. he fucks heavy with tame impala, but not in the master manipulator why that other man fuck with it. he loves having them on in the background of streams mostly. hyper pop king, loves charli xcx and he is having a brat summer. he is definitely on tiktok so much and is very much influenced by what’s trending on the app.

xanthus claiborne ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - taylor swift . firebird suite - igor stravinsky . preacher’s daughter - ethel cain

LISTEN OKAY xanthus is the kind to never admit that he would listen to taylor swift but god damn it he loves her new album and her slower stuff she is his guilty pleasure artist for sure. okay he loves classical music but like classical music don’t really have ‘albums’ per say so i chose his favorite piece. firebird suite is something that he has adored the story that is told through the music, same with ethel cain’s preachers daughter. he loves how the music is telling a story more than anything.

andrew marston ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

something to give each other - troye sivan . being funny in a foreign language - the 1975 . harry styles - harry styles

do you feel the rush andrew? sorry. i think honestly he has always loved troye sivan, might be the repressed gay in him but who knows. a full really fond of being funny in a foreign language, loves how raw the whole album is and enjoys the slower ballads. loves the debut album of harry styles, it’s just so soft and sweet he really likes listening to it.

issac rhoades ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

cry - cigarettes after sex . laurel hell - mitski . did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd - lana del ray

bro is depressed. like i don’t know what you were expecting with him. he knows that most of the songs on the cry album are very sad but some are very sweet and he like the mix of the two. mommy issues up the wazoo so of course he listens to mitski. lana del ray is new and a bit more positive of a listen, it’s almost like someone special came into his life and change the outlook of it a bit.

elias ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

who really cares - tv girl . star boy - the weeknd . positions - ariana grande

something about this tv girl album just screams elias to me and i think he would really enjoy this album the most out of the others. of course he loves the weeknd just look at him, he is a starboy and a party monster on the weekends. this bitch loves ariana grande’s positions album so much he created a stan twitter just to defend it against the haters.

zaros athat'lin ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

the rise and fall of a midwest princess - chappell roan . MEGAN - megan thee stallion . GUTS (spilled) - olivia rodrigo

was it casual when you fought my claim? he loves chappell roan and will definitely tell you he listened to her before she blew up which in his defense he did but he doesn’t need to keep telling people that. loves megan thee stallion her new album is what he listens too before he insults the fuck outta earis. loves the range of emotions he feels when listening to olivia rodrigo, i’m convinced he’s just a teenage girl.

luca pearce ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

songs - adrianne lenker . teenage dream - katy perry . MAP OF THE SOUL : PERSONA - bts

soft baby child loves soft songs that can put his ass to sleep in less than fifteen minutes. katy perry is his favorite, teenage dream got him through college and continues to make him romanticize the crap out of his relationship, as he should! he loves kpop, i just feel it in my bones that he loves persona and how happy the album is.

rowan ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

favorite albums:

louder than bombs - the smiths . AM - arctic monkeys . the game - queen

he loves music that you could find in an old vinyl record store and these albums capture his taste perfectly in my opinion. a bit of indie here and alt rock there and you’ve got a rowan playlist that he will put on anytime he drives you anywhere.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

this is where i would put my glittery divider but i can’t add anymore photos lmao

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[superblysubpar]

masterlist | the music

4.2k words | This is an 18+ NSFW series

epilogue warnings: see that fun little e word? yeah you're missing a whole bunch, and I strongly encourage you to head to the masterlist linked above and read their story! I had fun writing it (most days), I hope you have fun reading it | there's a hint to a lovely little thing @rebelfell wrote for Eddie on Halloween Party night and I am not only incredibly touched that something I wrote inspired her to write, but I am grateful for the blessing to leave his story open for more exploration using her story 💛 | mentions of the holiday Christmas being celebrated by reader | minor descriptions of PIV smut, but ultimately it's some good old fade to black movie shit

Steve’s hands cup the back of your head, tilting you open for him as he ducks down, mouth hovering above yours as he speaks like you’re the only two people in the world. 

“But right now? Right now I’m gonna kiss you.”

“Which bad 90s rom com you steal that one out of, Harrington?” You whisper against his lips. 

Steve smiles, gaze tracing the curve of your lips then meeting yours as he takes a deep breath. 

“You liked it.” 

And maybe the marquee lights twinkle above you a little brighter as you finally meet in a kiss. Maybe snowflakes start drifting down from the clouds lazily, covering everything in a fresh start right at the moment his hands wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer, your back arching from the passion of his kiss. Maybe a terrible top forty song blares out of someone’s car as it drives past, your foot popping off the pavement a little when he pulls away for a breath only to lean and kiss you deeper and slower. 

The universe can’t guarantee anything for you and Steve, but it is giving you a chance. There is nothing, not even love, that can keep away the inevitable struggle, heartbreak, or loss life will be sure to throw at you. Which is scary, but doing it together, his hand in yours, makes it less so. Yes, it won’t always be easy, but the hard work you’ll both put in when it isn’t, means it’s real. There is no one other than yourselves who can decide if your relationship could be like the movies. The two of you are the only ones that can calculate if there’s still time for a happy ending in your story. Only Steve and you can be certain that the fear of heartbreak or pain is worth taking the risk, because if you don’t, if you let the chance slip away, you’ll never know if one day you could have called it love. 

Eddie’s nose presses into your navel, fingers adjusting on your hips as you squirm. 

“Eddie!”

“Hold still!” He laughs, your green plastic shamrock hanging from your neck knocks against his forehead as his arms move to wrap around the back of your thighs. 

“We’re on the other side!” Robin screams into her phone. A boy with a jug full of nauseating lime colored liquid brushes up against her, smiling with green tinged lips. She wrinkles her nose as he hiccups, liquor and kool-aid sloshing from the jug out onto the sidewalk and narrowly missing her shoes. 

“I can see-Fuck!” You shout, arm raising to wave but body hunching, falling over Eddie’s head as he adjusts and almost drops you. 

Fingers grip his curls at the sudden balance issues, eliciting a quiet “Ow,” from him and a soft “Sorry,” from you. 

Robin huffs into the phone, craning her neck and hand hovering behind your back like she alone could prevent Eddie dropping you over the railing and into the river. “I’m wearing green - well light green!”

Eddie snorts a laugh into your hip as he pushes you higher, your fingers wrap around the cement and you pull yourself up, waving your arms wildly to bring attention to your group as Eddie holds your lower half up, bracing his back against the railing.  

Just on the other side of the bridge, you see him clinging to a light pole, body slowly circling it, head swiveling in all directions with the phone pressed to his ear. His hair has gotten darker from the lack of sun, longer too, and it curls slightly behind his ears and at the nape of his neck, blowing in the light breeze. 

When he makes his final turn, he sees you as your arms drop. His grin widens, bright even from this far. You watch his mouth move as he speaks into the phone without taking his eyes off of you. 

Robin calls up, rolling her eyes, “He says you’re really pretty.”

Your head throws back in a deep laugh, the movement causing Eddie to panic and adjust his hands holding your legs and you both topple to the ground, taking Robin with you as your leg bangs against the cement railing at just the right angle, hard.

The people of Chicago simply walk around the three of you, as you lay on the cold and dirty sidewalk moaning. 

“Your foot is in my spleen Edward, get off,” Robin whines, shoving at his shoulders.

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m not the one who decided to fall!” He rolls, but freezes as you wince.

You sit up, rubbing at your knee, closing your eyes with a choked off whimper, willing the tears that want to spring out from the sharp pain away. 

“Shit, uh, ice? I can go see if someone has ice?” Robin asks, eyes wide and blinking down at you when you open yours.

Eddie’s nose scrunches, head tilting as he asks, “Why would anyone have ice just walking around?”

“I don’t know, it’s St. Patrick’s Day, people need it for their drinks! Oh! I can call Nancy, she’s still sleeping, but-”

“Robin,” you laugh, cutting her off, “I’m fine. Just give me a sec.”

As you press your palms to the cement and brace yourself to stand, you wince again and his voice is suddenly right in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop.” 

Looking up, Steve is crouching down, hands reaching toward your leg. Light jeans and a deep, hunter green sweatshirt revealed to you under his now open gray peacoat. Dark strands of hair fall over his forehead, slightly covering the lines of worry deepening as he frowns at your knee. Something inside your chest swells, like thousands of butterflies are waking up and migrating to your stomach and causing dumb and unfiltered words to fall out of your mouth. 

“Do you have a band-aid? I think I scraped my knee falling for you.”

Steve snorts out a laugh, eyes bright, the sweater making the moss in them outshine the brown as he looks at you with amusement. Robin and Eddie boo in tandem behind your shoulders.

Steve’s hand curls around your ankle, gold ring on his middle finger glinting as his thumb brushes the skin under your pant leg as he shakes his head, “Honey, I’m gone for two days and look at you. How am I gonna be able to leave for three months?”

“They said yes?!” Forgetting your pain, you lean forward, hands grabbing his cheeks as he nods, bottom lip fitting between yours as he kisses you with a sigh. 

Steve's hand curls around your neck, thumb sliding down along your jaw as he kisses you like you are very much not in public, your stomach swooping as his tongue traces the curve of your top lip. 

“You're both sick,” Eddie gags.

“May I remind you,” Robin starts as Steve and you part, breathless, his eyes rolling and mouth fighting a smile as she keeps going, “That the sidewalk is probably covered in piss and puke and who knows what else and we are not that far from the spot where Dave Matthews literally dumped shi-”

“We know!” The three of you call out in tandem, interrupting the story you all could recite with the same inflections and punchlines she does. 

“Steve, I'm so happy for you. Those kids are gonna have the best time,” speaking quietly to him, your fingers curl the hair around his ear that's turning pink and he dips his head, bashful. 

“I hope so. I think it's cool that these players are gonna take breaks in their schedule and donate their time to teach them. I mean, they're gonna get experiences and lessons that they would never have gotten if not for this program and…sorry.” He shakes his head, biting back his excitement.

You lift his chin and give him another soft, and chaste kiss. The thundering of your heartbeat in your ears is worse than it’s ever been, the words sit ready on your tongue, but just don't come out. 

His eyes bounce between yours, like he’s waiting, before he finally looks down, clearing his throat as he gestures to your knee. “Can I?”

Feeling warm from the missed moment and under his concern, all you can do is nod silently. Steve’s thumbs slide over the sides of your kneecap, pressing gently and you wince. He tilts his head, fingers moving up to prod at the spot again and you grab his wrist with a whimper. 

“Well, I think bar hopping all day is out of the question,�� Steve smiles sadly at you, “I think we should get some ice and heat on it. Prop it up.”

“But-” you start to protest and Robin interrupts.

“Already called an Uber, we can head to Nance and I's, have a chill day and then head to Murray's later tonight like originally planned.”

Sighing because you know you'll never win against the two of them teamed up, you nod. Steve’s arm curls around your waist as he helps you stand, both of you looking around with a frown.

“Where's Eddie?” You ask, head swiveling. 

Robin shrugs, gesturing behind you. “I don't know, he just took off running across the bridge when he got this look on his face. He was gone before I could ask.” She punches Steve’s shoulder, smiling, “Congrats Dingus.”

He smiles and lets you go, fingers slipping from your side as his arms wrap around her in a tight hug. As they squeeze each other, you take the opportunity to glance up at the circular, familiar towers. The stream of green clad people entering and exiting the House of Blues and you smile to yourself, thinking about the first time you were here and how far you’ve all come in just a year. 

Eddie rounds the corner, coming off the bridge then. His hands shoved in his leather jacket’s pockets, dirty sneaker dragging and kicking a pebble as he shakes his head, shoulders dropping in disappointment. 

“What’s the matter, tough guy?” You pout, tilting your head.

He waves it away, shrugging, “Nothing,” and your eyes narrow as he claps Steve on the shoulder, “Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” They both hit each other’s shoulders in a hug and you make eye contact with Eddie over Steve’s shoulder, arms crossing and eyebrows raised at him. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing you know it isn’t nothing and he will not be able to run from you. 

“Uber’s here!” 

Steve’s nose buries itself deeper into the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling even with deep breaths. You brush the hair from his forehead and kiss his temple. 

Smiling against his skin, you look up to see Eddie staring at the two of you. A deep frown pulls his lips down, his thumbs dragging against the label of the beer in his hands, shredding it slowly. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, hoping the sudden movement of your chest and noise of your voice doesn’t wake Steve. “I just missed him. I know the PDA is gross.”

“Hmm?” Eddie hums, like he didn’t really hear you, blinking at you confused. 

Gesturing with your free arm to him you explain, “You look kind of upset about our cuddling. And you were all grumpy at the river.”

He was fairly silent during the ride to Nancy and Robin’s, letting you prop your leg up on his thighs with your back against Steve’s chest as he stared out the window. Robin disappeared into their bedroom an hour ago, claiming to go wake Nancy who’d gotten in after midnight from chasing a story on the east coast, but you’re certain she’s asleep next to her. Steve had helped you to the couch, gingerly rolling your jeans up, mumbling his diagnosis around a wince at the sight of your swollen knee. He set you up with ice and a pillow, and you couldn’t blame him for also falling asleep after his busy weekend of meetings and flights. 

And Eddie was silent through it all, the only sound in the apartment being Charlie running around on screen trying to catch a Leprechaun in an episode of It’s Always Sunny. He just shakes his head, avoiding the question. 

“Come on Eddie, spill the beans. Open the door.” Prodding him with a smile and a small shrug of your shoulders. 

He smiles around a sip of beer, but shakes his head again. Eddie stands, punching the mantle lightly, before he turns and looks at Steve, then you as he blurts, “How’d you do it?”

Your brows pinch together as you question, “How’d I do what?”

“Fall in love again after…after being so hurt. What was the first step?”

His question surprises you, palms sweating as your skin prickles from a familiar burn. Glancing down at Steve before you stumble over a response, “We’re not…I’m not…I haven’t…”

Eddie gives you a look of disbelief, like you’re really trying to lie to him and he sits down on your other side. His eyebrows furrow under his bangs as he looks out the window seeming to be looking at something much further away.

“Okay, fine, easier question. Do you believe in soul mates?”

“What?” Blinking at him and wondering where he is going with all of this, your body squirming under the weight of Steve growing heavier. 

Eddie waves his hand around, searching for the words. “You know destiny. Help from the universe. A plan for everything. Fate and shit.”

Cocking your head to the side, you ponder his words. Steve’s arm sits curled around your waist and a soft snore leaves him, breath hitting your chest and you smile. “Yeah, I think I do. Never used to…but I don’t know. I think it’s nice to believe in those kinds of things sometimes.”

Eddie nods, the last of the label ripping and he swallows harshly before looking back up at you. His big, brown eyes blink at you seriously, full of more hope than you’ve ever seen in a person before. 

“Do you think you’re not supposed to meet them until you get your shit together? Like you’re meant to meet them at the right time? And how do you know it’s the right time? What if the right time passes you by?”

“I think,” you start, careful with your words as they come out. Your fingers brush through Steve’s hair carefully, whispering your answer as you stare at his cheek, “I think that sure, when you know, you know about someone. But that doesn’t mean admitting it to yourself, or anyone else for that matter, is easy. And maybe there is a plan, a person for everyone, but it’s up to you to decide when the time is right. Because,” you laugh quietly and Steve adjusts against you, his legs sandwiching your thigh and you look at Eddie, “Your shit is never gonna be together without that person, if they really are the one, right? Because wouldn’t your life not be perfect, whatever that means…or not on the right track, without them? Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah,” he smiles sadly at his bottle, brows furrowing even deeper, “Yeah it does. Thanks.”

He looks at Steve and then back at you, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, you really haven’t told him?”

Swallowing loudly, your heartbeat picks up as your mouth parts to blurt out an excuse. Eddie only raises his empty beer bottle with a smirk, and stands, leaving you alone with Steve. 

It’s just not that simple. 

You’ve wanted to say it so many times over the last year, but the words never come out. Despite the work you’ve put in with yourself and your relationship, despite knowing it’s better to say it than spend your life wondering what if, saying that is still scary. 

Love is a powerful emotion and word not to be thrown around, but you also know the words are never just going to come out on their own. You will have to actively decide to say them, to take the leap into the unknown and leave your heart open even more for Steve. 

“Oh no,” Robin laughs around a moan. 

Nancy and your shot glasses hit the table, tart lime releasing over your tongue to counter some of the sting of the tequila flowing down your throat. Robin shakes her head and gestures to the stage and a cackling laugh leaves you as Steve winks at the table, tossing the microphone in the air from his spot waiting on deck for karaoke. 

“Oh, god, we need more tequila,” Nancy laughs, fingers covering her smile as she hiccups. 

Robin points at her. “No more tequila.”

“But, babe, this is going to be bad,” Nancy whines, “You’ve heard him-”

“Oh no.” You bury your head in your arms on the sticky table as the name of his song choice flashes on the screen. 

Robin starts laughing uncontrollably and Steve clears his throat, looking directly at you where you peek out from behind your hands. “This is for you baby.” He points to you as the beginning notes of Rocketman by Elton John begin to drift from the speakers and the crowd cheers and whistles. 

“Here, you’re gonna need this when he hits the falsetto,” Eddie hands you a beer, distributing more drinks around the table, shaking his head. 

You can’t help but have a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt as Steve sings to you, dramatic facial expressions and pressing his hand to his chest, winking at you as he declares he’s a rocket man. You can’t help but cheer, and feel hot under his stare, can’t help but think about saying those words right then and there, what if you just screamed them across the bar for everyone to hear. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie sputters on his beer next to you. 

“What?” You turn, confused, worried you actually did blurt them out. 

“She’s…she’s here. I thought I saw her at the river, that’s where I went, and l lost her, and she’s here. She’s…”

“Who, what?” You step closer to him, leaning in and he spins your shoulders and points to a girl at the bar.

“I met her at that disastrous Halloween party a year ago and she was perfect and awesome and you and Steve had to go and pretend like you weren’t in love and fuck it all up.”

“We weren’t-”

“Please, who shows up in a couples costume accidentally. Boy loved you then and he loves you now. But none of that matters because she’s here.” His cheeks are pink, staring at her and gulping. “That’s a sign right? What do I do?”

“Go get her.” You shove his shoulder with a smile and his eyes widen, but he nods, taking a step towards the bar. 

He pauses, and you wonder if it’s his moment, his what if, his leap. You smile as he squares his shoulders and keeps going, stopping in front of the girl who looks at him surprised. She smiles as he extends his hand, ears red and talking nonstop. She takes it, shaking it and nodding. 

Steve is bowing to cheering from Robin and Nancy as he approaches the table and Murray clears his throat in the microphone. 

“Well, uh, that sure was somethin’ huh?” He frowns at Steve and deadpans to the crowd, “We’re gonna take a break now.”

You hide your laughter into the beer as Steve drums on the table, smiling at you, leaning in close. Lips brushing over your ear as he teases, “I cannot believe you have a thing for Elton John.”

Your head throws back in a laugh as he kisses under your ear, his smile sticking to your skin as you nod. “You got me, Harrington.”

Steve and you stand close together and he smiles at something over your shoulder and clears his throat, “Hey, um, how’s your knee? Feel like sitting for a little?”

His fingers tangle with yours, his voice soft, and something in you melts under his gaze as you nod.

“Great,” he kisses you lightly, pulling away and guiding you across the room, coming to a stop in front of the vintage photo booth. “I think we should try this again.”

As he pulls the red curtain back and sits, this time, you don’t hesitate when he pats his thigh. Your heart hammers inside of your chest, the metal armor around it clatters to the floor with one final knock. 

Steve’s arms wrap around your waist easily, fingers slipping together as he clears his throat and leans forward, looking at you as he asks with a smile, “Ready?”

In that moment, you wish there was a photobooth to capture every moment of the last year - every memory. 

You nod, the machine whirring to life as you smile at each other for the first photo. As the flash happens, Steve lets out a shaky breath, your hands moving up to his jaw without really thinking about it. Your fingertips trace over his face, eyebrows, his nose, the pair of freckles on his cheek and his cupid’s bow as his hands squeeze up your waist and sides. 

You wish there had been a camera when Steve surprised you with dinner that first week together. Your favorite food, a bottle of wine, and then he slow danced with you to ‘It Had To Be You’ in his living room. You could have said it then, a week of barely dating, but it felt so easy. 

Steve leans into your touch as the second flash happens. You twist in his lap, breath coming sharper as you straddle him, your nose brushing up his as you smile. 

If only there had been a camera when Steve came over to your apartment and found you crying over your phone screen, the animal shelter page was brought up and he went with you the next day. Why didn’t you blurt it out then, when back at his place, he was on all fours, a small black lab’s head tilted at him curiously. Steve held a plush sword and whispered in a terrible voice “Your name is Inigo Montoya, I killed your father, I’m prepared to die,” and pretended to be impaled by the sword when the rescued puppy pounced on him. 

Steve’s hand moves up your spine slowly, his other cupping your jaw as your lips just brush when the third flash goes off. 

If you’re being honest with yourself, it’s been an active fight to not say those three little words to him since Christmas. You had a fight, and of course it was about money. How you had seen the package with European stamps and he said it was a present for you and you yelled about how he can’t just buy expensive things because he can and what were you supposed to do, how were you supposed to get him a gift of equal value. That’s when he ripped open the brown shipping package, lifting out of packing peanuts, a glass blue dish - just like the one that shattered. He held it carefully, shaking his head, apologizing for breaking the original, for knowing that he couldn’t replace it, but he searched and searched and found this one. Nobody had a camera, and you didn’t say it, because that’s when you knew. That’s when it got really scary and really real. 

Steve’s lips press to yours as the fourth flash happens, your stomach dropping like a roller coaster as his breath exhales into your inhale. 

Easier than breathing. 

“Will you move in with me?”

“I love you.”

Both questions asked in sync and you blink, shocked. Steve keeps going, eyes closed as he speaks, “I know it’s a big step, but I think we’re ready and…”

“Yes.”

“Wait, what did you say?”

Steve’s eyes shoot open, your response and his question leaving you both at the same time again. 

Your eyes are full of tears, laughing as you cup his cheeks and exhale, repeating the words. 

“I love you.”

The fifth flash goes off as Steve smiles, thumb holding your chin as he gulps around the words. “I love you too.”

Steve’s fingers fumble with his keys, refusing to separate his lips from yours until you’re speaking into them, an ache in your gut as your fingers scratch at the back of his head.

“Baby, hurry.”

He whimpers into your lips, “Not fair.”

It’s a mess of keys hitting the floor and shoes and coats ripped off, easy laughter as he attacks your neck with hot presses of his lips, frantic as he speaks around them, “Fast enough for you, huh?”

“Steve,” you stutter over your laugh, toes curling against the carpet as he sucks on that spot he found just below your ear.  

He’s smug, speaking into your neck as his hands on your hips guide you backwards until your knees hit his bed. He gasps out a desperate plea as you both fall. 

“Say it again.”

Your fingers curl the hair around his ears, swallowed whole by the forest in his eyes, you want to be buried there as you raise your head from the sheets. 

“I.” A kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Love.” He exhales as your lips skim over his jaw. 

“You.” Lips dragging over the two moles on his neck and he melts against you. 

He lifts himself, palms pressed to the mattress next to your head, saying it right back like it’s a promise. 

“I love you.”

He unbuckles your jeans, carefully removing them. Kissing your ankle, your knee, and then the crease of your thigh as he murmurs into your skin, “I love how you slap my shoulder when the colors in a sunset change. And that you mouth along the words to your favorite movies.”

His fingers drag up your shirt, lips and nose grazing up your stomach as you squirm beneath him. 

“I love the way you dance in the kitchen as you burn anything you touch and sing so off key into your shampoo bottle in the shower.”

He keeps going, telling you every little thing he’s grown to love about you, only stopping when you start to interrupt him and do the same. Soft touches and lingering kisses between words whispered to each other that replace your breaths, because it’s not easier than doing so, it’s what gives you the ability to be able to. 

When his hand flexes on your waist, a slow thrust in and your back arches, his head dips into your neck and he pauses his movements. Steve’s nose drags along the gold chain that rests between your collarbones. He props himself up, free hand grazing up your side as your hips roll once slowly, and he lifts the little gold ‘S’ hanging from it. 

“Mine,” he whispers.

You nod, body shivering with the word and the gentle tug he gives the necklace. 

“Yours.”

Lips meet desperately, as your bodies melt together, declarations of devotion spoken between sweet kisses and praise. Steve’s fingers lace with yours as you both climb higher and higher. Gripping each other’s hands, pushed above your head and into the mattress, as planets align, euphoria breaks over you like waves crashing, flames burning hotter, stars exploding, and you finally meet each other where you’ve always been meant to - calling it love. 

WCIL Taglist: @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @johnricharddeacy @freezaz123 @selfdeprecatingnerd @big-ope-vibes @manda-panda-monium @hellkaisersangel @yogizzz @soulmatecashton @happytimeunicorns @mandyjo8719 @lunarxeclipse @buckleylips @beckkthewreck @differentdeputyfishpaper @supardupar @micheledawn1975 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sagelittleplace @totally-bogus-timelady @steves-babysitter @fallinginlovewithqueue @aftermidnightwriting @omgshesinsane @pootcullen @definitionwanderlust @nostalgiafool @palmtreesx3 @scoopshxrrington @live-the-fangirl-life @eddiesguitarskills @mannstarkey @keepingitlokiii @silkholland @redbarn1995

[carlisles-girl]

So I was wondering if you can make Caius headcannons with a mate who is swiftie and who is a fan of Lana Del Rey, a female mate pls

a/n: of course !! i love taylor n lana <3 he’s so ultraviolence

-

Caius With A Mate Who’s A Fan of Taylor Swift and Lana Del Rey

-

Caius would probably prefer listening to Lana Del Rey more than Taylor Swift whenever you play music.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Taylor’s music, he just prefers the production of Lana’s work more.

He’s definitely an Ultraviolence and Honeymoon girlie.

Caius supports your love for your favourite artists, on the condition you don’t love them more than him.

One time you joked that you loved Taylor and Lana more than him and he didn’t join you for dinner for 3 days.

Tells you that he should be your favourite musician because he can play almost any instrument, but he prefers playing piano.

When ‘Snow On The Beach’ was released, he learned how to play it on piano for you.

“I hope you like this, mia amore.”

He would prefer the albums ‘folklore’ and ‘evermore’ from Taylor, but ‘Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)’ is definitely his guilty pleasure.

He likes listening to the instrumentals from Ultraviolence and Born To Die.

Definitely appreciates the poetry that’s Lana’s lyrics.

“How could a mortal write this?”

Loves Taylor’s lyrics on a story-telling level.

“Timeless is so us.”

“What does that mean?”

Gets tired when you play the same songs over and over again.

“Mia amore, please play something else.”

“I thought you liked this song?”

“You’re making me hate it.”

You best believe he got you tickets to The Eras Tour.

“Oh my god, did you like, give a limb for these?”

“… Something like that.”

He wouldn’t hear the end of you talking about what you’re gonna wear for weeks and weeks.

“Darling, please. It’s a few hours in one seat, not a ball.”

“Might as well be.”

Caius matches his outfit with yours to be supportive.

Is very confused when you yell the lyrics to All Too Well.

“Don’t I treat you better than how Jake Gyllanhaal did Taylor?”

“How’d you know that?”

“Something about a scarf.”

Has bought you every edition of every Taylor and Lana album ever on vinyl.

He actually managed to get a copy of the Lust for Life heart-shaped vinyl for you.

Listens to Lover and thinks of you when you’re away.

Aro found him sitting in his office with that song playing and asked if Caius was alright.

“Are you alright, dear brother?”

He’d put a hand on Caius’ shoulder knowing Caius wouldn’t tell him verbally and immediately understands.

“They’ll be back soon.”

“I know.”

Isn’t a big fan of pop, but endures it for you.

He would never ask to put on anything that you like, but would secretly hope that you will.

When the love songs come on, he’ll dance with you if you’re up for it.

Lover, invisible string, willow, and Timeless, are his favourite Taylor Swift songs to dance to with you.

Religion is his favourite Lana Del Rey song to dance to with you.

The gifts he gives you are very catered towards your love for Taylor and Lana.

As well as his declarations of love; he often quotes their songs.

“You’re my religion, mia amore.”

[rorywritesjunk]

No longer locked upon the land but free on the rolling waves

You and Buggy come face to face with himself from the past, and while you’re fully accepting that this is your husband as a child, Buggy doesn’t want to accept it.

Rating: PG-13ish, but just due to some swearing.

Warning: Upset kid, upset husband. Reader is way too nice, doesn’t necessarily take husband’s feelings into account as well.

A/N: A combined request. I did a few versions of this story before feeling like it hit the marks I was wanting to hit. Also, I’m just trying to vibe off what I’ve seen of Kid Buggy. I’m no expert. I’d protect that kid with my life. He’s so adorable. I also like the trope of “Meeting your self from another time” and “gets turned back into kid-self”. This is the former, and I know shit about time travel but I just kind of made something up. This story has also been a lot of fun to work on and the reaction from people has been lovely, thank you! There's at least one more chapter (unless I get a surge and suddenly write way more), but I may write a few one shots about Buggy and his wife because I've come to adore her a lot. Title comes from "Sailing Song" by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6/Epilogue

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @misadventures0fdes @sylum @valen-yamyam16 @dohkyu @fluffybunnyu @skyofsteel @lavalampskyy @gingernut1314 @ane5e

Chapter Four

“Is he mad at me?” Buggy asked when the two of you were in the kitchen together. He was helping you make dinner; you gave him the task of cutting up carrots while you cut up onions and celery to throw in a large pot. Neither of you saw Buggy ever since the kid asked him about Shanks, and that was a few hours ago. He thought maybe he was in trouble, that the captain was mad at him for asking those questions. 

“No, he isn’t.” You assured him as you wiped your knife on your apron. “Shanks is… a sensitive subject for him. I don’t even know what happened, but don’t worry, okay?” You smiled and took one of the pieces of carrot, popping it into your mouth. “I know the captain enjoyed showing the place off to you, y’know.”

“I liked seeing everything, especially those Buggy Balls!” Buggy grinned. “Can we fire one out of a cannon?”

“Oh uh, maybe?” You munched on the carrot as you took what he cut up so far, dumping them into the pot. “We’ll ask the captain next time we see him.”

Buggy nodded, watching the veggies get stirred in the pot for a bit before looking back up at you. “How long do I get to stay with you?”

That was a question you were waiting for but didn’t want to hear asked because you weren’t sure how to answer it. You didn’t know how long he would be with you, but what would get him home? Maybe tomorrow you could head back into town with him, see if anything can trigger his return, but part of you wanted to keep him around. Admittedly, that was a selfish want. He needed to return home because he had his own timeline to live through, and if he stayed here could it mess something up. 

You smiled at him and shrugged. “I dunno, but maybe tomorrow we head into town where we met and see if anything happens. I bet you wanna head home.”

“Yea…” He trailed off, looking back down at the veggies. “But if I could stay… I think I would.”

That was a knife to the heart again, because you would let him stay if you could. You’d give him the love and attention you knew he deserved, support his dreams and endeavors, everything. 

But he couldn’t stay. He needed to return home and that broke your heart. You just smiled at him and tossed some salt and pepper into the pot before pouring in some water.

“If you could, I know you would, and I’d be fine with that, Buggy.” You replied as you gave the pot a good stir before putting the lid on. “But… you have to go home at some point, because I don’t… know what could happen if you stay.” Turning to face him, you suddenly pulled him into your arms and hugged him. “I have loved having you around, you know. You’re a wonderful kid.”

He allowed the hug for a moment before pulling away, crossing his arms as he turned red. You chose not to say anything, instead just smiling and standing back up. He eyed you before bolting out of the kitchen all of a sudden, catching you off guard. What just happened? Did you upset him? 

Your husband entered the kitchen at that moment, looking in the direction the kid ran off too. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know.” You said with a frown. “I hugged him and called him wonderful, then he took off.”

“Huh.” Adult Buggy shrugged and went over to the stove to see what was being made for dinner. As he lifted the lid off, seeing the soup starting to slowly simmer, the kid came rushing back in with something in his hand. Buggy frowned at his younger self. “What’s going on?”

The kid looked him up and down before turning to you, holding something in his hands. He looked smug as he grabbed your hand and placed the item into it. You were confused for a moment, and when he pulled his hand back and you saw what it was, you almost dropped it. You had completely forgotten about the pendant and this was the first time you really got to see it up close and you nearly dropped it in surprise. 

“Consider this my proposal for when we meet again.” He said, looking quite proud of himself as he crossed his arms. Your husband’s jaw dropped and he raised the lid up, looking like he was going to throw it at him. You intervened and pocketed the pendant, kneeling down in front of the kid once more. It was hard not to laugh because the look of pride on the kid’s face was the same one you saw on a certain pirate captain when he asked you to marry him years ago, except you were given a bouquet of flowers with no petals (having been destroyed after he stole them and ran off with them) and a ring with a rock the size of his nose (also stolen). 

“Thank you, it’s lovely.” You told him; your husband grumbled and put the lid back. He wouldn’t risk hitting you with it by accident. You leaned over and gave the kid a kiss on the cheek, choosing not to comment further when his face turned bright red. Instead, you stood up and patted him on the head. “I’ll treasure it, Buggy.”

The kid side-eyed the husband, smirking at him despite blushing brightly. The little shit, he should have at least kept it until he met you later on. It didn’t make sense to give it to you now while you were already married to his adult self, but Adult Buggy didn’t say anything after you gave him that look that told him to keep his mouth shut or there would be consequences since he would likely say something stupid. Grumbling, he decided to take a seat at the table instead, the kid taking the seat across from him. He glared at the kid and the kid just smirked. To you, this was just hilarious but you were doing your best not to start laughing. 

~

You allowed them to fire one Buggy Ball out to the water after dinner and that was it. There was to be no town destroying during this trip and the identical grumpy looks from the two of them was amusing, but you put your foot down. You even stood by, watching to make sure it was just one, and the look of excitement on the kid’s face almost made you cave to allow a second one, but you remained strong. You didn’t cave, even when the two of them gave you doe eyes after your husband asked if they could. 

And you decided to allow it after reminding the captain that it was wasting ammo, and that a demonstration was one thing, but now it was just a waste. He hated it when you pointed those things out. Reluctantly, he decided not to fire off a second one, much to his and the kid’s disappointment.

As it grew later into the evening, you decided it was time to settle in for the night. The kid was easier to get ready for bed than your own husband, but you knew the captain also needed to make sure the crew had taken care of the ship for the night as well. 

The pendant was still in your pocket from the kid’s little proposal, the weight of it a reminder from a moment in your own past. You got the kid ready for bed but you didn’t change into your own sleep clothes, which he noticed and frowned at.

“You’re not ready for bed.” He pointed out as you tucked him under the covers. He reached out and grabbed your arm. “Are you leaving?”

“What? No, no.” You shook your head as you sat down on the edge of the bed. “I promise I’m not leaving the ship tonight, Buggy.” You reached over and touched his cheek softly with your free hand and he let go of you. “I need to go talk to my husband about something, but I won’t leave the room until you fall asleep, okay?”

Buggy wasn’t sure about that. You were constantly around, but now you were going to leave him alone in your room? You saw the hesitation on his face and sighed softly. “Promise I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning, but if you wake up after I leave the room tonight, you can come find me. I’ll just be out on deck with the captain, okay? I won’t be mad if you need me, Buggy.”

That seemed to help. The kid just nodded and settled down under the covers, pulling them up to his nose. You leaned down and kissed him on the forehead before straightening back up. “How about you tell me another story about your time on the Oro Jackson?”

He beamed and nodded, launching into a story about some mischief him and Shanks got into. He yawned a few times while telling it, and it wasn’t too long before his eyes closed and he fell asleep. You made sure he was comfortable, watching him for a few minutes while he slept before getting up and heading to the doorway. You looked back once more, making sure he was asleep before you left the room to go find your husband.

The captain was on deck, arms crossed as several crewmen lingered about, no doubt on the night watch shift. He glanced back at you when he heard you approach, holding his arm out to you to pull you close to him. He shrugged his captain’s coat off, draping it over you as you reached into your pocket and pulled the pendant out, holding it up to him. He frowned as he looked down at it. 

It was an oval shape, cut from a piece of moss agate that when you held it up to the light, it was as though you were looking up at the sun through a thick forest of tall trees. You remember watching your father cut down and smooth the stone out to the shape it was while your mother fastened a chain to it, creating a lovely necklace for anyone who desired it. You remember it being on the table at their booth along with other pieces, but after a group walked past the table, it was missing. You remember being mad that it happened but your parents just shrugged it off, not bothered by the missing piece.

Now you had it in your hand over twenty five years later. 

“What’s this?” Your husband asked as he took it out of your hand, frowning as he looked at it. He studied it for a moment, eyes widening slowly as he started to remember what it was. “This-”

“Mhm, my parents had it on the edge of their table, making it a prime target for anyone with sticky fingers to steal it.” You told him as you took it out of his hand and stuck it back into your pocket. “Didn’t think my husband was the one who stole it.”

“I-I-”

“Buggy, it’s okay.” You chuckled at the look of panic on his face. Did he think you were going to divorce him over something petty he did to your family as a kid? “I wanted to show it to you, but… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything.” He blurted out, trying to mask the concern on his face after seeing that pendant. “Whatever you want, babe, just don’t… ask for a divorce, please.”

“No, I’m not asking for a divorce.” You assured him, wrapping your arms around him. “But… I’m just curious what happened to you as a kid. Do you… remember any of this happening?” 

He stared down at you and you tightened your arms around him, thinking he would bolt from you. Minutes went by before he finally shook his head and you frowned. He didn’t remember any of this, really?

“What… do you remember?” 

He hesitated for a moment, checking his surroundings for a moment to make sure no one else was listening. The crewmen paid you no mind, knowing better than to stare or make any comments about the two of you when there was any sort of display of affection between the two of you. After what felt like an eternity, your husband sighed and just shrugged.

“I remember snatching the pendant off the table when we walked past, and I was a few steps ahead of everyone.” He reached up and rubbed his face while you continued watching him, resting your chin against his chest as you listened to him talk. “There was some kind of light and… I walked into it, but there was just a moment of darkness, like I blinked or something, and then I was back and nowhere near the crew without the pendant. They said they lost sight of me for about fifteen or twenty minutes, but they weren’t worried.”

“They weren’t worried?” You repeated with a frown. “A kid under their watch disappears for that long and they weren’t worried?”

“We’re pirates, it didn’t matter-”

“It matters to me.” You said firmly. “Pirates or not, you were a kid who got lost and ended up somewhere new and scary, Buggy. I can’t… I can’t even imagine what that would have been like.” You huffed, releasing your hold on him just a bit. “Were… you scared of the kid because of what had happened to you back then? About not remembering what happened?”

He nodded slowly. You reached up and put your hands on his cheeks, bringing his head down to kiss him. You were trying not to lose your head at that moment because the love you had for him was a lot. You’d level a city to get to him, burn down a town, and if you had the chance you’d go back with the kid and give that crew a talking to about how to handle a missing kid. It wasn’t right, fair, anything and your heart hurt knowing this. Every kid deserved love, to feel safe and protected, and here your husband just told you that the adults he knew just shrugged off the fact that he had been missing for just a few minutes, while the kid in your care had been with you almost three days. 

You really wondered if you could sneak back in the timeline with the kid and give them a piece of your mind.

Your husband pulled back from the kiss first, a grin on his face as one of his hands went to your back, pulling your body closer to his. 

“It’s fine now, babe, I’m fine.” He insisted as his hand slid down your back. “Seeing the kid was just… startling.”

“You threw him overboard.” You reminded him as his hand stopped at the base of your spine.

He rolled his eyes. “Stop bringing that up.” 

“Don’t attempt to grab my ass when I’m being serious with you.” You shot back. 

“Now hang on-”

“What’re you two arguing about?” 

The two of you turned and saw the kid glaring sleepily in your direction. You pulled away from your husband and went over to him, lifting him up into your arms as he wrapped himself around you. With one arm you held him while the other pulled the coat off and draped it over him, wanting to make sure he was warm.

“Are you okay?” You asked him as you hugged him. He let his head drop onto your shoulder, nodding sleepily. “Come on, let’s go back to bed. I’m tired too.”

Your husband wanted to protest, he wanted more time with you, but the kid locked eyes with him and smirked. Oh, that little shit. Buggy huffed angrily, he would not be competing with a kid for your attention, but he was also very clingy of his wife, just like the kid was in this moment, and he would very much be ready to compete for your attention if needed.

“Buggy, come on, time for bed.” You called to him with a smile as you headed to the bedroom. The kid stuck his tongue out at the captain and he bristled angrily, ready to throw the kid overboard again if he needed to. Grumbling something about bratty kids, Buggy followed after you, wondering if he could throw the kid overboard without you noticing. 

[goldengalore]

Sweet Creature

A househusband!Harry fic.

Summary: Harry’s daughter wants him to sing with her at the school talent show. The only problem is… He has stage fright.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: slight angst (father-daughter disagreement)

A/N: Didn’t realize I would enjoy writing dadrry this much. I hope it’s as fun to read as it was to write :)

***

Y/N is not a morning person. At all. She would live like a night owl if she didn’t have to get up at the ass crack of dawn every day for work. On the bright side, she’s one of the few lucky people on this planet who actually loves her job. It has allowed her to build a comfortable life for her family, and early mornings are only a minor trade-off.

Besides, her mood always brightens up as soon as she heads downstairs and hears the lively chatter of her husband, Harry, and their eight-year-old daughter, Savannah, emanating from the kitchen. Unlike her, mornings are not a problem for Harry and Savannah. It’s like they both wake up with permanent smiles plastered to their beautiful faces.

“Good morning, my angels,” she greets them as she enters the kitchen.

“Morning, Mom,” replies Savannah from the dining table, her little voice muffled by a mouthful of cereal. Y/N kisses the top of her head.

“Morning, Mama. You’re right on time for breakfast,” says Harry, transferring scrambled eggs onto a plate for Y/N. “Oh, and I’ve put your lunch right by the door so you won’t forget it this time.”

She thanks him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. As she’s pouring herself a cup of coffee, Savannah asks, “Daddy, are you a musician?”

“A musician?” Harry responds distractedly as he carries the pan he used to cook the eggs over to the sink.

“Yeah! Yesterday at recess, Kayley told everyone that her dad is a musician.”

Who’s Kayley? Y/N mouths to Harry. Although she isn’t able to spend as much time with her daughter as Harry due to work, she makes every effort to be present in her life and keep track of all the little details, like the names of her friends. So, the mention of this unfamiliar name comes as a surprise to her.

New classmate, Harry mouths back.

Meanwhile, Savannah, oblivious to the silent exchange between her parents, continues with her story, “She said he makes music with his friends and they have a lot of fans on the internet, so I said ‘my dad is a musician too!’ Then Kayley asked if you have any fans on the internet, and I said no, you only play music for me and Mom, and then Kayley said ‘that’s not a musician.’ ”

“Well, I suppose she has a point,” says Harry, running cold water over the pan.

Y/N frowns. “What? You write your own music all the time. Just because you’re not posting it online doesn’t mean you’re not a musician.”

“Maybe an amateur musician?” he suggests with a shrug.

Turning to her daughter, Y/N states, “Savvy, your father is a musician.”

Savannah perks up in her seat like bread popping out of a toaster. “Okay! I’ll let Kayley know.”

“You do that, honey.” When Y/N looks back at Harry, a small smile has emerged on his face, one that he tries to conceal by staring down into the sink, but the dimple in his cheek gives him away.

He likes to pretend that he’s not serious about his music, that songwriting is just a fun little hobby he dabbles in once in a while without putting any real effort into it. But Y/N knows how deep his passion for music runs. His songs are his babies. She often tells him to make more time for songwriting, though he never listens. He devotes so much of his time to other people—taking care of housework so that Y/N can focus on her job, supporting Savannah’s education and extra-curricular activities, and volunteering in the community, even offering free guitar lessons to kids. Rarely does he make time for himself and his own hobbies.

Y/N now takes her breakfast over to the dining table and sits across from her daughter.

“The spring talent show is coming up,” announces Savannah.

Y/N’s face lights up. “Oh, fun! I love going to those.”

Savannah’s school hosts talent shows every spring and fall. Everything from singing and dancing to reading poems and doing magic tricks is permitted, as long as it’s been vetted by the show organizer, Ms. Lee. Savannah always sings; she has yet to miss a show.

“Which song are you performing this time?” asks Y/N.

“I’m not performing,” she mumbles, playing around with the last bit of cereal in her bowl.

“Aw, why not? I thought you loved performing.”

“Yeah... But Kayley told everyone she’s singing a song with her dad and Ms. Lee allowed it. Now the other kids are bringing their parents on stage too. I wanted Daddy to play guitar and sing with me, but he said no.”

Y/N gasps and turns to Harry. “What? Why?”

She can see him struggling to come up with an answer, eventually settling on, “I’ve never performed for a proper audience before.”

“Harry, it’s a school talent show. The audience is going to be kids.”

He scoffs. “Are you joking? The audience is always full of parents. Remember the last one we went to? Place was so packed with parents, they ran out of seats.”

She can’t argue with that. Savannah’s school is quite big for an elementary school. The auditorium can hold up to five hundred people, and it’s always at full capacity on the night of a talent show. Parents aren’t the only ones in attendance but also grandparents, aunts, and uncles, as well as teachers and other school staff. It’s a popular event.

“Okay, well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” says Y/N. “You have an amazing voice. So does Savvy. And the two of you together will blow everyone away.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “I dunno…” Turning to Savannah, he suggests, “Maybe you and your mum can do something instead.”

“Mom can’t even sing!”

Harry shoots her a disapproving look. “Savvy, that’s rude.”

Y/N chuckles. “I mean, she’s not wrong.”

“Well, your mum likes to dance, so maybe you can do a dance routine together.”

“But I don’t wanna dance!” Savannah protests, growing frustrated with her father’s deflections. “I wanna sing with you.”

He lets out a sigh, leaning his hip against the sink and crossing his arms, as he glances back and forth between his wife and daughter.

“Will you at least think it over?” asks Y/N. “Savvy, when’s the talent show?”

“It’s at the end of the month, but Ms. Lee said we have to prepare something by next Wednesday to show her.”

“That’s not very far away,” mutters Harry.

“Well, the sooner you make up your mind, the more time you’ll have to prepare,” says Y/N.

He narrows his eyes at her. She just smiles and bats her eyelashes at him.

“All right, all right,” he says finally, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I will think about it.”

Savannah squeals with glee.

***

It’s been a year and a half since Harry started teaching kids to play guitar. The first child he ever taught was a shy little boy named Jordi who was one class below Savannah. Harry knew Jordi’s mother from parent council meetings, and she sometimes asked him to watch her son for a couple hours after school until she got off work.

Whenever Jordi was over, Savannah would take out the little guitar that her parents had gifted her for Christmas and play with it, often strumming the same two chords over and over because that was all she knew. Jordi would watch on with an awestruck face. He would never utter a word, but Harry could tell that he wanted to try playing it himself.

It took some convincing, some lecturing about “sharing is caring” to get Savannah to lend her guitar to Jordi, but once he got his hands on that thing, he was hooked. Harry enjoyed teaching Jordi. In many ways, the boy reminded him of himself when he was younger.

Word got around on the school playground that Jordi learned to play guitar from Savannah’s dad, and suddenly, Harry had parents asking him if he would teach their kids as well. Not wanting to overwhelm himself, he took on only a small number of kids. Nowadays, he teaches four kids and sees each of them for a couple hours a week.

He doesn’t charge anything for the lessons, even though some parents insist on paying him. He doesn’t need the money. Y/N’s job rakes in so much that any amount he might make from the lessons would be a tiny drop in the bucket of their family income. He also knows that some of the kids he teaches come from low-income backgrounds, and it wouldn’t feel right charging their parents for lessons when they can hardly afford a babysitter.

The child he’s working with today is one of Savannah’s school friends, Jasmine. They finish around 6 p.m. when Maria, Jasmine’s mother, drops by to pick her up. Harry follows Jasmine out the front door to greet her mother on the porch.

“How was the lesson?” asks Maria.

“It was good. I learned to play a song,” replies Jasmine, clasping her hands behind her back and beaming up at her mother proudly.

“Wow! Already?”

“Yeah, she’s a pro,” says Harry, telling Jasmine, “We should have your mum sit in on the next one so you can show her how good you are.”

The girl eagerly nods in agreement. “Okay!”

Maria smiles and places a loving hand on Jasmine’s head. Then she says to Harry, “Hey, I heard you and Savannah are singing at the talent show together.”

His eyebrows lift up. He has yet to tell Savannah his decision about the talent show, but it seems she’s already been going around telling people that he’s performing with her.

“Oh, um… Yeah, I—I guess I am.” He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat. “How about you? Are you and Jasmine doing something together?”

“Hell no!” She gives a hearty laugh. “Can you imagine me getting up in front of all those people and putting on a performance?”

“Sure, why not? You seem like a talented lady.”

She snorts. “Even if that were true, I couldn’t do it. See, kids have an excuse. If they mess up, it’s like, ‘oh they’re kids, they’re adorable.’ But us adults? We don’t get excuses.” She shakes her head. “You’re brave.”

“Thanks,” he replies half-heartedly. He knows her words were meant to be a compliment, but all they do is make him even more terrified about the prospect of being on stage.

“Well, Jasmine and I should head home. See you next week, same time?”

“Yup. See you next week. Bye, Jasmine.” He smiles and waves at the little girl.

“Bye, Harry!” Jasmine waves back as her mom leads her down the driveway.

He heads back into the house and goes upstairs to Savannah’s room, which is down the hall from his and Y/N’s bedroom. As he approaches, he can hear Y/N helping Savannah with her math homework. Harry loathes math. Y/N doesn’t mind it. They have a mutual understanding that when it comes to math homework, Savannah is better off going to her mother first.

The door to her room is open. She sits cross-legged on her double bed with her math notebook open in front of her, a colourful feather-topped pencil gripped between her fingers. Y/N lies on her side across the bed, propped up on one elbow; she smiles at Harry as he enters. Savannah is engrossed in the question she’s working on, brow furrowed in concentration as she stares down at her notebook.

“Is the answer fourteen?” she asks her mother.

Y/N nods. “You got it.”

She scribbles her answer in the book.

“How’d the lesson go?” Y/N asks Harry.

“Went well,” he responds, standing next to the bed. “Had a chat with Jasmine’s mum just now. She was asking about the talent show. Apparently, a little birdie told her that Savvy and I performing together.”

Y/N acts surprised. “Oh! I wonder which little birdie told her that.”

Harry and Y/N both slowly turn to look at their daughter, who tilts her chin into her neck to avoid their gazes. Harry reaches out and starts tickling her sides, making her giggle hysterically.

“Was it you?” he asks.

“No!”

“Are you sure about that?”

Savannah topples over onto her side, squirming and snickering into the mattress as he continues tickling her until finally, she caves. “It was me! It was me!”

The tickling ceases. Some residual giggles escape her before she straightens up to look at her father with sugary sweet eyes that resemble her mother’s.

“I thought we agreed that I was going to think about it,” he says.

She huffs out a sigh. “It’s been two days, Dad. How much thinking can a person do?”

He and Y/N exchange amused looks.

“Well, you’re in luck,” he says, “because I had actually made up my mind and I was going to wait until dinner to tell you, but I suppose I’ll tell you now...” He pauses for dramatic effect, watching as Savannah holds her breath in anticipation. “I will sing with you at the talent show.”

“Woohoooo!” Savannah jumps to her feet on the bed and launches herself into her father’s arms. He catches her before she can plummet to the floor, stumbling backwards a little.

“Sav! Be careful,” Y/N scolds.

She wraps her arms and legs around him like a koala bear and kisses him on the cheek. “Best dad in the world!”

He chuckles and squeezes her tight before setting her back down on the bed. “Have you thought of what song you want to do?”

“Oh, oh, oh! Can we do the one we sang for Mom’s birthday?”

He thinks back to Y/N’s birthday a few months ago. He had just finished working on a new song that he named Sweet Creature. Knowing how much his wife relishes hearing him and Savannah sing together, he decided to surprise her with a father-daughter duet. Savannah has a remarkably sharp memory when it comes to music, so it didn’t take her long to learn the lyrics and melody.

“You mean Sweet Creature?” he asks.

“Yeah, that one!”

“Um… Are you sure you don’t want to do a Disney song or something?”

She shakes her head adamantly.

Singing in front of people is nerve-wracking enough on its own, but to sing an original song that no one has heard, except for Y/N and Savannah, will take those nerves to a whole other level.

“I think that’s a great idea, Savvy,” Y/N chimes in.

He gives her a slightly frustrated look.

She shrugs. “What? I think people deserve to hear your beautiful music. It’s actually a crime that you keep it hidden away from the world, you know?”

A little smile cracks through his frustration. “Okay, I suppose we can try that one and a few others and see what works.”

Despite how far out of his comfort zone this is, the excitement that appears on Savannah’s face, and even Y/N’s, every time they discuss the talent show makes his heart sing. It might be the only reason he hasn’t scrapped the idea altogether.

***

“But I don’t wanna do that song.”

Y/N stirs on the couch, pulled from her deep slumber by the sound of Savannah’s disgruntled voice coming from the den. It’s been an hour since she got home from work. Harry and Savannah have been rehearsing for the talent show all evening, so she decided to unwind by watching TV in the living room but fell asleep not even ten minutes into the show she was watching.

“Okay, then we’ll pick another one,” she hears Harry reply. “How about the one from that movie—”

“No! I wanna do your song,” insists Savannah.

“Well, we can’t always get what we want, Sav.” His dwindling patience is evident in his tone. He rarely speaks to their daughter so bluntly.

“But you promised!”

“I did not promise. I said we’d try out a few different songs and see what works.”

“You’re a liar!”

“Savvy, that’s not very ni—”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“Savannah, come back here plea—”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

She comes storming out of the den and over to Y/N. Perching herself on the edge of the couch, she crosses her arms over her chest, face set in a deep frown.

“What happened, Sav?” Y/N probes gently.

“Daddy promised we would sing his song for the talent show and now he says we can’t!”

“Baby, I’m sure he has a good reason.”

“Can’t you just tell him we have to sing it? He always does what you tell him.”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head sympathetically. “I can’t make your father do something he doesn’t want to do.”

“Yes, you can! You can make him do anything! He never says no to you. Only to me.” A sad pout forms on her lips.

“No, honey, I…”

Savannah’s eyes fill with tears. She stands up and scurries off upstairs.

Y/N has never seen herself as a pushy person. Although leadership comes naturally to her, allowing her to climb the corporate ladder with greater ease than most, she has never been the kind of leader that forces others to do things they’re not comfortable with. People, both in her personal life and work life, have commended her ability to push others to reach their full potential without being overbearing. However, Savannah’s words make her wonder if she might have pushed Harry too hard. A pit of guilt forms in her stomach.

Harry emerges from the den with a weary look on his face.

“Where’d she go?” he asks Y/N.

“Upstairs.”

He plops down on the couch next to her with a heavy sigh. She brings a hand to the back of his head, running her fingers through his soft curls.

“Savvy and I are having creative differences,” he states, earning an amused chuckle from Y/N. “She really wants to sing Sweet Creature. I feel like it’s too slow, maybe too mature for a school talent show. I wanted to try looking up some fun, upbeat songs, but she wasn’t having it.”

“It’s okay. Let her cool off for a bit. Then we’ll go and explain to her that you’re just not comfortable doing one of your songs.”

“It’s not that I’m not comfortable with it. I just don’t think it’s the right song choice.”

“H, you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not—” He groans and runs his hands down his face. “God, why does my family think I’m a liar?”

She places a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards her. “I don’t think you’re a liar. I just think somewhere deep down, you know that the real reason you don’t want to do this song isn’t because it’s too slow or too mature but because the thought of sharing your music with people scares you.”

His green eyes blink back at her. He shakes his head. “You always read me like a book.”

She smiles. “Look, I’m the one who talked you into this. You had already told Savannah no and she accepted your answer. And then I came butting in, pushing you to reconsider. And now, she thinks I can just wave a magic wand and make her father do whatever I want, even if he’s not comfortable with it, which is not exactly the kind of example I want to be setting for my daughter.” She sighs. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard.”

“It’s all right,” he replies. “I need the push sometimes, honestly.”

She tilts his face more towards her and kisses him softly on the lips. When they part, she catches movement on the stairs from the corner of her eye. She turns to find Savannah sitting on the second last step, staring at the two of them from behind the vertical posts of the bannister.

“I’m hungry,” the girl declares.

Harry glances at the clock above the fireplace. “Oh, it’s late. I should get started on dinner.”

“Why don’t we all cook together?” suggests Y/N.

“Are you sure you’re not too tired?” he asks.

“No, I’m good.” She rises to her feet. “I think it’ll be fun. What do you think, Savvy?”

“Um… okay.”

“Awesome!” Placing her hands on her hips, Y/N turns to Harry and says, “Well, Dad, you’re in charge. You tell us what to do and we will get it done.”

He gazes up at her, eyes glinting with affection and amusement.

“Okay?” she asks.

He nods. “Okay.”

The three of them head to the kitchen where Harry begins delegating tasks. Y/N decides to put on some music. Although Savannah stays closed-off for the first little while, clearly embarrassed about her earlier outburst, she slowly starts to warm up, unable to resist the cheery atmosphere created by the music and her parents’ corny jokes. Soon enough, she’s singing into a wooden spoon and being twirled around the kitchen by her father, while Y/N stays by the stove to make sure their dinner doesn’t burn.

Later that night, Harry and Savannah have a serious talk to sort out their “creative differences.” She apologizes for calling him a liar and storming off; he ultimately decides they should stick with Sweet Creature as their song. Y/N also speaks with Savannah to stress that her father is not a puppet who will do whatever he’s told without question, that he deserves the same respect that Savannah shows to her mother.

***

On the day of the talent show, Y/N dashes straight home from work, buzzing with excitement to see her two angels on stage tonight. They’re already dressed and ready to go by the time she gets home, so she quickly changes out of her work clothes and touches up her makeup before driving them all to the school.

Harry and Savannah head to the music room, where Ms. Lee had instructed all of tonight’s performers to gather. Meanwhile, Y/N joins the other attendees in the auditorium. It’s still early and people are slowly trickling in. A refreshments table has been set up at the back, serving coffee, juice, and baked goods. Y/N helps herself to a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin before finding a seat a few rows away from the stage.

The show consists of a variety of acts. A mother-daughter dancing duo, a father-son comedy skit, a grandfather-granddaughter magic act, and so much more. Y/N finally sees Kayley for the first time when she appears on stage to sing a piano ballad with her father. At the end of their performance, she thinks, “Savvy and Harry are gonna blow them out of the water.” It’s not a competition by any means, but that doesn’t stop her competitive side from coming out anyway.

Halfway through the show, her phone vibrates in her pocket with a text from Harry.

H: Can you come to the restrooms by the kindergarten classrooms? I need you.

Y/N: On my way

She stands and makes her way out of the auditorium, trying to cause as little disruption as possible. She finds Harry pacing back and forth in the hallway outside the restrooms. His outfit consists of a ringer tee with little strawberries printed all over it paired with bright green trousers. He matches with Savannah, who wore a strawberry-print skirt for tonight. His hair was perfectly styled when they left the house but now looks a bit ruffled, probably from nervously running his hands through it too much.

“Hi, honey,” she says. “Everything okay?”

He stops pacing to look at her. “No, I’m literally shitting my pants.”

A couple of older women were exiting the restroom right as he said that. They shoot him a disgusted glare.

His eyes widen, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry, I—I didn’t mean literally. I was just exaggera—”

Y/N grabs his hand and pulls him into one of the classrooms nearby so they can speak in private.

“Where’s Savannah?” she asks him.

“Backstage, waiting for our turn.” He runs a hand through his hair again. “She’s not nervous at all, Y/N. Our eight-year-old daughter isn’t nervous at all about getting up in front of all those people. Meanwhile, I, a grown man, am hiding out by the restrooms.” His words come out in a frantic half-whisper, topped with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. Just as he reaches up to mess with his hair again, Y/N takes his hands.

“H, it’s okay to be nervous,” she tells him softly. “Of course you’re nervous. You’ve never done this before. Getting on stage? Singing one of your own songs? That would terrify just about anyone. Not all of us can be natural-born stars like Savannah.”

“I don’t want my nerves to ruin this for her,” he admits. “That’s what I’m most afraid of. Making a fool of myself is one thing, but disappointing our daughter is another.”

Y/N smiles, overwhelmed with fondness for the man standing before her. “Harry, she’s already so happy that you’re even doing this with her. She’s going to love you regardless.”

He nods and takes a deep breath in, blowing it out through his mouth. Then he says, “She’s just like you, you know. She has your confidence.”

“Well, she has your talents.”

“Wonder where she got the stubbornness from,” he mutters with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“That would be you, obviously.”

His face contorts with disbelief. “Me?!”

“Indeed.” She walks out of the classroom with Harry following close behind.

He scoffs. “No way. It’s you and you know it.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

They “nope” and “yup” their way back to the auditorium. She reminds him once again that he’s an amazing father for agreeing to do this and gives him a kiss for good luck before they part ways.

Harry and Savannah’s performance happens towards the end of the show.

“Our next act of the night is a father-daughter duet,” Ms. Lee announces into the mic. “We have Savannah and Harry singing an original song called Sweet Creature.”

Everyone applauds as the duo makes their way on stage. Their mic stands are already set up a few feet apart, slightly angled towards each other. Harry walks over to the taller one, his acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. Savannah takes her place in front of the shorter mic. They look adorable in their matching outfits, their eyes sparkling under the stage lights. Y/N’s cheeks already hurt from smiling.

The two share a quick glance before Harry begins strumming his guitar. Soon, Savannah’s mellifluous voice fills the auditorium. She mostly sings the verses by herself, with Harry jumping in on every other line, his voice blending seamlessly with hers. The chorus—Y/N’s favourite part of the whole song—is sung together.

Ironically, Harry’s eyes find Y/N in the audience right as he sings, “We’re both stubborn, I know.” She flashes him a knowing grin. 

The end of their performance is met with thunderous applause filling the auditorium. Harry claps too, directly at Savannah, who returns the sweet gesture. The two of them take a bow before exiting the stage.

After the last few acts, the talent show draws to a close. People rise from their seats to mingle and compliment the performers on their work. Harry and Savannah make their way through the crowd to Y/N, who pulls them both into a loving embrace.

“You guys were amazing,” she praises. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

“Savannah! Savannah!” They hear Savannah’s friends beckoning her nearby.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells her parents before running over to her friends.

Y/N looks at Harry. “Well? How did that feel?”

He takes a deep breath, squinting his eyes a bit. “Terrifying… But good.”

“The single moms are going to be all over you after that performance.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s true. They’re actually on their way over here right now.” She glances over his shoulder.

“No, they’re not.”

“Yes, they are. In three… two… one…”

Right on cue, a group of three women appear from behind Harry, swarming around him like moths to a flame.

“Harry!” shouts one of them. “We didn’t know you could sing.” She places a hand on his arm.

“You and your daughter are the most adorable things I’ve ever seen,” says another.

“You’re so talented,” says the third.

“Thank you so much,” he replies sincerely.

“What song was that? I’ve never heard it before.”

“Oh, I wrote it.”

The women gasp and share shocked glances. “You wrote that?!”

Y/N tries not to laugh at their over-the-top reactions to everything he says. Instead, she decides to go talk to a few other parents while her husband basks in the glory of his newfound rockstar status.

A while later, she’s standing by the entrance to the auditorium, swiping through the pictures she took on her phone during the show, when she hears Harry whisper in her ear from behind, “Why’d you leave me alone with them?”

She turns to him, laughing at the annoyed expression on his face. “What do you mean? I was letting you have your moment. Kind of hard to soak in all that female attention with your wife standing right next to you, isn’t it?” She asks the question teasingly, curious to see how he’ll react. And as usual, his response reminds her of why she married him in the first place.

“I don’t want their attention,” he whines, squeezing her waist. “I want yours.”

“Aww.” She caresses his cheek and kisses him. “Well, maybe we should get out of here so you can have all my attention.”

His expression changes, the slightest hint of lust swimming in his green irises. “Okay, let’s find Savvy.”

“Oh, Jasmine’s mom let me know she’s taking them out for pizza. She’ll drop Savvy home after. So, yes, for the next couple hours, you have all of my attention,” she tells him, smirking.

The hint of lust turns into full-blown desire. Without another word, he starts pulling her towards the exit.

***

Thank you for reading! For more househusband!Harry and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[obesessedwithjohndory]

brozone hcs because the brainrot is real and i love them all so much mwah mwah (except they’re mostly about john dory because i just love him so much 😖)

john dory 100% calls the toilet a shitter (every time i think of this i giggle)

john dory is dyslexic and struggled to write songs for the band when he was younger and he didn’t stop until he finally had them down

they have karaoke parties at bruce & sons when it’s closed for the evening and it’s just the brothers

branch hates it when they fight

floyd & jd move to pop village, floyd moves into the bunker with branch and john dory stays in rhonda but is always near the bunker & he spends the night there sometimes

branch is closest to jd & floyd

branch’s second favourite brother is john dory but he refuses to admit it

bruce can rap

john dory has 100% definitely been arrested before

john dory knows the rasputin dance and will most definitely put on a show when it’s put on at parties

bruce listens to 50 dad music

john dory is lowkey scared of ghosts and hates it when branch tells ghost stories in the bunker when it’s dark in there

john dory is the father (figure) branch never had & he hates to admit it

the bros are feminists

for the first like 6 months on branch’s life jd was his favourite and he would only stop crying if he was in his hair/ if he was holding him

they’re really good at acapella

john dory cries watching the titanic

once a month they’ll all either stay in the bunker or vacay island and they have a family game night & it always gets really competitive (usually between jd and clay, bruce had to intervene before the board game gets snapped in two)

their mum was eaten before trollstice by a bergen that broke into the cage guarding the troll tree when branch was still an egg & their dad was a total d!ck so he didn’t really care, not long after he left jd to look after all his brothers and then like probably a week later branch hatched

speaking of their mum, jd was a total mummy’s boy idc

it wasn’t until branch was about four months old that they moved in with rosiepuff so she could help out

bruce was in a musical (iykyk)

john dory can play the guitar

clay reads before he goes to bed and won’t until he’s read at least 50 pages

bruce is the type of guy to tell everyone they can’t eat their food until he’s taken pictures of it if they’re at a restaurant that isn’t his. it always ends in bruce scolding them as they all get tired of waiting and start eating

clay has an insane amount of sweater rompers

floyd subconsciously sings to himself when he’s anxious- it’s something he picked up when in the diamond while velvet & veneer had him captive

the goggles & glove are a comfort thing for jd

clay can beatbox but he doesn’t like doing it because “it’s not serious”

john dory and branch are always in sync one way or another and they don’t even realise it half the time

jd really wants kids but is worried he’ll mess that family up just like he messed his family up when brozone broke up

SORRY FOR THE LACK OF CLAY & FLOYD 😣 i’m gonna come up with some more hcs not only for them but for jd and my oc rhea (i’ll have to write abt her bc i can’t draw for shit 💔)