#and I still can’t say that my boss won’t get sick because of her kid

[jencsi]

I've put up a good fight with this over the past 2 years, but my brain simply cannot get over the trauma of being so sick on Christmas Eve/Day 2022. It has consumed every aspect of my life since then. Every single odd feeling in my gut, every food that "tastes weird" every recall I read about, every time someone says they feel sick or confirm that they or their child is actually sick, sends me spiraling into a contamination OCD nightmare.

I was smart and careful with handwashing, food choices, avoiding restaurants, take out etc. I don't gather in groups much anyways even prior to the pandemic, the very limited family gatherings I do have during the year, are the ones I am trying to stay healthy for.

I requested Christmas Eve off last year and everything went smoothly but my anxiety was high. It triggered an IBS flare up and some issues during the party (I was starting my period early and didn't know it so I panicked and thought I had norovirus again) I barely survived that night.

For 2024, I requested December 20th-25th off so I could hole myself up at my home and avoid people and places so I could be illness free for the big family Christmas Eve gathering. Everything was going smoothly with this until my boss's kid contracted a stomach bug and was sick on Monday 12-16 through Wednesday 12-18. Despite having 0 contact with her prior to this, I have been spiraling ever since. I feared she would get sick next (she didn't) but it's only been 5 days. I worked with her for two and a half hours on Thursday 12-19 and I avoided her like the plague. I got to leave early and start my PTO. (I would not be spiraling so hard these last few days if it wasn’t for this event) Every day since then I have sat here stewing in my own anxiety, eating only "safe foods", making my last trip to a store on the 20th, refusing to eat any of the food my parents made out of fear of illness.

All of this has been incredibly draining and difficult to maintain. This is the worst PTO I have ever used. I can't even enjoy it. Trying to avoid the most contagious, most violent, distressing sickness has been a battle. And I'm still not 100% safe in my crazy OCD brain. Thinking back to 12-24-22 and how things were so good and how quickly they spiraled into madness, the acute timing of it, hour by hour, how fresh and vivid the memory of that night is, and how my health has not been the same since is adding to the stress and anxiety. You do not simply "get over" a stomach bug these days. You are never "out of the woods" no matter how many days have passed since you think you've been exposed. I would trade so much to have the life back that I had prior to this.

It is frustrating to watch everyone around me eat restaurant food, eat more food choices than I can without a care in the world in regards to their health.

I should love the holiday. My regular depression was getting better before health anxiety consumed me. I should not be living like this. As a society we need to do better at curbing the risk factor and spread factor for gastrointestinal illnesses, especially around the holidays. I would even go so far as to say this is worse than COVID I had twice. I would rather have that!

All of this, all of this to deal with, to be exhausted by daily. I feel like I have been running a marathon at the start of every year and the finish line (if I am lucky) is a sickness free holiday. In parallel, I feel as if my entire life has been leading up to Christmas Eve and Day and I could be doomed or I come out unscathed.

The unknown is the bitch of it.

[pigeonpeach]

Yandere Genshin

Prompt: youve caught their eye but… you’re already taken… that won’t be a problem…

Cw: yandere duh, mentions of murder and violence, manipulation, kidnapping, etc. fem reader

Characters: Jean, Diluc,Yelan, Neuvillete

Jean finds herself more and more infuriated with your commitment everyday. A simple hunter from Springvale is the one that catches your eye? How absurd! She knew she should’ve been more forward with her tatics. Oh this frustration and heartbreak has been tormenting her, impacting her work ethic as she tries to give you space. But its hard because you work for her. A cutesy little maid. You belong to her.. you’re everything she could want in a partner. So delicate, so plump, you’re the perfect bride. There’s no way she’s letting a man who can’t read s kid’s book without struggle surpass her!

So… she staged a little accident lets say.. she happened to cut the patrols in the area, making them closer to the city itself. That way there still was protection for the city… just not for the hunters. For awhile they’d been complaining sbout how the patrols spooked the boar. Even though those patrols were meant to cut down and discourage hilichurl camps. From a political perspective she just gave the hunters what they wanted. To up the anti more she had Kaeya tell him about a legendary boar deep into the wilderness. How the boars get bigger in hilichurl camps because they’ve started to fence them off and fatten them up, if he goes at night when they’re asleep, he could surely nail himself a big boar and pass it as a authentic catch…

The short of it was this. Your almost boyfriend snuck into one of the biggest hilichurl camps without the knights patroling nearby. And Kaeya knowing Jean’s work was negatively impacted by him.. may or may not have done something to alert the hilichurls to the the intruder. Quickly he was overwhelmed and beaten. With no knight in sight he was all alone. His struggle only made the hilichurls more violent. They threw him out, beaten to a pulp. When he saw Kaeya he was relieved thinking he was saved. But Kaeya had orders to finish the job of need be.

His death? A accident. Later hunters found him rotting near the camp, no foul play found. No one knew of his idea or who gave it to him, or who gave that person the idea. In your devastation you ended up right in her arms weeping.

“I am so sorry for your loss. I’ll make sure patrols return to normal and those camps are wiped out soon enough. I won’t let you experience such hardship ever again.” Crying to your boss felt so unprofessional but Jean was just so comforting to you. You had been putting on a brave face until now. You stood as she held you. “Lisa bought me this tea recently. It helps to steady my mind when I’m stressed, would you like me to give you some. I know it won’t remove your pain but it should help you somewhat. Unfortunately I can’t give you time off as two others are currently sick. But once they’re back I’ll give you some vacation okay?” She wiped your tears as you nodded.

“Th-that’s reasonable.. th-thank you.. oh god i must be such a burden. You’re already so stressed i didn’t mean to make it worse for you-“

“That’s not the case at all. I care about you. I want you to be safe and happy as every citizen in Mondstadt should be.” She kissed your forehead as she handed you the cup she prepared. “Here drink some tea. It was originally for me but I figure you need it more. I haven’t dranken from it.”

“Y-you’re sure that’s okay? I don’t mind waiting for another cup.” You asked. Oh how innocent you looked. Jean hated how she had to come to this, asking Lisa for a love spell to be put into the tea. But she couldn’t risk doing this to every suitor who got close to success. She needed to make sure you chose her otherwise she might go further next time.

“Its fine.” She said. You drank it with no further complaints.

Diluc was certain this was some sick prank. You, his beloved little maid, in love with nothing more than a simple merchant? Its not uncommon for the route from dawn winery to be used. But a certain merchant he purchased seeds from seemed to be getting far too close to you. Sure you two weren’t dating, he hadn’t even made the first step. But now he was absolutely was going to take drastic measures.

The first step: Distract you. You found yourself being assigned to chores more indoors an less outdoors. Diluc could sense how you would look out beyond hoping to see him again and he didn’t want that to continue. The second step was to lure said merchant back on a day you weren’t working. His arrival was horrible as the maids had all gone home leaving Diluc and Adelinde to recieve him, on a new moon, there was no moon to illuminate his path home so Diluc offered him to stay the night. He thought of this gratefully, originally the death Diluc planned was a simple killed in his sleep. But when he asked about you… oh it activated something in him. He even brought you a gift… how thoughtful… Diluc struggled to maintain his composure.

The merchant never did make it past the night. Despite his struggles. His body found beneath the bridge near Stone Gate. A investigation launched but ultimately blamed on bandits. With it his gift was smashed. You were devastated yes but your employer seemed to suddenly be more attentive than usual. He offered you meals and tea. Often requesting just to talk to you.

“Its getting late. I really should be going.” You set the tea cup back. “This was nice though. I wouldn’t mind doing this again but… oh.. is it raining?” You look out to see water coating the windows as what sounding like rain came from outside.

“Oh my it appears to be. At this hour you would be most vulnerable if you left now. You have no pets correct?”

“No.. oh dear…” you silently began to worry.

“You could always.. stay over. There is many a guest room and there’s spare pajamas for you. I’m certain it’ll be better than getting sick. Besides there’s bandits on the roads at these hours. You remember what happened to that merchant.” His voice luring you to s false sense of safety.

“Yes… I’ve been quite nervous going home now to be honest. Do you know if they ever found who did it?”

“Still nothing. Guards are posted more though. But it wpuld be easier. You do have a early shift here anyways in the morning so you wouldn’t need to go home right away. If that sounds alright.” He says, you jolted slightly as his hand gently grazed yours as you held your jacket. At that moment thunder clapped, startling you.

“I suppose that makes sene. I’ll take you up on that offer then..” you smiled shyly.

“I’ll lead you to your room then.”

He wasn’t going to let you leave.

(A/n: this is a alternative route to my other work Yelan vs Pantalone, dont consider this cannon to that piece but as its own spinoff)

Everyone has secrets. And Yelan’s is the fact that she stole a bride straight from Pantalone. It was mostly just to spite him, and also because she’s a sucker for a pretty face and couldn’t stand letting that happen. But oh they’re far more irresistible than she could’ve imagined. Now that they’re safely hidden in the jade chamber, working as a intern. She’s been visiting them when she comes to visit Ninguang, lucky her that Ninguang would allow her little damsel to stay in the jade chamber. But while her back was turned to her former life, she set her eyes on the people once known as parents to them. Her little Damsel cannot return to her former identity ever. And thus its better for her to believe that Pantalone went back on his word and killed them.

And that’s exactly what ended up happening. The Fatui’s search was halted and stopped because the Millieth wasn’t going to let the Fatui kill civilians just because they lost a bride. Even though they insisted they didn’t all signs pointed to that. She then forged documents to show to her beloved little damsel that this was the plan from the beginning, that Pantalone would have killed her parents upon acquiring her. Like the others so far, she used this opportunity to soothe them and bring them closer. At least this way they are alive and safe rather than in the hands of their families killer. Only… they are infact in the arms of their families killer. All seemed well until some stupid guard started poking around. He seemed more interested in courting them, believing they myst secretly be from s powerful family outside of Liyue and hiding. It was a rumor she purposely started to cover for their true identity. But now it backfired as this man saw a opportunity to climb up the social ladder. She isn’t quite sure what his exact plan was but her guess was he intended to make her fall for him and then marry him when she returned to her life, this guaranteeing a life of luxury. Unfortunately for him that won’t be the case. But Yelan can’t go killing her own. So she decided to simply use her influence to have him demoted to ground work instead. Convincing Ningguang that if allowed to stay he’ll uncover their scheme. The reason given to him was that apparently he was too loud or social than was acceptable in such environments. Afterwards he died to a hilichurl raid. Whoops.

“You.. you got my stuff?” You were surprised when she came to you with a crate.

“Yes, since legally you’re dead, your parents stuff was sold at auction at request of your family members. I grabbed what I remembered you valued myself.” She said with s smile as you beamed at the sight of your old things.

“It won’t raise suspicions will it?” Yu asked.

“I won’t let it. Don’t worry your pretty little head about the details.” She said patting you.

“I-i don’t know what I could do to repay you. You’ve done so much for me i-i truly have never had someone like you in my life.” You looked at her expecting a sort of humble brush off or something to actually be named.

“A date would be nice. Once everything cools down of course.” Her voice was like a purr, making you flustered.

“O-oh sure.. as long as it won’t cause you any trouble.”

“Perfect.” She said. You didn’t see it but she was considering drugging your tea that sat on the table behind her. A love potion, how typical but how effective. But seeing your blush she could tell you had infact fallen for her already. Which made the potion more of a backup if you ever lost feelings.

Neuvillete is anything but dishonest. But… seeing you cling to the arm of a guard, how happy you two looked.. it left him green with envy and red with wrath. To control himself he decided to simply change the guards routine to be out of your way. But you just went to meet them after work. His favorite little employee falling for the guard rather than him.. he felt deeply insulted.

Time for more drastic measures. He asks a favor from the clueless and happy Sedene (a simple melusine) to sneak into his house. To which she happens to find something. Just as planned he spends his time arranging scenarios to increase suspicion causing the other guards perform a check up right as he is planted with primordial sea water. He is quickly taken away to be questioned. Meanwhile you are distraught. You never thought him capable of such feats. But alas he was hardly the man you thought he was.

“I-I’m so sorry.. i truly didn’t know anything… i- Oh god ll this time..” you were hyperventilating as you were brought into questioning. “I-i.. oh god.. am i in danger? I could’ve ended up just like those missing girls..” Neuvillette’s hands reached out to your space as if to tell you to quiet down.

“I understand this situation is difficult. If necessary I’ll give you a moment to compose yourself. There isn’t any reason I have to suspect you but I still have to take precautions. You agreed to the random house search and no trace of seawater was found. I’m simply asking if he told you of anything suspicious or gave you any implications of his true nature.” He lowered his voice in a more gentle manner than he would in court. You sniffled as you wiped your tears.

“He.. he did keep inviting me to his place. I never went though. I didn’t think we were far along to do such things.. you know like… intimacy..” you nervously muttered. He still heard you, he was pleased to know you two didn’t get too serious.

“Were you two officially a couple?”

“No.. but we were close… i was going to ask him but then this all happened and… you know the story from there.”

“Hmm.. I see. It appears you infact were a target. Is there any reason you can think of?” He says. The sight of you so heartbroken and shaking is strangely attractive to him. So timid, so easily manipulated.

“No.. no not at all.. i don’t understand why?” You seemed more and more frightened. “S-should i not leave the house for a bit. This sounds very scary.. i don’t know if I can continue my routine as normal like this!” You whimpered as your hands seemed to get closer to your body. As if you retreating into she’ll to hide in.

“Fear not, I’ll have the secret patrol watch over. And each guard will undergo inspections from here onward. But i will be seeing you more. I want at least weekly updates to know of any strange activities or unexpected changes. Understand?” He said. You nodded. “With my life, I promise you, you will be safe. And I will let no harm come to you.. ever.”

[zipzapzopzoop]

There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow

Chapter 38: It's all Relative

(I want to thank everyone so much for their patience with me. This chapter was so difficult to write due to being more dialogue heavy and not as action oriented, but I've finally got it!)

When Billie woke up, everything was silent. 

It had to have been the middle of the night (not that there was a way to tell time down here). There were no business shoes clacking on tile floors or low voices speaking over radios, phones, or intercoms. Everything was still… she couldn’t tell if it made her feel peaceful or anxious.

She sat up and blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Gaston and Lucille were still fast asleep. Speaking of Gaston, he was looking much better already. He had his color back, and he had finally stopped shaking. Billie turned around to glance outside the cell.

She nearly screamed.

In the darkness, the large silhouette of the Boss stood outside the cell. He observed the trio silently.

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

Cornelius was adding the last few features to the ladyb0t. 

He used a magnifying glass to look closely as he used a screwdriver to put the teeny panels back into place. If all went according to plan, it would be able to climb into computers and monitors to hack or destroy them.

“All done,” he spoke quietly after ensuring everything was as it should be.

The little bug struggled to flip off its back for a moment, until Cornelius carefully used the screwdriver to flip it onto its belly. It looked up at him with raised antennae. The little bug had been his only companion ever since he ended up here.

Strange how this one little thing helped him not feel so alone. He blinked away a tear. 

He missed his family.

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

In a flash, Bud pulled his wife to stand behind him and held out a cautious hand.

“Hey now, we don’t want any trouble with you!” 

Laszlo stumbled backward but caught himself.

“I-it’s okay!” He stuttered. “I don’t want any either! I swear! My sister has an infected wound and she’s really sick-”

“Shouldn’t you take her to a doctor?”

“We can’t! They’ll find us!” “Who?!”

“These people- okay, okay let’s just start over-” Laszlo put his hands up to calm everyone, but spoke quickly.

“Okay. My family and I are hiding in your home-”

“Family? How many are there?!”

“Don’t worry I’ll get there-”

“You didn’t answer the question, son. Who are you hiding from?”

“Some kind of officers? They might be spies, I’m not sure. They’re hunting down my family and I because we’re from the future. I promise, we don’t want any trouble! We’re just trying to hide until we can get home!”

The two just stared at him with wide eyes. 

Slowly, Bud leaned over to Lucille. “Honey, you might want to call someone… I think he’s sick in the head…”

Lucille picked up the house phone from its stand, looking at Laszlo sympathetically. 

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You stay right there, we’re gonna have someone come get you and they’ll take good care of you and your sister…”

“No!” Laszlo nearly panicked. “Please! They’re after us! I don’t know who they are, but they’re terrible people who want to hurt my family! I’m not sick!”

There was no way to explain this without sounding crazy. He didn’t care if the rest of the world saw him as crazy. He just needed them to listen…

“Look, you don’t have to believe me. We can go somewhere else, but please don’t tell them we’re here. Please. My sister won’t survive… not in the state she’s in…”

Bud looked confused, but Lucille looked concerned. She put the phone down, slowly reaching over her husband’s shoulder to lower his arm as well. “Honey… he’s just a kid. He needs help.”

Bud thought for a moment. He hummed and whispered something back to her. The two seemed to talk quietly amongst themselves, debating their next course of action.

Laszlo watched them nervously, his eyes warily shifting between the two of them behind his goggles. He fidgeted with his shirt or with his hands, anxiously awaiting to hear what they had to say. He still needed to get Tallulah help, but if he bolted, he knew they’d alert authorities. Not that he can blame them…

Lucille noticed the way the strange boy couldn’t seem to hold still, very much like the way her husband or his brother Fritz did. Lewis, meanwhile, was more relaxed. Until he had an idea, that is. Once he had a project, there was no stopping him. 

She got an idea.

“You said you were from the future. Is there any way you can prove it?”

Laszlo glanced at the door to the lab and back to her.

“I can. Just… wait here. I’m coming right back.”

They didn’t have time to protest before he disappeared into the lab. Bud and Lucille exchanged a confused glance. Suddenly, they could hear distant hushed voices from upstairs. 

“You told them?! Why would you tell them?!” “They spotted me! I didn’t have a choice.”

“I forot to ut mh teef in-”

The double doors pushed back open and the young man stood silently. He stepped aside, and the married couple gasped at seeing an elderly, toothless Bud Robinson standing in the doorway without a care in the world. Laszlo glanced at Bud, did a double take, and realized the other figure was hiding behind him. “Dad-” He moved the other man - one older middle aged Fritz Robinson - to stand next to his brother.

Bud - the younger one - and Lucille stood speechless. The red haired boy really was telling the truth.

“Ah, and who’s this handsome devil?” Grandpa Bud teased, admiring his younger self. Younger Bud shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand... How is this possible?

“Our son is a real special kid,” Grandpa Bud replied with a wink.

Lucille was over the moon, ecstatically going from person to person to look them over (much to Fritz’s unease). “Your family…” Lucille murmured, remembering Laszlo's words. “If your family is our family… who are you?”

“I’m your nephew. Fritz’s son.” Laszlo beamed, relieved they were reacting positively to such a bizarre situation.

“Fritz’s son… You have a son!” She looked wide eyed at Fritz, who only chuckled timidly. She turned and smiled at Laszlo again. “And you said you had a sister, too?”

Laszlo suddenly remembered. He froze. Tallulah. 

Lucille saw his expression change. 

“Where’s your sister, hun?”

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

Check out the chapter on my Archive!

[sorry-moots]

Inversion of Genesis But I Changed It

this one's really short whoops characters featured: scaramouche cws: mentions of death, scara is a little mean but what's new wc: 569

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Chapter Six

Only a few days remain before your scheduled departure. You’ve tried not to think too hard about it, but as the date gets closer, you’re forced to pack and make preparations for the time you’ll be gone. Curiously, among these preparations is helping Scaramouche pack his things. It’s hardly fair, but you can’t complain. He is your boss, after all.

It’s been hours since you made it to his estate and you’re only halfway finished with the inventory he told you to make of his belongings. You would have certainly met your demise by now, were it not for Yvette’s baking. Her scones are a godsend.

You’re combing through one of his many chests when your fingers brush against a loose cord. Without thinking, you pull it out, ready to put the necklace in the chest with his other accessories. As you tug on it, you’re met with resistance and you dig through until you find a feather-shaped pendant made of gold on the end.

It’s mesmerizing, but you call out to Scaramouche anyway. “My Lord? What's this?”

He looks up from his newspaper. “What's what? Oh, that,” he says, his lips curling in distaste. “My creator gave it to me as a ‘proof of identity’ before casting me aside.”

You don’t say anything, but from the way you’re eyeing the gold ornament, he can tell you’re curious. With an exasperated sigh, he starts telling you about all the people who betrayed him. His creator, who decided he was too emotional to be of use. His mentor, who sacrificed himself but still doomed their entire village. His best friend, who was poisoned by the Tatarigami.

“Was that last one really a betrayal, though? The kid died of sickness.”

“That is beside the point.”

“Regardless, I won’t abandon you like everyone else did.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed.

“No, I mean it,” you emphasized. “I won’t make you a promise because I’ll jinx myself, but if in a year you realize that I’ve stuck by you, you’ll have to take me seriously. And give me a raise!”

Per usual, he rolls his eyes. “Finish packing my stuff.”

*****

It’s time to bid Apollo farewell. You can’t take him with you, however badly you want to. He had brought you far, but this was one journey he wouldn't be making.

Not wanting to burden him, you packed relatively lightly. Your small luggage couldn't fit all of the creature comforts you normally indulge in, but you did bring some tea, your crafts, and a couple books for the trip overseas.

It takes you a good while to say your goodbyes. You stare into the eyes of the gentle beast, finding it hard to keep your mouth from turning downwards. You scratch between his ears and under his chin. Tears prick your eyes as he eats sugar cubes out of your palm.

“Are you done crying?” Scaramouche mocks.

His callousness is convincing but Pierre and his coworkers all share a look. The harbinger had just paid them extra to keep Apollo happy and healthy while you’re in Sumeru.

“You’re not actually crying are you?” he asks, incredulously “Pathetic.”

“Sorry for the display of emotion, sir,” you apologize as you hurriedly wipe your tears.

Finally, you turn around and face a whole other kind of monster. A beast made to weather tsunamis and thunderstorms. From the ship comes a shout:

“All aboard who’s coming aboard!”

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tag(s): @lacunaanonymoused

[queeniecook]

June 12

Since the other night – Denise and Jillian Ambrose had kept quite on their plans for Garrett from him. Jillian had called Dakota and Joey, asking if they could come to San Sequoia for an intervention for her Dad. Unfortunately Dakota is set to be deployed to Hidden Springs today which Jillian understands. Thankfully Joey is able to come to provide guidance.

Andrew has been told what is going on and decided he wanted to go spend time at a friend’s house instead. Jillian thinks it would be good for Andrew to be there during the intervention but he’s almost eighteen and capable for making his own choices.

The mother and daughter duo, along with Joey, wait for Garrett to return home from work. The moment Garrett walks in the door, he knows something is up because of everyone’s faces and the fact that Dakota’s brother is in the house, a fuzzy memory hits him of seeing Joey in a bar .

Denise is joined on the couch by her husband, she feels nervous and sick to her stomach. She doesn’t want to do this but knows she has to.

“Denny?” Garrett asks softly. He has a good idea what this is all about. After his daughter had to literally support him so he could get into his own house and he yelled at her, he’s starting to see he has a problem. 

Denise finally looks over at her husband “I love you very much. We’ve been together since our senior year of high school and I can’t picture my life without you.” she begins, glancing over at Jillian, who is seated in the chair across from them. Joey is pretending not to listen while looking at a tree frog that the family has. “That’s why I can’t let this go on any longer. Honey, you need help. Coming home drunk….climbing in bed with our teenage son, mistaking him for me…yelling at our kids when they haven’t misbehaved…it’s not you.”

Garrett, despite his love for his family feels a bit attacked though he isn’t being attacked. He hears Joey step closer. “The thing with Andrew with an accident, it was dark and I wasn’t used to that house yet. I didn’t do anything inappropriate to him.” He defends himself.

“He knows that and I know you didn’t do anything either.” Denise assures him, Joey warned her if Garrett feels attacked he may refuse help. 

Garrett relaxes slightly “I do feel bad for yelling at you, Jillian. I’m sorry.” He says to his daughter, looking over at her. Jillian slightly nods but remains quiet. This is Denise’s time to speak. 

“I’ve arranged for you to stay at a rehab center in Granite Falls for a month, longer if needed.” Denise starts.

“I can’t do that, what about my job?” Garrett asks her. How will the bills get paid? They aren’t rich people and himself and Jillian are the only ones bringing in any money currently. 

“I spoke with your boss, your spot is safe until you return.” Denise tells her husband, the money situation is a worry for her as well. 

“We still can’t pay our monthly bills on what Jillian earns at the bookstore.” Garrett counters. He doesn’t want to go away and go through rehab but he is legitimately worried about leaving his family to fend for themselves.

“I know and that’s why I’m going back to work.” She knows Garrett won’t care for the idea. Denise hasn’t worked since she was pregnant with Jillian. 

“But I promised you that you would get to be a stay-at-home Mom once our first child was born…” Garrett objects brokenly, the weight of his actions starting to weigh down on him.

Denise moves off the couch and kneels before her husband of twenty plus years, cradling his face in her hand. “Honey, I’m fine with it. I got my undergraduate degree in business and hardly used it. It’ll be kind of nice to put it to use, to be honest.” She tells him, brushing a tear away from his cheek. “The most important thing is that you get the help you need and come back to us.”

Garrett stares at his wife, feeling some of his resistance slip away. He knows he needs to do something about his drinking. Not only for his family but for himself. His behavior lately is not who he is as a person. He doesn’t like who he sees when he looks in the mirror anymore which makes him want to drink even more.

Garrett stands and hugs his wife tightly as she places a kiss on his forehead. “I’m going to make a few more calls while you talk with our daughter.” She whispers before releasing him.

“Jilly Bean….I’m so sorry…” Garrett tells her, she seems more closed off to him than his wife. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other night, you were just trying to help me.”

Jillian nods, trying not to cry. “Are you going to rehab?” She asks softly. 

“Yes. I’m going. I need to, for all our sakes.” Garrett tells her sincerely. He wants to hug his daughter but she seems like she wouldn’t have it at the moment. 

“I do love you, Dad. It’s just…hard. For more than one reason…” Jillian trails off as Garrett slowly steps closer to her. Joey stepped outside with Denise after he felt Garrett wasn’t going to flee or blow up on someone. 

“I love you too.” Garrett assures her, which makes Jillian burst into tears.

Even though she may push him away, Garrett places his hand on his first borns’ back and starts rubbing it like he did when she was little and would have nightmares about witches and warlocks.

“Dad…I think I might be pregnant.” Jillian admits through sobs. She hadn’t planned to tell him, worried it might be too much for him right now but she felt she needs to tell someone. 

Garrett almost falls over once he realizes what Jillian just told him, but he remains steady and keeps rubbing her back. This news has motivated him even more. He may have a possible grandchild on the way and he’s not going to stand in the way of himself being around for it.

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

game over

in the final chapter of my post-bad end timeskip, Kel and Aubrey talk things out. Spoilers for abandon end/knife end.

They wind up on the swingset at Faraway Park, because of course they do. It’s not like Aubrey went all scorched-earth on her old life specifically to get away from places like this.

Kel’s knee bounces in place, kicking up sand. “So… where’ve you been? Did you transfer schools or something?”

Aubrey winces. Right. Yeah. Of course he’d ask that.

She thought she might feel proud, if she ever got the chance to tell someone about how she left her old life behind her. How she broke free from the shackles of societal expectations and forged her own path. But she can’t help feeling a little embarrassed as she mutters, “Uh. No. I guess I sorta dropped out.”

“Wh–What?? Really???”

“Tch. Not that it’s any of your business, but. Yeah.”

Kel’s eyes go round with horror. “But— But you’re so much smarter than me!! You’re actually good at school!!”

“That’s got nothing to do with it.” Aubrey didn’t disappear to get away from school. She disappeared to get away from the people she saw there.

Her friends… Her former friends, the Hooligans. She’d wanted to give them a family. But she fucked it up. Because the problem wasn’t Aubrey’s friends. It was Aubrey.

Only one person ever got to hear how Aubrey really felt about Basil, and that’s Kim. Not that Aubrey told the whole stupid sob story, but. Kim knew that Aubrey felt… abandoned. Betrayed. Not just angry, but hurt.

And from that day on, Kim was sort of bizarrely gung-ho about hurting Basil back.

She didn’t even have a real reason. Apparently, she didn’t need one. ‘You don’t gotta explain yourself to me, Aubrey! I trust you!!’ But she shouldn’t. No one should.

(Basil used to trust Aubrey, too.)

Trusting Aubrey is the first mistake that set the whole cascade in motion. It’s a steep slide into a shallow grave. A trust-fall into a fucking lake. And Basil can’t even fucking swim.

Even after what happened, all Kim cared about was Aubrey. Ohh, Aubrey, how are YOU feeling? Are YOU upset? Do YOU feel responsible? You have to know that none of this was YOUR fault!!! Like Basil dying didn’t even matter. Like Kim had never stopped to wonder if it was partly her fault, too. Aubrey couldn’t stand to look at her. It made her feel sick.

“My fr— The kids I used to hang with,” she says dully. “I wanted to—save them, I guess. Like—” Her throat closes.

“Mari,” Kel says, understanding.

It still hurts. By now, Aubrey knows it never won’t. “But. I’m not Mari, so. I just made them worse.”

She grits her teeth and waits for Kel to say something encouraging and meaningless. Aw, c’mon, Aubs, what’d’you mean? You’re great, they’re great… What’s the problem! But he just frowns.

“...I don’t think that’s true.”

She rounds on him, teeth bared. “Did you not see what we did to Basil?” Meaning: what she made them do to Basil. How they’d trusted her, and how she repaid that trust by teaching them to be cruel.

She’s expecting Kel to fire back at her. To take the bait, like he always has, and give her someone else to hurt for a change. But he doesn’t. He just says, quietly, “I didn’t forget.”

The fight goes out of her. “Whatever," she spits. "You wouldn’t understand.” Kel has always had a family. He’s always known that he was loved. He never had to wonder if he was only ever going to make everything worse.

But to her surprise, he doesn’t argue with that, either. He just chews his lip and gives her an unhappy smile. “Sorry. I guess I just mean… When we were kids, and it was Mari looking after us… We didn’t always play nice, either. Remember how much Sunny used to boss Basil around?”

Aubrey can’t help it. She snickers. “Only ‘cause he liked it.” Basil was always so eager to be of use. Just asking to borrow a pencil could make his whole week.

“Pffft. Maybe. Okay, but what about that time I wanted to play tug-of-war, and you wanted to play The Floor Is Lava?”

“Hah!!” She’d completely forgotten about that. “Oh my god. And we fought for so long that Basil got all upset, and insisted we had to compromise, or else he was going to cry.”

“But we still couldn’t agree, so finally Sunny stood up and— Ahaha!!! Sunny stood up like, Guys. I solved it. We can do both. The rest of us all, Wow, well, if Sunny says so, it MUST be true.” When he closes his eyes, he can almost see it. Sunny was so cute at that age, like a grumpy little cat. But still a total tyrant. No room for fears or doubts or stupid questions.

“And when—” Aubrey can barely get the words out. “Oh my god… When we finally set up the rope suspension across the jungle gym, we—”

“—you yanked Basil off the Big Yellow Cat, but—”

“—but he’d!! He’d got the rope hooked around his ankle, so he got stuck like that; but it was all jammed in the planks, so he couldn’t get down, either!!”

Kel wheezes. “Hah!!! Ahaha, oh my god. Basil was hanging there for hours.”

“Upside down! Like a wind chime! And he kept trying to tell us, Ohh, please don’t worry, I’m totally fine!”

“Sunny had to cut him loose with a bread knife,” Kel chortles. “And when we finally got him down, he was like. He was like—You guys. This has really brought us—”

“—brought us all closer!!!!”

Kel cackles. “You kept trying to check his pulse, and the whole time Sunny’s just standing there like, Yes. This was the plan all along. I hope you guys are grateful.”

“Pfffwww,” she sputters. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or maybe it’s just she hasn’t talked to anyone outside of a customer-service setting in at least six months. But Aubrey is pretty sure this is the funniest thing she’s heard in her life. Fucking hell, they were so fucking stupid. How Mari kept them alive all those years, she'll never know.

There’s a sound like a dog trying to throw up, a rhythmic sort of glrrk–hrrk. Aubrey looks up in surprise. She’s never heard Kel laugh like that.

—Because it wasn’t a laugh. Kel is crying. When’s the last time she saw Kel cry? It’s… weird. And sort of unnerving. It makes him look—not himself.

“W-Woah.”

“Sorry,” he chokes out, shaking his head fast. “Sorry, I’m totally fine, this is just. Something that’s happening, haha. It is totally all good, s-sorry, I’m just. Really really tired.”

She glowers at him. “It’s obviously not all good.”

“Haha. Yeah. I guess not.” He hunches forward, resting his elbows at his knees and staring at the sand between his feet. “I just, um. Miss him so bad. Haha. Isn’t that stupid? We didn’t see the guy for four years, and I still can’t stop seeing him.”

Aubrey winces. That hits a little too close to home.

“I just… I really had myself convinced that I was helping him, you know?” Kel asks, a little dreamily. “Forcing him out of his comfort zone, and dragging him all over town and stuff. But I never even asked if he wanted to be there. I was just being pushy ‘cause I—wanted him back, I guess. But I pushed him too hard, and now I'll really never see him again.” He forces a painful-looking smile. “I was so sure I was helping, but… I was just doing what I wanted. The whole time, it was just— It was all just for me. He probably didn’t even wanna be there.”

“Hey. Come on.” Aubrey was being an asshole that week, but she still had eyes. She saw how they were together. Sure, Sunny wasn’t talking, but he could barely tear his eyes off of Kel. It pissed her the fuck off, at the time. But that doesn’t make it any less true.

Sunny was carrying that stupid knife around, but he didn’t even raise it till Aubrey took a swing at Kel. She whipped her bat into Kel’s ribs and Sunny’s eyes went dark. And in the church, when a splinter from her bat scraped a slash across Kel’s bicep… Sunny tugged on his elbow and made Kel hold out his arm for first aid. He still didn’t speak, but a blind man could see how tenderly he stretched that bandaid over the wound. With heartbreaking gentleness. Like Kel was—something precious.

But she doesn’t know how to say that.

She settles for, “Don’t be fuckin stupid. Anyway, we both know Sunny never did anything he didn’t wanna do.”

Kel snorts, then sobers. “Hah. Yeah. Maybe. I dunno. I don’t know what to think, honestly.”

She looks sideways at him. Kel looks… bad. Unexpectedly so. He’s skinnier than the last time she saw him, washed-out and sort of gray around the eyes. Which strikes her as a little unfair. Kel didn’t even kill anyone.

She knows she’s being a little petty when she mutters, “At least your hands are clean.”

“Hah. I mean. Are they?”

“Are you fucking joking?”

Kel gives her a bleak look. No. He is obviously not fucking joking.

Aubrey bristles. “Christ, you piss me off sometimes. You didn’t fucking kill anyone, you dumb fuck. You did everything you could to save Sunny. I did everything I could to—fucking—drive Basil into the fucking ground.”

“I mean….. I dunno. You were shitty to Basil for ages, and he was still mostly okay. Everyone was okay till I dragged Sunny out.”

“You think Sunny was okay in there?” she snarls. There's something satisfying about pointing her frustration at someone else, for a change. “Fucking, really? Did he look okay to you? And Basil… For fuck’s sake. Basil hadn’t been okay in years.”

“But—”

“Sunny was already dying. You tried to stop him! It wasn’t enough! It fucking sucks, but that doesn’t make it your fault. You think you’d feel any better if you didn’t even try? If you had to find out about it later, after he was already a stranger?”

“Huh,” Kel says numbly. He’s never really thought about it. “Huh. Yeah. I mean… Maybe. But you know it’s the same for you, right?”

“Like hell.”

“I’m serious!! I know you and Basil were kinda fighting—”

Aubrey barks a laugh. Yeah, that’s one way to put it.

“—but I just really don’t think that’s why he did it.”

…Fine. She’ll bite. “And why the fuck not?”

“I don’t know. I think—” Kel hesitates. She can see the gears turning in his mind, stiff and rusted from disuse. “I guess I think there was something going on between them. Basil and Sunny. They seemed… weird around each other.”

“Weirder than running around slashing people with knives?”

“Yeah, actually.”

Oh. Huh. Aubrey wasn’t expecting that.

Kel shrugs. “I didn’t say anything, ‘cause I didn’t wanna make him feel weird. I mean. I’m sure it was hard enough, coming out after all that time, so. I guess I figured he’d wanna feel normal? But, yeah. They were—weird. About each other. Sort of… intense? Like they were having a whole conversation with just their eyes. But, uh. Not a good conversation.”

She gives Kel another slow, suspicious once-over. She wants to accuse him of bullshitting her, but he just obviously isn’t. It’s easy to see how uncomfortable it makes him, talking about this stuff. That’s why he always dodged these conversations before. (Which is annoying in itself. Aubrey can’t decide if she appreciates it, or if it just pisses her off more to see him finally making the effort, five years too late.)

“...But that’s normal for them, right?” she points out. “They were always kind of weird about each other.”

“Not like this,” Kel says right away. “I asked Basil to hang out all three days, did you know that? He just kept saying no. To hanging out with Sunny! Have you ever seen that happen? He used to make Sunny go to the bathroom with him so he wouldn't get lonely!”

“Pffft.” She’d forgot about that. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess… I guess they did seem a little weirder than normal.”

“I don’t know why, obviously. And I guess now I never will. But I just… I really don’t think it was your fault. And I know you think I’m just saying that, but I swear, I’m—”

“No, I know.” Kel might be a totally tonedeaf dumbshit, but he doesn’t lie. “It’s just, uh. A lot to take in. I probably gotta sleep on it. …Assuming I ever manage to sleep again. For the rest of my fucking life.”

Kel huffs a laugh. He can relate. He is beyond tired. But something about Aubrey makes him feel strangely awake. Cornered and defensive, too, but definitely also awake.

Something about that twangs on a thread of memory. Something he heard, or… maybe something he dreamed? He’s probably just being stupid, but for some reason, it feels strangely important.

“Hey… Aubrey?”

She looks at him.

“Do you ever feel, like. Out of balance?”

Her eyes narrow. “You think I’m unbalanced?”

“Not like that,” he says quickly, before she can start hitting. “Like. Uh. Like… Homeostasis?”

Now she’s really baffled. “Do you even know what that means?”

Shit, does he? “Uh… Like… Checks and balances?”

“What?”

Kel huffs sheepishly. When he was listening to dream-Sunny, this whole metaphor felt a lot more self-explanatory. “Like… Maybe none of us are any good alone? And when we were kids, we were only okay ‘cause we, like, balanced each other out? And that’s why we’re all…” He trails off. He doesn’t know how to say it.

The trouble is, Kel has no idea what he’s doing. Mari was always better at this kind of thing. The silver medal went to Hero. Then it was Basil, then Sunny, and then Kel and Aubrey, pretty much tied for last. So there’s basically no one less-qualified to have this conversation.

…Ugh. This was stupid. Kel is just being stupid. Only a total idiot would try to translate dream logic into actual human words. And it’s not like Aubrey ever needed anyone before. Why would it be different now?

“Sorry,” he sighs, sagging. Exhaustion makes long, jittering silhouettes of every shadow. Two street signs look, in the corner of his eye, like two figures holding hands. “Sorry, I don’t mean to… Aw, forget it. Sorry. I’m just, uh. Not really sleeping, I guess.”

Aubrey stares. She’s never seen Kel look this worn down. And she definitely hasn’t seen him look so totally defeated.

“Look,” she mutters at last. “Do you wanna come back to my place?”

Kel whips around to gape at her.

“...I’m not coming onto you?”

“I-I know!!!” he insists. “I just—I wouldn’t wanna… get in your way?”

“Okay. So don’t.”

“Pfft,” he snickers. He’s probably being kinda selfish, but he really doesn’t wanna go back home. “Then, um. If it’s really not annoying, then… Yeah. I kinda really do.”

Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46429294/chapters/117750637

Or start from chapter one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46429294/chapters/116900185

[dragonmasterhiccup]

She couldn’t help but giggle a tiny bit, amused by Hiccup’s theatrics. “I think I’m right too. Because guess what? My boat has been all over the place, and I haven’t heard anyone say anything about trolls! I think people were just trying to scare us into thinking it’s true.”

She smiled back up at him. “I think it does too, not like Ellie though, that’s a weird name.”

The young girl seemed to deflate a bit herself, biting down on her bottom lip in thought. “Well… maybe you could tell a story but make the dragons not sound scary? I guess if they aren’t there… then they can’t hurt me!” Her voice held a newfound bit of confidence to it, though said confidence wasn’t necessarily needed at that moment, considering the dragons wouldn’t hurt her anyways.

“I’m not that sick,” she defended. “‘S just a little cough, it’ll go away, it always goes away. N’ I always have some scrapes, my uh… someone at home says that’s just apart of life.” She gave a small shrug, hesitating a bit before eventually replying, “A little bit… sometimes I wish I lived somewhere else… but it’s okay, one day I’ll go, I don’t know where, but I will.” It would be her and her siblings, on some nice boat going from island to island, just them, she was sure of it.

“Why not?” she asked. “Don’t the kids have to work for the food here? I, I thought that was normal… And getting stuff taken, the grown ups need to say yes first, or else we can’t have it…” Why were this guys rules so weird? She thought the way she did it was the way everyone did it?

She nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but this stuff is super nice, it already doesn’t hurt as bad a before… maybe I’ll have to tell my dad to bring some of this stuff onto his boat! I try to help, but uh, he doesn’t like it a lot- he will this time, though, ‘specially since this stuff is super helpful!”

“Oh… so you two both just boss everyone else around that isn’t each other?” she asked, borderline completely ignoring Hiccup’s statement.

She almost stumbled backwards as he stood up, but she barely managed to keep her footing, still staring up at him wide eyed, a few fresh tears rolling down her cheeks as she bordered on sobs.

“I promise I wasn’t gonna stab her, I wasn’t, I don’t wanna hurt people, I jus’ wanted to be safe.” She choked back on sobs some more as he continued talking, her eyes darting between the knife, the spilled tea, and Hiccup.

The ringing in her ears intensified, and she clawed her hands over either of them, trying to get rid of the noise, thought it didn’t do all that much.

“M’ not safe, I wanna go home. P-please don’t hurt me, I won’t do it again. Please, I’ll just go, you’ll never have to see me ever again. I’m so sorry…” By the end of her little rant, she had sunk back down to the floor, forehead pressed in between her knees and arms wrapped around her head, now letting out rapid, choked sobs.

It was good to see her smile, to hear her giggle. He grinned at her, nodding again. "I agree. That must be it, because wouldn't we have found one by now?"

Hearing her idea, he brightened up. "Now that, I can do. I have plenty of stories where the dragons aren't scary, you'll love them!"

It was hard to hear her talk so casually about that. "Uh, well...I suppose it is a part of life, yes, but... I don't know. While our lives can be dangerous at times, you should be shielded from it until you've been trained enough to keep yourself safe..."

He found himself saying, "What about here?" before he was able to stop himself. He quickly added, "I mean, maybe when you do go off on your own, you could, you could come back, visit Berk?"

She sure got him there. "Ah, well, yes, but, you're our guest. I'm not going to ask much of you during your time here..."

She was still so hopeful, it was nice to see. "Yeah, I can write down what we use to make it, map out where to find the ingredients, send that back with you?"

He didn't want to aid Drago in any way, but, if this helped Danny and the other kids stuck under his thumb? Then it was worth it.

Hiccup's jaw dropped slightly, and Astrid let loose a peal of giggles.

"Let me put it this way," she said, "Hiccup is Chief of Berk, and I'm Chieftess. We do our best to help, to guide the people of Berk in their best interests. We solve disputes, create treaties, we do what's needed to keep our village and everyone in it happy and thriving. Does that answer your question?"

Hiccup's brows furrowed together in confusion. "Stab her? Wait, hold on..." He lowered Zephyr into her pack n play, and carefully went back to Danny, kneeling down once more so he was on her level. He kept his hands down, careful to not move them too quickly.

She was now back on the floor, and crying, and Hiccup was at a loss for what to do.

Okay, what would be comforting right now?

Reaching past her, he pulled the fur off the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders. He kept his hands on her shoulders, the fur between them.

Speaking softly, he said, "Hey...you don't have to worry, a little spilt tea isn't going to hurt anyone." He reached over slightly, starting to rub her back, a habit he'd picked up from calming Zephyr down. "No one's upset, or angry. It was an honest mistake. You want to be safe? Why don't you tell me what Astrid and I can do to help? We want you to be safe, too, believe it or not."

"I'm not crazy about the knife, but, you're here, in a new place, with new people, and I can see why you took it, but... You can come to me with any worries or concerns, okay?"

What else might help?

"Would you like to hear a story?"

[amjustagirl]

Love knows not its depth (until the hour of separation) 

pairing: Kuroo x f! reader  genre: angst / fluff, post timeskip! warnings: a tiny smudge of suggestive content wc: 4.9k m.list ~ taglist. ~

a/n: this is my rendition of a grown up Kuroo. life has been a little hectic for me recently, so i’m only getting around to posting it now. pls be kind and i hope y’all love it <3 

“I need a break.”

Kuroo continues to snore. You are unsurprised he doesn’t hear you. After all, he came home glassy eyed, smelling strongly of alcohol after yet another night of drinks with his boss before quickly falling asleep in bed. It’s what he does most weekday nights, leaving you alone at home to manage your two daughters and tuck them into bed. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro.”

You are too tired to even tell him how you feel. You have a career of your own, two daughters to raise, a never ending list of chores and errands that must be done. You are a mother, a wife, a career woman. You have so many roles to play yet there is no space for you. 

You must do something, anything or risk your heart imploding in your very chest. 

You cannot survive that. 

The next morning, you call your boss, ask for a day off. Then you pack your girls off to your mother’s place with two little suitcases with toys and clothes enough for a long weekend before you take the train to Hakone, check yourself into the ryokan with a view of Mt. Fuji that you spent your honeymoon at - except this time, you’re alone (but then again, you’ve been lonely for so long, you hardly notice the difference anymore).

You dip yourself into the hot waters of the onsens, watch bamboo sway in the breeze. It’s been at least a year since you’ve been even able to take a bath uninterrupted. There’s always something - Aiko needing help with her homework, Fumiko whining for another piece of mochi, your boss calling to chase for yet another report, so all you’ve ever had time for is a hurried shower before placating your daughters or seating yourself in front of your laptop to deal with your boss. 

Finally, you’ve stolen a day to yourself. It’s absolute bliss. 

The water is kind to you. Its heat soothes your aching muscles, the rising steam steadies your breath. You walk out of the baths feeling refreshed, renewed, but when you enter your room you find Kuroo Tetsuro waiting for you. 

“I’ve been calling your phone all afternoon”, he says, face pinched. “I was worried.”

“Were you?” you say before you can stop yourself. “Really?” 

“Of course”, he says, uncrossing his legs to stand. “You’re my wife and the mother of my children, of course I care.”

Wife. Mother. Employee. 

The roles that life has handed you haunts you again. There is no escape for you. 

Your skin suddenly feels as if it’s stretched too tight over your frame. Your bones rattle, brittle. They threaten to break if you take another breath. Yet you laugh and laugh and laugh, the sound spilling from your lips filling the room, suffocating the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you really cared, you would have noticed that your wife is broken”, you tell him between bouts of laughter. “I tried fixing myself with a break but you can’t even give me that.” 

Kuroo stares at you, equal parts horrified and confused. He takes a hesitant step forward towards you before thinking the better of it, swerving over to the kettle instead, clutching it as if it holds the cure to your madness. 

“Calm down”, he says, “take a seat”, and you do. He offers you a cup of tea. You accept it, even though you’re still shaking from the aftershock of your laughter. “Drink”, he says, and you bring the cup to your lips, though you wonder absently why you taste salt in the bitter tea. 

“Tell me what’s wrong”, he begs. “Tell me what I can do to fix you.” 

You want to tell him that you’re not strong enough to do what’s expected of you. You want to tell him that you’re drowning from the weight of being his wife, the mother of his kids, from being a working woman that he can be proud of. You want to tell him that you understand his career is important, but so is yours, and you can’t carry the weight of the world alone. 

But that would take too many words, and you are far, far too tired for that. 

So you say blankly - “I can’t do this anymore, Tetsuro.”

His face falls. 

You should remember that Kuroo Tetsuro, first and foremost, is a child scarred by his parents’ divorce. You should remember that you made promises that you and he would never put your daughters through that. But you’ve floated beyond hysteria into a grey indifference, your mind too broken, too tired, too numb to consider him when you can barely even hold on to yourself. 

You don’t even notice the hot tears soaking through your yukata. You are deaf to his pleas to give him another chance. There is nothing left in you to give because you’ve poured all you’ve had into him, into your family, into your job. You are so, so empty, and you just sit and sip your tea and wonder idly if the warmth from the liquid you’re ingesting will make you feel a little more alive, or if it’s possible to ease the dull ache in your heart. 

It is only when you wake up the next day and the sun is high in the sky that you register that he rolled out your futon for you, tucked you into bed, and kissed your forehead as a goodnight and goodbye. But all of this is washed away by the relief you feel when you read the note he’s left behind telling you that he’s returned to Tokyo, and to enjoy your break. 

So you do. 

You relish every bite of the meals you have at the ryokan. It’s nice not having to cook or scarf down your food at your office desk for once. You fill your time flitting between the onsens and curling up in your room with a book, taking frequent cat naps until tomorrow comes around again and it’s time to check out and head home. 

There’s a brief moment of surprise when the reception informs you politely that your husband already paid your bill - but you suppose that’s just Tetsuro being efficient at racking up credit card points. The bullet train takes you back to Tokyo, and a couple stops on the subway takes you home.  

“Okaeri”, you call softly out of habit, not expecting anyone to respond, but Kuroo responds with an even softer ‘Tadaima’, striding over to take your bags from you and usher you into the apartment. There are pink roses sitting in a vase, but you pay it no mind. 

“The girls?” you ask, already headed in the direction of their room. 

“I picked them up from your mom”, Kuroo responds. “Don’t wake them up, I just put them to bed”.

A peek into their room and it settles your mind to see that your girls are safe and sound asleep. 

“Thanks,” you say, back in the kitchen, checking the fridge for what you can whip up for breakfast for you and the girls tomorrow. “By the way, I’ll pay you back for the hotel room from my own money, don’t worry.”

“It’s fine”, Kuroo answers, scratching his head. His hair seems a little more rumpled than usual. “I’ll cover it. I should’ve realised you needed a break.”

“You sure? You don’t have to pay for me, I’ve got money of my own.”

“No, let me pay for it, please. It’s the least I can do.” 

You shrug. “Okay”, you say gracelessly. “Thank you.”

He continues to watch you over the kitchen counter as you lay out bread, eggs, ham, cheese. It’ll do for a quick breakfast for the girls tomorrow, never mind the guilt eating away at you that you really should do better than feeding them processed food all the time. You’re so preoccupied with planning the morning rush, the best way to clear the stack of reports that must have piled up on your desk at work by now that you miss Kuroo rounding the counter to stare down at you worriedly. 

“You haven’t had dinner?” 

“Oh no, I had a bento on the train on the way back.” It’s second nature to you to brush away anyone’s concern. “It’s for the girls’ breakfast.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take them to childcare before work tomorrow. Sleep in and take a break.”

“Really?” You stare back at him, confused. He doesn't even take charge of the girls in the mornings when you’re sick, your mother always has to fill in your place. He only ever turns up on the first day of school each year. 

“Yes, of course. In fact, I’ve rearranged my work schedule so I can take them to school all of this week at least.”

“Oh”, you say, brows furrowed in confusion. “Okay, I guess. Wake me up if you need my help.”

“I won’t”, he replies, with a cocky smirk that seems almost false. “Goodnight, love.”

You don’t think of Kuroo’s strange behaviour overmuch, falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

Kuroo continues to act strangely all of next week. 

As promised, he takes charge of getting the girls out of bed and ready for school. But you’re taken aback when he starts coming home for dinner, completely floored when he hands you a whole armful of bath salts and orders you to take a relaxing, hot bath while he wrangles both the girls and the washing machine into submission. 

He even calls your mother to ask her to babysit on a Saturday evening so he can take you out for dinner at a fancy restaurant that serves foam instead of food. You manage to stumble through conversation with him - a commendable effort, since it’s been so long since you’ve even held a proper conversation with him besides snatches of discussion about the girls. 

At least until he states during dessert - “we can make it work if you want to quit your job and stay home full time with the children.”

The mousse on your spoon melts by the time you put it down on your plate. 

“Did the guys at work tell you it’s easier to have a housewife instead of a working wife? Are you saying this because you don’t think I’m a good enough mother to our girls? Is that what this is about?”

Kuroo shakes his head frantically, reaches across the table for your hand, but you yank it away with a glare. The extra rest you’ve gotten this week has injected a little more fight in you. 

“I try my best to be a good wife and mother, but I’m sorry I can’t be perfect and be there for you and the girls 24/7.” You press down on the sliver of cake with a vengeance. Clink! goes the flat of your spoon against the porcelain plate. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but I don’t want to be reliant on you.”

You regret your harsh words when Kuroo slumps back into his chair, murmuring “I just wanted you to be happy. Forget I ever said that.”

He pays the bill and you walk home in silence. He bids you goodnight with a crumpled smile. 

It finally clicks when you are startled awake by Kuroo’s shout of alarm. 

You roll over, grabbing his shoulder to shake him awake from the nightmare that has him in its grip. His eyes jolt open, and the sight of your face makes him sink back into the pillow with a sigh of relief. 

“Thank the gods you haven’t left.”

“Why would I leave? This is my home, isn’t it?” You mumble, turning your back to him again. 

You feel the bed shift as Kuroo sits up. 

“No”, he rasps, voice rough with sleep. “I was afraid you left me”. 

Oh. So that’s what all of this is about. 

You must stay quiet for far too long, because he gingerly crawls over to you. 

“Dearest”, he says, your heart suddenly aching because you don’t remember the last time you heard him use that pet name with any amount of affection. “Darling”, he tries again, pawing at your back. You shut your eyes resolutely and refuse to turn to face him. 

He doesn’t give up, even though the distance between you seems to yawn wide and wider with each passing second. 

“Are you?” he asks, his words small, shrunken in the still, dark room. “Going to leave me, I mean.” 

No, you’re about to say, the word balancing at the tip of your tongue but it feels wrong. Your break has given you the space to breathe, the time to think. It’s made you realise what you’ve said to him in the ryokan that night remains true. 

This week has shown you that Kuroo can do better as a husband, as a father if he wants to. But he’s poisoned your marriage with neglect, forced you to dress up your sadness in silence, allowed your resentment to fester and simmer into frigid indifference. If you reassure him that you aren’t going to leave him, it’s only because you’re too tired to, not because you actually love him anymore. 

“I don’t know, Tetsuro. Our daughters deserve to grow up with both their parents, but I’m not sure I want them to learn from my example that it’s okay to shoulder the weight of marriage, parenthood and a full time job all by themselves. Your dreams and career are important, I know, but I’m just so tired of being alone in this marriage when it was always supposed to be a partnership between me and you.” 

You hear him choke back a sob. You should comfort him, but the exhaustion you feel at being honest with him, with yourself, weighs your bones down, forces you to sink further down into your mattress. 

“I’m sorry”, he finally says. 

“I’m tired, Tetsuro”, you whisper brokenly, clutching the blankets to your chin. “I think I deserve better.”

“I know. I’ll make it better, I promise.” 

You want to ask him how, but your eyelids grow heavy, and you allow yourself to submerge into slumber. 

You’re not sure what to expect, but the ground beneath your feet shifts. Things start to change. 

Kuroo continues to take your daughters to childcare in the morning on the way to work as he did last week. That very weekend, he straps Fumiko to his chest, takes Aiko by her hand, and within an hour at the department store aided by a flash of his credit card, he purchases a dishwasher and robot vacuum for the house. He loads the dishes without you asking, runs the robot vacuum remotely once a day. It buys you time to breathe, a little more time to sleep. 

He doesn’t always make it home in time for dinner, but he tries his best to rush home so he can read the girls a bedtime story and tuck them into bed. 

“Dada”, Fumiko lisps, chubby fists wound around Kuroo’s tie. ‘I wanna hear another princess story!” 

“No Fumiko! Papa promised to tell us how he met mama!” Aiko prods Kuroo’s side with the wooden doll Yaku sent from Russia that you know he abhors. ‘Keep your promises, papa!” 

“Alright, settle down you monsters. I’ll tell you two stories if you promise to go to sleep right after that.” The girls cheer. “Now. Let’s see. A long, long time ago, your papa met your mama when she decided to beat him up because she thought he was trying to steal her food.” 

“You were trying to steal my food”, you interrupt, leaning against the doorway amused. “You didn’t stop til I stabbed you with my fork.”

He glances up, surprised when you sit beside him on the bed. Then he grins. 

“You left it on the table, dearest. What was a guy supposed to think?” 

“Mama, please let dada tell the story”, Aiko interjects with a huff. 

“Hurry up, dada! I want the princess story next!” Fumiko pulls at her silly dada’s shirt, pouting. 

You both laugh. There’s a soft smile playing on his lips when his eyes meet yours. 

Travelling all around Japan is still part of his job as a marketing director of the Japanese Volleyball Association. But now Kuroo pares it down to the bare minimum, makes sure he’s always back by the weekend at the very least to sweep the girls in his arms and shoo you off for a break of afternoon tea with your friends or shopping with your mom. 

“Will you be ok when I’m gone?”

You hand him his suitcase, a flask of his favourite tea. “I’ve always managed fine. Nothing’s changed.”

He bends down to kiss Aiko on her forehead, pinch Fumiko’s cheek playfully. 

“Yes. Well. I’ll come home soon”, he says, quietly. You startle slightly as he brushes his thumb over your wrist, lets it drift over your pulse point. “Please wait for me.” 

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes. “I’ll see you soon then”, you reply. His smile widens, his eyes are hopeful, bright. 

On the weekends, he stops flitting off for work functions and events. Instead, now he joins you for lunches at the kaiten zushi near your house, indulging the girls by ordering yet another plate of sushi just so Aiko has another chance to win a toy from the gachapon and Fumiko has another chance at feeling grown up when she lifts the plate from the conveyor belt. He stops ducking out from dinners at the grandparents’ place - both his and yours. Your mom stops giving him dirty looks when he actually turns up more than three times in a row with sake in hand. 

Once every so often, he even throws little parties for your family of four, going so far as to buy a frilly pink apron that makes your daughters giggle when he whips it out for the first time. After a few mishaps (and a number of frantic calls to Fukunaga), he masters how to make takoyaki and okonomiyaki, and in the colder months, he makes steaming pots of nabe and shabu shabu. 

“Itadakimasu” you murmur, and the girls follow suit. “It tastes good”, you say. 

He ducks his head bashfully, pink dusting the column of his neck. 

“Thank you”, he replies. “That means a lot, coming from you.” 

You start to savour the bubbles of happiness in your chest when you see how your daughters’ eyes shine when they see their papa whip out the pink apron. You learn to laugh when you hear the pitter patter of little feet, their delighted squeals and shrieks when they tell you the latest exploits their silly papa is cooking up - sparklers under the stars one weekend, a nerf gun fight, the next.

The weight on your shoulders grows lighter and lighter until one day you hardly notice it at all. 

“What’s wrong?” you frown at the sight of your husband dashing out of your bedroom, hair a frazzled mess. 

He whips around at the sound of your voice. “Oh. Oh.” He approaches you, slowly, carefully. “You’re still here.”

Your frown deepens. “My boss called and asked me to send out an urgent email. I was just about to go back to bed. Tetsuro, is everything alright?” 

He nods. “It’s fine - I just... I just woke up and thought you were gone.” 

You take a closer look. It’s dark, but the shadows of the night fail to hide the purple smudges beneath his eyes, the fine lines carved into his brow. His shoulders are bowed, his lips downturned and he looks broken, battered.    

Your heart hurts for him. 

“I’m here”, you say, beckoning him towards you. Physical affection has been scarce between you two for so, so long but he looks so distraught it’s only natural to pull him close, let him rest his head on your lap. “I’m here, Tetsuro. I’m not about to run off into the night – you know I don’t like the cold.”

He doesn’t laugh at your feeble joke. “Are you happier now? Are things better for you?” 

“Yes”, you say firmly, combing your fingers through his hair, rubbing circles along his back. “Thank you, Tetsuro. I appreciate it. I really do.”

You can feel him sag in relief. 

“You don’t have to work yourself to the bone for me. That’s – that’s never what I was asking for. If you’re tired, you need to take a break.”

He shakes his head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I can bear it as long as you don’t leave me.” 

“Tetsuro –“ 

He sits up abruptly, takes your hands in his. 

“Promise you won’t leave me”, he begs, head bowed. “I know I’ve been a shit husband to you for so long. It’s no excuse, but I thought - ” he swallows heavily, waits until his voice stops wavering. “I thought we were ok, ‘cos we didn’t fight, not like my parents did before – before my mother left.”

“I was too tired to fight with you”, you say simply. 

He nods once, jerkily. “I know – I know that now. When you disappeared that day, I didn’t know what to do. I went to your mom’s place and she reamed me out, screamed at me in front of the neighbours. I took the kids back, and it made me realise how fucking hard it was for you to do it all alone.” He inhales, closing his eyes as if the memory aches. “I know it’s late but I’ve changed, I swear. The girls need you. I need you. I’ll do anything as long as you stay.”

His fingers are freezing, but you do not pull away. Not when the desperation reflected in his irises makes your heart lurch in pain.

“It was hard”, you confess, and he shudders, struck in the chest by your honesty. “It was so hard, Tetsuro. You hurt me so damn much that I think I became numb to the pain. I don’t think I was really functioning for a while. For a long while.”  

“I’m sorry”, he whispers, and you nod shakily. 

“I know”, you reply, reaching out a hand to cup his face, a bittersweet twist to your lips as he melts into your touch. “That’s a chapter of my life, of our marriage that can’t be re-written. We can’t rewind that. But the past few months have been so different. I – you’ve shown me you’ve changed. And I think –“

You fall silent. 

He prompts you. “Dearest?” 

You recall the glimmer of light in your daughters’ eyes every morning when he takes their hands to walks them to school. You hear the echoes of their laughter, the lilt in their sweet voices every night when they welcome him home. You think of the tea parties he throws, the blanket forts he builds, the frilly pink apron he wears without shame and the bedtime stories he weaves every night.

“I think”, you say, with a smile that reminds him of the rising sun. “I think we can make this work again.” 

He stares at you until the weight of your words dawns upon him, and he surges forward to fold you into his arms. 

“Thank you”, he whispers into the shell of your ear. “I won’t fuck this up again, I promise.” 

“Don’t thank me, you silly man”, you nuzzle into his neck sleepily, draping your arms around his waist. “Thank yourself for making me believe in you.”

He laughs wetly, cradling you close as you fall asleep against his chest, soothed by his heartbeat and the tenderness in his gaze.  

Fumiko wakes you up unceremoniously before the sun even rises by climbing into your lap, and you open your eyes to Aiko pouting, hands on hips, demanding to know what’s for breakfast, and dada, dada, make a ham sandwich, pretty please with a cherry on the top. 

“You guys are little monsters”, Kuroo teases with dancing eyes. “Can’t even give your papa a break to snuggle up to your mama.” 

The girls shriek in dismay. “Don’t be mean”, you admonish him gently. 

He mock sniffs. “I’m cranky in the mornings unless I get a morning kiss.”

Aiko and Fumiko crowd the sofa, clamouring to give their papa a kiss, but he stalls them with an imperious wave of his hand. 

“This morning, only a kiss from your mama can chase my crankiness away”. His tone is teasing, but his shoulders remain tense.  

“Nonsense. You make it sound as if kisses contain caffeine”, you scold, swatting his arm lightly as the girls giggle. 

“Yours do!” he protests, and you roll your eyes as you press your lips to the corner of his lips, laughing when he puffs out his chest and declares his day can now start, that everything’ll be as right as rain.

Some days are full of sunshine, whilst others are full of rain. That’s life – but it’s bearable, enjoyable even, now that you and Kuroo face each day together, thanking the sun when it shines, and splashing through puddles on rainy days. 

Things recalibrate. 

The mornings are his domain now – he’s a master at concocting the most random breakfast items to satisfy your finnicky daughters. Aiko sniffs when she informs you that she’d prefer her papa to braid her hair, thank you very much, and when you shoot a look of death at Kuroo, he can’t even keep his face straight, his trademark hyena laugh erupting from his chest. 

You cook dinner in the evenings, appreciating the times when he can join you at the table, not counting the nights he can’t against him because you know he’s trying his best. The girls clamour for his stories every night, laughing when he teasingly scolds them for yanking on his tie, demanding goodnight kisses from both him and you. 

Now you force Kuroo to take some time to himself, shoo him off for lunches with Kenma, get-togethers with his Nekoma schoolmates. “I know you can manage it”, you tell him archly, “but you need breaks  so you don’t burn out, or worse – you’ll lose your hair and we don’t want that”. When he opens and closes his mouth without a smart retort, you smirk. You get your way. 

Both of you organise parties and playdates, inviting your shared friends – Kenma, of course, is a frequent guest, Bokuto, who brings along Akaashi and his sweet tempered little son (who Aiko always manages to pick a fight with, much to Kuroo’s amusement). You host Kai, who always brings offerings of flowers from his garden, Yaku, when he’s in town with his daughter, son and alarmingly fat cat. The adults congregate in the kitchen with food and alcohol, cracking good natured jokes at Kuroo and his frilly pink apron, watching the children cause a ruckus in the living room. 

But you cherish the quiet moments you share with Kuroo at night when the children are asleep in bed. The chats you have whilst soaking in a hot bath about your day at work, the snippets of stories he shares about his boss, his crazy colleagues, the warmth of his arm around you as you stay up to clear emails late into the night, the heated kisses he presses to the nape of your neck to distract you when he thinks you’re working too hard. 

It’s a good life. You’re happy, and so is he. 

A year slips by. 

The seasons come full circle. You return to the ryokan, finding peace in soaking yourself in steaming pools, watching the bamboo sway, the sun rise over Mt. Fuji. But this time, you’re not alone. You persuade Kuroo that he, too, needs a break - deserves one, truly. So you leave the girls with your mother and take the bullet train down to Hakone. 

He shoots you a smirk as you both emerge from the private bath he’d insisted on booking. You swat at him, pulling your yukata higher up your neck, scowling as he winds an arm around your waist to press you into his side. 

“You couldn’t wait til we got back to our room?” you hiss at him. 

He chuckles lowly in response. “Didn’t hear you complaining”, he retorts. 

“We were in an onsen, Tetsuro!” 

“A private one”, he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, laughing aloud when you try and fail to slap your hand over his mouth. “What d’you think I was going to do with my lovely wife? I’m not a monk, sweetheart”

You try your best to shush him, but his cackling manages to capture the attention of everyone in the lift.  

“What a happy couple”, an old lady remarks, within your earshot. “They must be newly married” 

You think she must be a little senile. Or a little blind. 

Neither of you are in your first flush of youth anymore - there are streaks of grey in Tetsuro’s mop of hair, extra weight in your hips and lines in your faces. No one could conceivably mistake you for a pair of newlyweds.

“Nah”, Kuroo drawls easily into your ear. “Just your regular old, married couple.”

You don’t speak until you’re safely in your room. 

“A regular, old, happily married couple”, you say, as he hands you a cup of tea. “That obaa-san got that part right at least.”

Kuroo chokes on the lump of emotion in his throat as you serenely sip your tea. 

The tea tastes bitter (as it always does), but the kisses that follow are so very, very sweet. 

[staceymcgillicuddy]

Day 23: Surprise

Happy holidays, everyone! Thanks to @hellcheerxmas for running such a fun event! This is the last day of ficlets, so a big hug to everyone who liked, reblogged, or read one of these along the way. If you want to read anything else from me, my AO3 is StaceyMcGill, and I post fairly regularly. (Or you can just follow my Tumblr.)

December 1993 Paris, France

“Can’t you un-cancel it?” Eddie says as Paul, their long-suffering manager, follows him down the corridor toward the stage door in the wake of his sour mood. 

The situation isn’t Paul’s fault. Not entirely. But it is Paul’s fault that Eddie’s in Paris, while his wife of four months is missing him in LA. The gig was a last-minute request—a charity concert for sick kids, which is noble enough, but they were only asked because a bigger band fell through. Ultimately, the show was a bomb because they’re not that big in Europe yet, and there’s nothing worse than a lousy set. 

Except, maybe, for finding out that he’s not actually headed home tonight, the twenty-first of December, and he’s stuck in this snow-encrusted hellscape for at least one more day? Yeah, that’s absolute balls, and Paul gets to bear the brunt of his irritation. 

“Everything’s booked,” Paul says. “C’mon, man, it’s not that bad. You’re still at the Ritz.” 

Eddie scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets, already anticipating the bitter bite of cold air when he steps outside the venue. He wants a fucking cigarette, but he’s trying to quit, so he settles for snapping at Paul again. “Yeah, that’ll sound good. Sorry, Chrissy, but I might not make it home for Christmas.” 

“You’re not gonna miss—”

“Whatever, dude.” Eddie flips Paul the bird as he slides into the back of the waiting black car. “Fix it.” 

“Doing my best, boss,” Paul replies, and maybe Eddie feels fifteen percent bad about being a dick, but Paul had sworn up and down both sides of his fucking face that it was a one-and-done, in-and-out sort of gig that would set them up for a European tour next year, maybe. 

Eddie drums his fingers against his thigh as the bright lights of Paris pass by. City of light, city of romance, yadda yadda yadda. Not so much. He’s jet-lagged, cranky, hungry, and he should be on his way to the goddamn airport to get greeted by Chrissy at home, not pulling up to the Ritz and getting greeted by doormen. 

His sour mood hangs over him like a cloud as he takes the elevator to his floor, and he knows he needs to call home, but he doesn’t want to have that conversation, either. Maybe a couple of drinks first, so he won’t be cut quite so deep by the crushing disappointment in her tone when she tells him it’s “fine, Eddie, honestly,” because she will because she’s the fucking best. 

It comes as quite a surprise, then, when Eddie flips on the light in his room and discovers the ‘she’ in question reclining on his bed in a short black teddy with matching lace panties. The expression on her face is one of the cat who’s just gotten the cream, with a giggle to boot. 

“Holy shit,” he says. 

“Surprise,” she replies and sits up on her knees. 

“What the fuck…” 

“Christmas in Paris sounded so romantic, I couldn’t pass up the chance to join you.” She glances at the phone on the nightstand. “Paul says you’re in a mood.” 

Eddie’s brain is stuck somewhere in her cleavage, and he can only manage a dumbfounded, “Paul?” 

“Duh. Who do you think conspired with me to put all this together?” 

She holds out her arms. Eddie doesn’t waste a second before stepping into them. Kisses her sweetly and pushes her back so he can press the length of her against the length of him in that familiar, easy fashion. 

“You’re cold,” she declares, even as she unzips his coat.

“You’ll warm me up.”

(The next day, she makes him seek Paul out. Eddie does so grudgingly, but honestly, that’s just for show. Paul deserves the apology and a fat Christmas bonus, both of which Eddie is more than happy to give him.)

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[ahjustroza]

Do you have any hcs abt Last Legacy modern au?

Sorry for the wait! I just write very slow 🥺😭 btw I am still writing other requests! I'll post them as soon as I finish writing ✨😌😏 And YES I still take requests😏😏😏

Lol btw I haven't played the catboy Felix tale yet but found his delicious CG. Also, there might be typos etc. My dyslexia was a hoe for the last couple of days (･_･

Last Legacy Modern Au Headcanons

Sage

Lmao the first time you went to his place you faced with an ancient-looking old computer that he found in a garage sale

"It still works"

"Sage with its monitor alone you can heat your entire house in winter"

"Aye, but I don't have to use that to get heated if you catch my drift."

Let me give you a concept: thrift store dates

You took him to a thrift store once and thought it might be fun

But at the moment you entered the store Sage found a damn fake fur jacket and gold sunglasses

He will buy anything with a famous brand logo and say it is original and is an antique

But he'll only do that to annoy people

Mostly.

Sage cares about his looks but doesn't go crazy about it

Before dating you he just lived his life like a street kid like in cyberpunk 2077

Sage and Tulsi grew up in slums and then Sage got an apartment so that Tulsi could grow up in a safe environment

He didn't go to college but made sure that Tulsi did

Sage basically works as a mercenary in the modern au as well

He travels a lot and has to disappear for a looong long time

Tulsi is used to it but you aren't

Once you two are in a relationship and he feels ready to settle down he might get a job closeby to your shared house

You made him realize that he needs his family around him

And now he is not alone to carry all the burden by himself

He knows that if he can't make it in time you will be there to help out Tulsi or take care of all the work for him

He feels lighter around you

Also, he makes many people jealous on the streets lol

Whenever you two are on a date no one can believe that you, a literal divine being, could look at a Boku no pico catboy maid-sama man like him.

He is also jealous of you

But never possessive

He likes to send you out of context memes in the worst possible times ever

Like you got Luigi and Mario animations, doing the waltz, with the Britney Spears' Toxic song during the busiest hour of your shift

He also texted "This us"

The audacity

Sage would also LOVE video games

Especially Final Fantasy games

But he suck at playing them so he makes you play instead

And he'll give instructions too

"I saw a checkpoint in the other room babe,"

"Love, I gotta run away from the boss right now."

"It's not the boss, bosses have their boss rooms. This is an obstacle"

Sage also suck at filing taxes

So good luck with that

I can see Sage having PTSD treatments because of his traumatized childhood and the life he had to live until now after settling down with you

You convinced him to go to therapy and Tulsi backed you up

So he will take medications every day

At first, you had to remind him a lot, but then he just made it an addiction and now doesn't need reminders

He was never happier and finally had a taste of a healthy and caring relationship with you

He is also not so terrible with putting the IKEA furniture together.

Felix

He got expelled from Harvard.

Then his rich father had to convince the headmaster to reconsider the decision and Felix ended up with suspension instead smh

Felix's grades are great but he has disciplinary issues

I can see him majoring in criminal justice and mortuary science

Or maybe just mortuary science

Escell was very disappointed in him.

He is also famous for dating with the valedictorian among Harvard graduates

Then they broke up and you yeeted yourself in his life

Or he yeeted himself to your arms

He literally dramatically fell one day and you happened to be close to catch him

Then the Titanic music played in the background with the slow summer rain fell down to your heads

You are hot so he was flustered

Like he internally screamed when he fell in your arms

Or shall I say fell in love?

You two then started as friends since not too later he found out that he might actually have a chance with you after you mentioned your love of video games and romance books

After starting to date he confessed that he has an AO3 account asddgf

Rime was a burden too

He was the one who broke Felix's heart

But still wanted him to only love him and him alone

Then you were like

"Hoe listen to me..."

Rime hot

But no

Felix cried until morning the day you fist fought Rime in the grocery store parking lot

AAHGDHFA

Scylla secretly approved your determination that day and watched the fight afar

Escell got drunk and Florian came home the day after for everyone's explanations

The deeper your relationship got the more a part of his family you become

I mean every Friday it was now a routine that Felix and you attended family dinner

No one even asks anymore they just put your plate down and Escell hides his most expensive wine bottles from everyone

Felix is not good to live in his own house though

He always lived with someone in the house so he wasn't alone

Ever.

When you moved into the same house with him Felix was relieved

You two will be emos together and watch fifty shades of grey movies during the quarantine

Please ask Felix if he thinks the movie is interesting, he will avoid you all day long

Then become a blanket burrito at night lmao

Oh btw he might tell you random facts about mortuary

Like you are in the shower and he comes in to brush his teeth

Then he'll tell you a fact you didn't have to know then leave

"Truly fascinating, if you ask me."

He is also the type to text you from the other side of the room

Or call you from the other room to ask you if you can bring him something to eat

Felix would also love to go to the farmers' market too

"Finally some quality food."

Whenever you two go on a vacation together

lmao someone ALWAYS takes his hand and reads his palm

Only to be ended up getting scolded and getting a proper palm reading from Felix

Anisa

Call her and ask if she wants drive tru

"Love, it is thREE IN THE MORNING, I have work tomorrow-"

"So two? Or nah?"

"Get a coffee."

Actually, she wants a cookie but won't admit it

She knows you'll get her a cookie

You always get her a cookie with coffee

Anisa might be a great investigator if you ask me

If not a detective or a police chief or lieutenant

But I think she would work in law enforcement

Or she might also start her own company and rise as well

Unlike Sage and Felix, Anisa will not live in the same house with you before she decides to settle down for good

It's not because she doesn't want you around her

But because she is always at work and doesn't want to leave everything to you to handle at home

But she is always with you on her day offs

Will call you once a day at least

Text you during her breaks or whenever she can

If you can show up at her workplace during the lunch break she will take you to the nearest coffee shop

"Their coffee is not nearly as good as yours, but among other shops, this is the most drinkable one."

She will spoil you during your dates!

She likes to see you smile and will do anything for you to have a good time with her

So expect sweets, movie nights, amusement park dates, or just traveling during both of your yearly week/month offs/breaks

She won't admit it but likes it when you try to match your clothes with hers

She will know your favorite everythings lol

Take her to a dinner date and she will be so happy and feel spoiled

She will let you paint her nails

Let you get all the hot water in the shower

Will let you wear her clothes

Pillow fights are allowed every now and then

When she gets sick she'll try to power through but likes it when you baby her

Whenever you get sick she will try to not fuss over you but every 15 minutes she'll ask to take you to see a doctor

She is a cereal gal

You might have to drag her to bed many nights because she will take work at home

Oh my god, do play dungeons and dragons with her

If you visited somewhere she has never been she will ask a lot of questions about your trip

Likes to binge a tv series you two found online

Also enjoys just silent but comfortable moments with you

When you read your book she will gaze at you

All heart eyes

Will put her favorite picture of you two as her profile picture in her social media accounts

Will like your every post

ALWAYS TEXTS BACK TO YOU. ALWAYS.

Never leaves you on read/seen

She will either give you a proper text or just let you know that she is busy at the moment

Also if you come home later than her she will ask if you want her to prepare anything special you want for dinner

otherwise, she'll do dishes that you both like anyway

If she is late, she'll call you to ask if you need anything from the grocery store, etc.

[reidsmemory]

No Regrets

Spencer Reid

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: A dinner at Rossi’s has Spencer questioned by his teammates about his feeling towards you

Genre: Fluff

not my gif!

     Working at the BAU was hard. Constant flights around the country, seeing families that had lost so much, and of course having to deal with the sick minds of those who allowed your job to be possible. There were good sides to it as well; having a second family, friendships that would last a lifetime and more, as well as reuniting and saving innocent people. 

     Today was one of the good days. It was a local case and the team had caught the killer in less than two days due to the profile and him being just about the most unorganized killer their was. To celebrate, Rossi had offered to host a nice dinner at his and no one on the team passed up the chance to go over there. 

     You arrived a few hours after the case had wrapped up as you had gone home to take a shower and get ready. You had arrived in a flowy, black dress and some black sandals to match with your hair straightened as well as having little gold hoop earrings hanging from your ears. 

     You got out of your car and walked over to the front door of your colleagues house as you rang the door bell and waited for it to open.

     “Y/N, come on in,” Rossi swung open the door and ushered you to come through the doorway. “ Did you get home okay?” he asked as we walked to the kitchen.

     “Yeah, traffic wasn’t too bad,” you smiled as your other co-workers came into sight. 

     “Princess! You look stunning,” Derek called as he opened his arms, signalling for a hug. 

     “Not too bad yourself, D,” you hugged him tightly as he chuckled a bit. With an arm still around your shoulder you pulled back and greeted everyone else with a warm smile. JJ and Will as well as Henry were sitting at the other side of the island than you and Derek. Emily was standing next to Rossi as he as teaching her something about the food you all would be eating tonight. Hotch, Penny, and Reid had yet to arrive. 

     “Drink?” Derek asked as you nodded and he handed you a glass of water. 

     “So, no Savannah?” you asked as he shook his head.

     “She’s got a shift at the hospital tonight,” he told you, “leaving me all alone tonight.” 

     You laughed at his statement, “I think it’s payback for all the night we were out of town.” He hummed and took a swig of his beer. The chiming of the doorbell rang through the house as you looked to Rossi, “I’ve got it,” he nodded at your statement as you put down your glass and started walking towards the door.

     You opened it to find Penny in a bright pink dress with a yellow and green shall as well as some purple heels. “Am I late?” she asked before hugging you tightly. 

     “Not at all,” you said as you both turned to see Hotch’s car pull up, “looks like Spence is the last one to arrive.” Penelope nodded as you saw Hotch and Jack come towards the house. “Go ahead, I’ll wait for them,” you told the blonde as she nodded and went inside.

     Hotch spotted you by the door and pointed to Jack as his eyes lit up as he began running towards you. “Y/N!” he exclaimed as he jumped into your arms.

     “Hello, mister! You look amazing!” you said as he giggled and hid his face in your neck. “Hey, Boss,” you said as Hotch gave you a side hug.

     “I’m pretty sure Jack likes you more than he does me,” Hotch told you as you went into the house. You smiled at him as Jack had taken a fascination towards your earrings. “What’s Rossi cooking up?” 

     “As far as I can tell, something that smells really good.” Hotch chuckled as you came to the kitchen and everyone turned their attention towards the three of you. Everyone began conversing again as you walked over to Derek with Jack still attached to your hip.

     “Let’s move over to the couch, yeah?” Derek said as you nodded and went to the joint living room. You put Jack down on the couch as Derek followed and soon JJ, Will, and Henry. Smiling as Henry began to share his action figures with Jack as both boys urged you to play with them. 

     “You can be Wonder Woman,” Henry handed you action figure.

     “Can I be Spider-Man?” Jack asked as Henry nodded and handed him the action figure.

     “I’ll be Batman!” the boys began to play as you joined and supervised as well seeing as Derek, Will, and JJ had been talking about something that wasn’t as interesting to you as playing with the boys. In fact the sound of the doorbell went over your head as you played with the two boys. 

     “Oh no! Poison Ivy is spreading her vines all over the city!” Jack cried as all of you got to work on defeating the villain. 

     Spencer had come in and immediately saw you on the carpet playing with the boys as his heart swelled. Spencer had always had a crush on you, from the first day you joined the BAU. With the both of you being the youngest on the team as well as your love for reading, the two of you had become very close which only fueled Reid’s feelings for you even further. 

     Seeing you play with the boys was an image he was unable to tear his eyes away from as Morgan quickly caught on. 

     “Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek called as Spencer whipped his head around.

     “What?”  

     “Ask her out.” Spencer’s cheeks flushed bright pink at this statement. “And don’t give me that ‘I don’t like her like that’ crap because I will profile you so much, boy.”

     Spencer sat next to Morgan, “you can’t tell her.” Derek grinned as Spencer looked at him, “i’m serious. I can’t ruin our relationship!” he whispered.

     “Come on! She likes you too!”

     “No way,” Spencer said, “I can’t risk it, Morgan. She’s too important to me.” Derek sighed as he looked at his friend. 

     “I’m just saying, Kid. If you don’t ask her, you are going to regret it.” Derek was interrupted as both boys finally looked up and saw Spencer. 

      “Spencer!” they both said as they set down the toys and ran towards the tall man. You had also looked up and met eyes with Spencer as you smiled brightly at the man and began to make your way over to him as well.

     “Hey guys!” Spencer said as he gave both the kids a hug as they smiled at the man. You walked over and Spencer opened his arms as you hugged him tightly, “hey, Y/N.”

     “Hi, Spence,” you pulled away and as you were about to tell him about the upcoming movie marathon that would interest the both of you, Emily had called you over to taste test something her and Rossi had been working on. 

     Derek looked at Spencer with a wide grin as the brown haired man blushed. “I’m serious, man. Anyone would be lucky to have a girl like Y/N and you’ve got a pretty good shot of being that anyone.” Derek handed Reid a beer as the doctor took a long drink which surprised the man next to him. 

     “Dinner is served!” Rossi called as everyone gathered around the kitchen. This was going to be a long night.

***

     Spencer had about 4 beers between the time he arrived and now, which was 2 and half hours later and if you knew anything about Spencer Reid then you would know he is a lightweight. Rossi had cooked up something delicious as the team had conversed over dinner and Spencer had his eyes trained on you the entire time as well as making conversation about any and everything.

     Everyone had moved outside and were now on Rossi’s deck as Hotch, JJ, and Will played with the kids, Emily and Penelope conversed about scheduling another girls day in the near future, and Rossi and Morgan talking about an old case that had still rattled their brains. 

     Spencer and you leaned over the railing of the deck as you watched the stars. “Did you know that Venus will be shining it’s brightest on April 28th, which is only a couple of week from now,” he informed you as you nodded and listened wholeheartedly. 

     “We should star gaze that night, maybe Whitmore Park. Bring blankets and just lay out and watch the night sky,” you turned to him as his doe eyes watched you, “what do you think?” 

     “Definitely,” he said immediately as a smile made it’s way to your face as he mirrored it. “Y/N?” you raised your eyebrows and hummed, signaling for him to go on. “Why do you want to do all those things with me? The movie marathons, the star gazing, chess on the plane?”

     You looked at him with a small frown on your face, “because you’re my best friend. What do you mean, Spence?”

     “Best friend,” he repeated. 

     “That’s what I said. Are you feeling okay?” you asked as he just stared at you.

     “Just friends right,” he whispered to himself as you furrowed your eyebrows, “why can’t I be something more?” This time he looked at you, but was still speaking softly as to not attract any attention. 

     “Do you want to be something more?” you spoke even quieter. 

     He nodded his head at your word he set his drink down. “I’m super drunk right now, but I think it’s a good thing because I want you to know and I definitely won’t have this much courage when i’m sober. So, will you go out with me?”

     He looked at you, waiting for his answer, but to no avail, your face was emotionless as he mentally screamed at himself. His screams were cut short.

     You placed a hand on his cheek and pulled him towards you for a kiss. You lips melted together as you smiling into the kiss as he put both his hand on the sides of your face, cradling it softly.

     You pulled away as you saw a bright smile on his face and wide twinkling eyes. “I would like that very much, Doc,” you told him as you rested your head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you. 

     The stars shining brighter than ever. 

[naalbinder]

phoebe bridgers // elliott smith parallels

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BEfu6YZ7XbdHFZBXthIpN?si=6bf8fc460eba4d33

E - Riot Coming - “Sat down in jail with this friend of mine/Who'd never close both his eyes/But one was shut all the time/To cover the thing he was scared of”

E - Stupidity Tries “To sail across the sea of trash”

E - Going nowhere - “The old records are sitting on the floor/The ones I can’t put on anymore”

E - Clementine - “Anything to pass the time/And keep that song out of your mind”

P - Smoke Signals - “One of your eyes is always half-shut/Something happened when you were a kid” - “burning trash out on the beach” - “You said that song'll creep you out until you're dead”

E - Miss Misery - (music videos on the same street)

E - Easy way out - “While I watch you making mistakes/I wish you luck I really do” “I heard you found another audience to bore”

E - Looking Over My Shoulder - “Another sick rock ‘n’ roller acting like a dick”

E - Placeholder - “I'm the person you'll never need/The biggest loser on sixteenth street” - “Just like my favourite song/Some pretty words that didn't last that long”

P - Motion Sickness - “I'll be glad that I made it out/And sorry that it all went down like it did” “You said when you met me, you were bored” - “Hey, why do you sing with an English accent?/I guess it's too late to change it now”

E - Some Song - “Help me kill my time cause I'll never be fine”

P - Funeral - “Jesus Christ i'm so blue all the time/And that's just how i feel/Always have and i always will ”

E - Bled White - “Happy and sad come in quick succession/I’m never going to become what you became”

P - Demi Moore - “I got a good feeling/It doesn't happen very often”

E - St Ides Heaven - “With an open container from 7/11”

E - A Fond Farewell - “A fond farewell to a friend”

P - Scott Street - “With an open heart, open container” - “Anyway, don’t be a stranger / don’t be a stranger”

E - Last Call - “And I think I’m all done, you can switch me off safely/While i’m lying here for sleep to overtake me”

E - Roman Candle - “I’m a roman candle/My head is full of flames ”

P - Killer - “But when I’m sick and tired/And when my mind is barely there/When a machine keeps me alive/And I’m losing all my hair/I hope you kiss my rotten head/And pull the plug” - “Tame the fire in you”

E - Georgia Georgia

P - Georgia - “Georgia, Georgia, I love your son”

E - Twilight - “That you are already somebody’s baby”

E - See you later - “Made out of a night train”

E - King’s Crossing - “Instruments shine on a silver tray”

P - Chelsea - “You are somebody’s baby” - “For a chemical imbalance/You sure know how to ride a train” - “With a needle on a tray”

E - Christian Brothers - “No bad dream fucker's gonna boss me around/Christian brothers gonna take him down”

P - Would you rather - “Quarantined in a bad dream/He's half the man and you're twice as tall”

E - Son of Sam - “Son of Sam, son of a doctors love a nurses touch/Acting under orders from above”

P - You Missed My Heart - “A feeling of relief came over my soul/I couldn't take it any longer, and I lost control”

E - Bye - (instrumental)

E - New Monkey (Instrumental)

P - DVD Menu - (instrumental)

E - Coming up roses - “And you're coming up roses everywhere you go/Red roses follow”

E - Rose Parade - “Said, Won't you follow me down to the Rose Parade?”

P - Garden Song “They're gluing roses on a flatbed/You should see it, I mean thousands”

E - Condor Ave - “I don’t know what to do with your clothes or your letters”

E - Baby Britain - “Fights problems with bigger problems/Sees the ocean fall and rise/Counts the waves that somehow didn’t hit her/Water pouring from her eyes/Alcoholic and very bitter”

E - Say Yes - “I'm in love with the world/Through the eyes of a girl/Who's still around the morning after”

E - Seen How Things Are Hard - “You just didn't care/You were off getting drunk instead”

E - The Biggest Lie - "Oh, I just told the biggest lie/ I just told the biggest lie/The biggest lie"

P - Kyoto - “And you wrote me a letter/But I don't have to read it” - “I wanted to see the world/Then I flew over the ocean/And I changed my mind” - “I wanted to see the world/Through your eyes until it happened/Then I changed my mind” - “I'm gonna kill you/If you don't beat me to it” - "Guess I lied/I'm a liar/Who lies/'Cause I'm a liar"

E - Memory Lane - “Your little house on memory lane ”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Angel in the snow/all crushed out on the way you are”

E - Last Call - “And I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me”

E - New Monkey - “For the millions of fans ignoring the bands”

E - Waltz #2 - “I'm never gonna know you now/But I'm gonna love you anyhow”

E - Amity - “I'm a neon sign and I stay open all the time”

P - Punisher - “The house where you lived with Snow White” - “But never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers” - “What if I told you/I feel like I know you?/But we never met” - “The drugstores are open all night/The only real reason I moved to the east side”

E - Some Song - “Yeah it's halloween tonight and every night”

E - Pitseleh - “I got a joke I've been dying to tell you/A silent kid is looking down the barrel/To make the noise that I kept so quiet”

P - Halloween - “Baby, it's Halloween” - “I hate living by the hospital/The sirens go all night/I used to joke that if they woke you up/Somebody better be dying”

E - Shooting Star - “So bad, so far/You made me sad/Shooting star/You're distant and cold/And a sight to behold/Everybody just sighs”

E - Satellite - “When they call it a lover's moon, the satellite/'Cause it acts just like lovers do, the satellite/A burned-out world you know/Staying up all night/The satellite”

E - Everything Reminds Me of Her - “Why are you staring into outer space, crying?/Just because you came across it and lost it”

P - Chinese Satellite - “Took a tour to see the stars/But they weren't out tonight/So I wished hard on a Chinese satellite” - “Sometimes, when I can't sleep/It's just a matter of time before I'm hearing things” b- “Instead, I look at the sky and I feel nothing/You know I hate to be alone/I want to be wrong”

E - Coast to Coast - “Still you're keeping me around/'Til I finally drag us both down (Gonna drag us both down)”

E - Little one - “The moonlight tonight/Seems to belong to me” - “One more/Little one, I love you”

E - Coming up Roses - “The moon is a sickle cell/It'll kill you in time” “While the moon does its division/You're buried below”

E - Everything Means Nothing to Me - “At attention, looking backward in a pool of water/Wishes with a blue songbird on his shoulder/Who keeps singing over everything”

E - Pretty Mary K (Other Version) - “oh Mary K, I can see your face/down there in the waves, painted and erased/but I know it's just a reflection of the moon”

P - Moon song - (52) “You asked to walk me home/But I had to carry you” - (53) “And if I could give you the moon/I would give you the moon” - (54) “You are sick and you're married/And you might be dying” - (55/56) “And you pushed me in/And now my feet can't touch the bottom of you” “But you're holding me like water in your hands/When you saw the dead little bird”

E - New Disaster - “Everybody is the same in this long no-win game/Where every new blood/Gets time to become resigned” - “Until everyone knows that your smile is just a ghost/The ghost of your smile was seen on a body in the park”

P - Savior Complex - “Baby, you're a vampire/You want blood and I promised” - “All the bad dreams that you hide/Show me yours, I'll show you mine”

E - Oh well, Ok - “If you get a feeling next time you see me/Do me a favor and let me know/Cause it's hard to tell, it's hard to say 'oh well, Ok'”

E - Last Call - “You're a tongueless talker/You don't care what you say”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Only a cold still life/ that fell down here to lay beside you”

P - ICU - (58) “But I feel something when I see you now/I feel something when I see you” - (59) “I hate your mom/I hate it when she opens her mouth/It's amazing to me/How much you can say/When you don't know what you're talking about” - “laying down on the lawn” “if you’re a work of art/I’m standing too close/I can see the brush strokes”

E - Happiness / The Gondola Man - “What I used to be/Will pass away and then you'll see/That all I want now/Is happiness for you and me”

E - Whatever (Folk Song in C) - “Whatever you're doing now would probably suit me fine/If you're all done, like you said you'd be/What are you doing hanging out with me?”

E - Big Ballad of Nothing - “You can do what you want to whenever you want to/You can do what you want to there's no one to stop you”

P - Graceland too - “Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment” - “Whatever she wants (Whatever you want)”

E - Bottle up and Explode “Bottle up and go/I can make it outside”

E - A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free - “God knows why my country don't give a fuck” - “Shine on me baby, because it's raining in my heart”

E - Alphabet Town - “Alphabet City is haunted”

P - I Know The End - “There's no place like my room” - “To some America First rap country song” “Driving out into the sun/Let the ultraviolet cover me up”- “I'll find a new place to be from/A haunted house with a picket fence”

[blahkugo]

Rouge

Satori Tendō x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

Word Count: 2.5k

TW: Mafia AU, Dark themes, Blood play (an excessive amount of blood mentions in general), Knife play, Asphyxiation, Angst (?), mentions of death (no main characters), Just two psychopaths going at it tbh.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing for @the-smut-pile’s newest collab, hosted by @present-mel, @pleasantanathema, and @linestrider. Please make sure to check out the rest of the masterlist here!

Every night, the smell of bleach stings your nostrils and prayers left unsaid weigh heavy on your tongue. ‘It comes with the job,’ they had warned you, had urged a ‘pretty little thing like you,’ not to take a position you couldn’t stomach. You didn't listen, of course.

Because death isn’t a stranger in your life, nor an old acquaintance you catch up with once every few years. It’s a friend that phones daily, a lover you scurry into bed with—the chill down your spine when you walk home alone in eerie silence.

As a doctor you saw it everyday, with every patient that prayed for pity when the pain became all too much. Cries of the sick plagued your every waking moment; who were you to deny them release? Their suffering ended the moment you injected the drugs.

But you’ve never seen death like this before.

“Daydreaming again, angel?” Tendō swipes a disinfectant across the cold metal counter, rubbing until pools of pomegranate red match his long, messy hair. Despite the dreariness of the task, an impish smile remains plastered across his face, the glint in his eyes unscathed by the scene you’d both just witnessed.

“It’s still Doctor to you.” Try as you might, your voice comes out shaky, your heart pounding so hard you’re worried it may actually jump out. That feeling never quite leaves you.

He straightens his gloves and out comes his signature laugh—that high, maniacal, chuckle that stops just short of a song. You’d rip out your car radio if it meant getting rid of it.

“You haven’t been one for a long time.”

The truth makes you shudder, but he’s right, of course. Once your license had been stripped away and you were on the run, your career had officially ended. An ‘Angel of Mercy,’ all the news stations had called you, yapping on for days when you were that week’s most wanted woman.

You don’t have the right to be called a medical professional and yet, you stand your ground. If it means getting him to quit with the dreadful pet name, you’ll say just about anything.

“Your boss calls me Doctor.”

“Because my boss can’t remember your name.” He meets your eyes, lips quirking upward at the little huff that escapes you, your furrowed brows spilling bits of frustration you so desperately attempt to keep bottled. The air hangs heavy with the shrieks of anger you wish you could unleash, all the words you don’t dare say aloud in fear of looking weaker than he already believes you are.

Instead of challenging you further, Tendō simply turns away, chucking the wipes in a bin and humming a tune far too cheery for a man who just ended a life.

When night comes, you dream of the older man who begged to see his children one last time and the laugh that sounds like a song.

—

The next day isn’t any better, because it never is. Ushijima’s moles bring in three more bodies for questioning; bodies, because you’ve been instructed to refer to them as nothing but. And they’re young this time, heavily tattooed kids that can’t be much older than nineteen—children that look so much like the thralls of young men you’ve learned to call friends, you have to avert your eyes when they send panicked glances your way.

You wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons.

“I’ll only ask once,” the gruff, even voice echoes within the small space. “Who’s your supplier?” Your boss is cold and calculated. He never wavers, never says more than he needs to. He’s everything you’d thought the leader of a crime organization would be and more.

Tendō hovers next to him, gnarled fingers twitching eagerly at the knife splayed between them. It’s his weapon of choice, because—as he mentioned your first day on the job—he can ‘take his time with them’.

The captives crack immediately, pleading helplessly for their lives as they vow they know nothing. They probably don’t, appearing to be nothing more than lowly thugs in a long hierarchy of vile men. It doesn’t stop what comes next.

As expected, Ushijima remains silent except for the soft sigh that leaves him. Tendō sighs as well, though it seems more pleased—euphoric, even—than bored. He presses a slender finger into the tip of his knife, watches as a bit of blood runs down his lean arm, paints a strip of his tattoos red, and drips onto the metal table.

“Are they ours now?” Ours. The word brings bile to your throat. Ushijima makes his way to the door, bluntly calling over his shoulder,

“Do what you must.”

You push up your glasses, Tendō grins, and the screaming begins.

—

Blood-stained lab coats are a staple of your wardrobe. No matter how hard you scrub, fingers raw and aching, the faded pinks never seem to give. You quit months ago, resorted to throwing the worst ones away instead of putting yourself through that hell.

This coat’s going straight to the bin.

Through every horrid interrogation, you’ve forced yourself to watch. You’ve never looked away, never dared allow him to smell the fear off of you. You hand him the tools, write the information on the clipboard, assist with cleanup and disposal, and answer any questions he may have—like the good little medical doctor turned mafia member you should be.

And Tendō smiles the whole way through. Even as dagger meets flesh, as pained cries shatter your eardrums, as your vision is clouded with red, red, red—Tendō smiles, humming a tune that you hear long into the next evening.

But today, when the third young man had looked you dead in the eyes and sobbed, begging you to tell his mother he loves her, you couldn’t help yourself.

Of course, the towering redhead didn’t fail to detect the misstep.

“Bad day?” He questions innocently, resting his elbows on the now spotless titanium table. His muscles ripple as he leans, boasting the thousands of dollars worth of art across his arms. It bothers you that you notice it, even more that he probably catches you gawking. He sees everything, after all. Everything but the blood still splattered across his body.

“Won’t be the last, for us at least.” Brows raise, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him. If at all possible, the wicked grin on his face widens.

“You’re exactly right.” And like clockwork, he laughs. Your hands grow cold, ice corroding your veins. He swipes his tongue over his lip, leaving a slick shine on his lips. When he rises and steps toward you, you stand your ground, though you so desperately long to run. “Why so serious?”

“They didn’t know anything,” you mumble under your breath, “and you tortured them anyways.” In all your months of working with him, this is the first you’ve complained—and you immediately wish you hadn’t.

Tendō moves even closer, as though entertained by your tiny outburst. Perhaps he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally break your silence. When he speaks, his tone is gentler than usual, but still holds every hint of mockery and nonchalance the bastard is known for,

“It’s our job, angel face.” Another step, another tiny breath you’re holding in, worried that the slightest of sighs might shatter your perfected image of faux indifference. He tilts his head to the side, peering down at you, like you’re- a child.

And the glass breaks.

“Enough.” You splay your hands in front of you, halting him in his tracks, just as he invades your space. “Enough of the patronizing looks, and the humming, and the stupid pet name that you know bothers me!” An accusatory finger is jabbed into his chest. “Don’t you feel guilt? Fear? Empathy? You murder people.”

Your chest burns, heaving with rage. Tendō’s half-smile still sits on his face, words of ridicule ready to roll off his tongue any second. But when you look into his eyes, there seems to be something more—an emotion you can’t quite place. Anger? Understanding?

His next sentence is whispered with such sobriety, you’re unsure who it is you’re speaking to anymore,

“People like us don’t deserve those feelings.”

“There is no us!” The claim may come out crazy, hysterical even— a woman covered in warm blood shrieking within a cold, sterile room. For once, you don’t care. “I’m not like you.”

Those words may be what set him off, hand wrapping around your chin and tilting it up so that you’re unable to look away. Fingers that incite panic and enact violence, fingers you’ve feared since your first day here, clutching you ever-so casually. “Exactly. You’re not like me.”

He doesn’t wait for your rebuttal, gripping harder at your face. “I’ve made my peace with who I am, but you,” his breath fans your cheeks, “you only pretend you don’t enjoy it.”

Then, Tendō’s kissing you. And to your utter surprise, you’re kissing him back. Heat rises within you, the hairs at your neck curling as your lips meet with a ferocity. His palms graze your lab coat—no doubt staining his skin with the blood it’s drenched in—before he’s peeling it off.

When you tug at his messy locks, the butcher smiles and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. He pulls you closer, hurriedly stripping you of your remaining clothing, until you’re left in just your panties. Hands roam at your supple skin, kneading at your hips, meshing into you wherever he can. All the while, your lips do the same, bleeding into each other until you’re unsure of where you start and he ends.

“No.” The command is stern, perhaps the most you’ve ever been with him. His eyes narrow in disappointment, limbs rapidly untangling from your body. You shove him backwards until his knees hit the edge of the table, nudge him again so that he falls against it, and grab a clean scalpel off the side counter. “No, we do deserve to feel those things.” His grin returns in full force—and he laughs.

This time, you don’t hate it.

“Deep down,” he grunts as you hitch a leg over his thighs and climb onto him, “you know that I’m right.” The scalpel’s pointed tip grazes his black tee, cutting through the material meticulously. You run a palm up his broad chest before pressing a finger to his mouth, smearing nearly dried blood across his jaw in the process.

“You talk too much,” the hushed murmur tumbling from your lips doesn’t sound like you, is foreign and twisted, and too much like him to bode well for either of you. The muscles in his thighs tense beneath you, his hard chest rumbling in a silent glee.

Your fingers brush against his cheekbones and you gasp, losing all perception of who you are. It’s absurd, but the individual you knew before, the persona you so adamantly believed you could uphold, crumbles with a single, soft touch of his skin.

And it’s unfair, really, that someone so beautiful—covered in art, blessed with hair the color of sweet wine and a laugh that sounds like music—could be so utterly fucked up.

When you nick his cheek, observing the drip of blood that trickles down, you wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons. And when you lick at it, preening at the groan that leaves him, you wonder if you’re just as fucked up as he is.

All at once, you’re flipped beneath him, back crashing against the cool metal table. He climbs down and drags his pants off, yanks you towards him with one pull of your thighs, and presses against your core. A shiver runs down your spine at the heat, crazes you for something you didn’t think you needed.

“By the way,” Tendō speaks through kisses and nips at your neck, “you are just as fucked up.” Though you hadn’t realized you’d said that aloud, you’re unable to retaliate, only wrap your legs around his middle and moan at a particularly harsh bite. He soothes every spot of broken skin with his tongue, drifting downwards until his lips meet your cotton panties. “How cute.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting thi– Ah,” your complaint is cut short when he moves them to the side and licks a long stripe up your slit. And he doesn’t stop, lapping and sucking at your soaked cunt, holding you down with one lean arm when you writhe in response to the pressure. “God, fuck.”

“Satori, but I’ll take God too,” he smirks against your mound. It’s then that he inserts a lithe finger, then two, stretching you out until you’re tugging at his long locks, goosebumps raised as the warmth of his mouth intertwines with the cold beneath your back.

You’re panting, unconcerned with time or it’s passing, only his fingers, his tongue circling your puffy bud, and your steady ascension to the edge. Just as your legs tense, breath caught mid-mewl of his name, he stops. You lean up on your elbows, rut against him, searching for more—friction, movement, anything—but he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck- why?” Your cry is loud, whiny even, but you don’t particularly care when euphoria’s been ripped away from you so suddenly.

“Tell me I’m right,” he teases, eyes peering straight through yours. You whine again, a mix between a pained groan and ‘are you fucking serious?’ before he flicks at your bud once more. “Say it.”

And you do. Because, as strongly as you've denied it, you’re every bit as perverse as he is, every bit as infatuated by the idea of power, of playing God—of holding a life between your fingertips and choosing death.

The second the words are out of your mouth, he thrusts deep into you. Your fingers scramble for purchase, nails dragging against the table, then his back, as skin slaps against skin.

There’s nothing gentle about Satori, all lean, hard muscle and jagged edges, but the pain is just as blissful as the pleasure. His fingertips rub at your clit, other hand moving to wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly.

“Satori, I- I need more,” you choke out, lightheaded. And he complies, shifting you to your side and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. Your cries melt into his, sweat soaking your skin, your hair, the table, as he pounds into you over and over again.

“That’s it baby– fuck, let go for me.” He presses the long-forgotten scalpel against your throat—and your vision goes white. Electricity sparks through your spine, your tongue lolls out, and you swear you feel tears run down your cheeks.

He doesn’t stop, working you through the orgasm as your legs bind his waist. A few more thrusts and he’s following you, holding your hips against him so tightly, he’ll probably leave deep purple bruises.

He finally stills, chest falling against yours and heaving, allowing you both to catch your breath. Flashing a set of pearly canines, his wild grin and the glint in his eyes reappear. For the first time since you’ve known him, Tendō is completely silent.

And then he laughs, lawless and untamed, the howl of a hyena that sounds like a song—and you laugh too.

[slytherinnbitch]

Accident Part 2

Part 1 of Accident

Exactly 2 days and 17 hours after Malfoy had dissolved their marriage and left, Harry's memory came back. The impact of it was so bad that he was screaming his lungs out by the time a nurse came to check and she immediately called for Healer Malfoy-Potter.

Harry is on the verge on unconsciousness when Malfoy had finally came in, he gives him a vile looking potion and his vision blacks out.

When he woke up again, he was staring at the same white ceiling as always. His head is pounding, he scrunches his face slightly and looks to his left expecting his exasperated husband as always. He finds Hermione instead, with Ron on his other side.

"Where's Draco?" That's the first thing that comes out of his mouth. Hermione looks pained, so he turns to Ron and he has an almost identical expression. And then all of it crashes down on him.

The waking up, and seeing Draco and then oh god- and then taunting him and playing with all his weaknesses and everything that he had vowed to never do again. He had done exactly all that and so much more. Fucking piece of unworthy shit, that's what he is because Merlin he has fucked up so badly that it was surpassing all scales.

And he had asked for a divorce and...and Draco had readily accepted it, as he said....was his faith. And shit shit shit, Reg. What had he told Reg? He needs to grovel at Draco's feet, hopefully he would forgive Harry. And- he can't even think about it anymore.

He closes his eyes, hoping the mortifying feeling would go away. It doesn't. Not even one bit.

"Judging by your reaction, mate. I guess you remember all of it?" Ron asks tentatively, breaking his internal war.

"Yeah fuck."

"I still don't understand why he just did that, why did he listen to you and divorce you?" Hermione inquires because of course she doesn't understand.

"Because that's what he said he would do. He said it at the beginning of the relationship, he'll free me if I ever wanted him to, with no explanations whatsoever. I had told him, he shouldn't hold his breath over that." He smiles ruefully at the memory, Draco had shaked his head at that and kissed him. It had been an excellent day.

"Could either of you just call him? He is my Healer so he must be here, right?" He asks hopefully, something in their eyes tells him that he is very very wrong. They are excused from answering him when Zia enters. She is an assistant to Draco and under his wing, one of his best students.

"Hey Zia!" Harry greets her brightly, just because he is going through internal war doesn't mean he'll just give up his manners.

"Oh, hey Harry. So I conclude your memories are back?" Zia asks somewhat subdued, it's a weird thing on her. She is usually this bright and happy ray of sunshine, so he frowns.

"Yeah. Where's Draco?" he asks directly, she will probably give him a viable answer, but she looks distinctly uncomfortable so he feels the need to clarify, "You know, your boss, my husband and my healer?"

"Yea, yes. He um went home. Asked me to do the last check-up and then you're good to go."

"Did he say something else?" Harry asks because something tells him he is being withheld from information.

"He asked me to appoint you a new Healer because um he isn't going to handle your cases any longer. He was on this one because he was handling it before you asked for someone." Zia says and she looks heartbroken herself, what has he done!

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I tried to talk to him, he just went all cold and didn't listen to a word of mine. Just threatened to fire me and left." Zia continues and boy, his level of fucked knows no levels because Zia is crying now!

"No Zia, please don't cry. I'll... I'll talk to him, alright? Don't do anything just yet? I fucked up real bad this time, just let me leave and I'll try my best." Harry pleads and Zia hiccups softly. She checks his quickly with red eyes and deems him free to leave.

He is out of the doors within an hour with his best friends at his side.

"Mate, just know that we are here and you're more than welcome at ours if Draco kicks you out or anything yeah?" Ron assures him after he tells them that he is going home. Hermione just hugs him one last time before he apparates away, fervently hoping that Draco hasn't locked him out of the wards. The result of apparating inside while being locked out, especially of their customised wards aren't great.

Thankfully he hasn't, because Harry lands just fine on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. The door opens on its own, recognising his magical signature.

Just as he closes the door, he hears the tiny footsteps of his baby boy and yeah there he is, sprinting towards him.

"Papaaaa," Reg cries out as he launches himself into his arms and it grounds him. It gives him peace and then enters Draco. He looks proper as always, no one would be able to tell that he is messed up. But no one is Harry Malfoy-Potter.

He notices the tiny, slightly out of place hair strands out of place. The clenched jaw as he tries to keep himself together and how he unconsciously keeps brushing his left arm.

"I missed you. Dada said he didn't know when you be back." Reg mumbles into his neck, it's mostly gibberish but Harry understands one and half year old pretty well, as he hugs him still, then he looks into his eyes with slight tears and says seriously, "Dada was so sad," and then he hugs him again.

He was gone for almost five days, it aches his heart how much he was missed by his little love and how much he is loved. He locks eyes with Draco then, who has the mask set in place properly again. He arches his eyebrow at Harry, a silent question that he can very well understand. He pleads back silently as well to keep it until they are alone. Draco gets it.

"I missed you too, my reggie-teggie. But guess what I won't be going anywhere now and we would have so much fun, won't we? We'll ride on the broom again all around the house while Dada goes to work, innit?" Harry asks and Reg beams at him, "And I'll try to make sure Dada isn't sad anymore, yeah?" And he nods enthusiastically.

"Alright, bed time now." Draco calls after an eternity passes with Harry listening to Reg bringing him up-to-date with everything that going on in his life. It seems very important.

He still isn't actually talking to Harry, not that he expected anything else.

"Can Papa read me a story?" Reg asks and Draco nods his head so he looks at Harry who does the same and then they go to Reg's room.

.

After he finishes the second story, he looks down beside him to find Reg fast asleep, he slowly and carefully gets out of his bed and tucks him in properly then starts towards the door.

After peering at his sleeping face, Harry closes the door and places a one-way muffiliato charm, so Reg can't hear them but they can still hear him. It would cancel out the minute Reg wakes up and Harry would get an alert. He and Draco had modified it themselves.

He roams around the house in order to find Draco, finally making way into their bedroom where he is sitting with his hands on his lap, waiting for Harry.

He stops breathing as he slowly enters the room. Draco doesn't object so he is fine. When he stops a feet away from Draco. He looks so frail like this, like he hasn't slept or eaten properly in days, he probably hasn't.

"Well, what is it Potter? I would like to sleep." Draco states, his voice ice cold and a slight shiver runs down Harry's spine as he remembers the last time he had been like this. It had been after Harry had gone on a date so many years back, before he came to his senses that is.

"Draco, please. Don't do this." Harry pleads and Draco's eyes flash dangerously.

"You mean I did this? Me, Potter? Me who has been unable to answer my kid why his other father has not come home except for that he is still sick and needs rest? Me who has been-" he stops abruptly and takes a deep, calming breath, "Anyways, my point is I didn't do a thing."

"Draco, you know I don't mean that. And- and I didn't mean any of the shit I said after waking up," Harry tries again, he knows it's futile somewhat but he can't just give up. "I should not have accused you like that. My last self was a number one arsehole."

"Yeah, he was." Draco agrees but he doesn't say anything else.

"I'm sorry that I didn't believe you or my friends or even my own self, I should have." Harry sighs and rubs his eyes under glasses.

Draco remains silent.

"Talk to me, dammit! Shout at me, scream, tell, punch, hex whatever you want to. Just- just don't keep so quiet, it's so much more hurting than the others, please Draco." he snaps after almost two minutes of complete silence.

"And what would you like me to tell you? That I forgive you and you're welcome back in my life? Is that what you think would happen when you came here?" Draco taunts and shit if he doesn't deserve it.

"Because that's not going to happen," Draco continues, he meets Draco's eyes with all his guilt and regret and he feels Draco's barriers snapping, "What to know why, Harry? I don't care because I'm going to tell you anyway." Draco says casually and Harry prepares himself for it.

"Because you fucking dissolved our marriage vows, you utter bastard! You just went and dissolved everything we had the moment you got to know that we were married! And how bloody dare you ask for my rings?" Draco shouts at him, he has tears in his eyes but he keeps on, "Do you know that mother noticed that the tapestry suddenly didn't have your name tied to mine? Just to Reg? She did and so did father. She told me so when I went to pick up Reg. Do you even want to what hell father told me? How he always knew I was wrong and how you would leave me one day and- and now I had a fucking child to my name all alone and he knew I would be a fuck up all along? Do you have any idea what that did to me? How difficult it was for me to keep a facade infront of Reg. Do you, Harry?" He looks at Harry, waiting for an answer.

"I don't..."

"Of course you don't. You have no bloody clue, and you know what you don't need to. You can fuck off whenever you want and I won't stop you. Who the fuck would I be, wasn't that what you said?" Draco rages on, then he says it again, it comes out utterly broken, "Who the fuck, indeed?" And then he sobs, openly, all masks gone.

Harry can't help but move forward and hug him tightly. He is crying himself as Draco tries to wretch himself free.

"Let me go, you prick. Utter prick, with no fucking-" Draco says against himself and Harry shushes him gently.

"Shh, darling. I'm here, I'm sorry but I'm here now, love." Draco struggles some more before he gives up and hugs Harry back tightly. He can't breathe but who needs that when they have Draco Malfoy-Potter in their arms.

When they finally pull apart, Draco's eyes are red and he is still hiccuping.

"I love you," Harry says softly as he caresses his cheek. Draco leans on his hand and mouths the words back.

"You are still not forgiven, just so you know." Draco says and Harry doesn't know what he shall do. He'll do anything, murder if he has to.

"How can I earn it?"

"Do something about our marriage and I'll think about it." Draco replies after a moment of thinking.

"Marry me, again? It's our anniversary in 12 days. We can do it then." Harry suggests, and a small smile seems to tug at Draco's lips.

"And whoever said that I'll marry you. That too for the second time. One time was enough, don't you think?" Draco teases, and he knows he did the right thing this once.

"A million times again, and it still won't be enough."

"Let's keep it to two, yeah?" Draco suggests as he draws Harry close.

"Promise." Harry says and seals it with a kiss. They are going to be okay, again, he thinks as he drowns himself in Draco's love.

Have at your happy ending, sad ending would have been nice but I value my life a little. Tagging @moramystery @cupofsquirrelfan @justthingsfromsarah because y'all specifically asked for a sequel. Altho this isn't all that angsty.

[please-buckme]

A Broken Heart.

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter 2

Chapter warnings: 18+ mentions of death, mentions of sex, cursing, Lee being an ass, angst, meninist behaviors

Chapter summary: You move back home after three years to find your heart still in shambles.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

3 Years Later

After moving a whole county away, Highland Ohio to be exact, you stayed for quite some time. Your aunt was amazing and the sweetest woman you’d ever known, and living with her was a breeze. She’d even gotten you a job at the auto shop her recently deceased husband left to her, which you loved. Life was good, for a while. You never had a reason to come home until your momma got sick.

For the past year you watched as your momma slowly faded away until the last week of April when she finally passed in her sleep. You were devastated, of course, but not only because of her death. She didn’t have much to her name besides a couple thousand in the bank and the house you’d left so long ago, which she left all to you.

The house was old. White paneling a faint tint of brown, grey shutters that were almost all off their hinges and rust anywhere you looked. It was a fixer upper and there’s no way you could sell it in its current condition. So, you decided to move back to Knockemstiff, just for the time being.

In all honesty, you’d grown to hate that town. Nothing but bad memories and any good memories you’d had were tarnished completely. So, once the house was decent enough to sell, you were out of there and back to the life you’d created in Highland.

Your aunt and you drove together in her pick up truck back to the house after your momma passed. She helped you unload your stuff and take things to the necessary rooms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can make my famous pancakes. I know you love’em.” She grinned.

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m fine. Please, I insist you go now before it gets dark.” You pull your aunt into a hug, a tight hug.

“I’m gonna miss havin’ you around, kiddo.” She sighed, her breath fanning over your neck.

“It’s only for a few months. I’ll be back to annoying you in no time, oldie.”

“Hey, I’m not old.” She laughed and pointed her finger at you sternly but still in a lighthearted way.

“And I’m not a kid.”

She laughed a little more then sighed, “Well, I guess I’ll head out. Call me if you need anything and don’t forget to go down to Billy’s tomorrow. He’s excited to bring you in.”

You smiled, “How could I forget? I need some sort of income to fix this craphole up.”

You walked your aunt to her car and waved her goodbye as she drove way. Your eyes welled up but you made sure not to cry in front of her or she’d never leave.

Once you went back in, you immediately got to work. Starting in the kitchen, you didn’t have much but a few coffee cups. The house was still occupied with your momma’s things and you were already dreading having to go through it all.

Things started to come together room by room as you worked most of the day away. You cleaned and rearranged things to your liking now that it was your house. It felt almost empowering to do what you want. You’d never lived alone so, in a way, this was an adventure as well.

You took your old room instead of the master, since that’s where your momma passed. It gave you goosebumps just thinking about and you knew you’d never get any sleep if you stayed in there. Your room wasn’t big but it was good enough for now and much better than sleeping in your momma’s death bed, hard pass.

You’d taken a seat on the couch with some tea you’d brewed up earlier that morning. This was the first time you sat down since arriving, and of course there’s a knock at the door.

“Whatever you’re selling, I promise you, I ain’t interested.” You shout, too exhausted to even attempt getting up.

The knocking continued, “Oh, for fucks sake.” You groaned under your breath and stood on your aching feet to tell them to fuck off in person. You opened the door, “did you not hear me the first time. I said-“

“Hi, Y/n” Lee greeted as he removed his hat.

You scoffed, “Can I help you with somethin’, Sheriff?”

Lee stood there, fiddling with the bill of his hat. His belly had gotten a little bigger and his cheeks had gotten a little chubbier, but you couldn’t help the hitch in your throat when his wedding ring caught your eye. Just a basic silver band, nothing special. But it still left a hollow pit in your stomach.

“I-“ he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I heard you was back in town. Thought I’d come see for ma self if the rumors were true.”

“Welp, here I am. You can go now.”

“Y/n, I-“

“No, Lee, please. I’ve had a long day and I honestly don’t feel like talking to you right now. No, I take that back. I don’t feel like talking to you at all.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think, doll.” He grins.

“Goodbye, Sheriff.” You shut the door only to hear him holler at you from the other side.

“Still can’t say my name, huh, Doll? Boy, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” Your heart sank at his words. It seemed your pain was a joke to him this whole time. You’d always pictured him crying alone like you were but clearly that was never the case. Y’all’s relationship didn’t seem one sided until you were the only one hurt by the fall out.

“Welcome home, Y/n.” He said before you heard his boots click against the porch as he left.

You took a deep breath as you backed away from the door. Tears rimmed your eyes and you scoffed aloud to yourself. After three years you still weren’t over him and you knew that. You didn’t know, however, that he’d still have such a hold on you. And by the way he reacted to how sensitive you were towards the situation still didn’t help the ever growing void that ran through your entire loveless body. The only man you ever loved looked at you as if you were a quick fuck and a punchline.

A tear burned against your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. You swore to yourself that you’d never cry over that man again and you won’t, instead you decided it was time for a much needed bath.

The bath was scolding hot, just how you liked it, and you opened up a bottle of wine as a sort of reward for the work you’d done today. Once the water got cold and the wine ran out, you brushed your hand and teeth and went to bed.

//

The sun beamed down against your skin as you walked to the local auto shop where your aunt had set you up with another job. You were always good with numbers and they desperately needed someone on the books. Your job would be to look at their spending over the last few months and figure out some sort of budget. You did that for your aunt at her shop, so this didn’t worry you at all.

“Hi, you must be Billy.” You greet the owner, “I’m

y/n, Peggy’s niece.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you finally made it down.” He beamed, shaking your hand, “How long will you be here for?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Just until I get my house fixed up enough to sell.” You say, retracting your hand from his sweaty one.

“Ah, well as luck would have it, our secretary just quit on us last week, so there’s a position you’ll adjust to right fine.”

You scoffed, “Wait a minute. Did you say secretary?”

“Yeah. You need to get your hearing checked, Honey?” He grinned. What is it with the men in this town?!

“No, I heard you just fine. My problem is that I was supposed to be your Budget Holder, not a damn secretary.” Your face was turning a touch of pink as you became increasingly annoyed.

“That’s a man's job, sweetie. We don’t you blown a fuse tryin’ ta add up all them numbers, now do we?”

“You can’t be serious.” You say flatly.

“Look, it’s the only position we got. Take it or leave it.”

Everything in you wanted to March out of that shop and never go back again. A secretary's position is nothing to frown upon, but to only be offered it because you’re a woman was despicable. Sadly, you needed this job and it would only be for a few months. So, when you told him you’d take the job you swallowed every ounce of respect you had for yourself. Knockemstiff was truly the worst town in America.

“Sounds great. We’ll see you tomorrow for training. There’s no dress code but there are a few things you’ll need to know before starting. I’ll fill you in once we start your training tomorrow.” He shook your hand again, completely ignoring the furious grimace on your face.

“Great. See you tomorrow.” You mumbled, walking away so you didn’t ‘accidentally’ hit your new boss.

//

Before heading home you decided to stop and grab some things for the house. Being sick, your momma didn’t eat much besides soup, and there was an over abundance of vanilla flavored Ovaltine cans littering the kitchen counters, which you hated.

The second the doors opened, all eyes were on you. You even heard a faint gasp coming from the woman at the register. A smirk crept upon your face. These people's lives were so boring that they still aren’t over your breakup that happened so long ago. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a cart and headed down the produce aisle.

Once you grabbed the vegetables you’d need for a stew, you headed towards the baking aisle. You need the ingredients for an upside down pineapple cake your momma used to make for you as a kid. Your aunt was coming into town on Saturday to lend a hand and celebrate her birthday. You told her to go have fun, but she insisted on spending her special day with you.

As you searched for the baking soda, you heard your name.

“Did you see Y/n’s back in town?” A lady with a high pitched voice whispered.

“I did. I just saw her. Poor thing. She’s probably still caught up on the sheriff. Prolly wish it was her that was on his arm instead of Laura-Jean.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I know it. Wouldn’t you, though? He’s so handsome.” The lady with the high patched voice giggled.

“Oh, hush! Don’t say things like that.” The other lady joined the high pitched one in whispered giggles. “Oh my goodness, here he comes.” She cleared her throat, “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

“Evenin’,Ladies. Y’all behavin’ yourselves?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

They both giggled and in unison said, “Yes, Sheriff.”

“Oh give me a break.” You grimaced to yourself.

“Heard Y/n’s back in town.” The high pitched one spoke up. Your face burned. Why would they bring you up to him so bluntly like that? Everyone in this town was so unbelievably nosy.

“I- I heard. Actually just went to see her yesterday.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Uh-oh, the misses didn’t like that, I’m sure.” They giggled.

“Oh, no. She didn’t mind. I was just droppin’ by to give her my condolences about her momma dyin’. Then, she slammed the door in my face. I guess she’s still pretty upset with me.” He was pouting, trying to get some sort of sympathy. If you rolled your eyes any harder you thought they’d pop out of your head.

“Oh, you poor thing. Is there anything we can-“

Suddenly the baking soda slipped from your hand and scattered all other the floor in a puff of dust. “Shit, shit, shit.” You whispered to yourself.

“What was that?” One of the ladies asked.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Lee said. You could hear his boots clacking against the floor on there way over to you.

Shit.

You desperately wanted to run away but leaving this mess for someone to clean up wasn’t right, not even with the predicament you found yourself in. “Well, well, well,” Lee mocked as he rounded the corner. “Only here for less than a day and you’re already causin’ trouble.”

“Stay out of this, Bodecker.” You huff, trying to scoop the baking soda back into the card box it spilled from.

“Was you eavesdroppin’, girl?” He asked, kicking the soul of your shoe.

You scoffed, “Oh, please. I could give two shits what you say about me, Bodecker.”

He leaned in close, hovering over your left side. You heard him chuckle which startled you. He was so close. You could feel the familiar heat radiating from his body and smell that familiar cologne. His lips came down close to your ear. He licked them and then whispered, “If ya weren’t eavesdroppin’, how’d ya know I was talkin’ bout you, hm?”

Your eyes shuttered closed as he spoke, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. His deep southern drawl always made you weak. It took you back to those times in the back of the cruiser. He whispered such dirty praises in your ear when you would ride his cock. Those dirty words that could make you cum in seconds.

“You still with me, doll?” You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You flitched and stood up, “I- don’t touch me and stop calling me doll, alright? I really don’t have time for your games today, sheriff, and I’m not even really sure what you’re playin’ at in the first place.”

He smirked, running a thumb across his lip, “Darlin, I think the only thing I ever played was you..”

“I-“ your breath hitched in the back of your throat, “I have to go.” You turned to walk away, leaving the mess you’d made and your cart behind. Your eyes welled up with tears again. You didn’t know the man that stood in front of you. Lee was nothing but good to you when you dated and now he’s the most hateful man you’d ever met. The man you loved had disappeared and there’s nothing you could do to bring him back, no matter how bad you wanted to. A tear stained your cheek as you sped through the aisle. You could hear Lee hollering for you to stop but you wouldn’t this time.

All the heartbreak and sorrow that you’d left behind was creeping its way back in. The sooner you sold the house and got the hell out of there, the better.

Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness

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