#anyway this show is still making me have FEELINGS

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: ghostface, yandere, prank calls, threats, implied kidnapping, implied noncon

♡ FEM reader

It was already past midnight. And you, despite your half-mast eyes, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch, too lazy to get up.

Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you, not much to your interest, or at least not enough to keep you awake, but enough to act as white noise you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.

You were beginning to drool on your pillow, struggling with the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting, pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.

Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped some time ago, along with your phone, that suddenly, just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off, started to ring.

Startled awake, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loudly beneath you, like an alarm clock was going off. However, by the looks of the pitch-black darkness outside the window, it was visibly still the middle of the night.

You groaned then, both out of ire and a bit of relief—happy you could fall asleep again without needing to worry, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason. 

Deliberating it for a small moment, you thought it might be a friend with some silly emergency and were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way—where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it. Stating under your breath that whoever it was owed you big time.

Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”

You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it—all in all, at least a whiney drunken voice belonging to a friend—but none of the sort was at the other end of the line.

“Hello,” a dark voice replied—audibly altered by a scrambler.

It startled you—enough to make your eyes open at least—still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think too much of it just yet.

“Who’s this?” you asked.

“Who’s this?” he echoed back, making your brows further scrunch. 

“You’re the one calling?” you said in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID, which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.

“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine,” he offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.

And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit too late for you to be in the mood.

“I’m a little too sleepy for pranks right now—sorry. Try again tomorrow, bye,” you managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.

Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” the same voice asked through the phone, now a little whiney, though obviously playing it up.

The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking for a bit. You were awake now anyway, and you couldn't exactly deny being a little intrigued. After all, given that he was using a voice scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.

And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before getting up and brushing your teeth. And so, you ask, “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

And it answered, “No~” still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.

“Well, my mother taught me better,” you joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up.

Not knowing exactly who was on the other end made you feel all giddy, head spinning over who it might be, whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night—to you, of all people.

“Oh, come on, aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” he flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor, now keeping it close to your chest as if you were a teenager whispering naughty things to your boyfriend in the dead of night so that your parents wouldn't hear.

“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” you say slowly and coyly, rolling over onto your back before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?” 

A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again, “What are you wearing?”

You paused at that, cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. Looking down at your drab pajamas, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Hm…”

Pondering for a moment, you smile.

“Sexy lingerie~” you lie through your teeth, trying hard to keep from laughing as you put on your best mock-sultry voice.

“I don’t like liars,” the man answered. “I know you’re in your jammies.”

You pouted then. “Okay, fine—you caught me.” 

“Still sexy, though,” he added, making you giggle again.

“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger. You aren't stalking me, are you?” you ask in a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone, eager for his reply.

Only his answer isn't very nice. “You’re the one begging for it, whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”

Your eyes widened, skin taken by a cold rush. In the same way you'd react when spotting a mosquito on your arm, you abruptly slapped the phone and hung up.

His voice had changed, turned darker, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly sour, it left a foul taste in your mouth that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even having amused it in the first place.

But once again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time. 

“Don’t hang up on me,” the same voice demanded.

And while both fed up and put off, you sighed with a huff, voice sharp, asking him, “What do you want?”

“Don't be like that. I told you already, I only want to know your name~” he said, his playful tone of voice back again—only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.

“Why do you want to know my name?” you bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone, and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.

“Well… ‘cause…” he began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed-off until he uttered the next line, only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You went cold, and colder than cold with a chill running sharply down your spine. 

Sitting up slowly, eyes alert, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows, viewing the darkness outside.

“Oh, you look cute when you’re scared~” he continued, making you jump to your feet and stomp over to the first window, frantically drawing the curtains one after the other until none remained.

“Quit calling,” you finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.

However, seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. But this time, you let it ring, deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped. 

You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.

You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up, not out of fear, but anger.

“I told you not to hang up on me!” he yelled, and you snarled in turn.

“Listen, asshole-”

“No, you listen, you stupid bitch—” he interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop out of your skull!”

You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”

“Tch—” he scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Crackling harshly through the scrambler, louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance, “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”

There was a crash of glass somewhere upstairs, and you flinched while withholding a scream. 

Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door. 

Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tightly in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police—while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.

You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before and the eerie staircase leading up to the earlier crash—ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart. 

As you turn around again, you hear shoes coming thundering down the stairs as you take a rushed step without yet facing forward. You had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only, instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent backwards into the house again, stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince. 

Your phone slipped from your hand, not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well—now utterly useless.

A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame. At the same time, there's a tall presence behind you clad in the exact same way. Screaming white mask and all.

“Silly bitch,” the one in front said nonchalantly, stepping inside—shoulders broad and boots heavy.

The one behind laughed, bringing forth a large knife that made your life flash vividly before your very eyes.

“Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”

♡ BNHA – Kiri-Baku, Shiga-Dabi, Dabi-Hawks, Kiri-Denki, Shin-Baku ♡ JJK – Suku-Jaku, Suku-Go, Sato-Sugu, Ken-Hito ♡ HQ – KuroTsuki, KuroLev, IwaKyo, Miya twins, ♡ BLLK – NagiReo, RinSae, RyuSae

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[okaylikeschaewon]

Unravel

~8.5k words, TPM Book 3, Part 2, smut, Series Masterlist

“A text would have been nice.”

“I said I’m sorry,” you pleaded – a feeble attempt to make her understand. “It was spontaneous, I didn’t plan on staying the night.”

“Oh? You didn’t plan on staying the night?” Sana mocked your voice, crossing her arms tightly. “Great, that makes two of us.”

“Sweetie–”

“Don’t ‘sweetie’ me right now,” Sana snapped, her eyes shooting daggers at you. “I really don’t think I’m asking for too much. You changed your mind and decided you wanted to fuck another member, fine, all I’m asking is for a bit of a heads-up so I don’t spend my whole evening waiting for you. Is that unreasonable? Am I the one being unreasonable right now?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Did you sleep with her?” Sana asked directly, not an ounce of hesitation in her voice.

“Well…”

“It’s a pretty straightforward question,” Sana hissed. “Did you put your dick in her or not?”

“Technically–”

Sana turned around and stomped off before you could explain. “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath before sitting on the couch and pulling out her phone.

“Sana!” you called out after her, following her into the living room and sitting next to her. “Tzu had some personal stuff happen, I had to be there for her.”

“I’m not upset with Tzu,” Sana replied coldly without looking up from her phone. “She’s not the one who broke a promise.”

“I didn’t mean to–”

“Well, you did, whether or not you meant to,” she replied, her tone sharp as her fingers aggressively scrolled through nothingness on her phone. “It would have been fine if you just said you weren’t in the mood. You literally could have told me you’d rather fuck one of the others and I wouldn’t have cared.”

“Sana, it’s not that I didn’t want to,” you emphasized again while reaching out to her.

“Don’t touch me, I’m still mad at you,” she slapped your arm away lightly as she sulked. “Or, fuck, you could have just made up something. Anything. It’s not like I don’t know you have to fuck them whenever they ask. But no, you couldn’t even give me a call, or a text, or a fucking pigeon for all I care.”

“A pigeon?”

“It’s not like I just went through a whole fucking emotional roller coaster yesterday. It’s not like I wanted my boyfriend’s comfort.”

“I thought we weren’t using those terms–”

“Fine, fuckbuddy, side-bitch, roommate, whatever you wanna call it, I don’t care!” Sana shouted, tossing her phone aside. “It’s not like you’re acting like a boyfriend right now anyway.”

“You’re right, I’m not worthy,” you dropped down to your knees in front of her and playfully bowed your head in shame. “Forgive me, my queen.”

“Get up, stop being dumb,” Sana rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth betraying her livid demeanor for a brief moment. “This won’t work.”

“Do I need to kiss your precious feet? To show you how sorry I am?”

“Don’t you fucking dare put your mouth on my feet,” Sana replied sternly, pulling away. “Get. Up. Here.”

“Only if you promise to stop being mad at me.”

“Does it even matter if I do? Apparently promises don’t mean anything in your world,” Sana shot back.

“Alright, I deserved that one,” you smiled, standing back up and holding your arms out, waiting for her permission. She really took a moment to contemplate, to make you sweat, before she nodded just slightly, letting you cuddle up next to her. “I understand you’re upset with me, I fucked up, you’re right,” you added gently as you held her. “Yesterday was a tough day, a lot happened with the contract stuff.”

“It was tough for me, too,” Sana responded quietly, dropping her shoulders and staring at you with soft eyes. “I get that you had to deal with Tzu’s thing, but really, I didn’t expect to feel so neglected.”

“No and that’s completely valid, I fucked up. I should have at least called.”

“Maybe I’m being sensitive–”

“You’re not,” you reassured her before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

“I appreciate it, but that’s not necessary,” Sana gave you a faint smile. Her frustration quickly faded away, her tone softened, and her body language relaxed. “How’s she doing by the way? Did you get her situation sorted out?”

“Not really, I’ll have to stop by the offices,” you answered, your insides burning hot again at the thought of what happened. “That’s my problem to worry about though. Tell me, what do you want to do tonight? I can make a reservation somewhere if you want.”

“There’s actually this place Dahyun and I wanted to try, apparently their naengmyeon is really good,” Sana replied with a hint of excitement in her voice, without any of the anger from earlier.

“Sounds good, send me the name and I’ll make the reso’,” you replied, setting a reminder in your phone. “Hey, so I have like half an hour before I have to go pick up Nayeon…”

Sana waited patiently for you to continue, a frown on her face, daring you to suggest it.

“What do you say? Shall we have some fun and make up for last night?” you asked with a teasing smile.

“You think it’s going to be that easy?” Sana feigned annoyance. “A few words and you get to do whatever you want with me again? Just like that?”

“I mean, I was ready to suck your toes.”

“Stop,” Sana whined with a smile that absolutely melted you. “We both know how much you hate foot stuff.”

“Yeah, but, anything for you,” you replied, leaning closer and slowly snaking your hand around Sana’s body. “What do you say? Quick one?”

“No,” she whispered back quietly. “We’ll see after dinner, and don’t you even dare think about spending tonight with another member.”

—

A few days later

“You sure it’s alright?” Nayeon asked, unable to hide how bad she felt. “I’m really sorry, you know how these things are.”

“Nayeon, I get it, this type of shit happens almost every day,” you gave her an encouraging smile. “Finish up whatever you have left, just text me when you’re done.”

“I’ll make it up to you after, I promise,” she winked.

“It’s fine, and stop feeling bad, seriously,” you chuckled. “Now go, I’m so proud of you.”

She nodded enthusiastically before turning around and running back into the practice room. This past week has been tough for Nayeon, she really got no breaks. On top of all the group activities, she still had to work on her solo projects. Ever since the contract fiasco from a few days ago, Nayeon has been working overtime basically every single day; You couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for her.

That was part of why you decided to volunteer so much when it came to helping her out. Obviously someone else could drop her off, but you knew she was more comfortable with you. And, well, it did come with some benefits that you were particularly fond of; Nayeon had become the type of girl who would manage her stress by getting horny – and you were her solution.

Even now, as you walked the empty hallways of the JYP offices, you couldn’t help but daydream about what you knew Nayeon would ask for the second she finished working. During the days you had Nayeon, and in the evenings you had Sana – the last few days have honestly been pretty great in that regard.

“Oh!” you were knocked out of your daydream as you stumbled into a small figure. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No, it’s my fault,” the girl quickly bowed respectfully towards you before looking up at you and freezing.

That’s when you recognized her.

“Oh, Yeji, how’s everything?”

She stared at you, almost as if she was trying to remember you, her mind still somewhat out of it. “Are you…” she mumbled softly.

“Am I?” you cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly bowed again before shaking out of her little trance. “I just thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“We’ve met very briefly at a couple of company events, but I don’t think we’ve ever properly spoken,” you explained. It was true, you obviously knew who she was, but you’ve never had the opportunity to really talk to her. Truthfully, she caught your eye the most in her group – the sharp expression she regularly wore and that fit body just always resonated with you. “I’m one of Twice’s managers.”

“Ah, right, you–” she suddenly stopped talking and began shifting around nervously. “Right, anyway, I’m doing alright. What about you? Where are you heading? It’s kinda late, no?”

“Well, I planned to go talk to some people about some manager stuff, but I don’t think anyone’s in the office at this time,” you answered while checking to see if you had any replies on your phone. You had sent a few messages earlier in hopes that you could get this picture thing figured out for Tzuyu, but all you saw was a text from Nayeon saying she’d be another hour. “I guess now I’m just waiting for Nayeon, going to find somewhere to kill an hour. What about you? What are you doing here so late?”

“Oh, nothing in particular, honestly, I kinda just came here to relax for a bit after our schedules. Sometimes it’s a bit more peaceful here than at our dorms.”

“I can imagine,” you smiled comfortingly. “Busy day?”

“Every day’s a busy day,” she smiled back before an odd look flashed across her face. She very clearly had something on her mind and didn’t know how to say it.

“Well–” you began before being interrupted.

“Would you like to grab coffee for a bit?” she blurted out as her cheeks immediately flushed red. “I just mean if you have nothing to do, I could use some company.”

“Uh,” you hesitated, a little confused by the whole interaction. “Yeah sure, why not.”

“Cool,” Yeji replied before awkwardly pausing.

“Shall we?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” she quickly turned around and started walking towards the elevators.

One of the benefits of working in an idol-filled building was the constant opportunity to see stunning women – and Yeji was among the best. Those accentuated curves in the little crop-top jacket she had on, and her perfect legs in those casual, skin-tight jeans, it all looked fucking amazing. Even though you were trying to be courteous and professional, you couldn't help but notice how her ass swayed with every step.

“It’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” Yeji began, glancing over her shoulder. “We’ve worked at the same company for so long, yet we’ve never properly talked.”

“Hm?” you quickly averted your attention from Yeji’s hips and sped up to walk next to her. “Yeah, it’s a big company though.”

“That’s true, but still.”

“You know that I know about your group, right?” you chuckled as you followed her into the elevator. “It’s not like I don’t know you exist. I still listen to all your music and whatnot.”

“Oh yeah, do you have a favorite member?” she grinned as she leaned against the elevator wall with her arms crossed. “And is it me?”

“Okay, I don’t think you’ll believe me, but it’s actually you.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you,” she chuckled, stepping out of the elevator in front of you. “But thanks.”

“No, seriously,” you quickly followed behind her. “That River cover? Chef’s kiss. I’ve been a fan since before I joined, actually.”

“Oh?” she turned to you with a curious smile. “Really?”

“Even before I joined the company, I always enjoyed watching fancams,” you continued, “and I’m not ashamed to admit it, I’ve watched a lot of yours.”

“Please, you’re going to make me blush.”

“I’m not kidding. You’re a phenomenal dancer. Also, keep this between us, you have the sexiest eyes I have ever seen.”

“Alright, now I’m actually blushing,” Yeji giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Don’t do that, I love your smile. Don’t hide it.”

“I didn’t realize Twice’s manager was so flirty,” Yeji smiled warmly as she navigated the coffee machine’s menus.

“And I didn’t realize how pretty you were up close,” you smiled back.

“Stop,” Yeji whined, stretching out the word with an unwavering smile on her lips. “Do you treat the Twice members like this, too?”

“No, of course not, I’m strictly professional,” you lied.

“Are you?” Yeji shot you a glance as she picked up her mug.

There was a subtle, but noticeable, tonal shift in the air between the two of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked as you began making a cup for yourself.

“I don’t know,” Yeji toyed with the handle of her mug. “I’ve just heard things.”

“Things?”

“Yeah, things.”

Did she know? you thought to yourself. “Care to elaborate?” you inquired as you picked up your drink and gestured towards one of the tables.

Yeji nodded, and the two of you sat down together, nothing but the steam from your coffees blocking the firm gaze she had on you. “I’ve heard you and some of the members might have…”

“You can tell me, it’s fine,” you encouraged her to continue.

“Okay there was this one time when I overheard one of the members saying something about you… something that I wasn’t sure if I heard correctly.”

“Is that why you gave me that look earlier?”

“What look?”

“Yeji,” you sighed, smiling down at your cup of coffee. “Alright, I think we can stop beating around the bush. Yes, I’ve slept with some of the members, and you obviously know.”

“As in multiple?” Yeji gasped, her cat-like eyes shooting open.

“Do you wanna get on the intercom?”

“Sorry,” Yeji whispered, leaning in closer to you. “Multiple?”

“Seems like you didn’t know everything. Okay, I’ve slept with all of them,” you answered honestly, “it's part of my job. There, now you know.”

Yeji leaned back in her chair, staring at you as she contemplated your words. Even though there was a long pause, and obvious shock on her face, she didn’t seem to be looking at you negatively. Rather, it seemed to come more from a place of curiosity. She took a moment to properly digest what you had revealed to her before she spoke again.

“Why don’t we get a manager like that?”

“What?” you nearly choked on your sip. That was the last thing you expected her to say. “Is that what you want?” you laughed, putting down your mug again.

“I just mean like, that’s genius,” Yeji continued while casually sipping her drink. “As far as I know, none of the girls have been with a guy, but we’re still… you know,” she flashed a shy smile. “They’re constantly asking me about it.”

“Asking you?”

“Yeah, but I’ve only done it once, and I really can’t tell them much.”

“Oh?”

“What?” Yeji tilted her head slightly as if confused by your reaction. “After what you just told me, I don’t think I need to hide anything from you. It goes without saying, please don’t tell anyone, obviously. I had to be pretty sneaky about it.”

“My lips are sealed as long as yours are,” you replied while pretending to zip them. “Wait, but are you serious about wanting a similar arrangement? I might be able to talk to someone about it, and due to some recent events I ended up moving pretty high in the company.”

“Could you?” her eyes lit up. “I don’t really know how that works though, did all the girls have to approve of you or something first?”

“Uh,” you pondered her question. “Honestly, I never really thought about it, but they probably did?”

“I see,” she cupped her mug with both hands and began thinking. “You know what, maybe hold off on that part. Let me at least talk to the girls about what they want.”

“Fair enough, reach out whenever.”

“Speaking of,” Yeji pulled out her phone, “can I get your number then?”

“Yeah, of course,” you typed it in for her before handing it back. “I can’t say I expected my evening to go like this, but this was nice. Unexpected, but nice.”

“Agreed! I just feel somewhat comfortable around you. I can’t really explain it.”

“Thank you, and I think I get it, because I’m pretty sure I feel the same way about you. I rarely tell anyone about my job – for obvious reasons.”

“Funny how things work sometimes,” Yeji smiled gently. “How many people know?”

“Very few. Plus you now, I guess.”

“Right,” she chuckled. “Well, no one outside of my members knows that I’m not a virgin, so I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Like I said earlier, my lips are sealed.”

Yeji leaned in closer to you, lowering her voice some more. “Mind if I ask you something kinda personal? Since you’re probably a bit experienced and I don’t really have many people I can talk to about this type of thing.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Is it supposed to hurt?”

This was the most concerned she had looked throughout this entire conversation.

“Well, you see,” you leaned in a bit closer, “everyone’s different, but yeah the first time can hurt.”

“I see,” Yeji drummed her fingers against her mug.

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I assume your first time wasn’t great?”

“What gave that away?” Yeji smiled with a small shake of her head. “No, it honestly just hurt more than anything. I think it felt good for him?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I hope you’re not discouraged. It’s not like it’s your fault, most people find the first time kinda sucks.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you gave her a reassuring smile. “You just have to find the right person, someone who’s compatible with you.”

“I definitely rushed it just for the sake of trying,” Yeji confessed. “Nothing against the guy, but he was also pretty inexperienced.”

“That happens, especially when people get into their first relationship.”

“I wish it was a relationship,” Yeji laughed, leaning back in her chair. “It was a stupid hookup with an old acquaintance. Like I said, I rushed it.”

“Ah, well, don’t feel bad about it. Can’t change the past, and you definitely wouldn’t be the only person who rushed it.”

“You’re right,” Yeji sighed before taking another sip. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer, even if the others aren’t interested.”

“Absolutely, you have my number, text me whenever,” you smiled.

Yeji smiled back – she really did have an adorable one. “Alright, my ride came early and is actually waiting for me, I should probably get going.”

“Alright Yeji,” you stood up and held your hand out. “It has been a pleasure finally getting to meet you properly.”

“Likewise! I’m sure I’ll be in touch soon.”

—

“Ugh. Fuck. I’ve needed this so much,” Nayeon moaned over her shoulder at you.

“You and me both,” you grunted as you slammed your hips into Nayeon’s pussy from behind.

She held onto the headrest for deal life as the sound of you clapping her cheeks echoed throughout the parking garage. Thankfully it was late enough for no one to bother you, but at this point even if someone walked by, you really didn’t give a fuck. This wasn’t the first time in the past week since the contract renewals that you’ve taken Nayeon in the parking garage, and the risk never seemed like enough to deter either of you.

This was Nayeon’s stress relief. Ever since she went full-force into her solo activities, she had become more stressed than ever, so whenever you would pick her up you’d end up with your cock in her. It was a daily activity at this point. Sometimes you’d make it back to the apartment first, usually you wouldn’t – you’ve discovered more secret sex rooms in the office this week than ever before.

“Ah, shit,” Nayeon cried out, tensing the leg she was balancing on as it trembled, nearly falling to the ground.

“Just a bit more,” you moaned back as you grabbed her hips for support, pushing even deeper into her pussy. “Fuck, you’re making such a mess.”

“Sorry,” she gasped before shoving one of her hands between her legs and showing how little she actually cared about the apology. She rubbed her clit as hard as she could, and within seconds she ended up sending streams all over the concrete next to where you were parked. “Oh fuck baby that’s good!”

The slapping was muffled by a wetness that only Nayeon could bring, each thrust of your cock into her pussy earning a fresh wave. You wanted to pull out, just for a second, to see her spray like a hose all over everything – but she felt too fucking good right now. You couldn’t stop, your hips had a mind of their own.

“Nayeon, I’m about to…” you tightened your grip on her hips and pushed forward as hard as you could until you felt the warmth shoot out of your cock, “...cum.”

“I can feel it,” Nayeon moaned, slowly moving her ass back and forward against your cock, squeezing out all of you cum with her pussy.

Once your cock stopped twitching, you slowly eased out of her, admiring the fountain of wetness dripping out of her pussy and straight onto the concrete below. Nayeon quickly turned around and took a seat, trying to keep her pants – which were bunched around one of her ankles – out of the puddle she had left next to your car.

“I love how I don’t even have to tell you anymore,” you smiled as you stepped up right in front of her.

“Not hard to remember when this is a daily activity,” Nayeon smiled, pressing her hand against her pussy again and opening her mouth wide for you.

“Good girl,” you moaned as you placed your cock into her mouth and grabbed the back of her head gently.

Nayeon went to work with her tongue, collecting any and everything she could off your cock, thoroughly cleaning it while fingering herself in the process. She got to do most of the movement herself, assisted only by the occasional thrust of your hips as you twitched your sensitive cock deeper into her mouth, all the way to the base.

“How’d recording go?” you mumbled under your breath while stroking Nayeon’s hair back.

She sat up straight and let your cock slip out of her mouth, and she wrapped her slender fingers around your balls, fondling them slowly. “Not bad, I’ll probably need a couple more days before I switch up and focus on the group concert.”

“If you ever want a break, we can arrange something.”

“This is my break,” she leaned forward and gave your tip a small kiss before letting go and leaning back in her seat.

“Fine with me,” you chuckled, pulling up your pants. You walked around the back of your car and sat down in the driver seat. “I love this new version of you.”

“What new version?” Nayeon grunted as she toyed herself with her pussy pointing out her open door.

“The one that’s always horny,” you leaned over the center and wrapped a hand around Nayeon’s mouth. “You’re going to get us caught if you keep making all that noise.”

She moaned something into your hand, something along the lines of ‘fuck you’, but her frustration didn’t last long as you slipped your other hand down between her legs.

If anyone was to enter the parking garage at this moment they would be greeted by a full view of Nayeon’s pussy, but she didn’t care at all. She screamed out against your hand as you slipped two fingers into her, curling them up and thrusting as fast as you could go for just a few seconds before jerking them out and pressing down on her clit.

She reached her own hand towards her pussy but you swiftly slapped it away. “No touching,” you hissed into her ear, bringing your fingers back to her entrance, leaving her clit and slipping them in.

It was obvious she wasn’t happy about it, but she listened, squirming and writhing at your touch, trying to push you in deeper by using her hips. You played along, giving her what she wanted while still teasing her pussy just enough to drive her insane. There was a beautiful balancing act that you knew would make it so much better in the end, even if Nayeon hated you for it at the moment.

And you knew it was working – her pussy was speaking to you through your fingers. She squeezed and pressed down hard, waves of pleasure aching through her pussy with each little thrust of your hand until it all became too much. You knew this was the end, all that was left was for you to pull your fingers back out and press on her clit.

Nayeon moaned louder than ever – basically screaming – as she began squirting across the parking garage, leaving long streaks of her slick all over the concrete. She lifted herself up with her legs, spreading them farther, shooting her mess as far as possible out your passenger door, painting the ground dark.

Only once her pussy stopped spraying did you stop. It didn’t matter how hard Nayeon would cum, she always had more in her – that was the beauty of it. You plunged two fingers back into her pussy, just for a couple more seconds, before quickly withdrawing and letting her squirt again and again, seemingly forever.

“I swear we’re getting caught one day,” you chuckled as Nayeon collapsed backwards against you, her legs shaking slightly and her breaths heavy.

“I don’t give a fuck,” she panted before straining herself up and closing the door. She didn’t even bother pulling up her pants as she glanced at you, collapsed in her seat and panting deeply, slowly regaining composure. “What about you, what did you end up doing?”

“Oh nothing, just tried again to talk to someone about the Tzuyu situation, but no luck.”

“I’m really sorry,” Nayeon softened her gaze and pulled up her pants. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so,” you sighed as you turned on the car. “I just don’t understand why the fuck she did it.”

“I don’t know, as far as I know she hasn’t told anyone about it.”

“It just makes no sense.”

“Maybe it was for financial reasons?” Nayeon suggested. “If she was planning on quitting anyway, I could see those pics having a lot of potential.”

“Really? You think she’d do that just for money? That sounds fucking stupid.”

“I agree, but I don’t know why else she would,” Nayeon frowned. “Sorry, it was a stupid idea.

As you stopped at a red light, you looked over at Nayeon and shot her a warm, apologetic gaze. “Don’t be, I wasn’t trying to say you’re stupid, it’s a fair idea I just don’t think it’s why she did it.”

“So why do you think she did it?”

“I have no fucking idea,” you sighed, slamming your hand against the top of the steering wheel.

“Hey,” Nayeon reached across the car and placed her hand on your leg. “Maybe we should stop thinking about it, for now?”

“How can–”

“Please?”

She was looking at you with such precious eyes – full of concern – and a gentle, understanding expression. Her head was tilted just slightly with a small, hopeful smile on her lips.

“Alright,” you sighed, returning her smile.

“I know something that can help get your mind off it,” Nayeon leaned over the central console. “Just don’t crash.”

“Nayeon that’s not necessary–” you began as she unbuckled your pants and began pulling them down.

“Do you have any idea how hard you made me cum earlier?” she whispered before diving her face down between your legs and licking your balls. “This is just payback.”

Before you could respond, you felt her lips on your tip. A rush of excitement shot up your spine as the wetness of Nayeon’s mouth enveloped your cock. It took all your power to focus on driving once Nayeon had started bobbing her head up and down gently.

Luckily, you were already at her apartment, so you quickly pulled over in front of their building. Since it was fairly late there seemed to be no one walking around, so you had some sense of comfort knowing you were unlikely to get caught. Still, you were on a completely open street where anyone could walk by, and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

It wasn’t guaranteed that no one would walk by, but at this point you were so engrossed in Nayeon’s blowjob that you once again tonight decided you didn’t care anymore. You pulled the latch and laid your seat down all the way. Once fully reclined, you rested a hand on Nayeon’s back and closed your eyes, focusing everything on Nayeon’s mouth. She kept her pace steady, not too fast, and definitely not too slow – at this point it was really just your own stress holding you back from blowing.

So you tried to relax some more – as if laying here with the setting sun’s warmth barely lighting up your car and Nayeon sucking your cock as if she was your girlfriend wasn’t enough. You really tried to let go of everything, no more pictures, no more angry pretend-girlfriend, no more emotional messes, no more work – just Nayeon’s mouth.

Sure enough, it was working. Or, probably, Nayeon had just been sucking you off for long enough for nothing else to matter to your body. You felt it coming, and part of you just wanted to freeze and it let it happen, but the courteous thing to do would be to at least let Nayeon know you were about to fill her mouth. Selfishly, you decided it was Nayeon’s problem, even as she was here doing you the favor. She’d understand – hopefully.

Regardless, it didn’t matter anymore as finally you could fade away into bliss, finally you could let go of the stresses of life, the difficulties of feelings and relationships. All you had to worry about now was the fountain of white you had begun launching into Nayeon’s mouth. She squealed, clearly surprised by the first shot, but Nayeon was far from inexperienced. She didn’t let off – she kept bobbing up and down your cock, albeit slightly slower now and with the occasional whine.

As much as you wanted to see Nayeon’s cute cheeks filling up with your cum, the strength needed to sit yourself up was non-existent. You conceded to the shivers shooting up your spine, the pleasure rushing through your brain, and you lay there with your hand resting on Nayeon’s back, simply taking in the slopping noises Nayeon’s mouth was making against your cock.

Once thoroughly drained, you finally groaned yourself up, bringing your seat upright.

“My–”

“Don’t,” Nayeon held up her hand as she wiped her lips. “I don’t even want to hear it.”

“I really don’t know why I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s whatever, I’ll let it slide this time,” Nayeon shook her head and grabbed the handle to her door. “What’s your plan now? Wanna come up?”

“Still horny?”

“Oh please,” Nayeon scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re one to talk. Really, how can you even have that much left in you after everything?”

“Good diet, I supposed,” you grinned at her before sighing again. “I would, but Sana has been a bit sensitive lately, I should probably avoid skipping nights with her for a bit.”

“Ah, right,” Nayeon frowned, letting go of the handle. “You know, you could take a couple days off, I can get a ride with someone else.”

“What? Then who’s going to fuck the shit out of you throughout the day?”

“I’m being serious,” Nayeon burst out laughing. “Really, if you wanna spend some more time with Sana–”

“My job is for all of you, not just Sana,” you stated firmly. “She understands that. I still get to see her at night even on days when she doesn’t come into the office, everything’s good between us.”

“Alright,” Nayeon bit her lip softly.

“You don’t seem convinced.”

“No, I believe you.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t.”

“What?” Nayeon raised an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

“It’s just that Momo said something kinda similar,” you explained, “something about how I wasn’t taking this relationship thing with Sana seriously enough.”

“Ah,” Nayeon turned towards you some more, opening up her body. “Do you feel that way?”

“I mean, I obviously have a lot of love for Sana, but how seriously can I take this relationship thing we have going on? Like, come on, I’m still fucking her closest friends on a daily basis.”

“No one said it’s a simple situation, you obviously have an unorthodox career thing going on.”

“But?”

Nayeon smiled warmly as you read her mind. “But, that doesn’t mean that the feelings aren’t real. Forget about the physical sex you’re having with the others for just a moment.”

“How can I just ignore that part?”

“Well–”

“Let me ask you this,” you cut her off, “do you really think you’d be cool with it if I was your boyfriend and I was also fucking Momo every day?”

“That’s…” Nayeon sighed. “But then why do you do it? Why are you even pretending to be in a relationship with her?”

“I…”

“You can fuck all nine of us basically whenever you want, so what’s even the point? Why go through the headache?”

“I don’t really know…”

“Do you love her?”

“Nayeon, of course–”

“No, that’s not what I’m asking,” Nayeon stared, unwavering, into your eyes. “I know you love her, but I also know she’s not the only one, and she’s definitely not the only one who loves you.”

The first person that came to your mind was Mina and that confession from the contract renewal day. Then the others, and lastly the girl sitting right in front of you. You felt a slight stab in the chest when you thought about Nayeon, because at this point you basically knew she had feelings for you.

“It’s a bit too late at this point,” Nayeon continued, “the truth is, you’re right. I wouldn’t be okay with it if you were my boyfriend and also fucking the other members.”

“And I’d assume you also don’t think Sana would be okay with it?”

Nayeon gave you a meek smile before continuing. “Do you love her enough to pick her over everyone else? If you had to choose, would she be the one?”

“I guess I have to make that decision, don’t I?”

“That’s the thing, you don’t,” Nayeon replied as she reached for the door handle again. “But maybe you should.”

With that, she left the car, leaving you staring at her as she walked through the doors to her building – a whole new problem stuck in your head.

—

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“You smell like sex,” Sana replied without even sparing a glance away from her phone. She sat on the couch in nothing but a loose shirt and some purple panties, her knees up to her chest. “Nayeon?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll go shower real qu–”

“No need,” Sana tossed her phone to the side and reached up for your arms, dragging you onto the couch with her. “You hungry? We have leftovers, I could warm something up for you.”

“I’m alright, not much of an appetite right now,” you murmured as you buried your face into Sana’s neck.

“Is everything alright? You’ve seemed a bit more stressed than usual lately.”

“Yeah, just tired I guess,” you sighed softly.

Sana gently rubbed your back, holding you tight in her embrace. “Can I help?” she asked, her tone caring and full of concern.

“You’re already helping,” you squeezed, “I can’t ask for more.”

“I don’t know if I agree.”

Slowly, you lifted yourself up. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you think I’ve been a bit unfair to you these last couple of days? I’ve snapped at you and been difficult for no reason.”

“Sana, where is this coming from? Are you okay?”

“I just feel bad,” she admitted quietly, “you’re at the office before me, and you come home way later than me. I can see how hard you’ve been working recently and I just don’t feel like I’m doing my part.”

“Doing your part? Sweetheart, how can you think that for even a second? There’s no way you think my life is harder than yours, are you kidding me?”

“I’m not trying to compare, I’m just saying I wish I could do more for you. To help you.”

“You’re helping me more than you know,” you replied, pushing her hair out of her face. “Every day I look forward to coming home and seeing you here, waiting for me. You have no idea how much I love that.”

Sana smiled, a small twinkle in her eyes. “And I love being here when you come home,” she whispered before she leaned up towards you.

Meeting her halfway, you carefully slipped your hands under her body. Your foreheads touched softly, and her breathing slowed down. The eye contact, this close and personal, was unreal; There was this deep connection, silent and aching, that both of you experienced together.

Once you finally pressed your lips to hers – your eyes closing slowly – it felt better than you could have imagined. The kiss was tender and slow, full of anticipation and urgency. It felt both rushed and patient at the same time, your bodies working together and against each other simultaneously.

Her hands began clawing at your back, and your tongue slowly eased into her mouth, intertwining carefully with hers. You eased in a bit closer than you already were, deepening the kiss but keeping it tender, not rushing it at all.

Your hands wrapped around her small frame, holding her, reminding you that she was yours. Her gentle curves, her soft skin, and that tender love you felt – it was all yours.

Eventually you pulled apart, just enough for your lips to separate, and held close. Your deep breaths mixed as your mouths held just a few inches apart.

“I want more,” she whispered quietly.

“Take these off,” you whispered back, tugging at the purple panties she had on.

“Okay,” Sana purred as she pushed you back and turned around, grabbing the back of the couch and bending over at the hips. She pointed her ass towards you before she reached back with both hands and slowly revealed herself. “I’m all yours. You can fuck me, as much as you want. Use me, in any way you want.”

“No,” you whispered in response, crawling forward towards her and wrapping your arms around her, leaning right up against her ear. “Tell me what you want, because that’s what I want.”

She hesitated for a moment, shifting her body to the side.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” you whispered before you stood up from the couch and stripped down.

She bit her lip, staring up at you in deep thought. Even as you leaned forward and pulled her shirt off, leaving her sitting there with nothing on, she waited.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, taking a seat on the couch with your cock in hand. “Anything at all, just tell me.”

Her breaths quickened and she began crawling over closer to you. “I just want to ride you,” Sana whispered as she straddled your lap and cupped your face in her hands. She sat down on your lap – her pussy right on top of your cock – and started kissing you passionately.

Her movements were fast, but calculated. No loud moans, no shrieks – only soft kisses and gentle caresses. She slid her hips forward and back, back and forward, coaxing you to life – as if you could get any harder.

Then she paused, for just a moment, to reach back and take a hold of your shaft. She lined you up, slipping it in as she lowered herself down, a drawn-out breath escaping her lips. Sana shut her eyes tight, relishing in the ecstasy of you filling her up, inhaling and exhaling through parted lips, scrunching up her forehead.

Patiently, you lay there, waiting for her to make the next move. Your hands rested gently against Sana’s thighs, holding her steady. You felt Sana’s hands as she opened her eyes, taking the lead and interlocking fingers with yours. She looked down at you, an emotional smile flashed across her face as she gave your hands a tender squeeze. Then, she lifted her body up, just to bring it slowly back down.

“Oh fuck,” you murmured as Sana rode you. She was slow, making sure you felt every movement, every bit of warmth and pleasure that her pussy could offer.

“You feel amazing,” Sana whispered, speeding up just a touch.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are right now,” you moaned, your features scrunching up as Sana’s pussy began taking over your mind. You became more active, moving your hips in tandem with Sana, but she still did most of the work.

This time felt different. You’ve, frankly put, fucked Sana’s pussy countless times at this point, but there was something special tonight. You didn’t expect to feel so much, Sana’s body, her movements, the grip she had on your hands as if holding on for dear life, it all came together so magically.

She worked your cock expertly, her toned abs staring into you as she moved, her gorgeous tits recoiling with each bounce. Nothing could be more perfect than Sana’s body. The way her face just filled with pleasure and longing, the beautiful curves of her frame, and every single sexy breath that escaped her lips.

“Oh my fucking–” you cried out softly. “You’re so fucking amazing. You’re so fucking perfect.”

Sana replied with a loud moan, picking up her pace some more. She was starting to build up a sweat, putting in as much effort as possible – all to make you feel good. Her warmth engulfed you, her pussy soaked and tender. She would let out a little gasp, a soft squeal, each and every time your cock disappeared inside her body.

Every little movement felt like it was echoing, your senses reverberating harder than ever, an overwhelming sense of pleasure and delight that you still managed to swallow up. Every shiver and pulse, each one felt like an attack on your mind, each one feeling better than the last. Sana’s body, softer than ever, was doing things to you that you’ve never felt before. That mutual connection, quiet yet loud, was driving you insane. You could feel it in every fibre of your body – the end was near.

Then, as feelings hit an all-time high, and pleasure coursed through your body, you let out a sharp gasp before your mind faded to darkness. Everything happened so fast, you couldn’t keep up; Your body froze, laying there like a statue while Sana rode it out. She did it all, moving her hips back and forth as you filled her pussy up, your warm cum spilling out of her and back onto your own body. It felt fucking amazing, better than ever.

“Sana–”

“Just relax,” she whispered, letting go of your hands and lowering herself onto your chest. “I’m here, just breathe.”

Her words brought you comfort, that tone she spoke in – she probably could have said literally anything and it would have worked. Then, she began planting soft kisses against your chest, still moving her hips side to side just enough to keep it going.

Eventually, as your brain was overloaded with stimulation, your body finally began calming down. Now, alongside your heavy breathing, was just the feeling of Sana’s tender kisses.

Your cock slipped out of her warmth, and another fresh wave of cum spilled from her body. As much as you wanted to just lay there with her and enjoy the moment, you knew the mess needed to be addressed.

Carefully and methodically, you turned Sana onto her back and gave her a kiss. She wrapped her legs around your hips, pulling you in closer. You both ended up in a frenzy of passion and love, mouths glued together as neither dared to separate.

She felt so soft against your skin, her warmth radiating through you as your heartbeats combined into one unified rhythm. Her tongue grazed against your teeth, twisting and mixing against your tongue while staying gentle, like a romantic little dance.

As much as you would have loved to kiss her forever, you felt the natural end. You lifted yourself up slowly, pausing just to admire the way Sana’s chest heaved with each deep breath she took, her eyes wide and loving as she stared up at you.

“That was fucking amazing,” you smiled at her as you got off her and began walking towards the bathroom. “Let me grab some wipes, we made a mess.”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about first,” Sana spoke softly, sitting up on the couch. “If that’s okay?”

“Sure, everything alright?” you let go of the bathroom door’s handle and turned around.

“Well,” she hesitated, waiting for you to sit down next to her. Only once you took a seat did she continue. “I spoke to Tzuyu today and she told me what she did.”

“She…” your body went warm. “The pictures?”

“Yes.”

It took a moment for you to ask the next question. For some reason, the way Sana was acting – her body language and tone – something about it had you slightly uncomfortable. You were a bit on edge, nervous maybe, and you weren’t entirely sure why but you had a feeling you weren’t going to like what she had to say.

“What did she say?” you asked softly.

“She told me she almost quit,” Sana muttered quietly under her breath.

“Yeah, she told me the same,” you placed your hand on Sana’s thigh trying your best to be encouraging.

“Promise me something,” she looked up into your eyes. “Promise me that no matter what I’m about to tell you, that you won’t tell anyone that I’m telling you.”

“Sana…”

“Promise me.”

Your heartbeat quickened and warmth flushed through your skin. “Alright, I promise,” you finally replied.

“The pictures were her choice–”

“What do you mean, her choice?”

“Let me explain,” Sana continued, her eyes beginning to well up. “She… She felt like it was her way to take back control. She said the way those guys made her feel, how special they made her feel during negotiations, she missed that feeling.”

“But…”

“I’m paraphrasing obviously. She was hurt, she was vulnerable, and she knows she fucked up.”

“I just don’t understand, why?”

“It’s very human to do things you wouldn’t normally do as a way to seek validation or affirmation,” Sana spoke softly, still very clearly fighting back tears. “Especially if she felt unseen or overlooked. She said they were nothing but kind, and that it was all her own decision. That’s also why she felt so bad when you got so upset about it.”

“When you say unseen or overlooked, you’re talking about me,” you replied quietly.

“Kind of,” she answered quietly, her expression full of pain and sorrow. “But maybe it’s my fault. I’ve definitely played a role, it’s not only your burden to bear.”

“No, Sana,” your vision began blurring. “I’m not going to let you blame yourself. This is on me, my fuck up.”

“Don’t say that,” a tear fell down her cheek. “It’s not your fault. I hurt her, even if she won’t say it, I know I did.”

“Please–”

“I love you, a lot, I promise I mean it,” Sana muttered softly as the tears began spilling freely down her face. “But I can’t, I can’t do this. As much as I love you, I also love my members, and I don’t have it in me to hurt any of them like this.”

“Sana–”

“I can’t do it,” Sana sniffled, “maybe one day this could work, but not right now.”

The heaviest silence you’ve ever experienced engulfed the room, leaving the two of you in a darkness that could be felt through your skin. There wasn’t anything left to be said, minds were made, decisions decided. This was it.

“We can make this work, Sana, I know we can,” you pleaded desperately as tears filled your eyes. “Please.”

“Remember when we started dating?” Sana wiped her nose with the back of her hand, more tears spilling down her face. “I told you there were three conditions, and I didn’t know the third one yet but one day you’d have to accept it?”

“Yeah, and I said that was unfair.”

“I know,” Sana smiled through the tears. “It is unfair–”

“Don’t do this.”

“But here’s my third condition. I need you to let this end. I promise you this isn’t easy for me, but it needs to happen. I wish it didn’t, but it does.”

“Sana–”

She silenced you by pulling you into a hug. There was just as much love and care as ever, but all you could feel was the resounding desolation coursing throughout your body. Even as Sana sobbed against you, there was nothing but a bleak emptiness in your head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered quietly.

Turns out that Nayeon was wrong about one thing, you didn’t have to make the decision to pick Sana over the others – she made it for you.

---

A/N:

You guys have been so damn amazing and patient, and I know a lot of you have been waiting for this story to come back, so here it is! I promise I'm not rushing the chapters, I just found some more time to write as I've needed a bit of an escape from life. I really hope you guys enjoy!

For those of you who have been following the story for a while, it's finally coming next chapter, the Yeji cameo that I've been teasing for way too long. It won't be exclusively Yeji next chapter, as you might have noticed the chapters are a bit longer now, so expect some steamy scenes from someone else as well.

Let me know what you guys think! We're sort of in the end-game of the story now, a lot of teasers and hints from the past are finally going to get paid off. Stuff I've planned for years, finally turning into words. No promises for when the next chapter comes out, but if people respond well to this I'll try to make it sooner rather than later!

[chirping-robyn]

Uhhh uhhhhhhhhhh uhhh uhhhhh

Favourite colour: Don't know? I mean it changes. Maybe blue? Right now, at least.

Last song: The Light That Comes Through, Sparkbird. It was playing and then I put it on loop to not fuck with me writing this all down.

Currently watching: Avatar (airbender not blue people). Again. Not right now. I'm at school. It also depends on how I'm feeling. I watch many different shows at once. But ATLA was the last show I was watching.

Currently reading: The Martian, Andy Weir. Well. Also not currently. But it was the last book I was reading. Currently I am reading tumblr? It was also a while ago since I haven't really had too much time or energy to read.

Currently craving: Nothing? ADHD meds fucking with the appetite I fear. I'd like some water I think.

Tea or Coffee: It depends. Why am I drinking it? If I have a sore throat, I'd probably have some peppermint tea. If I need to stay awake, likely coffee. If I just want tea to be cozy, black tea with milk. It also depends on temperature and preparation. I don't like my tea with sugar but I love coffee with sugar. Is it hot or cold? I prefer cold coffee over hot but hot tea over cold. Am I having it with anything? The snack accompanying the drink is important. If there is a snack, I am more likely to want coffee. Unless I am munching on some nuts, in which case I will want tea. It also depends on what cup is being used. I hate using the insulating cups because the drink will always be too hot. However, I like cups with lids because I am clumsy. Also where am I? Coffee is more of a home drink to me while tea is for going out. Also, the type of tea or coffee is not specified at all. How much is there? There are so many variables to consider yet so few to work with that making an informed decision is nearly impossible.

Anyways. Uh. Friends. Yes, I have those. Uhh... @maned-wolf-caboose? Who else do I know? @mattressonacountryroad? I mean they're also above but. You know what I can't be bothered to think. Still on tea and coffee dilemma.

get to know your moots tag game!

✶ answer the questions, then tag six people

Thanks for the tag @kiraandhervibes

Favourite colour: blue and purple

Last song: the challenge from EPIC

Currently reading: I just started Silverborn

Currently watching: rewatching Series of Unfortunate Events

Currently craving: nothing in particular rn, but I’m always craving iced tea

Tea or coffee: tea!

Npt: @somanyquestions-featuringanxiety @shelbeforgotten @sparkleylittlepoo @stars-and-leather @ravensncrowsx @permetutotheworld + anyone else who wants to

[writesvani]

dear me | 09

lawyer! jungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TRIGGER WARNINGS: sexual tension, emotional tension, alcohol consumption, conflicted feelings for a taken friend, stage anxiety, performance stress, emotional repression, romantic confusion, angst, unresolved feelings, subtle jealousy, explicit language

comment HERE for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M.LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter (pending...)

wc: 6,6k // date: 13th of May 2025

CHAPTER NINE — PLAY IT AGAIN happy reading my gummies...

AN: hey guys, it’s been 2 weeks without “dear me,” but we’re so back, baby. anyways, writing this chapter was really hard for me. like, REALLY hard. i’ve been stuck in a writer's block pit and i swear, i kept deleting and rewriting scenes (i’m pretty sure this chapter has like 8 versions in my drafts, don’t even ask). BUT i’ve finally settled with this one, so here we are.

now, time to meet some new characters. what do we think of them, huh? yay or nay? also, i gave you SO MANY easter eggs in this chapter. like, half of it is just foreshadowing or clearly hinting at something and i’m LOWKEY excited to see your comments and asks about it.

anyways, goal for this chapter is 450 because i KNOW we can hit it and also because i like having a bit more time to finish chapters. so yeah, let’s do this. love you guys, now go read and tell me everything you think.

It’s kind of ridiculous, honestly—the way Jeon Jungkook blends into a room and owns it at the same time. Like some kind of paradox. Earlier today, he looked like he belonged to the sunlight—the warm kind, the kind that makes old bookstores feel like home. Curled into his booth with an espresso and that soft, quiet stare. He looked small. Touchable.

But now?

Now he looks like a warning sign. Shoulders squared, head tilted like he knows something you don’t, lips curved in that maddening smirk of his. The neon lights of The House flicker against his sharp jaw, casting shadows that feel deliberate. Calculated. Dangerous.

You’re following behind him, mildly regretting the decision to show up early. It’s barely 9 p.m. and the place is already humming—bands tuning up, neon signs buzzing, and Alex... perched on a bar stool like he owns the air.

You’re going to need a drink. Immediately.

Jungkook walks up like it’s his goddamn stage. Alex looks up, face splitting into a grin.

“Well, shit,” he says, tossing his pen aside. “Didn’t think you’d actually show, big boy.”

Jungkook shrugs, already half in a chair. “I don’t back out of dares.”

You glance at the paper Alex was scribbling on and let out a half-laugh. “Are you—are you seriously doing sudoku right now?”

Alex deadpans, “Gotta keep the brain sharp, sweetheart.”

You snort. “You’re so full of it. You not working tonight?”

“Please. I’m off-duty. I came to get drunk and take Jungkook’s money.”

“You wish,” Jungkook mutters, grinning. “So who’s behind the bar?” he asks.

Alex leans back dramatically. “New guy. But he’s decent. You might know him—same age as you two.”

You raise a brow. “Then just say his name? What is this cryptic scavenger hunt?”

“I’m setting the vibe,” Alex says. “Anyway, name’s Park Jimin.”

You blink. Jungkook goes still for half a second.

Park. Fucking. Jimin.

This is exactly why you hate small towns.

This is why you should’ve stayed away. Should’ve packed up your life, lit a match to the past, and never looked back. Because small towns come with reunions you never asked for. The kind that smell like stale beer, too-loud music, and people who were never villains—just unnecessary plot twists you never wanted to reread.

So when Park Jimin strolls out from the back closet door of The House—the one they keep the good booze in because the bar’s too damn small—you already feel your molars grinding.

You don’t hate him. But God, does his presence itch.

“Well, well,” he says, slipping a bottle of Belvedere into the fridge. His eyes lock on yours, glittering with the same mischief that used to make you roll yours in high school. “Familiar faces just follow me, huh?”

You exhale sharply through your nose. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He grins like it’s personal. “Missed me much?”

“Yeah. Like a rash.”

“Oof. Still bitter about prom?”

“I’m not bitter about prom.”

“You totally are.” He leans on the bar like he’s settling in. “Sorry again for dumping you right before, though. Heard you had to go with Yoongi. Brutal.”

“Hey, hey, hey—” Alex interrupts next to you, throwing a hand in the air. “Don’t slander my boy Yoongs like that. That man is class.”

Jimin ignores him. Of course he does.

“Thought your bestie would take you,” he adds, eyes still on you, “but I guess his girlfriend matched his aesthetic better.”

The blood in your ears roars. You open your mouth, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“What’s your problem?” he says, voice low and sharp. The tension in his jaw could crack diamonds.

Jimin looks at him for the first time. Smirks. “Relax, bro. I’m just messing with my ex. No harm done.”

You’re about to fire back when he adds, casual as hell, “Heard you got engaged to your high school sweetheart though. Congrats, man. Seriously.”

And just like that, the air goes from hot to hostile. Your throat tightens.

This motherfucker always knew where to cut.

Jungkook’s expression falters for a moment. You catch it—just the twitch of his jaw, the flicker behind his eyes. You think he might say something—thank him, tell him off, maybe even laugh it off.

Instead, he shifts.

His face evens out into that lazy, cool disinterest he wears so well. Like nothing ever touches him.

“One Jack Daniels,” he says, tone smooth, eyes bored. “Two cubes of ice. And for my friend—” he gestures toward you without even looking, “One Long Island Iced Tea. Add extra lemon juice and, uh, don’t be shy with the tequila.”

Jimin blinks. “What?”

Jungkook shrugs, rolling his shoulders like he’s stretching before a fight. “That’s our order. You do still make drinks, right? Or are you just here to be irrelevant all over again?”

You almost choke on a laugh. Almost.

Jimin wets his lips, and for a moment you see the flicker of something crack behind his eyes. But he recovers. Plasters on that wide, gleaming smile—the one you used to fall for. The one you now recognize as plastic.

“Of course,” he says, voice all sugar and sawdust. “Coming right up.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzes against the bar top. You glance over just as the screen lights up — Nina. Of course. She and Yoongi are supposed to be showing up any minute now.

When Jungkook had called her earlier to tell her about the bet with Alex — how he was playing drums tonight — she was thrilled. Or, well, "ecstatic," in his words. You weren’t on speaker, so you couldn’t hear her exact reaction. But you can imagine it. Sweet and supportive and all the things you know Nina to be.

He’d invited her immediately, of course. And she’d dragged Yoongi into the plan too — not that you minded. You might’ve casually begged Yoongi to show up so you wouldn’t have to third-wheel your way through the night like some tragic side character.

Jungkook picks up his phone with a low grunt, muttering, “She’s gonna call me in like, two seconds.”

You nod as he stands, watching his silhouette disappear toward the front door.

Alex elbows you, hard. “So… what I’m gathering here is, Jimin is your ex?”

You sigh. “Wow. Incredible deduction, detective. Really cracked the case there.”

He snorts. “So he’s that ex? The one who bailed on you before prom?”

You shoot him a look. “What gave it away, the tension in the room or the mild death wish I had five minutes ago?”

Alex grins. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Jimin brings it out in me.”

“Sure, blame the man.”

“I am blaming the man,” you say, then pause, brow furrowing. “He’s just… irritating.”

“He was acting weird with Jungkook though. And Yoongi too, back when he was mentioned. What's his deal with them?”

You shrug. “Honestly? No clue. Even when I dated him, he’d pretend they didn’t exist in public. It was weird then, and it’s still weird now.”

Alex hums, nursing his drink. “Damn, I thought he’s cool. He gives me bad vibes now.”

“You give me bad vibes.”

“And yet here you are, hanging out with me,” he grins.

“Sooo… love,” Jimin drawls, and you know — you just know — he’s talking to you.

You grit your teeth, forcing yourself to stay facing Alex, but his voice is like a needle in your spine. When you glance over, he’s not even trying to hide the smug look on his face. He’s pouring white rum into a shaker like it’s the most casual thing in the world, the glint in his eyes almost daring you to respond.

You roll your eyes. God, he’s insufferable. Always was. Still, you can’t lie — black hair, pretty lips, annoyingly symmetrical face… Park Jimin has no right still looking that good.

Not that you’d ever say it aloud. Your friends would kill you on the spot.

“What?” you snap.

He shrugs. “Nothing. Just wanted to see if you’d still turn when I call you love.”

“You’re fucked in the head.”

He grins, unbothered. “You know whose head I also fucked?”

“Wow,” you deadpan. “Peak comedy. Is there a two-drink minimum for this set or what?”

“No joke. Just facts.”

“Yeah, okay, we had sex. Ages ago. You want a medal?”

He leans in slightly. “Didn’t think the first time was that forgettable.”

“It only means something if the person means something,” you say coolly.

That hits. His smile slips just a bit — before morphing into something darker.

“Then maybe you should’ve picked one of your friends. Wonder who would’ve been more desperate—gloom-and-doom Yoongi or Mr. Marrying-The-Preppy-Girl.”

You tense. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

He just shrugs again, shaking the cocktail like nothing’s wrong. “Touchy.”

“I don’t know what your problem is with them—hell, with me—but you’re acting like a damn parasite.”

“I don’t have a problem with you,” he says easily, pouring the drink. “You’re not pathetic. They are. I’m just trying to open your eyes.”

“Dude,” Alex hisses, his tone sharp, “I get there's history here, but you really need to back off. She’s a customer.”

Jimin doesn’t even flinch, still focused on mixing the drinks with practiced ease. “I get it, I do,” he smirks, eyes flicking to you. “But she knows exactly what I’m talking about. She knows why we broke up, after all.”

You clench your jaw, fighting the urge to snap. “Jimin, drop it. It was a high school breakup. Seriously, who cares? I got over it in two weeks.”

He leans in slightly, that dangerous edge to his smile. “You ever think I might’ve been right?”

“No,” you reply coldly, voice tight. “Because you weren’t.”

Jimin’s smile widens, but it’s all sharp edges now. “Sure, love. Whatever helps you keep your little fairytale. I’ll drop it—for now.” He slides the drink toward you, his gaze lingering just a second too long.

When Jungkook walks back into The House, the change in him is immediate. Whatever easy charm he left with is gone — replaced by stormy eyes and a jaw so tight you’re afraid he might crack a bone or two. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, a tell you’ve come to recognize: something went wrong.

“Took you long enough,” Jimin taunts, just as Jungkook drops into the seat next to you without a word. It’s not his usual controlled fall — it’s heavy, careless.

“Your ice melted,” Jimin adds, gesturing toward the untouched whiskey glass, voice dipped in mock concern.

Jungkook barely glances at it. “Right. Shame,” he mutters.

Alex leans forward slightly, brow creasing. “Everything cool, man?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Peachy. Don’t worry about it.”

But you do. You worry the second you see the way his knuckles whiten as he grips the edge of the bar. You want to ask, but his expression shuts that down. Whatever it is, it’s not meant for public display.

So you shift gears. “When are Nina and Yoongi getting here?”

“Nina’s not coming,” he says flatly, not even looking at you.

“What?” That doesn’t make sense. She was practically bouncing off the walls earlier, excited to watch him drum again, or at least that’s what Jungkook said.

“She’s… feeling under the weather.”

A cold excuse. Paper thin.

You blink. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” he says, then adds, too casually, “Just not in the mood to go out.”

Something’s off. Way off.

“And Yoongi?”

“He’ll be here later,” Jungkook says, voice tightening as he rubs the back of his neck — another tell.

Then, of course, Jimin can’t help himself.

“Damn,” he drawls, grinning like the devil. “Your little fiancée bailed on your big night?”

Jungkook flinches.

It’s subtle, but it’s there — a flicker of pain behind the guarded eyes.

“Jimin,” you hiss, eyes flashing as you shoot him a death glare. “Enough.”

But he’s already walking off, smug and self-satisfied, whistling like he didn’t just stick a knife into something raw.

And Jungkook?

He doesn’t say a word.

He just stares straight ahead.

A few awkward minutes pass — the silence only interrupted by the distant sound of opening bands testing mics and tuning guitars. No one dares break the uneasy stillness. Alex is hunched over a sudoku, casually sipping his beer like it’s any other night. Jungkook nurses his half-melted whiskey, the kind of lukewarm drink that probably tastes like piss by now. Even Jimin’s gone quiet, absent of any snark, polishing glasses with the focus of someone who knows he went too far.

You stare blankly at your phone, Instagram Reels flickering past without meaning. You couldn’t name a single thing you’ve watched.

Because all you can feel is him.

The tension radiating off Jungkook is impossible to ignore — like he’s one sharp breath away from detonating. But instead, he just… sits there. Bottled up. Unmoving. Unwell.

“Kook,” you whisper, soft enough that only he hears. “What happened?”

He exhales through his nose. “Nothing, really. I don’t wanna dump shit on you.”

“C’mon.” You bump your shoulder gently against his. “Spill.”

He hesitates. Then, quietly: “Nina just thinks… since I’m working tomorrow, I shouldn’t be out tonight.”

You frown. That doesn’t sound like Nina. Not from what you know.

“And?” you ask.

“And she thinks… this is an unnecessary distraction.”

You blink. “This as in what?”

“As in me drumming tonight.”

Your eyebrows knit tighter. “A distraction from what?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “I don’t get it either. She just said she needs sleep and can’t make it.”

You let that settle for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Kook. But… wasn’t she excited earlier? Like, really excited?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice thinning. “But… something changed. I don’t know what. She just—changed her mind.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Kook,” you say gently, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “She’s probably just annoyed about something and taking it out on you. It’ll pass. It usually does, right?”

“Yeah… probably,” he mutters. “I just thought she’d come. I haven’t played in forever. Kinda wanted her here, that’s all.”

“I get it,” you nod. Wanted her here. It shouldn’t hit the way it does, but it does. You take a sip of your drink, trying to shake it off. “But hey—Yoongi’s coming. Alex is here. I’m here.”

He glances at you, manages a small smile. It looks practiced, not real. “At least I’ll have a chill crowd when I completely bomb.”

“You wish,” you nudge him. “If you bomb, I’ll be the first one to laugh in your face.”

“You’re all heart,” he says with a light chuckle, and it feels better—easier—than anything he’s said since he walked in.

“Hey!” Jimin suddenly appears in front of you both like he’s been summoned by drama. “Not everyone here’s so supportive. I’ve got front-row seats to his downfall.”

Jungkook laughs for real this time. “Yeah, well, good thing I never valued your opinion.”

“That’s rude.”

“That’s accurate.”

You roll your eyes, pointing at Jimin. “Alright, enough out of you. Go make us another round. Alex too. And fine, you can pour yourself something if it’ll keep you from eavesdropping.”

Jimin clutches his chest like you just proposed. “Wow. Buying me a drink now? And here I thought you were over me.”

You smirk. “Don’t push your luck. I’m just trying to keep the vibe from completely crashing.”

Jimin gives you a playful salute and walks off. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Jungkook’s shoulders drop a little. He still looks sad, but at least now he doesn’t look like he’s gonna snap in half.

When Jimin slides your drinks over, Alex actually wheezes — like, full-on wheezes — before his face turns red with excitement. “As soon as I get Jungkook’s money,” he adds dramatically, “you’re the first one I’m buying one for.”

“You could just split the money with me,” you reply, smirking over your glass.

Next to you, Jungkook groans and slumps forward, burying his face in his hands. “I swear to god, I’m gonna die. I’m not even gonna be good. I haven’t done this in so long.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex waves him off. “Spare us the dramatics, Kook. The kids you’ll be playing with should be here any minute.”

“The kids I’ll be—what?”

“Well, yeah,” Alex shrugs. “You’re playing drums, right? No offense, man, but I don’t think the crowd’s dying for a solo drum recital. You need a full sound. Guitar, bass, maybe even keys. You know how these things go.”

Jungkook stares at him, horrified. “Oh my god. I didn’t even think about that. Who am I playing with?”

“That band I told you about this morning, remember?” Alex says casually.

“Wait—don’t they already have a drummer?”

“Yeah, they do,” Alex grins. “But I talked to Jack. Asked if he’d let you jump in for a song, and he said sure. Super chill guy.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with both hands, muttering something under his breath. You can't tell if it’s relief or panic—or both.

“Hey,” you nudge him gently, “you’ll be fine. You could probably play in your sleep.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll have to,” he mutters, then downs the rest of his drink.

The door of The House creaks open, and like a domino effect, all four of you—Alex, Jungkook, even Jimin, and you—snap your heads toward it, expecting to finally see the teenage band roll in.

But no. Not even close.

Instead, it’s Yoongi. He steps inside in a massive black hoodie and matching sweatpants, a bandana pushing his hair off his forehead. He pauses when he sees all your eyes locked on him, confusion already creeping into his features.

“What?” he frowns. “Did I miss it? You already played, man?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Nah, not yet.” Jungkook gestures toward the bar. “Keep the whiskey flowing.”

Jimin groans under his breath, clearly annoyed—by Jungkook’s request, by Yoongi’s sudden presence, by existence in general.

Yoongi raises a brow as he takes the seat next to Alex. “Did all of you just... stare at me when I walked in?”

“Sorry, man,” Alex chuckles. “We thought the band Kook’s playing with showed up.”

“The high schoolers?” Yoongi asks, settling in.

“Yeah,” you say. “I mentioned them earlier when we texted.”

Yoongi hums. “Heard they’re good. Can I get a dirty martini?” His voice is calm until his eyes meet Jimin’s.

He stiffens. Jimin rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they stay in his head.

“Why the hell not,” Jimin mutters, stomping off to make the drink.

Yoongi watches him walk away, his jaw tightening.

“What are you doing here?” he calls after him.

“Working. Thought that was obvious,” Jimin bites back, slamming the finished martini in front of him with no ceremony.

Yoongi goes quiet. You and Jungkook exchange a subtle glance.

You lean toward Yoongi, voice low. “Okay, I knew you two weren’t exactly besties, but this feels like next-level passive-aggressive.”

“He deserves it,” Yoongi grits out.

You blink. “Sure, but… I wasn’t expecting you to be more pissed than I am to see him.”

“He’s just—” Yoongi exhales, “annoying.”

“That’s something even I agree with,” Jungkook mutters, sipping his drink.

“What are you even wearing, dude?” Jimin asks, eyeing Yoongi’s oversized hoodie and sweats like they’re a disgrace to the earth. “Who the hell comes to a club dressed like that?”

Yoongi doesn’t even flinch. “Me.”

Jimin scoffs, dramatic as ever. “Right. Is that because you’re, what—edgy? Quirky? Too cool to try?”

“No,” Yoongi says flatly. “It’s because this place isn’t a club, it’s practically a dive bar, and I literally grew up here. But hey—props to you for trying so hard. Must be tough being the new guy.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, jaw twitching just slightly. “Cute. Did you rehearse that one in the mirror or does it just come naturally when you’re being a dick?”

Yoongi smirks, unbothered. “Naturally. But thanks for noticing.”

“Well, everyone’s getting along just great,” Alex mutters, lips pressed tight around the rim of his beer.

“I’m just glad someone finally matches Jimin’s talent for being a pain in the ass,” Jungkook says, spinning one of his rings absentmindedly with his thumb.

Your eyes drift to his hands. Just for a second. Just because they’re moving. But then you really look. His fingers—long, slender, tanned just enough—move with ease, like they know how to pull attention. His skin looks soft, but there’s something sharp in the way his knuckles flex. Something wicked. Something you shouldn’t be noticing.

Your stomach twists.

You blink, hard, like that'll reset your brain.

Jungkook is your friend. Your best friend. Engaged to your other friend. This isn’t supposed to be happening. You’re not supposed to be looking at his hands like this.

And worse—worse than anything—Jimin saw it. Of course he fucking did. You hear his quiet, condescending chuckle, and a wave of shame burns through your cheeks.

“Nice rings, Jungkook,” Jimin says, too casually. His eyes never leave Jungkook’s face, but you can feel the smirk meant for you. “They really suit your fingers.”

Jungkook frowns, caught off guard. “Uh… thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Jimin replies smoothly, already turning on his heel as someone calls his name from across the bar.

You watch him go, teeth clenched.

Fuck you, Park Jimin.

You’d almost been grateful for his silence. But no—he just had to say something.

Finally—finally—after what feels like an eternity and three Long Islands too deep, the door creaks open and in stumble four high schoolers, breathless, disheveled, and looking like they lost half their souls on the way here.

Alex shoots up with a dramatic yell. “Here they come. My children.”

“Fucking hell, Mina, I told you we’d be late,” the tall brunette groans, dragging a black gig bag over his shoulder as he wipes sweat off his brow.

“Chill, dude. We’re not late—we’re on at eleven,” the girl—who you assume is Mina (probably because she’s the only girl)—retorts, hoisting a keyboard bag like it’s a sack of bricks but somehow not tripping over it.

“Can you two not? Just tonight, please?” the third kid huffs, his pale skin glowing under the lights, striking blue eyes shooting them both a glare.

Trailing quietly behind them is the fourth member—carrying only a pair of drumsticks. That’s Jack. Definitely Jack. His shoulders are hunched, cheeks tinged pink as he scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the chaos in front of him.

“Hey, Alex,” the blue-eyed boy says, grinning as he high-fives the older man.

“Yo, Dan. What’s up.”

“Sorry we’re late, bro. Mina took two hours doing her eyeliner.”

“Ha! See!” the brunette jumps in. “I’m not the only one who thought it was excessive.”

“It’s called getting ready,” Mina snaps, turning on him. “Sorry I wasn’t born a man so I could just throw on a clean shirt and be socially acceptable. It’s not my fault people expect women to look like magazine covers.”

“Why do you turn everything into feminist propaganda?” Ace mutters, and you can’t help the smirk that tugs at your lips.

“I’m not. I’m just stating facts.”

They’re so deep into their bickering that they don’t even notice the rest of you at the bar—except for Jack and Dan, who gravitate toward Alex like they're clinging to stability.

“So, this is JK, guys,” Alex says, nodding toward Jungkook.

That shuts everyone up.

“The Jeon Jungkook?” the brunette—Ace, you think—says, eyes wide, posture straightening in an instant.

You nudge Jungkook’s shoulder. “Uhm, wow, Jungkook. Didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty.”

Jungkook laughs under his breath. “Uh… yeah?” He glances at Ace, unsure.

Mina squeals—an actual, honest-to-god squeal. Dan flushes bright red. And Jack stammers, “Whoa. You’re kind of a legend around here. Total honor to meet you, sir.”

“Please don’t call me sir,” Jungkook says, flustered. “I’m not that old. And—legend?”

“Yeah, bro—I mean, sir—I mean Jungkook,” Jack stammers. “Everyone knows about you. I can’t believe I’m letting you borrow my sticks tonight.”

“Thanks for the sticks in advance, Jack,” Jungkook says, his cheeks tinged pink—part whiskey, part unexpected attention. “But I’m just gonna warn you—I might disappoint you guys.”

“No way,” Jack fires back instantly.

“Not a chance,” Mina adds, shaking her head.

Jungkook laughs, easing into their energy. He falls into effortless banter with the kids, talking about their setlist, throwing out ideas, asking their opinions on which song he should play.

You don’t interrupt. You just watch him.

He finally looks relaxed, like the tension in his shoulders has melted off without anyone noticing. His face is lit up with a soft smile, his hands moving as he animatedly explains why Smells Like Teen Spirit should absolutely make the list. The kids groan dramatically, arguing that while it’s a classic, it’s way too basic for a comeback gig after ten years.

“It’s a banger!” Jungkook insists, brows raised.

“And that’s the problem!” Ace argues. “We want iconic, not expected.”

Yoongi, from his seat nearby, chimes in lazily, “Nirvana is iconic. Can’t be basic if it’s legendary.”

Mina turns to him, eyes sharp but playful. “With all due respect, Sir—we need something more iconic.”

“How is that song not the 'most' iconic?” Yoongi repeats, deadpan.

“It is,” Mina sighs, “but we need like—iconic with a twist.”

You laugh, quietly. The whole exchange is ridiculous but so full of life. Your gaze finds its way back to Jungkook—still laughing, still animated, bangs falling in his eyes, youth catching the edge of his expression.

You’re not sure what it is—the presence of the kids, the memory of what The House used to mean, or just the anticipation of playing again—but something about him tonight feels different. No—familiar.

He looks alive.

He looks like himself.

So you lean into it. You let yourself feel it. Let yourself miss him in the way that hurts but also heals.

Because this… this version of him—the one glowing with purpose and ease—this is the version you’ve missed the most.

“Don’t you guys want to drop off your instruments and have a drink?” Jimin asks from behind the bar, voice light, expression even lighter.

You stiffen, blinking twice. Park Jimin… smiling? And not the condescending, I-know-something-you-don’t smile, but a real one. It’s disorienting—like waking up in a parallel universe. For a second, you brace yourself for a backhanded comment, a jab hidden behind sugar-coated words.

But it never comes.

He actually looks like he likes the kids.

“Uh, yeah—we totally forgot,” Daniel says, still a little breathless as he adjusts the strap on his shoulder.

“Give us a sec, JK,” Ace calls over his shoulder, clapping Jungkook’s arm before the four teenagers vanish backstage, a trail of youthful energy and secondhand adrenaline left in their wake.

The bar quiets just enough for a breath to settle.

“Are you excited?” you ask, leaning closer to Jungkook.

His gaze lingers on the now-empty hallway where the kids disappeared. His features are soft, loose, almost vulnerable in a way you haven’t seen in years.

“Actually… yeah. I am,” he admits, lips parting in surprise at his own words. “I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just the kids—”

“The tasteless kids,” Yoongi deadpans, slumped in his chair like a tired philosopher. “How the hell does that girl say there’s something more iconic than Nirvana?”

Alex raises his beer solemnly. “Blasphemy. Absolute blasphemy.”

Jungkook just rolls his eyes, used to their noise. “Anyway,” he says, “like I was saying… I think I’m genuinely looking forward to playing.”

The words hang in the air for a second too long, warm and raw. And before you even realize it, your hand is in his hair, ruffling the soft strands. His cheeks flush—alcohol or affection, you can’t tell.

“Aw, look at my bestie getting all giddy,” you tease, trying to sound casual, but something inside you aches at how happy he looks. “Seriously, Kook, that’s fucking amazing. Now I can’t wait to see you up there.”

“Don’t be too excited,” he laughs, brushing a hand over his face. “There’s still a good chance I shit my pants from nerves.”

“Wasn’t your whole goal to fail?” Yoongi asks, blinking like he’s doing mental math. “So you don’t have to give Alex the money?”

Alex waves a dismissive hand, the gold ring on his pinky flashing under the low amber lights. “No one ever plays to fail. Not in music, not in life. I, my friend, am simply operating within the mystical corridors of Jungkook’s subconscious. Planting seeds. Psychological warfare.”

“You, my friend,” you shoot back, “are drunk.”

“Maybe,” Alex replies, tipping his beer with a grin that says definitely.

“You so are,” Jungkook adds, eyes glinting.

Alex leans closer, mock-sincere. “Don’t worry. I’ll still be sober enough to take my money when you owe it to me.”

There’s laughter again, warm and alive, and for a moment you forget the heaviness. Forget the time. Forget the past. Because Jungkook is here, sitting next to you, eyes sparkling, stomach twisting with nerves in the most beautiful, human way.

And for the first time in a long while—he wants to be seen.

The kids return in a pack—energy buzzing around them like static, cheeks flushed from the excitement and maybe just a bit of nerves. They spill into the empty bar stools like they own the place, all happy—the kind that comes with knowing tonight matters.

Ace claps his hands together, flops onto a stool, and shouts toward the bar, “Alright, Jimin! Hit me with a Coca-Cola—I’m fucking thirsty!”

Jimin, unfazed, quirks an eyebrow. “Watch your mouth, rockstar,” he says, already reaching for the glasses.

The others chime in, each echoing Ace’s order like it’s part of a ritual. Coke all around.

“When are you guys on?” you ask casually, turning to Mina as she sips from her drink. Her eyes are bright beneath the dim bar lights, and you blink. Damn, her eyeliner’s sharp enough to kill. It makes her look fierce. Electric.

“In about twenty minutes,” she says, voice calm, a soft smile curving her lips like she’s done this a thousand times before. “Jk’s opening on drums—Jack takes over after he finishes the first song.”

You nod, picturing it. Jungkook behind the kit again. The lights. The sound. The pulse of something being reborn.

“Oi, Mina!” Daniel calls from the other end of the bar, half-lounging over his stool. “Quit flirting with Jungkook’s bestie and finish your drink—we’re up soon!”

Mina groans and rolls her eyes, but her grin gives her away. “I’m not flirting,” she mutters as she raises her glass. “I’m being polite.”

You smirk, and she clinks her glass against yours anyway.

There’s a hum in the air now. Something about the way the kids shift in their seats, glance at the clock, tap their fingers to an invisible beat. A collective breath held, waiting to be released the moment they step on stage.

And through it all, Jungkook’s knee bounces beneath the table, his fingers twitching like they already hear the opening riff in his head.

The bar dims a little more, lights overhead shifting to a deep red hue. A hush rolls through the room—not complete silence, but that charged pause just before something erupts. The kind of silence that makes your skin prickle.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Mina says, swinging her keyboard bag over her shoulder as she hops off the stool. The others follow, a quiet intensity settling over their faces like masks. The joking, the teasing, the sugary buzz of Coca-Cola—all of it vanishes in the electric stillness of the pre-show moment.

Jungkook gets up too, a small crease between his brows, lips pressed together in a thin line. You nudge his arm gently as he passes by.

“You’ve got this, bestie,” you whisper.

He glances back at you. A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes—those big, dark eyes—are filled with something you haven’t seen in a while.

Fear.

But also: fire.

He doesn’t say anything. Just nods.

On stage, Jack claps him on the shoulder before handing him the sticks. The kids do a final check—Mina tapping her keys, Dan tuning his bass, Ace slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder. The room starts to buzz again, people murmuring, turning toward the stage, phones raised. Someone yells out a “WOOO!” and Alex, leaning against the side wall, grins like a proud dad.

Mina steps up to the mic. “Hey guys,” she says, her voice steady. “We’re The Strangers, and tonight… we’re doing something a little old school.” She glances at Jungkook. “Featuring a local legend.”

There’s light applause, a couple surprised whistles.

And then—Jungkook lifts the sticks.

He taps the hi-hat four times. It begins.

But then.

Crash.

The beat stumbles. His right hand slips, hitting the rim instead of the snare. The rhythm trips over itself, chaotic and jarring. Ace freezes mid-riff. Mina slams her palm on the keys too early. Dan completely misses the bass cue.

A mess. A beautiful, terrible mess.

A few people in the crowd gasp. One laughs. You wince.

Jungkook, mortified, pauses for half a second—half a second that feels like a lifetime—before whispering, “Shit,” under his breath.

Jack starts to step forward, like he’s ready to take over immediately.

But Jungkook throws up a hand.

“No,” he mutters to the mic, half to himself, half to the crowd. “I got it.”

And this time—he counts again. One, two, three, four—

This time, it hits. Hard. Toxicity intro comes alive—feral, gritty, raw. Ace slams into the opening riff with vengeance, Mina’s synths howling underneath, Dan’s bass like thunder rumbling through the floor. And Jungkook—Jungkook comes back. You can see it in his shoulders, in the way his hair whips around his face. There’s rage and release in every strike of the snare, redemption in the crash cymbals.

The crowd erupts.

Jungkook plays like he’s possessed now, blood rushing, all hesitation gone. His whole body moves with the rhythm, with the madness of it. His face glistens with sweat. He grins—really grins—like he’s high on the beat.

And you? You can’t look away.

This, this is the Jungkook you remember.

A little off at first. But once he finds the groove—

He becomes it.

The crowd is losing their minds.

Phones are raised, heads are banging, and even Jimin—cool, collected, snarky Jimin—is nodding behind the bar with an impressed smirk. Ace and Dan are completely synced, locking in their parts with the kind of chaotic grace that makes you feel like the song might fall apart at any moment, but never does. Mina’s eyes are closed, fingers dancing across the keys, mouth moving along to lyrics.

And Jungkook—

God.

His hair sticks to his forehead in messy strands, and there’s a flush creeping down his neck, veins flexing on his forearms every time he slams into the snare. He looks like he’s burning up—like every part of him is charged. The black t-shirt he’s wearing is soaked down the back, clinging to him like a second skin, and when he tilts his head back in rhythm, biting his lip and closing his eyes—

You feel it.

In your chest. In your throat.

Oh God.

You shouldn’t be thinking this. He’s your best friend. He’s taken. He’s Jungkook. But you’re human and he’s—he’s just so magnetic up there. Confident. Wild. Beautiful.

It rattles something in you.

You look away for a second, shaking your head as if that’ll snap you out of it. But then you hear the bridge hit—Mina’s synths wailing, Ace’s guitar almost screaming—and you glance back.

He’s looking at you.

Just for a second.

Not long enough for anyone else to notice. But long enough for you to feel your heartbeat quicken like it’s trying to keep up with the tempo of his drums.

Long enough to wonder if he knows what he’s doing to you.

And then, just as quickly, it’s over.

The final notes ring out, loud and proud, and Jungkook hammers the crash cymbals like punctuation marks. The sound reverberates through the bar, into your ribs, your skin. Everyone’s screaming and clapping and whistling. Alex is on his feet, yelling something you can’t even hear. Jimin throws a towel toward the stage.

But you?

You’re frozen.

Emotion crashes into you like a wave—unexpected, heavy, cold. It’s not about attraction anymore. It’s not even about the performance. It’s the moment. The way Jungkook looked up, eyes shining, chest heaving, smiling like he hadn’t smiled in years.

It’s the way he came back to life in front of you.

And you realize, achingly, that this is what you’ve missed all along.

Not the friendship. Not the ease. Not the safety.

You missed him. That version of him. The one who lets himself feel joy without guilt. The one who belongs somewhere.

And for some reason, that breaks your heart.

Because he’s not yours to keep.

Not really.

Jungkook jumps off the stage like he’s weightless, flushed and glowing, his chest heaving as if he’s just run a marathon and won. The crowd still buzzes with leftover energy, but he’s already moving toward you—wild-eyed and breathless.

Before you can react, he wraps you in a hug, tight and full-bodied, arms locking around you like you’re the one anchoring him to the ground. You barely have time to think before you’re melting into it, laughing as your arms wind around his back.

“Holy shit,” he gasps into your ear, voice cracking with joy. “Did you see that? I didn’t tank it! I came back! I actually pulled it off!”

“You did, Kook, you killed it out there.”

He pulls back just enough to grab your face between both hands, calloused palms cradling your cheeks. His eyes are shining—shining—with something raw and real and so reminiscent of the boy he used to be, your chest squeezes tight.

“I thought I was gonna choke after that first beat,” he breathes, grin splitting his face. “But then I looked at the kids. And I looked at you. And it felt like I was supposed to be right there.”

Your heart stutters. “You looked like yourself up there.”

His expression shifts—just for a moment—and then his forehead drops to yours.

The contact is light. Barely there.

But it crackles.

It’s intimate and fleeting and charged, his breath brushing your lips, and your entire body locks up. You should move. You should really move. But you don’t. Neither does he.

You both just breathe.

And in that breath, something slips.

Not love.

Not lust.

But something terrifyingly in between.

“I should do this more often,” he murmurs, still forehead-to-forehead with you, eyes fluttering shut for half a second. “Feel like this.”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to say anything that might break the moment. That might remind either of you that he’s not yours to lean into like this. Never was.

But then the room reminds you for you.

A cheer goes up. Someone shouts his name. Laughter rings out.

And when he opens his eyes and sees how close you are, the spell breaks.

He steps back, a breath catching like it hurts. His hands fall slowly from your face as if letting go costs something.

You say nothing.

Neither does he.

Instead, you both turn—wordlessly—and slide onto the barstools beside each other.

Jungkook drums his fingers against the wood, still jittery with leftover adrenaline, while you pretend to focus on the drink Jimin sets in front of you.

Your shoulder brushes his.

He doesn’t move.

Neither do you.

But the silence between you is deafening.

Your chest feels too tight. Your throat too full.

And for a second—just a second—you wonder what would’ve happened if you told him everything when you were younger.

You wonder what it would feel like if it were you he could come back to.

But you don’t ask.

And he doesn’t offer.

So you both just sit there—shoulder to shoulder, forehead memory still warm—and pretend nothing happened at all.

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @santiiagopopegarcia @jadaocon1 @asyr97 @gukieater @themwordsblog @whatevevrerr @amarawayne @tititania @guwol @reallygenerouskoala @bgfdcvbnjk @kyljjk @whoa-jo @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @upo1313 @polnaraffsrack @tatzzz-25 @orphicepiphany @coletaehyung @bjoriis @epiphany-n @kimyishin @eegyo @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @parkinglot-nights @mar-lo-pap @evrsncenewyork @jjeonjjk7 @minghaosimp @cerulean1riz @anumita-2007 @vantelover1306 @vynmin @nadzzzblog @jnghs @lachimolalajeon @joonwater @choijay-07 @notsevenwithyou @mononoaware16 @sky-23s-world @auroresce @sadgirlroo @arcadiaem @kokoandkookie @nakyra2 @kissyfacekoo @butterymin

[mydearzero]

The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter. 

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, no warnings apply for this chapter.

A/N: Wow chapter 2 only one day later? Crazy! I already promise that's not a rate I'll keep up, lmao.

Read it on AO3 Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Keep Him Happy

1.5K words

So, Bob was not, in fact, a child. He was a grown man who seemed perfectly capable of taking care of himself. His face was somewhat youthful, so you weren’t sure exactly how old he was, but you’d wager it was older than you. 

“Why is it exactly that you need a babysitter?” You asked directly. No use beating around the bush. You ignored the whole flashback memory thing, guessing you’d be enlightened with the details when the rest of the team came back. It wasn’t exactly a fond experience. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say babysitter… It’s just, uh… best to not leave me to my own devices, I guess,” he shrugged. You nodded awkwardly, not sure what to make of the situation. The promised pay was good, you wouldn’t actually have to take care of him, just keep him company. It didn’t seem like a bad deal. 

But even then, he was obviously unstable. Maybe what he needed was a mental health professional, not a ‘babysitter.’ You were probably just a temporary solution. 

You sat in an awkward silence for a while, sipping your drink every now and then trying to think of a lighthearted topic to entertain him with. “So… Tell me about yourself, Bob.” 

“Well, I’m… Bob. Short for, uh, Robert, as you might’ve guessed,” Bob nodded. You sighed inwardly, this was going to be tougher than you expected. Children were usually a lot easier, willing to tell you all of their and their parent’s business. Cats were even better, no need for talking. Bob was going to take some work. 

“How’d you end up here, with these people, I mean?” You wondered. He seemed normal enough, but obviously the ‘New Avengers’ cared about him enough to try and keep him out of harm's way and around their building. 

“It’s kind of a funny story, really. One second I’m in Malaysia in some lab for a medical study, the next I wake up in this bunker with these guys trying to kill each other…” 

You squint your eyes in question. “That is… Funny?” 

“Yeah now that I’m putting it like that it doesn’t sound very funny, does it?” Bob chuckled. It seemingly broke some of the tension. He asked you a few questions about yourself and your contact with Alexei. 

“He seems very sweet,” you concluded. Bob agreed, letting you know the man definitely had his heart in the right place, though sometimes a bit overenthusiastic. 

He told you about the rest of the team, and you noticed he was inconspicuously perceptive. He went one by one, wasting time by talking about the people surrounding him most days. 

“Yelena looks really tough, and she is! But she’s really a big softie,” Bob spoke of her very fondly, a twinkle of adoration in his eyes. 

“Ava’s a bit of a tough nut to crack, but she has a really good sense of humour. She’s a bit more reserved, but really has your back when you need her. She’ll deny it, though.” 

You poured yourself another glass of soda, offering Bob one as well. He declined but thanked you for the offer to a degree which dazed you. You took a mental note of the skittish demeanour. 

“John’s an asshole. Can’t really put it anyway else. He’s here, he’ll show up for the others, but… I can’t really say I’ve come to like him like the others. I’d put it as toloration. I mean he has a history… But who doesn’t? Doesn’t give him the right to be a douche, you know?” He obviously had a strong sense of righteousness, and John did not fit into that picture. 

“And lastly there’s Bucky, but I’m sure you know about him. Congressman and such. He’s not around here much. He tries to be, but I feel like he’s still a bit wary of the team. Part of me thinks he just doesn’t want to get attached, which I can understand, given his past…” Bob looked out the window, seemingly lost in a deep thought. His eyes glazed over and an overwhelming sadness overtook his face. It’d gotten dark in the time you’d been here, the city skyline lit up with artificial lighting. 

“Whatever you do, try to keep him happy, distracted and away from danger.” Yelena’s words echoed in your head. There was likely a good reason for the particular instructions. 

“Well, Bob, thank you for opening up and telling me about them. I feel like we’re likely gonna be spending some more time together, so I really appreciate that you feel safe enough to share,” you smiled, distracting him from his spiralling thoughts. 

Bob smiled before looking a little confused at his own actions. You felt like he might’ve maybe shared a little more than he’d intended. 

You were racking your brain for another topic to talk about when the elevator doors opened once again. Bob deflated, hunching in on himself and making himself visibly smaller. You hadn’t even noticed how his posture had opened up during your conversation.

It was Yelena and Alexei, joking with each other in, was that Russian? They walked in as if they hadn’t just fought off whatever it was that had ransacked the subway and blasted itself into the building. You looked at them expectantly, waiting to finally get an explanation. 

“Ah, right, babysitter. It’s quite late, maybe you should head home?” Yelena suggested, cracking her neck while unloading a few weapons on a side table like she was dropping off her keys after coming home from the office. 

“Was this just a one time thing, or will I be coming back?” You wondered. You could use the money.  

“That depends… Bob? Do you like her?” 

Bob spluttered and gaped at Yelena, unsure of how to answer. “I– I mean, yeah, she’s– She’s nice. I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“We can find different babysitter if you want. Many more on the app,” Alexei chimed in as he huffed and puffed, trying to get his suit off in the middle of the living room. It looked more like he was doing a form of experimental yoga. 

“No, no. This one’s fine,” Bob winced. You’d really have to come up with a different title than ‘babysitter’ if this was going to become a lasting thing. 

“Good, then she stays. Ava and John are debriefing Bucky. It was just some lowlife with some experimental tech, but man, whatever he was shooting with stung like a b–” 

“Lena, language, we have guest,” Alexei shushed her. Yelena rolled her eyes in response. 

She nodded her head at you, motioning for you to come with her. You shot Bob a quick glance, who gave you a tight lipped smile but seemingly encouraged you to go with her. 

Yelena took you to a smaller separate sitting room and offered you a glass of whiskey, which you refused. “No drinking on the job,” you laughed. 

“So, you’re probably wondering, why does a grown man need a babysitter? Well, I’m gonna explain. But first, what did Bob tell you?” she started, sitting down next to you and leaning on the back of the couch, resting her head in her hand. You mimicked her relaxed posture, putting a leg up on the couch. 

“Not much, really. He told me a bit about you guys and how you met. He mentioned something about a medical study in Malaysia, but other than that nothing too memorable.” 

“Did you happen to shake his hand?” Ah, there it was. Yelena could tell by your expression the answer was yes. 

“Yeah, it happened to us, too. You see, Bob… He’s very strong. Stronger than all of us combined. But he’s not stable. He’s a bit of a grey area in the team. We keep him around because he’s nice, of course, but also because we can’t risk anybody else trying to get on his good side and abusing his trust.” She took a sip of the whiskey, relishing its taste before continuing. 

“We’re still not really sure what his powers are, and it’s also not up to me to disclose all of the information besides the basics. All I can tell you is that we can’t risk taking him into the field, but we also can’t risk leaving him alone for too long. His abilities are closely tied to his mental wellbeing. It sounds a little degrading to describe it this way,” Yelena winced. She evidently had very conflicting feelings on the topic. You understood it must be difficult, wanting to keep him out of harm’s way without babying him. 

“But it’s really a matter of keeping him happy and distracted when it’s necessary. He needs help, a lot of it, but we just haven’t had the time to figure out how to go about it. So for now, this is it. I’m sorry for all the confusion, but with a ‘job’ as unpredictable as ours, this is the reality. Can you handle that?” Her gaze was piercing, as if she was trying to read every single thought crossing your mind. 

“You care about him deeply,” you observed. 

She gave a fond smile. “I do.” 

“Then I think I can handle it. As long as I don’t have to lie to him or beat around the bush, I can do my best to keep him company and help wherever I can. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I’ll try.” 

“That’s all we ask.” 

It was settled, then. You were hired. 

TAGLIST: @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @hopes-peak-akademy @rattheraddestrat @i-shall-abide @puer-aurea @kennywantskfc69 @spectacled-studies @hiddlebatchedloki

[chleem]

Thinking of bf drew having a rough day at work and going to gf reader for comfort

⋆.˚ idk if this was a request or not but i wrote it anyways !

word count: 1.1k

──── 𝜗𝜚 ─────

You’re laying on the couch, blanket over your body and tv controller in one hand as you flipped through the channels. 

You finally stop on one that showed your favorite movie. You’re a few minutes in, when the front door unlocks. 

The sound echoes through the apartment, followed by shoes being taken off, jacket zipper undone and thrown on a nearby surface. You hear plastic bags placed on the table, and the front door slamming shut again. 

You look over. 

Drew stands at the counter, leaning heavily against it. His hat is pulled low, casting a shadow over his eyes, but you can see the tight set of his jaw, the way he’s biting on his bottom lip. 

Something’s wrong. It doesn’t take an expert to notice. 

You kick off your blanket, and walk over to him. You tilt your head slightly as you want to make eye contact under his hat.

Once you do, you see the tiredness in them. 

You give him a soft smile, “hey, Joseph.”

Your voice is light, soft, just like it always is. 

You move away and take the plastic bags, unloading the groceries, getting ready to prepare dinner. The only sound that fills the space between you two is the soft ruffling of the bags and the low hum of the TV in the background. 

Then, out of nowhere, as your back is turned towards Drew- arms wrap around your waist.

The suddenness of it makes you freeze for just a moment.

He nuzzles his face into your shoulder, the tip of his nose rubbing against your skin, breathing in deeply. His hat still shields away his expression; but enough for you to know something might’ve happened today that upset him. 

He’s pressing his weight into you, pushing you against the counter. His presence is heavy, warm, like he’s grounding himself to you.

You drop the groceries, and instinctively, you rest your hands on his wrists, one of which has his watch. 

You stay silent, and it only makes him hold on tighter. 

He kisses your shoulder; the soft press of his lips. 

He kisses again, landing on your bra strap (that’s exposed because of your off-shoulder top).

He bites your bra strap, tugging it gently between his teeth. 

He takes your hands in his, balling it up and just holding it. 

“…hey, baby,”

Drew finally says, his voice raspy and breath tickling your ear. 

You lean back, turning your head to look at him. The blue of his eyes peek out from underneath his hat, and he’s got the faintest smile on his face.

“Hey, Joseph,” you repeat, whispering, smiling like there was an inside joke of some kind going on. 

He licks his lips, and cocks his head to the side to get a better look at you. 

“Kiss me.”

“Hmm?” 

“Kiss me,” he says again, a little more edge in his voice. He’s demanding, but cute enough that it feels playful. 

“Why?”

“You…you need a reason to kiss me?”

You giggle, and reach up to take his hat. Carefully, you place it on the counter, before your fingers slide into his hair, fixing his hair, gently smoothly out the strands. 

It’s a casual task- but there’s something intimate in the way you’re touching him, something that makes the moment feel quieter, more personal.

His eyes never leave you. 

“There,” you smile, dropping your hands, “now, you wanna talk about it?” 

“Kiss me first. C’mon.”

You smile at his insistence, leaning in and purposely pressing your lips to the corner of his eye.

You pull away, and as you do, he’s got that knowing smile tugging at his lips, the amusement flickering there.

He puckers up his lips to give you another chance. 

“Here, babe.”

“Here?” You ask, before kissing his cheek. You laugh, and he scoffs under his breath. 

He shifts behind you, standing up straighter now, the weight lifting off your shoulders. His arms still wrapped around you.

Then, he leans down and kisses you, direct, urgent, and definitely one that shouts, ‘comfort me, cherish me, love me’, as ridiculous as it sounds. 

You smile as you kiss back, the familiar motion of thrusting into his mouth. You’ve explored his mouth so many times that each kiss feels like a familiar language; one only the two of you speak. The taste of him, the way his lips move with yours, it’s almost like a dance you’ve both perfected without thinking.

There’s an ease in the way your lips meet, an unspoken comfort that comes from knowing every little touch that makes him respond. It feels like home, like the two of you are syncing in a way that’s deeper than just the kiss itself.

Yet, as your breathing becomes uneven, you break off. 

He leans in for seconds; but you place a hand on his chest. 

You blink up into his blue eyes, and your other hand lightly wipes away the spot of saliva on his lips. 

It’s clear he’s had a rough day. Probably at work, where he had a conflict with a co-worker, lost something important, or maybe it was just the buildup of everything. 

But you know, without needing to ask, that he’s just seeking solace in your presence, in your arms. And you’re more than willing to give him that, to be the quiet refuge he needs until he’s ready to open up.

Whatever it is, he’s tired, exhausted to the point that, as you stare into his eyes, you can see just how gone he is.

You tilt your head slightly, offering him a soft smile, the warmth of your voice carrying the gentleness he craves. “You hungry?”

“…no.”

“Then watch tv with me.”

You don’t wait for him to respond; your hands are already at his wrist, dragging him gently toward the couch.

He doesn’t resist- just follows, like his body knows yours is where he needs to be. You fix the blanket with one hand, smoothing it out enough to make space, then lay down and open your arms up for him.

Drew smiles lazily as he stares down at you, his eyes soft. Then he plops down on top of you- not squish, just to settle into the space. You’ve cuddled like this a thousand times; and both of you instinctively fall into place, the way your bodies seem to mould into each other like puzzle pieces.

He exhales, a long, steady breath that says more than words ever could. 

And you just hold him as he snuggles into you, letting the hum of the tv and the rhythm of your heartbeat say the rest.

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

i daydream about writing more than i actually write

elevator | other

[wei-meddling-wuxian]

I didn't expect a response to my tags - I just left them there on a whim for me to get back to and ponder (hence the lotus pods tag for myself) so this response is going to be scattered. Some of it is based on the minimal experience I have with danmei, my lot of experience with fantasy (and my own upbringing in an Indian/asian household)

I don't expect JFM "being better" to fix the whole problem - YZY is still there causing her own problems - going back to "attempt the impossible" the importance is for JFM to still try, and try visibly (I don't know about you but if my mom yelled at my dad for not caring enough about me and he did nothing to actually refute it or didn't refute it convincingly or at least didn't come to talk to me about it after, I'd be pretty hurt. sure there's no point in arguing with YZY who will continue to yell about it but either take her out of the room so you don't argue in front of the kids or fight back to show you care in anyway isn't good enough) - if he fought back off screen or sat down with JC, there's no evidence of it that I've seen (and considering how jc keeps revisiting the past, I would expect to see something)

I also don't think JFM is a bad guy, just flawed, - he's arguably the best dad, consider WRH and JGS spoil their kids while not raising them, JGS neglecting and abusing his illegitimate children and QHJ just didn't raise his kids at all. I also think he loves JC as his son, he just didn't like him as a person and he made that very clear to the point JC and people outside of the sect realized it too. And yes its a character flaw and make him more real that he's strong in his conviction but also refuses to intervene but my point is that there are somethings worth breaking the mold for and your child should be one of them

I do think at least 70% of jfm and jc's relationship issues is just finding the right wavelength to settle on - like the conversation at wwx's bed with jfm and jc after wwx is rescued from the cave - jc was very insensitive with what he said but his tone and behaviour (especially after we see that he drastically shortened the journey back to get aid, travelled tirelessly and carried wwx on his back) shows that he was worried about jc (his priorities throughout the series is clearly family > sect > everything else) show something different - which wwx can see but jfm can't - and clearly jfm was right to point out that jc's words were insensitive and wrong but there's something called framing - and that comes with knowing someone (the way I would say something to my mom is very different than how I would talk to a friend or my boss). JC has just come from a very tense and exhaustive situation (to be fair, I tend to give jc more grace because 90% of the situations he's in are high stress and exhaustive) and he's panicked and worried and the praise wwx's receiving for killing a mythological creature doesn't negate the risk or the injuries or the danger wwx is in and that should be called out too but isn't (or isn't to the degree that it should be for jc) . also one thing that grates my gear with parents and jfm too, is the belief that you can't teach them or nurture them - this interaction feels like jfm believes jc has "bad traits" too close to yzy and there for are innate flaws that can't be addressed and I just don't believe parents should be allowed to settle for this . adding this miscommunication + jc feeling like he doesn't get support or attention from jfm (the dogs getting taken away it seems without any meaningful convo, the only handful hugs) and you don't get a really good picture (again there are biases here but there's some basis for this too)

Arguing about CSSR Rumors - one thing mdzs makes very clear is that rumors matter, even if they aren't true but aren't fully lies either - wwx did create a heretical form of cultivation that is detrimental to the psyche of a person and he did kill a shit ton of people in Nightless City and he did house Wens in the burial mounds - contexts tell us his motives weren't malicious but was done in desperation but doesn't erase the people that died and the consequences of his actions --- kind of off tangent but asoiaf has a similar scenario where catelyn stark has to raise her kids along side her husband's bastard child - she was cold to him because he was a threat to her kids inheritance (precedent exists in universe re; blackfyre rebellion) but she didn't abuse him or hurt him in anyway (just didn't interact with him) - so in a patriarchal society, jfm's actions and behaviour has a lot of weight and while yzy is toxic in her own right, most women are aware of their station and what it means and if she truly saw WWX as a threat to her children (and it happens canonically - jgy got to lead llj by his intelligence but also blood claim through the paternal side) and not good to have close to them and hated those rumors, the least that JFM could have done was publicly affirm who WWXs parents are and deny any allegations - again it might not have fixed things but at least we can see he tried

taking into account yzy's reaction to wwx would be another thing - jfm rooming wwx (a servant's son) with jc (sect heir) probably pushed the situation into the "too late to do anything about it category" but still, at least get them out of there | kind of tying into the head disciple thing (and I do get this could have been done to position him to be the right hand of the sect leader and also give him a place to belong in ymj) , I didn't expect that jc would be head disciple instead, in my head it was another shixiong - with respect to the duties of a head disciple, since they're still kids, I put it at camp councilor with bit extra and as someone who was one while I was a teenager, yea you need to be engaging and fun and creative but you also need to be organized, patient and establish the rules early on and the latter half of these traits are more important - i think WWX is very much a trendsetter but doesn't really have the mindset or traits of an effective leader in the longterm; I brought up some sort of talisman station as an idea, I don't think he should be solely responsible for it either - basically some way to get out his creative juices and let him belong in another way in a way that won't so easily put him in comparison with jc who is the same age as him, is the sect heir and is "falling behind" because he can't keep up with a once-in-a-lifetime genius wwx- his blatant favoritism of wwx is making things worse - as for yzy taking it out on disciples, jfm is the sect leader, his word is essentially, if she's able to do all this, it's with him not actively stopping it. and normally i would be against using power like this but when it comes to children who can't protect themselves? you do what you have to do

I personally don't only look at just the text and take it at face value - at least the way I read, it requires some extrapolation to speculate and grow theories and its just more fun to discuss so sure we don't have enough information for a full picture but there's enough to at least create an image of some sort - that includes politics, sexism, racism, classism and more - so yea I think yzy is the worse parent but I also want to take into account her role as a woman, female cultivator and a mother. which adds layers - yzy is an abusive parent but context is important, just like it was for wwx (as for JGS pulling on JC's strings - we are told that JC is going into this meeting super tired, is stressed out by being a sect leader so young with the right hand he was promised and cared for skimping of his duties - he's not really in the mental state to decode an adult sect leader who is skilled at manipulation

i do think the jfm hate goes over the top and there isn't enough calling out yzy on her abusive behavior but I also think a part of it is the difference - yzy is overtly and clearly abusive, jfm isn't abusive but the way he goes about things and the favoritism and resulting comparisons stings in a different way that I relate to as an Indian kid with a very impressive older brother and a very impressive friend (both of whom I love to peaces but coming to terms with myself did impact my side of my relationship with both of them (not to the degree it did these characters tho)) - a little bit of a side tangent with favoritism and it's political impact is shown when wwx punches jzx in the face for acting lackadaisical towards jyl but also points out how its widely known that jfm favors wwx over jc who is the sect heir and then we have the following scene where jc states that he was close to punching jzx as well and wwx comments that if he did, at least jfm wouldn't come (this entire scene shows how other sects are perceiving jfm's favoritism and how, probably through rumors, it's impacting their dynamic) - so if someone inside the sect (wwx), outside the sect in their cohort (jzx) and someone outside the sect from a different generation (jgs) call out this dynamic, then its clearly more longstanding than a few jabs here and there and yzy's explosive tantrums.

Overall, I do think JFM is a good person, it's the "is he a good parent?" debate that's more grey (and if the bar is yzy, then yea he's fine but is that where we're keeping the bar?)

to each their own 🤷‍♀️

The reason I keep banging the Jiang Fengmian drum so hard is not that he did nothing wrong--he's definitely in contention for best parenting in this book but that bar is in the ground--but because most of the takes I see about him are so extremely bad.

If you want to slag him off for trying to make choices that would hurt no one, and winding up properly protecting no one as a result, that's valid! That's an interesting and text-based critique, which opens into his parallels with Lan Xichen!

If you want to blame him for being weirdly over-invested in Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng being bffs, that's fair, that definitely contributed to the weirdness between them. If you want to say he was a poor communicator, that he fundamentally misunderstood his son, that he failed to be emotionally available in a way his kids could get much use out of, even that he should have figured out a way to stop Yu Ziyuan from creating such a hostile environment, all of that is fair game!

If you want to tackle how the worst thing he did to his kids was die I am so interested in how Wei Wuxian went on to abandon A-Yuan by going to his death, and how that might be tied to how his primary adult role model tied him to a boat and went off to a fight he knew he was going to lose.

After his parents had already left him like that once before, presumably less intentionally.

But no, instead I keep seeing that Jiang Fengmian didn't care. That he never expressed affection. That he actively participated in Yu Ziyuan's fucky game of forcing proxy conflict onto the boys instead of constantly trying (and failing) to shut it down, or that he ignored her bad behavior because it didn't affect him, or that he fought with her constantly, or that he was too much of an unmanly coward to stand up to her when she wanted something.

All of which are directly in contradiction to every scene he's in, and several of which manage to invert or erase the actual conflicts between him and his wife that were the source of all that tension.

And which are really interesting, because some of the most intractable elements are ideological--Yu Ziyuan is fundamentally a conservative and Jiang Fengmian seems to want to be an egalitarian, which ofc matched poorly with his hereditary authority as patriarch of a large sect.

The fact that the bit where we get to actually see him failing to parent Jiang Cheng consists of him gently and firmly trying to correct Jiang Cheng's ethics when what was actually needed in that moment was reassurance for the well-founded insecurities that were causing him to be a little bitch, only for Yu Ziyuan to charge in and make everything fifty times worse, is so much more interesting than literally any version of this family dynamic I have seen in fic. It's to the point I'm relieved when writers kill Jiang Fengmian off, because it means they probably won't feel the need to character-assassinate him too badly.

The number of people I've seen come right out and say some variation of 'men can't be abused' is killing me here. No, Yu Ziyuan wanting to hurt her husband does not constitute sufficient proof that he abused her first and deserved it! That's not how anything works!

[missmoonfrost]

Found in Barty's kitchen - a Jegulus microfic

@into-the-jeggyverse - May 8: Disappear - Words: 600 - warning: alcohol consumption

Regulus found himself sitting on Barty's kitchen floor, hyperventilating and drinking straight from the bottle of wine that Barty offered. No judgement there.

It had been a while since he had spiralled like this, but apparently, he still did when things got too much.

His phone rang again. He didn't answer.

The bottle was almost empty and Regulus had started remembering how to breathe when there was an insistent knock on Barty's door.

"Is he here?" Regulus heard Sirius' concerned voice.

"What am I, your private intelligence service?" Barty drawled coldly.

"It's okay," Regulus croaked, "I'm here."

Sirius shoved his way past Barty and crouched beside Regulus with his arms crossed.

"The fuck, Reg? Answer your phone!"

"Don't talk to me."

"James is getting hysterical. And you are..."

"Pathetic? Failing at everything?!"

Sirius sighed and sat down beside Regulus with his back against the kitchen counter.

"I wanted to say selfish and mean, but seeing you, I think it's rather scared and irrational."

There was a long silence. Regulus took another sip from the bottle, then offered it to Sirius, who drank the last of it.

“Oi, I never offered you”, Barty muttered, “you owe me a new bottle.”

“Piss off, can’t you see we need a moment?”

“This is my home, for fuck’s sake!”

Sirius showed him his middle finger. Barty returned the gesture, then disappeared.

Regulus took a deep breath. “He asked me to move in with him.”

“You don’t have to. It’s a big step and –“

“I want to.”

“Then what is the matter?”

“He has a baby.”

“I admittedly only got James’ version of the story,” Sirius said cautiously, “but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t expect you to be involved if you don’t want to.”

“I know.”

“Are you worried you will be anyway?”

Regulus looked down, picking at the edges of the label on the bottle. What could he say to make Sirius understand this? “Sort of.”

“You know what I’m terrified of?” Sirius continued in a lower voice, “Being like them one day. But I don’t think we will, none of us. If we inherited being bad parents, why wouldn’t we be able to change that just as we have changed everything else?”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m a good parent or not. If I’m there… You know what: even if I don’t move in, even by just being part of James’ life, Harry will see me. He will get to know me. He will look to me as an example of how to be an adult. And I’m just not… I’m not someone that anyone should strive to be.”

“Oh, Reg!” Sirius wailed and looked painedly at him. “You are amazing! Only for thinking that way, you are a better person than most. You don’t have to be perfect to be a good role model to a kid. You just have to be trying your best.”

Regulus looked at him doubtfully.

“Okay”, Sirius sighed and put an arm around his shoulders, “like this: you feel overwhelmed and like you’ll never be good enough, but you know it’s not really true, right?”

Regulus nodded reluctantly, and Sirius continued: “What do you want to teach a child to do in that situation? What behaviour do you want to model?”

Regulus took a few deep breaths, letting that sink in. Screw his brother for always being so emotionally well-articulated. Maybe therapy wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Regulus put the bottle aside, cleared his throat and asked: “Could you give me a ride?”

“Of course. Were to?”

“I imagine you know where James is?”

[cultkinkcoven]

The hard truth about occultism and witchcraft is that you genuinely do have to be willing to lose your mind. That’s not me romantisizing mental struggle or psychosis.

The thing no one talks about, at least not honestly, is the threshold one passes in initiation, where the mystical, psychological, symbolic and literal merge. When I say you have to be willing to lose your mind, I mean you have to be willing to accept the possibility that you may in fact be crazy. Your worst possible fear, none of this is real and it’s all happening in your head. What will you do if you realize you’re simply crazy? The wise man will turn away, but the initiate, the alchemist, will be unphased.

All people who dabble with spirituality and occultism will eventually meet this threshold. When things actually start working, when your spells yield results, when the impossible occurs and you truly have no other explanation. When the Gods finally respond. Be willing to lose your mind, be willing to experience things you cannot explain. And be willing to talk to yourself with the honesty that you simply cannot know. That’s what makes your faith and pursuits worthy.

The most talented and most powerful witches and magis are those who do not flinch when the impossible occurs. They no longer question themselves about the absurdity, they no longer wonder if any of this is real because they know it doesn’t matter. And that’s why they’re so powerful, they have complete faith that their work is very real. And when someone challenges that, they don’t crumble, they rise. Because the challenge in that idea is worthy of pursuit itself. Maybe we are crazy, maybe this is just in our mind. The significance however, that is real and that stays, regardless.

Yap yap yap

We talk a lot in this community about the concept of “awakening” to your psychic abilities. Sensing energy, having divine intuition, telling fortunes and affecting the world through intention. But we hardly ever expose that before those gifts explode, there is always a period of what feels like insanity. The mind interrogating itself. Sensitivity to the mystical. It feels like being given access to the background code of your simulated reality, and realizing that the same code is written into your flesh, mind and soul.

Tldr. Witchcraft is very aesthetically pleasing, very pretty. We often don’t show the very ugly side of it, the white knuckles, the tears and chaos. Inviting these forces into your life is not trivial, not at all. They will force you to change and they will force you to lose your mind, even if only to teach you how to find it.

Every few months a friend of mine who is also a witch will come to me and express that she thinks she’s losing her mind again. And I smile because I know that she must be growing so much, getting so much more powerful. And a couple days ago, when I went to her and expressed that I was losing my mind again, she laughed too.

“Welcome to the next phase of your journey with Lord Lucifer!”

and her saying that immediately made everything click. I’m still being tested and cultivated. This bought of insanity is surely far from the last i will experience. Getting this far and surviving means I am not only advancing, I am continuing to grow into the role I was meant to serve for him.

Anyways, if you get to that point in your practice where you feel like you’re at your breaking point, I won’t fault you for stepping back. That’s the logical decision.

But I can also assure you, you are not alone. The mystic floats in the same waters the psychotic drowns. It may feel like you’re drowning and struggling, you may in fact just be learning how to tread water. and if you think you’re beyond this phenomenon, if this has never happened to you.

Oh, just you wait.

[melwnst]

Hiiiiiiii! We haven't interacted much but you show up quite a bit on my feed. I have a scenario that I just don't feel like I can do justice for myself, so I'm entrusting it to someone else to help with your writer's block. (And yes I'm reading this directly from the pin/tweet that made me want to see it written)

You know those scenes in romance books where she hits and punches his chest repeatedly in complete agony until it all gets too much for her to bear so she just slumps into him and sobs and he embraces her like she would disappear if he let go?

Dean x reader pretty please <3

────── ⋆⋅☆ GUILT TRIPPER, D.W

⭑.ᐟ Thanks for the request hun- not sure if this is what you had in mind but I was fighting for my life I needed to write angst. He’s such a fucking cunt in this I actually hate him. Pls interact and send requests if u have any<3

word count. 1k

supernatural masterlist/full masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

You find yourself cursing someone, anyone. Hoping and praying this is just a sick joke. That this isn’t what’s left of it- that this isn’t the final blow. That maybe, it’s just the universe getting back at you, but it’ll come back to normal eventually after it’s taught you a lesson.

It doesn’t.

It probably never will, at least that’s what you tell yourself.

It starts slowly.

It starts with you noticing the looks from across the room at the bar. You see the way she looks at him, but you refuse to acknowledge the way he looks back at her.

Then he stops holding your hand from across the table at that same bar- because she’s there. You know it- deep down, that something’s happening. But you tell yourself that it’s stupid- maybe you’re imagining things. The case is about to be over anyway- and you’ll be on your way, far away from her.

Then- his hand doesn’t lay at the small of your back when you walk into the bar. He doesn’t kiss- look- laugh anymore.

No-he stares. He stares at the same blond, tall, beautiful woman that makes you feel so small, you might shrink to death.

Sam notices it. You know he must’ve told Dean to stop- to pay attention- must’ve cursed at him, because he has you- but you also know it’s no use. When Dean sets his mind to something- someone, he gets it. Because he’s Dean Winchester. Anyone would be crazy to say no to him.

When the case is over- you’re packing your bags, the silence fills the room. It’s so loud- it’s almost scary because all you can hear is the sound of your heartbeat, and Dean’s footsteps.

‘What are you doing?’ He asks, his arms crossed, leaning on the bathroom door.

‘Packing. Why aren’t you?’ You ask, sniffling, because you know exactly why he isn’t.

‘I figured we could use a vacation, maybe stay here a couple more days?’

Then you straighten your back. Your hands go on your waist. And you laugh.

You laugh and turn around to see dean’s confused face looking back at you.

‘We could use a vacation? Seriously? You couldn’t come up with anything else?’ You stare him down, hoping to make him feel the way he’s been making you feel since that first night at the bar although you’re this close to breaking down.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Dean walks closer to you, but you stop him.

‘Don’t.’

‘What are you doing right now?’ His arms wave in the air, like he’s so innocent he has no idea.

‘What’s her name?’

Dean blinks. He blinks- but he doesn’t answer.

‘I know, Dean. I’m not fucking stupid.’ You confess. His eyes still move-erratically. His breath quickens as if he’s scared he got caught.

The silence fills the room again. But this time it’s a quiet silence. The one that doesn’t sound too harsh in your ears. The one that cuts deep. The one that makes you want to die.

It’s your turn to blink, but you blink tears- not guilt. The tears fall- faster, your heart feels like it’s being ripped out of your chest, and soon enough, he talks again.

‘It was one night. I didn’t mean for it to happen.’ It’s faint. Barely audible like he’s ashamed.

The sigh you let out is enough to break his heart.

His heart that didn’t mind breaking yours. Or that didn’t think it would anyway- because for him- it’d stay a secret, hidden deep inside of him, you’d never find out.

‘Right. So you stuck your tongue in her mouth but you had no control right? You were in her but you weren’t thinking? You expect me to believe that bullshit?’

‘Liste-‘

‘No you listen. You’re a fucking coward. I left my whole life behind so I could do this with you. For you! You begged me, Dean. You told me you wouldn’t do this without me. You guilt tripped me into becoming a hunter. Who does that to a person they’re supposed to love? This whole thing was a damn lie!’ You’re closer to him without realizing it. You choke through the tears he’s letting you shed.

‘It was never a lie!’

Then you hit him.

You hit him, again.

And again.

Until your writs, your fists hurt because he deserves it.

‘Yes it was!’

You hit him because you’re breaking. And because he deserves to be hurt.

He deserves to never be loved by anyone ever again because of what he did to you.

Because of all the promises he swore he’d never break but eventually did.

‘I hate you!’ Your fists pump against his chest, the bruises form, he tries to make you stop but figures there’s no point. He deserves it. Maybe he is a coward. No-he definitely is. So he lets you.

He lets you lash out. He lets you hit him so hard your hands are this close to bleeding.

Then the strength fades out. You can’t hit him anymore. You’re trying, but the hate and pain you feel is enough to make you collapse.

You don’t see it, but Dean cries. He cries for you- for what he did to you. He cries because he hates that he’s put you in this position- this state. So the moment you give out under your feet, dean’s right here to hold you. He finds himself on the floor with you. His chest burns, his heart aches, his arms hold your frame like you’re so fragile you might just die because of him.

He’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. He’s scared you’ll hate him for the rest of his miserable life. But he gets what he deserves right? This is all on him.

The worst part is, he’s not sure he regrets it. The only thing he regrets is that he let you find out. That he wasn’t subtle. That he let you get hurt- not because he cheated, but because he could’ve been more careful. Hidden it better.

You’re not sure you can think anymore.

Your brain is fuzzy, your entire body hurts, you feel like your heart’s not working anymore. Or it might give out soon. It’s unfair.

He promised he’d stick with you.

He promised he could love you more than anyone with a normal life could.

He promised he wouldn’t go anywhere.

His first promise was that he wouldn’t let go. He’d be here- it’d be just you, him and Sam.

He lied.

Dean Winchester is a damn liar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @tinas111 @bluemerakis @blossomingorchids @l0v33-rey @mostlymarvelgirl @that-stanford-girlie @sunnyteume @bohoooitsme @beelzebzb (comment to be added!)

[fushigurokogane]

"𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙆𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙉𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚." Pt.3

fem!reader x megumi fushiguro an: hihihihihihi!!! so, im thinking about this, but im not sure if i should do it. Should I make this into a series?? I feel like I could do a few more parts. If you wanna be part of the taglist, just comment below!! Pt.1 - Pt.2

The next few days passed with a new kind of quiet between you and Megumi.

Not the cold kind. Not avoidance.

But the charged kind—like every moment was filled with things neither of you had the nerve to say out loud.

He didn’t tease you again after that night. He didn’t need to. The way his eyes lingered a bit longer, the way his shoulder brushed yours during missions, the way his voice softened when he said your name—it all said enough.

And you were starting to unravel. Slowly, surely. He was becoming a problem.

Because this was Megumi. Stoic, sharp, silent Megumi—who knew how to read a room in five seconds but could ignore his own feelings for years. Who never asked for help but was always the first to show up when you needed him. Who was safest when he was distant, and most dangerous when he started letting you in.

And you’d already been let in.

You just hadn’t figured out what to do with it.

-

It wasn’t until a storm rolled in that things shifted again.

You were curled up on the couch in the shared lounge, rain beating against the windows, a movie playing low on the screen—something dumb and not worth remembering. Everyone else had cleared out for the night, too tired from the latest assignment. But not Megumi. He walked in quietly, a towel around his neck again, dark shirt clinging to his still-damp skin from the shower.

You glanced up. “You know, one day I’ll be emotionally strong enough to see you like this and not short-circuit.”

He didn’t smile, but his voice had a softness to it. “You’ve gotten better.”

You rolled your eyes but made room for him on the couch anyway. He sat next to you, not too close—but close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint cedar of his soap.

The movie played on, unnoticed.

“Hey,” you said after a few minutes, voice quieter. “What you said… the other night. About liking it when I look at you like I see you…”

He turned his head toward you, brows slightly lifted. He remembered.

“…Were you being serious?”

The silence stretched, but not in a bad way. More like he was choosing his words with care.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”

You looked down at your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you were trying to mess with me.”

“Have I ever messed with you like that?”

You paused. “No.”

“Then you should believe me.”

His voice had that depth again—that unshakable calm that only made your heart race faster.

“I see you too, you know,” you said, barely above a whisper. “Not just the strong sorcerer part. I see the way you carry everything. The way you protect everyone even when it tears you up. I see all of it. And I still… like you.”

It felt like dropping a stone into still water. Heavy. Real.

Megumi didn’t speak at first. His eyes just stayed on you, dark and unreadable, but there was something raw in them now. Not vulnerability. Not quite.

Just honesty.

He reached out slowly, his hand brushing your jaw, then resting against your cheek like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him hold you—but hoping you would.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how long I’ve felt this,” he said, voice low, close. “You always looked at me like you knew. Even when I didn’t say a damn thing.”

You leaned into his touch, heart loud in your ears. “Maybe I was waiting for you to catch up.”

His lips curved—not quite a smile. But something softer.

“I’m here now.”

And then—finally, finally—he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that wasn’t rushed or possessive. It was quiet. Steady. Like a truth that had taken its time getting here, but had always known where it was going.

When you pulled back, you stayed close, foreheads touching.

Outside, the storm kept raging.

Inside, for once, everything felt calm. --- Part 4....??? Series..??

taglist: @ehcilhc @amesenseii @vintag3u @obsessivestrawberrysimp @moonymoo1 @arabella0001 @sassymilkshakewitch @sutefa02 @hawkwithsocks @akiducky (I just tagged a bunch of ppl that commented for different parts on other posts)

©fushigurokogane - please do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work!

[moongirlrhea]

an azriel and his best friend drabble - period comfort

this is a drabble in the azriel and his best friend universe, but it can be read as a standalone!!! in the timeline this happens at some point before the events of the series :)

series masterlist

word count: 1.8k

azriel x reader drabble

warnings: descriptions of period pain

a/n: sooo backstory: i had a really bad period last week and it brought me back to when i used to have really bad periods in high school. like passing out and all that so: this fic is the result of that! as always feedback is appreciated, let me know what you think!!!!

She groaned into her pillow as pain pierced through her stomach. She curled tighter into a ball as she fought the tears brimming in her eyes.

She couldn’t take this, she really couldn’t. She hadn’t even known her cycle was coming, with how unregular it was, but this morning she woke to red-stained sheets and a sharp pain shooting through her stomach. And by the time she managed to get the bed, and herself, cleaned up, she was utterly exhausted.

Azriel was at training, so he wasn’t there to help her, which he usually insisted on doing. After first coming to Velaris it was utterly strange for her to have anyone, especially a male help her with her cycle, considering how her entire life she’d been taught it was something to hide, to be …ashamed of. That it was a liability that should be hidden from a lady’s husband, and well she didn’t know why exactly she correlated that with Azriel, but- Anyway. It was standard for her to manage the pain on her own her entire life, although that usually consisted entirely of whining and whimpering in bed alone.

After getting close to Azriel everything changed, and he insisted on taking care of her, which at first was mainly just her trying not to burrow herself into the ground from embarrassment. After a while, however, after first experiencing Azriel’s gentle care and the love he conveyed in it, that quiet compassion and his lack of judgement, she started to let him help her. Although she had to admit, that the mortification she was thought to feel at showing her pain to a male of all people so undeniably, never really went away. Maybe it never would, but Azriel didn’t seem to mind reminding her how there was nothing wrong with being taken care of.

She squirmed again, a big part of her wishing he was here, unable to find a position that would ease the pain even the slightest bit. Sweat beaded at her brow and she whimpered as she lowered herself from her bed, and onto the floor.

It was cool against her skin, making her feel at least a bit less faint. Right? That’s what she thought would happen, but now her breathing shallowed and darkness swam in the edges of her vision.

Gods, the pain- Whimpering, she leaned her head back against the edge of the mattress and suddenly everything around her was blurring and-

Well, that definitely didn’t work in making her feel less faint.

-

Someone was shaking her shoulders.

“Sweetheart-” a familiar voice urged somewhere above her “Wake up, please, come on”

She groaned as she felt pain stab through her again. She was slowly coming about and slowly the realization that she knew that voice washed over her. Gods, what had happened?

“Az?”

“Thank the Mother,” the male crouched above her exhaled in relief “Can you open your eyes for me, love?” he asked in such a soft voice, that she couldn’t not try to.

She cracked her eyes open and looked at Azriel through squinted lids, vision still swimming. But he was already grabbing her forearms and helping her sit up. His touch was so, so gentle as he fussed over her that it had tears brimming in her eyes all over again. Suddenly her best friend’s eyes widened and snapped to hers.

“You’re bleeding. Did you hit your head? What happened, where are you hurt?” The questions were coming at her one after the other, though it was obvious by the pinch of his expression and the furrow of his brow that Azriel was trying extremely hard not to sound too scared. The unconcealable worry in his eyes gave him away.

Had she passed out from the pain? The answer was obvious in her mind and her stomach sank a bit as a pang of embarrassment consumed her. She tried to keep her eyes glued to Azriel as she stayed quiet for longer than needed. Oh, cauldron.

“It's my cycle, Az” she sighed out finally, eyes glancing around the room. Her vision was suddenly drowned in the golden, intense sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Was it midday already? How long had she been out?

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Azriel coaxed her head in his direction by placing a gentle hand on the side of her face. His thumb was stroking gently along her cheekbone as his shadows, who seemed to have noticed her earlier discomfort, shot out to close the curtains, keeping most of the overwhelming light from the room.

“You were at training, I didn’t want to…-” her voice trailed off.

“You should have called for me, you know one of my shadows is always somewhere close” his voice was almost scolding as he studied her with such deep concern in his golden-brown eyes, it almost took her breath away.

“I’m sorry”

“You know that’s not what this is about,” he told her in a soft voice “You always call for me when you’re in pain, alright?”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder in exhaustion before replying. “And that goes the same for you, right?”

A beat of silence ensued before Azriel chuckled, his hand coming to rest on the nape of her neck, fingers brushing through her hair. “It does”

“Alright, then”

Before any of them could say something more, a wave of pain so intense hit her, that she doubled over, gasping.

“Fuck, sweetheart, where do you have your pain tonics? How long ago have you taken one?”

“I haven’t- Ah-,” she gasped as she tried to get the words out “I haven’t taken any” she managed to rasp out, finally.

“What do you mean you haven’t taken any?” she could practically feel the way he froze in front of her, the shadows that had been twirling around her frame going in tow with their master.

“They don’t help anyway” she mumbled through a whimper.

“They don’t help? Love- You passed out on the floor from the pain, for Mother’s sake you can’t-” Azriel said seriously somewhere above her “You need to take care of yourself, we’ve talked about this” he added a bit sternly.

Was he mad at her? As she whimpered from the pain again, an ugly, albeit well known feeling swam through her body. But he wouldn’t think that of her, right? “I’m- I’m sorry” she tried wetly, a bit helplessly, maybe.

He exhaled shakily somewhere next to her “No- No don’t be sorry,” she sniffled at that “Hey, you’re alright. I’m right here. I didn’t mean to- I’m not mad at you, alright?” he said as he gathered her shaking form into his arms. She was a mess, breathing heavily, almost sobbing from the pain.

“It hurts, Az” she felt a stream of salt rivulet down the side of her face.

“I know, I know” he mumbled as he placed her gently on the bed “I just need to get you a tonic, okay sweetheart?”

“No, don’t leave-”

“I know, but I’ll just be a second,” his voice was strained and unsure about leaving her out of his sight in this state. Even for just a moment, but the sight alone of her state cemented the decision for him. She needed medicine. “I’ll be right back”

She groaned as she curled into a ball, breathing heavily through her sobs. There was a muffled conversation in the hallway somewhere but she couldn’t focus at all. Her door closed and opened and a weight appeared on the bed next to her.

Someone was whispering something to her, stroking her back and head gently. But the world around her wasn’t making sense at that moment and it was only after a while that she realized who it was, based solely on the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar that hit her. But the pain was all consuming and in her state of torment she couldn’t even make out his words. A vague, unspecified amount of time passed as she lay there and at some point Azriel must have been gone again, and she heard voices outside her room. And then he was back, coaxing her to turn on her back and sit up.

She squirmed in his arms, eyes closed and face pinched as he tried to adjust her. “Just one second, sweetheart, here,” he said softly as he coaxed a bitter liquid past her lips “There you go, you’ll be better soon”

“I can’t- I can’t do this” she whimpered.

“It’ll be over soon, angel, I promise” there was urgency in his voice, as though he was trying to convince her on something but she couldn’t focus and then-. She was turning over again, intuitively pressing herself into his side. Then there was something hot being pressed against her stomach, and a pair of arms circling around her. Azriel was whispering something to her, trying to comfort her but the words were incomprehensible in her state. Suddenly everything was blurring.

-

Azriel pressed a shaky his on his best friend’s forehead as he held her trembling form in his eyes. It was torture to have to see her like this and he was already berating himself for not keeping up when her cycle would come.

Poor girl.

Thankfully, he bumped into Mor right after going to get a tonic for her, and she happened to have an abundance of the stronger dose that she got from Madja sometime earlier. And so, he could already feel his girl’s form slumping against him, succumbing to sleep.

The plan for the next week was laying itself out in his mind as he held her. He had already sent his shadows to get her favorite foods and snacks from the Rainbow, and Mor promised to ask Madja for more tonics today. So that was covered. The House would supply them with hot water bottles, so he checked that from his list. He would have to check if she was in need of more linens.

There was one thing left to worry about, however. The convincing that it will take him to get her to actually stay in bed, because he was already sure she’d be trying to get up and to work the second she woke up. But it was alright for Azriel to ease his best friend’s mind and make sure she was well taken care of.

That’s what he was there for, and it was a job he’d cherish. Until the end of his days.

taglist: @greenmandm @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @dark-night-sky-99 @ly--canthrope @azrielssgirl @topaz125 @azrielsmate3 @i-am-infinite @stressed-reader @blonde-bansheee @k-homosapien @azysmate @brekkershadowsinger to join let me know under this post

[mereyapalais]

LES RETROUVAILLES

“I’m a married woman boy!” You said looking at him incredulously.

“Happily?” He asked raising one eyebrow at you. You so badly wanted to say yes. The word was on the tip of your tongue, but couldn’t make its way past your lips. He saw your eyes slightly shift to the left before making their way back to his handsome face.

Sensing your hesitation, he looked at you with his infamous panty dropping smile. Dimples making a rare appearance. He smiled, pointing a finger at you, as if to call your bluff.

Lord did you miss him. Those eyes, those lips! And now he has a moustache. You just know it would feel good sitting on his face. That used to be your morning or night routine back when you were together. He would come back to you,tired from the activities of the day or the day prior, and just seek comfort between your cushy thighs. As if the source of life was found between your legs. You didn’t mind.

That’s before he decided to drop you and dip with his brother. It still hurt you up to this day. The way he left, leaving you only a letter, some cash and his necklace around your neck. In the letter he pleaded with you to wait for him. ‘I will be back my love, please be patient for me while I go look for a better future for us.’

Now he’s here in front of you. Looking mighty fine. Stack has always been big but he’s managed to get even bigger and stronger and good looking. You would love nothing more than to be wrapped in his big beefy arms. Have him crash you against this chest. But you were a married woman now. That’s a luxury you couldn’t permit yourself.

Although your still belonged to Stack, you made vows to another man and you wouldn’t want to disrespect him no matter what.

Sighing deeply, you were now irritated by his presence. “What’s it to you stack? Since when did you start caring about my happiness?”

Eyebrows furrowing, Stack looked at you as if you’d grown horns on your head “Now now princess, you know that’s not true. If there’s anyone I cared about more than my brother, it’s you!”

“Yeah? Well you have a peculiar way of showing it. Leaving me after you just asked me to be your woman with only a letter..you call that caring?”

“Woman, what was I supposed to do! Money was calling and I needed to leave. Didn’t I promise you I was going to make sure your future was bright?”

“Money, money, money,money now that’s one thing I know for a fact you love.” You never had to question his love for money. Stack was a hardworking man, a go getter, an ambitious man with a plan. Everything you always wanted in a man. Plus, he was generous with his money. Never did you have to ask him for it. He would just give it to you as if his dough belonged to you.

“Stack, I really got to go. I can’t continue being seen with you like this before news gets back to my husband. Adieu!”

‘My husband’ ouch. That one pierced a hole in his heart and caused a ringing in his ears. Watching you walk away he realized he can’t let you walk away like this.

“Yn, wait!” You turned back looking at him as he held you unoccupied hand. You looked at him. Looked at his hand, then your surroundings. You could see a few glances being thrown your way. People can be so nosy. You really didn’t need this to get back to your husband.

Removing your hand from his hold, you prepared to tell him off. He beat you to it.

“Lemme take you home at least.”

“I’m fine, I’ll wait for the train.”

“Please, yn, it’s the least I could do.” You could hear the pleading in his voice. Stack wasn’t known for pleading. The sun was hot and you were tired of being in the market anyway.

“Let me carry these for you.” He said offering to carry your commission bags.

“I’m fine stack.”

“I insist.” Taking your bags from in his hands, you were only left to carry your purse as you walked alongside him towards his car.

He opened the door for you, then proceeded to put your groceries in. The car ride was silent. Apart from him greeting some people on the road and looking at you every now and then.

“So you just not gon talk to me anymore?”

Glancing at him, you quickly replied “Watchu want me to say Stack?”

“Shid ion know. Talk to me about yo husband.”

You blinked slowly at him. You could see the look of amusement on his face. That irritated you. “What’s funny Elias?”

“You heard me laughing?”

“What’s that stupid smile for?”

“I can’t ask about your husband?”

“Just focus on the road. You don’t need to know anything about my husband.”

A few minutes of silence reigned in the car. Suddenly Stack pressed on the brakes making your body jolt forward.

“Stack!” Heart beating fast in your chest, you looked at him like he was a mad person. He must be cause who stops a car abruptly like that? In the middle of nowhere.

“You really foul you know that?”

“W-what, what’re you talking about?”

“You really went ahead and got married on me instead of waiting for me like I specifically asked you. Ain’t I tell you I was to be your husband?” He all but shouted looking angry as if you just spit in his liquor.

“Excuse you. You expected me to wait like some loyal dog waiting for its owner? Seven years Stack! Seven!” You couldn’t believe the nerve of him. Leaving you without a trace and expecting to you to wait on his return like he was the Messiah.

“I wrote you letters to let you know about my days,not once did you reply. You were already so busy with the next lad to reply?”

“You didn’t write me anything Stack”

“I did!”

“Well I ain’t received anything but silence from your end since you left. I tried to ask around but no one could answer me.”

Yuh now looked at him with tears dancing in your eyes. Thinking about all those days you used to go to the various bars just to ask about him. Going to the gare just to see if he would reappear. Even his twin went radio silent.

Countless nights you couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. You even lost a few pounds because you were neglecting yourself. Stack really did a number on you with his departure.

Wiping the few stray tears from your eyes, you glanced outside the window as you mumbled softly “Please just take me home.”

A few bits of silence followed before he asked you “Do you love him?”

The question you have been dreading. His gaze was so intense on you, you could feel heat radiating off him towards you. You could hear him breath in and out as he awaited your answer. As if that answer was going to determine the fate of the universe.

“Stack-”

“Answer me yn. Do you?”

“What’s it to you? You left me remember? You abandoned me!”

“Baby, I left to go look for your future, our future”

“Ugh miss me with that lame story Stack. Your greed will be the end of you. It sure was the end of us.”

“Please tell me you don’t love him , yn..”

You could feel your heart beating in your ears.

“Elias, you know my heart always belonged to you. I couldn’t love another even if I tried.”

You couldn’t lie to your self even if you tried. Your heart has a brain of its own. It knew it’s owner.

That’s all Stack needed to hear before he moved closer to you and invited your lips for a sensual, hungry kiss. It took you off guard at first but your lips quickly got in rhythm with his. He cradled your face in his hands. Eyes closed, he poured seven years of passion into the kiss.

His tongue tasting yours, licking your tongue, your lips as if honey dripped from there.

Oxygen was running low for both of you, but Stack still needed some of you. Detaching your mouth from his, in order to breath, stack latched on your neck, kissing, biting, licking. His mouth made its way to your ears while his hands roamed on your chest, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

The position began to get uncomfortable for the both of you. He laid his forehead on yours . Your breaths mingling together. “Get in the back.” He whispered softly, lips hovering over yours. Your eyes met his and you could see the fire burning inside his irises. His eyes mirrored your own.

In this moment, you couldn’t be bothered to remember that you were a married woman. In this moment, it was just you and Elias. You’ll deal with the consequences in due time. Besides, whatever happens after the sun goes down is no one’s business.

Don’t forget to comment and reblog. Thank you for reading! 💋

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I was listening to the podcast with Aisha and Oliver and they got to the cursed storyline that we all hate. And I just love how Aisha is pointing out how people were like since when did this show suddenly care about realism. I know she was saying other people said it but a part of me thinks that’s what she thought too lol

I admit I was a little confused by the wording here but if I'm reading it right you're talking about when Aisha discussed Bobby's death, and how the show didn't kill off characters, but Timmy here decided it "wasn't realistic" that the main characters never died. I agree with you - I could be wrong in how I interpreted what Aisha said but - in my opinion she was saying, "we're dragged online all the time for not being realistic, THIS is how you want to change that? We've had eight seasons enjoying not caring about realism and NOW you care? for THIS?"

Last season Bobby was "dead" for far, far too long. Medical experts and even just people with common sense and the ability to google were like hey, he shouldn't be able to recover mentally, if you're without oxygen for that long you're brain dead. Tim knew this. He didn't care. He literally said he didn't care. He wanted the drama.

So yeah, using the "we have to be realistic" argument is absolute bullshit and from my understanding of what Aisha was saying, yes, she absolutely agrees with us that it's bullshit for him to say that.

You want a show with realism you watch The Pitt. You want a show for campy fun you watch 9-1-1. It was a comfort show for many. We had a shark on the freeway! A tsunami in Los Angeles!

In killing off Bobby the show betrayed itself. And while Aisha is far, far too classy to say "yeah this was bullshit and I'm pissed as fuck" in an interview, I think you could tell that she agreed with the outrage. The cast has been very clear (well, Kenny and Athena and Peter and now Aisha and I think also Oliver? so I think we can infer everyone is on the same page here) that they disagreed with and were deeply upset by the decision, with varying levels of diplomacy in how they express their opinion. Which honestly... pisses me off more than the actual story.

To me, the story is paramount. The story trumps all else. I don't care if I fucking hate your guts beyond all reason, if I was an actor and you were my costar playing my romantic interest, I am going to give it all I've fucking got, because I'm not going to ruin the story. I believe in that very strongly. Whatever is going on in your real life or behind the scenes, you drop it the moment it comes to your art, no matter what medium that art takes. You owe it to your audience. You ask them to trust you to follow you on this journey, and so in return you need to be worthy of that trust.

However, at the end of the day, a story is fiction. If you're in an abusive work environment, don't put up with it. Quit. If you need time off, take time off. Real people always matter more. There is a big difference between "I'm a closeted queer person and being a messy bitch about it so I'm going to throw a bitch fit if they make my character queer because god forbid I separate church and state a little" or "my coworker is an entitled arrogant asshat and so I hate kissing him" and "my boss is sexually harassing me" or "the crew is being forced into dangerous working hours that will get them killed." Y'know? Drama versus wellbeing. Fix your damn self versus save yourself.

And so what makes me angriest is that real people got hurt in this. The audience is hurt because you took advantage of the trust you built with them. Those are real people who trusted you. Your cast is hurt, because you betrayed them. You hurt them. Real people. They didn't want you to do this. At least two of them have admitted they begged you not to. And you ignored them, because power was more important to you than taking care of the people who are your responsibility.

Stay classy, Aisha. I'd die for you. If your husband ever takes you for granted I am outside your home with roses. Also you're so valid for falling in love with Bear please hug him for me and tell him I love him muchly.

[coriihanniee]

WHEN YOU CRY OVER YOUR PET જ⁀➴

۶ৎ PAIRING : boynextdoor x gn!reader ۶ৎ GENRE(S) : established relationship, fluff, hurt, comfort ۶ৎ WARNING(S) : mentions of pet death/grief, emotional distress/crying, heavy emotional comfort from the boys, reader is overwhelmed, author got carried away at Leehan's (heh...) ۶ৎ WORD COUNT : 0.4k - 0.7k words

۶ৎ A/N : This was a request from my lovely @reibelhearts ! I hope this headcanon fic gives you the much needed comfort that you need! 💕 I understand how it feels to lose a beloved pet so I was more than willing to write this! To all our furry 🐶🐱 (and fishy 🐟 or feathery 🕊) friends who have crossed the bridge, you are so, so loved! 🫶

SUNGHO₍^. .^₎⟆

۶ৎ you didn’t mean to cry in front of him.

۶ৎ he’s been so busy lately—filming, rehearsals, barely getting enough sleep.

۶ৎ you kept it to yourself, thinking, "he doesn’t need to worry about this too."

۶ৎ you told yourself you'd be fine...

۶ৎ but when Sungho walks through the door, gym bag still slung over his shoulder, and asks, “Hey, baby. Have you eaten yet?”—something in you just breaks.

۶ৎ the way your face crumples and you look away too quickly. The way your voice doesn’t even make it out. He freezes.

۶ৎ “Wait—what’s wrong?”

۶ৎ you try to shake your head, but it’s too late. You’re already crying, and you can’t stop.

۶ৎ his bag hits the floor. He’s at your side in two seconds flat, kneeling down like you’re something precious he’s scared to touch too roughly.

۶ৎ you choke out the words. “They’re gone.” And he understands immediately.

۶ৎ “Oh… babe.” His voice is so soft. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

۶ৎ you just shake your head. “You’ve been so busy. I didn’t want to ruin your mood or mess things up for you—”

۶ৎ “You’re never ruining anything,” he cuts in, already pulling you into his arms. “You’re my person. If something hurts you, it matters.”

۶ৎ holds you close until your shoulders stop shaking. One arm around your back, one hand stroking your hair like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

۶ৎ Simba the cat slinks in slowly, drawn by the stillness. He pauses, sniffs the air like he’s picking up on your sadness, then hops into your lap without hesitation. Settles in. Purrs.

۶ৎ Sungho glances down. “He’s doing that thing again where he pretends he’s not affectionate, but he is.”

۶ৎ you sniffle, laughing a little through your tears. “Yeah… I can tell.”

۶ৎ he leaves for a bit and comes back with your favourite drink, a warm snack, and a tiny plushie that vaguely resembles your pet. “Simba helped me pick it out. I mean, he stared at it for three seconds, which I’m taking as a sign.”

۶ৎ you don't have to ask him to stay. He already is. Sitting cross-legged next to you, blanket pulled over both your legs, one hand resting gently on your knee. Just enough to remind you he’s there.

۶ৎ “You loved them really well,” he says after a long silence. “That’s why this hurts so much. That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

۶ৎ Simba curls up against your leg again, tail flicking lightly. Sungho adjusts your blanket. Then again. Then a third time for good measure.

۶ৎ you don’t say anything about it, just lean your head on his shoulder.

۶ৎ later, when you fall asleep mid-tears, you stir just enough to hear him whisper :

۶ৎ “I’m so sorry, love. You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

RIWOO ʢ·͡ᴥ·ʡ

۶ৎ you’d been texting him normally. Maybe quieter than usual, but nothing that would set off alarms. 

۶ৎ he was busy anyways—schedules, fan signs, a music show later that night. You didn’t want to weigh him down.

۶ৎ but something about your last message sits weird with him.

 ۶ৎ just a “hope rehearsal goes well” and a photo of your pet’s collar, sitting alone on the table.

۶ৎ Riwoo doesn’t reply right away, but he does show up at your doorstep unannounced. 

۶ৎ he knocks gently. Doesn’t say a word when you open the door with tear-swollen eyes and a barely functioning voice. Just holds out his arms, like of course he already knew.

۶ৎ when you finally manage to whisper, “I didn’t want to bother you,” he just sighs into your shoulder.

۶ৎ “You didn’t,” he murmurs. “I just… I know that look.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t flood you with questions or try to say anything deep. Instead, he walks into your apartment like it’s muscle memory, sets a plastic bag on the table, and pulls out your favourite drink and a weirdly cute rice ball shaped like a dog. 

۶ৎ “Not gonna lie,” he says quietly, “I panicked and just bought everything dog-shaped.”

۶ৎ you try to laugh and end up crying again instead. He doesn't flinch. Just lets you sob into his sleeve, gently rubbing your back in slow, grounding circles.

۶ৎ that evening, just when you think he’s about to leave, he kneels down by the front door and starts undoing a carrier bag. You blink. “Riwoo…?”

۶ৎ out pops Daebak—tail wagging, tongue out, already sniffing around your living room like he lives there.

۶ৎ “I figured,” Riwoo says, brushing invisible fur off his hoodie, “you might be too lonely tonight.”

 ۶ৎ he hands you a leash. “He’s loud. And dramatic. But he’s got good taste in people.”

۶ৎ you blink back another round of tears. “You’re letting me borrow your dog?”

 ۶ৎ “Just for tonight. Unless you need him longer. Then it’s... a long-term lease.”

۶ৎ the next few hours are quiet in the best way. You and Daebak curled on the couch, and Riwoo beside you with a portable speaker softly playing some lo-fi music.

۶ৎ he doesn’t ask you to talk about your pet unless you bring it up. When you do, his eyes don’t leave your face the entire time. He listens like he’s trying to memorize the way you describe them. 

۶ৎ “They sounded loyal,” he says eventually. “Like the kind of pet who’d follow you into hell and back.”

۶ৎ you nod. “They were.”

۶ৎ before he leaves, he sets down a Tupperware box. “Jjangyi’s food. Daebak’s picky.”

۶ৎ “Wait,” you say, panicking a little, “what if he misses you tonight?”

۶ৎ Riwoo shrugs. “He’s sleeping on your foot like he’s known you forever. I think he’s fine.”

۶ৎ and then, just as he’s pulling on his hoodie to head out, he turns back and says in that low, soft voice :

۶ৎ “I can’t bring them back… but I’ll come by tomorrow. With Jjangyi. So Daebak doesn’t get too smug.”

JAEHYUN ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა

۶ৎ you didn’t want to tell him. He was already juggling a comeback, dance practices, and three unfinished voice notes he said he’d send “soon, I swear!!”

۶ৎ so you kept it to yourself. Until he dropped by after rehearsal—hair damp, hoodie sleeves rolled up, ranting about Woonhak eating his chicken.

۶ৎ “Can you believe him? He said I was chewing too loud. Too loud, babe. Am I supposed to chew silently now—hey, wait…”

۶ৎ he finally notices your red-rimmed eyes. Your silence. The way your lip trembles when you try to smile and say, “I’m fine.”

۶ৎ “You’re not,” he blurts, panic creeping into his voice. “You’re so not—what happened? Did someone say something? Did you get hurt? Did I do something?!”

۶ৎ you try to explain through broken words. That your pet passed away. That you didn’t want to tell him because he seemed happy and busy and you didn’t want to ruin that.

۶ৎ “Ruin—?” He looks offended. “RUIN?! Babe, if you stubbed your toe I’d cancel the whole schedule.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t try to cover up how crushed he looks.

۶ৎ “Oh no,” he whispers. “I know how much you loved them. I used to greet them when I walked in like they paid rent.”

۶ৎ pulls you into his chest, his grip tight and warm. He lets you cry, no rushing, no awkward patting—just firm, sweet comfort. Keeps whispering the same words over and over.

۶ৎ “You did your best. You loved them so well. They were so lucky to have you.”

۶ৎ later, once you’re curled up together on the couch, tissues everywhere, he suddenly looks very serious.

۶ৎ “Listen… I know nothing could ever replace them. And I’m not trying to—but like…” He reaches for his phone, pulling up a poorly lit screenshot of a baby hamster.

۶ৎ “What if… just what if… we get a little guy. Not to replace them. Just to give your heart something soft again. I’ll take care of it too!! I’ll feed it kale and whisper affirmations.”

۶ৎ you stare at him. “You want to get a hamster?”

۶ৎ “OUR hamster,” he corrects. “Joint custody. I’ll name it something cool like… Biscuit. Or President Cheeks.”

۶ৎ “…Jaehyun.”

۶ৎ “No no hear me out. They’re small. They’re fluffy. They store snacks in their cheeks. Just like you.”

۶ৎ he shows you another picture of a golden hamster in a tiny food bowl. “I saw this one online. Look at him. He’s shaped like a grain of rice.”

۶ৎ you squint at it, wiping your eyes. “Is that… Hanbin?”

۶ৎ Jaehyun short-circuits. “OH MY GOD YOU’RE RIGHT—WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THIS.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t leave that night. Orders your comfort food. Makes a ridiculous ‘hamster Pinterest board’ on his phone full of tiny hats.

۶ৎ when you fall asleep with your head in his lap, he just sits there, stroking your hair, whispering :

“You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever. I love you.”

TAESAN ≽^- ˕ -^≼

۶ৎ You don’t want to burden him. 

۶ৎ Taesan’s got a lot on his plate right now—the group’s comeback, his family back in Gwangju, and his ever-ongoing worries about Dupal. So you try to keep it in.

۶ৎ that is, until you find yourself choking on your tears, alone in the apartment, barely able to breathe from the weight of the loss. 

۶ৎ you’re crying over your pet, the one you’ve spent so many years with, and it hurts in a way you didn’t expect.

۶ৎ Taesan knocks on your door later, his usual calm exterior cracking when he sees you, tears streaking down your face.

 ۶ৎ “What happened?” His voice is quieter than usual, genuine concern taking over.

۶ৎ you try to push him away, muttering, “I’m fine, Taesan. I just… need a minute.”

۶ৎ but he’s not buying it. He steps inside, looking at you with those dark eyes—the same eyes that often seem distant, but right now, they’re locked on you, focused entirely.

۶ৎ “No, you’re not. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

۶ৎ when you finally break down and admit that your pet passed away, that you didn’t want to tell him, his heart sinks. He already knows what it’s like to miss someone close.

۶ৎ “I… I get it,” he says softly, voice thick with emotion. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hand on your arm, squeezing gently.

۶ৎ “I know what it feels like to miss someone. Dupal’s not here, and I keep wondering if he’s forgotten me. I don’t want you to feel like that, too.”

۶ৎ he pauses, looking at you with a mix of vulnerability and strength. “I’m… not the best at comforting people. But I’ll sit here with you. I’ll listen. I won’t leave until you’re okay.”

۶ৎ instead of words, Taesan just stays with you. He pulls you into a tight hug, not saying anything but letting you know he’s there.

۶ৎ his hand runs through your hair like a slow, steady rhythm, soothing and calm, like he’s trying to carry some of your pain.

۶ৎ after a while, he pulls back, looking at you, his thumb gently brushing under your eye to catch a tear.

۶ৎ he doesn’t try to give you solutions or rush you through your grief. He just sits with you, the silence speaking volumes.

۶ৎ eventually, you end up sitting on the floor together, as he pulls out his phone and shows you a video of Dupal trying to chase after a car (unsuccessfully, of course), and you can’t help but chuckle through the tears.

 ۶ৎ “I hope he remembers me. Just like I’ll never forget him… And I’ll never forget you either.”

۶ৎ when he leaves for the night, he gives you a long, lingering hug, his hand resting on the back of your head. “Call me if you need anything, okay? Don’t keep it to yourself.”

LEEHAN ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

۶ৎ you hadn’t told him. You didn’t want to disturb him, especially when he was in the middle of his busy schedule. 

۶ৎ Leehan had been trying so hard to make sure everyone was good, especially the members, that you didn’t want to add to his plate.

۶ৎ but you couldn’t keep it in forever. You tried to push the sadness away, but it caught up with you when you least expected it. 

۶ৎ you’re sitting in your apartment, curled up on the couch, when you suddenly get a message from Leehan.

۶ৎ “Hey, Coni misses you! And I have some new fishes to show you, want to come over?”

۶ৎ you don’t respond right away. Instead, you let out a shaky breath. The offer seems so simple, but it reminds you of the pet you just lost. The one you cherished.

۶ৎ you try to talk yourself out of going, but before you know it, you’re heading to the dorms anyway. Maybe seeing Coni will help. Maybe seeing Leehan will help.

۶ৎ when you get there, he’s already in the living room, his arms spread wide as he greets you.

۶ৎ “Look who’s here! Coni’s been waiting for you all day!” He’s excited and cheerful, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he sees you standing in the doorway, quiet and looking like something’s off.

۶ৎ “You okay?” he asks gently, walking toward you and pulling you into a hug. “You’ve been on my mind today. Come on, I want to show you something!”

۶ৎ you let him guide you to the fish tank, the new fishes swimming around. He talks about them excitedly, and the way he describes them with such enthusiasm makes your heart ache. 

۶ৎ his eyes light up as he points out each one, naming them and describing their colours and quirks in a way that’s so Leehan—gentle, thoughtful, and full of joy. 

۶ৎ you can’t help but feel your heart melt a little, but also hurt because the memories of your pet flood in at the same time.

۶ৎ “This one here,” he says with a wide smile, pointing to a small, shimmering fish darting through the water. “This is a Runny Nose Tetra. Look at how it moves, so quick and lively. Reminds me of how much energy Coni has when he’s chasing his ball.” 

۶ৎ “And this is a Gold Gourami,” he continues, his voice full of admiration as he watches the golden fish glide gracefully through the tank. “She’s really calm. The kind that just floats around, not bothering anyone.”

۶ৎ he goes on, his voice light and warm as he explains the behaviour of each fish. You watch him talk about them with such affection, and the way he does makes your heart ache with the weight of your loss.

۶ৎ and then Coni comes bounding into the room, tail wagging so hard that his whole body wiggles. 

۶ৎ you can’t hold it in any longer. The weight of your loss catches up with you, and you break down, tears streaming down your face. The suddenness of it all takes you by surprise, and you feel a tightness in your chest.

۶ৎ Leehan doesn’t panic. He just wraps his arms around you, his voice soft as he says,

۶ৎ “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, babe. I get it. I know how it feels.”

۶ৎ he doesn’t push you to talk about it right away. He just sits with you, letting you cry against his chest.

۶ৎ his hand gently runs through your hair, and you feel the warmth of his embrace grounding you.

* “I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love,” he murmurs, his voice tender. 

۶ৎ “Coni, my fishes… I know they don’t live as long, but that doesn’t make it any easier. And… I know this pain. It’s terrible. But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

۶ৎ he pulls back slightly, wiping your tears away with his thumb, and then says something you weren’t expecting.

۶ৎ “I’ll take care of you, okay? We’ll get through this together. We don’t have to forget them, we just… keep their memories close. Like I do with my fish.”

۶ৎ Coni, noticing the sadness, nudges you gently with his nose. Leehan smiles softly, rubbing Coni’s head.

۶ৎ “See? Even Coni gets it. He’s here with you too.”

۶ৎ he makes you a warm drink and sits you down next to him. For the rest of the evening, it’s just the two of you, talking about the silly things Coni and his fishes do, sharing stories of your pets, and letting the grief come and go as it needs to.

۶ৎ before you leave, he kisses your forehead gently and says, “I’m always here for you. And if you need time, I’ll be right here. Whenever you’re ready.”

WOONHAK ʕ｡•ﻌ•｡ʔ

۶ৎ you kept convincing yourself : he’s busy, he’s practising, he’s probably tired, and you didn’t want to be the reason he slowed down. So you didn’t say anything when your pet passed away.

۶ৎ but grief doesn’t always stay quiet. And Woonhak? He just so happened to come over with snacks and that loud sunshine energy of his, flopping onto your couch like always and immediately dragging you into his world.

۶ৎ “Guess who brought peach gummies and terrible horror movies we’re gonna regret watching at 2AM? That’s right. Your favorite genius.”

۶ৎ you force a smile. Try to laugh. Try to keep up. But somewhere between his fifth dramatic retelling of how he heroically caught a falling banana at the dorm, you break.

۶ৎ the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as you bury your face in your hands, trying to hide it—but he notices instantly.

۶ৎ “Wait—wait, you’re crying?? Babe?? What—did I say something dumb? Did I offend the banana??”

۶ৎ he’s scrambling, eyes wide, snacks falling off his lap. He’s panicking—but it’s that sweet kind of panic that shows how much he cares even if he doesn’t know what’s wrong yet.

۶ৎ he practically throws himself onto the floor in front of you, crouching down to your level.

۶ৎ “Babe, hey, look at me—what happened? You’re scaring me…”

۶ৎ you finally manage to whisper it : 

۶ৎ “They’re gone… My pet. I didn’t know who to tell. I didn’t want to make you worry.”

۶ৎ his eyes soften instantly. The panic melts into care, into gentleness—and so Woonhak.

۶ৎ “You—you should’ve told me. I wanna worry about you, dummy.”

 ۶ৎ “…Okay not dummy. You’re a very smart, beautiful person, I’m just emotionally unwell right now because you’re sad and I don’t know what to do.”

۶ৎ he pulls you into the tightest hug, one of those full-bodied, engulfed by a bear kind of hugs.

۶ৎ “It’s okay to cry, you know? Even if you think it’s ‘just a pet’—they were your family. Your best friend. I get it. And I’m here, okay?”

۶ৎ once you’ve calmed down a little, he wipes your tears with his sleeve (and immediately regrets it because “ew okay I used this sleeve to open yogurt earlier wait let me get a tissue—”).

۶ৎ but then he gently sits you down, gets you water, a cozy blanket, and even puts your favorite stuffed animal in your lap with the most serious expression.

۶ৎ “Comfort animal deployment: activated. I am now your emotional support himbo.”

۶ৎ he even makes a little corner of your room a “memorial spot,” setting down a candle and printing out one of your pet’s photos. 

۶ৎ “This is their VIP section. I’m reserving it for good memories and bad jokes in their honour.”

۶ৎ eventually, he pulls you back onto the couch, your head resting against his shoulder. He talks in that soft, low voice he only uses when things are quiet.

۶ৎ “You don’t ever have to deal with this kind of stuff alone, okay? Even if you don’t wanna talk about it, I’m still gonna show up with peach gummies and a stupid horror movie and sit beside you until you feel a little more okay.”

 ۶ৎ “And if you cry again, it’s fine. I’ll cry too. We’ll sob together. Like a synchronized sadness squad. World record or something.”

@coriihanniee 💌

˖➴ reblogs are appreciated! ty for reading! <3

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[ariiijestertheklown]

Substance

ELIJAH "SMOKE" MOORE X READER (OC/TINASHE/)

Modern-AU

Warnings: Cursing, verbal fights, crying, hitting(from reader), Gangster shii, a smidge of sexual content, and if i missed anything let me know

AN: my first fanfic so bare with me ....

Summary: Tinashe was tired of waiting tired of having hope tired of missing him so she tries to forget all about him but the goddess of love had other plans and guess who pops up at the clubs she at....

10:43 pm on a Friday night, Tinashe was scrolling reminiscing going through past messages and photos till she told herself "Get the hell up off that couch and lets have some fun" she put her outfit did her hair make up everything and out the door. She arrives at the club meeting her friend Jenea once they enter tinashe hits the bar asking for 4 shots of Hennessy. And Jenea just shrugs and says "add 4 more to that" four shots later and somehow there both tipsy 20 minutes later more shots and 2 drinks there in the middle of the dance floor swaying their hips and jamming to the music it didnt take long for some guy to come up behind jenea and dance with her but tinashe? she didnt care she was free she was living the life... until strong muscled arms wrapped around her waist she wasnt phased until she heard it. Heard him AND Smelled him.

The smell of him like rich cologne and cedarwood "hey beautiful" she froze breath hitched stopped dancing and all of sudden the six plus shots she took wore straight out her system.

| "so its like that no hi? nothing?" voice deep and raspy

| "No hi? Boy please... get the fuck from off me"

You had moved out his grasp and straight to the bar still tipsy going for 3 more shots to hope this is just a dream or the Hennessy kicking in but no. Once You down the last shot he makes his way toward you and oh lord the sight of him. Black Jeans Black tee tight as a mf gold chain dangling, gold rolex watch and oooo that face still the same how you remember it but when your eyes travel lower you notice hes more muscular and more fit , buff and the Hennessy made you just wanna take bit of him but you fought that feeling hard. He cornered you your back against the bar and him in front close very close.

| "Come on T, I know you missed me"

|"missed yeah few days ago now not anymore" She lied and he knew she lied

Tinashes eyes were low lashes almost covering her eyes as she looked up at him. He looked down at her leaning down lips brushing her cheek then to her ear he said " Go ahead and lie one more time might have to fix that" he smirked then leaned back seeing her face which was in total shock.

" Aint no one lyin you left for 4 weeks and then all of a sudden pop back up smoke please fuck out my face 'for i give you something to be in my face bout" She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth pushing him back out her way now drunk as ever as she went to find jenea who was in the corner of the club making out with the same damn man who she was dancing with. She just let them be they didnt come in the same car anyway. As she was about to leave she felt a pair of hands on her hips stopping her. "Smoke if you dont take your hands of me ima remove them myself forcefully." She was then pulled into a hallway Red and blue lights littered the hallway dim but still able to see he had her pinned against wall, Tinashe being drunk did not know wether to kiss him , slap him, or cuss him the hell out so she chose two out of the three. He leaned down and she instantly had her lips on his the kiss was rough but slow and felt like the world had stopped. but then when she pulled away....

"Your an ass Smoke... you Just leave out the blue for 4 weeks no text no call nothing then somehow know where i am show up and then start acting like you can get me back real easy by luring me into this kiss.."

her eyes started to water and he noticed making something in him shift he gently grabbed her chin making her look at him.

"I know.. I know im wrong i didnt wanna get you mixed up in all my gangster shit and then put you in danger i knew i called i would have never been stay away but im here now" He looked like he meant it like he really did want to make things work between the two of you "as for the acting like you can get me back real easy by luring me into this kiss part" he mocked you smirking "if i have to earn you back thats what ima do cause your mine and always have been."

You had looked up at him feeling rushing back to you lots of them Anger, Love, hurt, kindness tons of feelings but right now you wanted him and i mean WANTED him in BED.

(Yall can let me know if you want a part 2 or not might just leave this as it is T_T)