#but again . we thought it was the pot i was smoking

[devotioncrater]

me six months ago when my therapist of 2 years said a schizoaffective diagnosis would be more appropriate than a bipolar diagnosis:

me currently, as i experience gradually worsening psychotic episodes without any mood shifts:

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out

NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.

As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.

But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.

There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.

That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.

7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.

You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.

Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.

I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.

Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.

You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.

You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.

Your ID. Funny.

As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.

Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.

And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.

How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?

God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...

Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.

You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.

But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.

It is, to simply put, awkward.

You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.

You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...

It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.

Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.

Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.

"Oh, hi. Good morning—"

You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.

What the fuck.

How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.

"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.

You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.

You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.

That something is apparently sending you a text.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?

The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴

On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.

You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?

And then your phone dings once again.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work

You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.

Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.

It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.

Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.

"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.

Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."

You pout at that.

"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"

"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"

If only she knew.

You shake your head to her question.

"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.

"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."

Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.

"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.

Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.

Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.

"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.

"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.

She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.

Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.

"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.

"A little." You reply.

Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."

"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.

"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.

"__, can you get this khia away from me?"

You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.

Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.

"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.

Now that makes you squirm.

"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.

Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"

"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.

"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"

You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.

"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.

You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.

"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.

"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.

"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."

"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.

Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."

"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."

You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.

Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.

Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.

"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."

And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now. 

Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.

"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.

Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.

"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."

You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.

He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.

But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.

You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we

Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.

But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.

Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.

It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.

You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):

Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?

You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late

You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!

Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.

You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?

You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊

Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.

Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.

You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.

Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.

The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.

Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.

"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.

You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.

You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?

But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.

The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.

You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?

You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.

Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.

He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.

There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.

As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.

That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.

"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.

It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.

You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—

"Oh, I can't do that."

Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.

That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.

Well, that ruins fun.

You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.

Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.

You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.

There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.

But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.

Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.

A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.

Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly. 

Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.

It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.

You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.

Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.

Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.

But it's ultimately inevitable 

And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.

And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.

You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.

If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?

You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.

But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.

And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.

Absolutely ridiculous.

But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.

It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.

Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.

With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.

You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.

So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.

It's alright. Nothing is going to change—

Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.

Fuck.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."

"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."

"Mr. Jeon."

Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.

Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!

Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.

Oh my god. Fuck me.

You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.

But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.

You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.

That makes you roll your eyes.

You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.

A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.

What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.

Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...

You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.

You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.

You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.

But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.

Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.

The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.

You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.

On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today

You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.

But you know the attempts will be futile.

If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.

Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.

Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.

The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.

With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.

You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.

Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—

And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.

You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.

"Hi."

The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.

"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"

You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.

"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.

He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."

Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.

He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.

The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.

"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."

You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.

"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"

"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.

Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"

When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."

"This is enough for two?"

He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?

You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"

Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.

"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."

Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.

"No matter what's on the line?"

"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."

His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.

But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.

"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.

It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.

That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.

"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Okay, now you're just making me curious."

"It's nothing."

"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.

"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.

Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.

When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.

Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.

Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.

Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.

"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."

He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.

"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.

"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.

His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.

You approach his direction to find yourself useful.

"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.

"It's fine."

His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.

Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.

"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...

"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.

"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."

"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."

You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.

"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.

The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.

"Anything is fine."

"Okay."

You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.

Oh. Wow.

He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?

How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.

After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.

You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.

Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.

You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.

"You're still in your work clothes."

You stop.

"Yeah..."

And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.

It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.

You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.

You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.

"So... about your text earlier."

There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.

But Jungkook just nods his head again.

"I see."

He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.

"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."

"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."

You gasp audibly.

So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?

"How did you know that?"

"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."

You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.

Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.

"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.

You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.

Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.

"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."

Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.

"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.

He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"

You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—

"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.

"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.

Wealthy people do have a tiny world.

"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."

It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.

"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.

But he shakes his head instead.

"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."

"In Italy?"

"Yeah."

You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.

You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.

"You're right." You sigh.

Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.

"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.

You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.

Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?

You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.

"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.

You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.

"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."

"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."

"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."

"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"

"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."

"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"

You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.

"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."

"That's really nice."

And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"

"What?"

"That you know me?"

"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"

"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.

"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.

Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.

"Thanks."

And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.

A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."

Your brows furrow. "When?"

"Uh... earlier this morning."

"Oh. Yeah..."

You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.

But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"

"Why, did you see me there?"

You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.

"No." You lie.

"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."

"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.

"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","

"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.

"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"

Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.

You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.

Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.

"Yeah, it did, actually."

"How did you do it?"

You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."

"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."

"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.

What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.

He's such a fascinating person.

"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.

"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.

"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."

The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.

"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."

"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.

"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."

"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."

You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.

Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.

You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.

"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.

Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.

"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.

"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.

Jungkook stares at you for a bit.

"Why would that weird me out?"

He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.

You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.

"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."

Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"

You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.

"It's bad because..."

"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.

You look away.

"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."

When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.

"Why?"

"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."

Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.

"Your thought process really amazes me."

You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."

"No, it's really... interesting."

He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."

Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.

"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."

You pout. "That's not what I meant."

And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.

Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.

You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.

"No...?"

Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.

"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."

Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.

You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.

With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"

In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?

"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.

"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."

"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."

You send him a suspicious look.

"No, thank you."

"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."

"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.

"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.

"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"

It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.

However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.

But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.

"It's cheaper."

You can't help but raise your brow.

"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"

You shrug.

Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."

Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.

"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"

"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."

You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.

But you nod at Jungkook's words.

Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.

"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.

Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."

You blush at that for no reason.

"Well..."

"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."

"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.

That makes you frown instantly.

"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."

"Hmm."

Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.

He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.

"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."

"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.

"Good."

You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.

Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."

And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.

"S-see you as well."

"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.

"It's literally just a plain white polo."

"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.

You scoff.

"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."

There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.

"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"

"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."

Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.

"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.

It works every time.

You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."

Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.

You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.

It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.

"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.

Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."

You button your trousers and groan at his words.

"I wish I was also in Italy."

"I mean, you could."

You give him a look.

"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."

Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.

"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."

That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.

"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."

"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.

"Rude!"

Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"

You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."

Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.

"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.

"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.

"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."

Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.

You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.

For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.

You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.

"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."

"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.

"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"

The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.

"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"

The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.

So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.

"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."

"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."

Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.

"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.

"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.

You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.

"It's really nothing big."

Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.

You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.

Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.

"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."

You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.

"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."

Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."

Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.

"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."

"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"

"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."

"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.

"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.

Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.

"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.

Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.

"I don't know... we're talking."

Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.

You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.

"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"

You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.

Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.

"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.

"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.

You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.

"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."

You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.

"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"

You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.

You give him a hesitant look.

"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."

Jimin nods, agreeing with you.

"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"

You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.

"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"

He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."

Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."

There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.

Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.

"Hey, __,"

You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."

"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."

Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."

When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.

Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.

"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.

But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.

"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.

"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.

But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.

Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?

"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.

"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.

Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.

As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.

You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."

"When is it coming?"

"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.

"Wait!"

You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"

"I can drive us together there."

"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."

"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"

"No."

Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"

You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.

"Okay, fine. But I owe you."

The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."

He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.

When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.

"Uh...?" You utter.

And then it hits you.

He's trying to open the door for you.

You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.

"This is the driver's seat."

"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.

You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.

So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.

"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."

And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.

Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.

"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.

You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.

"Slept late last night?"

You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."

Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.

You decide to look away for your own sake.

"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."

"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.

If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.

You quirk your head to the side.

"Are you free later for lunch?"

"I can arrange my sched. Why?"

"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.

Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.

"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.

You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"

"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.

"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"

"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."

"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."

You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.

"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.

Jungkook smiles. "Alright."

You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.

After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.

The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.

When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.

"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.

You look back at him in surprise.

"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.

"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."

You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."

You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.

The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.

When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.

"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.

"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.

"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."

It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.

"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.

"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.

Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.

"Done."

You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.

"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.

"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"

You gasp.

"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.

He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.

"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.

You notice he seems to be extra playful today.

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."

"You don't like driving?"

You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."

"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.

"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."

Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."

You almost snap your head to look at him.

"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.

Jungkook nods. "Hm."

"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.

Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.

Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.

"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.

"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.

He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.

You can't help but ask.

"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.

"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."

You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.

"That's sweet."

He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"

"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."

The smile on Jungkook's face falters.

"That... sucks."

"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."

"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."

You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.

All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.

"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.

"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.

You shake your head, smile not going away.

"Nothing!"

Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.

After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.

"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."

He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.

"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."

"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.

When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.

From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.

You glance at Jungkook and snort.

"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.

In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.

"That's Seoul High School?"

You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."

You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.

"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.

"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"

He nods.

"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."

Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."

The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.

You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.

"U-uhm..."

When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.

"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.

The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.

"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.

You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.

"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."

Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.

"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.

Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.

"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.

You look up, baffled. "Huh?"

"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."

You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.

Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."

You don't think you hear his next word right.

"Cute."

You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.

You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.

Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?

None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.

You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.

And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.

Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.

So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.

It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.

What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)

But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.

"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.

"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.

"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."

You do not, in fact, have enough cash.

You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.

Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?

This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!

"Excuse me, miss,"

Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.

"You can charge her bill here."

At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.

You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.

Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.

"Hi."

"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."

The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.

"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.

Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.

His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.

"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?

You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"

Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.

"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.

He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.

"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."

Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.

"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"What?"

"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.

Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."

The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?

Still, you shy away.

"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.

Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.

"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.

You give him a weird look.

"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"

He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.

"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.

"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."

Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."

You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."

"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.

"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."

Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."

"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.

He nods, making your grin wider.

"Sounds fun."

You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.

Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.

It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.

You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.

"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.

But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.

"Good girl."

And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.

Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.

Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.

"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.

Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.

"Cut them into Julienne slices."

"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.

He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.

"Okay, let me just—"

He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.

You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.

Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.

He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.

"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.

You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.

"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."

Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.

"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.

You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.

Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.

You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.

"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.

"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.

"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.

You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know... give up?"

Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.

You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."

You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.

The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.

It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.

"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?

... Which you offered.

That he took willingly.

You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.

"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.

"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.

You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.

"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"

You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.

"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."

"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.

You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.

While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.

Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.

By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.

You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.

Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.

First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.

But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.

It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.

Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.

Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.

From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.

"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.

"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.

You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.

"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."

But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.

"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."

"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."

But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.

Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.

You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.

The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.

Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.

He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.

"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.

You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.

"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.

"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.

"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.

"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?

But your shoulders deflate because he's right.

Still.

Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.

"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."

That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"

You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.

"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.

Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.

The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.

A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef

You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.

You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept

You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime

You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.

You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??

You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant

You [11:11pm]: sweet

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby

Your lips part.

Okay...

Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?

His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.

You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now

Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.

You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.

It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.

You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴

You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.

You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night

Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx

You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.

The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.

Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.

But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...

"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.

You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.

Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.

You're obviously awful at this.

You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.

But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.

Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.

You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.

Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.

Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.

You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.

"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.

But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.

"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.

Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.

It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.

The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.

"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.

You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.

And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.

Jeon Jungkook.

"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.

Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.

You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.

You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.

Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.

You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.

You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.

And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.

"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.

You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.

Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.

"God, what's wrong with me,"

You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.

This isn't good. You need to think straight.

A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.

You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?

Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.

August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉

"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.

Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.

PART THREE | ...

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[bettysupremacy]

okay hear me out!!! Abby telling mike all the things her and y/n did that day, very cliché things but still so cute!! (loosely based off of best day by taylor swift... but...)

it’s like you knew my weak spot was Taylor Swift

“It was the best day ever.” Abby muffles, mouthful of salad.

Mike stands in the kitchen, back to her. He looks silly in a pretty pink apron Abby had picked out at the store, but he doesn’t mind. He wears it to let her giggle at the bow tied behind him. Steam smokes from the pots and pans around him.

“Oh, yeah?” He asks, stress keeping a low profile. He turns the burner nobs to lower settings.

“Yeah,” She emphasizes. “Really, we went to the mall, did you know there was a store just for dolls?”

“Yuh uh.” The pasta water is boiling over, shit. “What’s it- what’s it called? The girl doll store?”

“American Girl Doll.”

“That’s the one.”

Abby shrugs, flicking her bangs before stabbing wildly into her bowl. “It was so amazing, they have a cafe in there.”

Mike’s heart spikes at the thought of you spending money on his sister. It’s thoughtful, truly, but that’s his job now. He took on this roll. “You uh,” he mixes the pasta sauce. “you eat in there?”

“Yes.” She gushes, finishing the remnants of the salad Mike had made her. “But that was hours ago, and I’m hungry again.”

“That’s okay. That’s totally fine. Pastas almost done.”

“Good.” She juts her hand out to Mike, letting him lean over to toss her bowl in the sink with a clatter. “I got lemonade and a cheeseburger.”

“Wow.” Mike smiles, finally at ease with the chaos of cooking. He wipes his hands off messily, resting his them on the counter as he watches Abby with a light grin. “You’ve never eaten those for me.”

“Yeah,” She shrugs flippantly. “it was my first time.”

“I know, you like it?”

“It was soooo good, is the pasta done?”

Mike turns over his shoulder, “Shit, yeah.” He rushes to flip off the timer that now counts down from ten.

“Jar.”

“I’m not putting money in a jar.” He scoffs. “This is my own home.”

He spoons the pasta into a clean bowl, ditching the spoon for a fork when he realizes it’s a hopeless cause. He forks more than he thinks she’ll eat, but that’s okay, because at least she’s eating. She doesn’t have to finish it.

“We didn’t buy a doll.” She pulls the warm bowl in front of her, mixing the pasta sauce into her noodles. “They were creepy, I didn’t like them.”

“I don’t like them either.”

“But she got me a cupcake and ohhhhh my godddd, Mike.” She squeals. “It looked just like Chica’s, I didn’t want to eat it!”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, it was good.”

Halfway through the bowl she taps out. To be expected. Mike isn’t mad. Instead he grabs her plate, scraping the leftovers into dingy tupperware. It’s quiet besides the rumble of AC and Abby. She taps the counter to the tune of a television show she’d been watching earlier.

“Go uh,” He trails off, distracted with the dish.

“Shower?” She helps.

“That.”

“Ok.” She hops off the counter bench, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand messily. “Mike?”

“Yes?” He eyes her over his shoulder.

“I like her. Can we hang out again?”

He laughs turning back around. “Maybe. Go shower.”

[menagerofmischief]

Dia's Diner (closed)

diner is closed for catch up as I have too many unwritten orders, it'll be back start of january 2025

Welcome to Dia's Diner, here you'll be able to order your meal (fic) with as many specifications and dishes as you want. We hope you leave satisfied ;)

first step is choosing who you want your fic to be about, so pick a server (you can even pick two)

SERVERS:

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Lewis Hamilton 

George Russel

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Daniel Riccardo

Alex Albon

Fernando Alonso

Franco Collapinto 

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Ollie Bearman

Kimi Antonelli

Mick Schumacher

Arthur Leclerc

Sebastian Vettel

Mark Webber

Jenson Button

Nico Rosberg

Toto Wolff

every good meal starts with an appetizer, by choosing your appetizer you're setting the main trope of the fic

STARTERS:

charcuterie board (dating)

artichoke dip (brother’s friend)

olives and cheese (friends to lovers)

stuffed cherry tomatoes (sugar daddy)

hummus nachos (teammates)

shrimp cocktail (rivals to lovers)

and how you want it served

HOT OR COLD: 

hot appetizer (sweet sex) 

cold appetizer (rought sex) 

now it's time to order the main dish, feel free to choose as many as you want

MAINS:

lobster (“I love watching my cum leak out from your pussy”)

caviar and oysters (“Gonna look so good full of my babies”)

fish and chips (“Where are your manners?”)

steak (“Made just for me. My pretty little cocksleeve”)

burger and fries (“Hurts? That’s too bad baby, should have thought about it before being such a slut”)

buffalo wings (“Count them for me”)

ramen (“What would your brother think if he saw us?”)

gyros (“Gonna fill you up”)

full english (“My pretty little slut”)

pizza (“My good girl”)

pesto pasta (“Slow down, you just told me to speed up. What’s it gonna be silly girl?”)

carbonara (“Look so good on my cock”)

sausage rolls (“I’ll make it fit”)

sushi (“Better quiet down, you don’t want them to hear us.)

tacos (“I’m gonna give you an attitude check”)

chicken quesadilla (“So pretty with my cock down your throat”)

crab cakes (“Yeah, gonna swallow like a good girl?”)

chicken nuggets (“Couldn’t help being a brat, could you?”)

kimchi (“Be a good girl and take it”)

tomato soup (“Running away from my dick? I don’t think so.”)

cheese fries (“I love making you squirt”)

stuffed potato (“Just where you belong … on your knees for me”)

sarma (“Gonna put a baby in you”)

moussaka (“You look your best covered in my cum”)

caesar salad (“Lie to me again and you’re not gonna like what happens next”)

chicken skewer (“Be a good girl and cum for me”)

mac and cheese (“Only good girls get to cum”)

mango sticky rice (“Next time you try that shit I’ll make him watch while I fuck you”)

chicken fingers (“Yeah, you like being filled in both ends like a slut”)

butter chicken rice (“If you want it then you better beg for it”)

eggs and bacon ("Are you gonna stop moving or am I gonna hold you down?")

spring rolls ("All you do is complain, perhaps I should shut you up")

sloppy joe ("You have the prettiest mouth. Why don't you put it to good use?")

kebab ("Look at that my cock is splitting you in half")

grilled cheese ("I buy you nice things and then I get to fuck you in them. Sounds fair to me")

pot roast ("You going to let me take my anger out on you, sweetheart?")

chili ("Look at you humping my thigh like a bitch in heat")

california rolls ("Scream my name - I want everyone to know who's making you feel this good)

PB&J ("Look at him while I make you cum")

dumplings ("Ride this cock - it's your cock")

black pudding ("There we good, you're such a good girl, taking you punishment so well")

smoked salmon ("My good girl deserves a reward")

fish tacos ("Just lie back and let me take care of you")

seafood boil ("Maybe I'll make a mix tape of your moans to listen to while I drive")

spaghetti with meatballs ("Why don't you put on that pretty little set I bought for you?")

veggie burger ("Feel how hard you make me")

hot dog ("Thought about you while touching myself. The real things is much better")

ratatouille ("I'll mark you up so much no man will dare talk to you again")

bacon pancakes ("I love when you wear dresses. It's so easy to flip it up and fuck you")

chicken alfredo ("You haven't been very good, have you? And you know what happens to bad girls")

avocado toast ("Look at you all dumb and crying on my cock")

lasagna ("Where did all that cockiness go now that it's time to take your punishment?)

gnocchi ("You like when I treat you like a toy, don't you?)

mashed potatoes and gravy ("You had no problem getting fucked in here like a slut. Then you should have no problem walking out there with my cum dripping down your legs")

having a drink with your dish really elevates the experience, drinks represent different kinks

DRINKS:

ice tea (oral giving/receiving)

sweet tea (morning sex)

mint tea (body worship giving/receiving)

redbull (filming sex)

vodka redbull (squirting)

white claw (pegging)

white wine (sir kink)

red wine (daddy kink)

rose (spanking)

champagne (threesome)

old fashioned (drunk sex)

whiskey (double penetration)

mai thai (mirror sex)

cosmopolitan (temperature play)

beer (bondage)

root beer (blindfold)

apple cider (spitting)

apple juice (edging)

orange juice (overstimulation)

pineapple juice (wax play)

boba (anal)

smoothie (hickeys)

matcha (toys)

vanilla milkshake (nipple play)

hot chocolate (dry humping)

chocolate milk (thigh riding)

espresso (dom/sub)

black coffee (chocking)

mocha coffee (degradation)

pumpkin spice latte (losing virginity)

fanta (size kink)

coca-cola (somnophillia)

coke zero (free use)

pepsi (car sex)

lemonade (public sex)

strawberry lemonade (breeding)

coconut water (jealous sex)

sparkling water (phone sex)

iced water (dirty talk)

to end the night you might consider getting a dessert, in this case dessert is aftercare

DESSERT: 

yes (aftercare included) 

no (aftercare not included)

special instructions: tell me your favorite track/race at the end of your request and I'll throw you in a freebie on the house that goes best with your order

Thank you for visiting! Here at Dia's Diner your pleasure is our priority, so be on the look out for new additions to our menu. Come back again.

A/N: I'm so grateful for each and every one of your requests, but I just ask that you be patient about waiting for it since I don't have much free time because of school.

[authorred]

Frostbitten | Li Shen/Zayne x reader | Love and Deepspace

➺ Preface: Taking a trip with Zayne up to the snowy mountains was something you were looking forward to. Spending time with him and taking a break from your busy schedules are what you both need. But halfway through your trip, the aether core in your heart acts up, and your weakened heart begins to give.

➺ I was inspired by the one scene in Zayne's branched route trailer where he runs up to MC and carries her when she collapses TEEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE IT'S SO HOT SEEING MEN WORRY LIKE THAT HOOOYYY MMMMYYYYY GAAAWWWOOUUURRRDDDDDD

Warning(s): As angsty as I can make it. You almost die, good luck

As you step off of the train and onto the slightly snowy platform, you stretch your limbs and take in a deep breath. “Ah, finally,” you sigh in relief. “It’s no fun being cramped in a booth seat for three hours with nothing to do.”

Zayne comes up behind you wordlessly, carrying the few bags you brought with you on the trip. “Impatient as always,” he says. “Like a child.”

“I should’ve brought my laptop but I decided not to in the moment,” you sigh again. “I should’ve brought it for the actual travel time. Now I feel restless.”

“There’s plenty of things to do while we’re here,” Zayne assures. “It’s a small village, but I’m confident that you’ll find something that piques your interest. It’s rather easy to do.”

You roll your eyes and grab a bag from Zayne’s arm to help him. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it. I have the attention span of a goldfish.”

“Not quite a goldfish. Perhaps a small dog or a bird.”

You playfully shove him and his body follows through, stumbling a step or two away. You know he could’ve resisted a bit more, easily, but where’s the fun in that? “Shut up and let’s go already. We got a cabin waiting for us.” With that, you begin to stalk off in the direction of the station exit. Zayne doesn’t say anything and trails behind you like a shadow.

~

The cabin is much nicer than you originally thought. A cozy lounge, a small kitchen and dining area, and a loft upstairs with only one bed ;). There’s a nice fireplace in front of the small sofa with firewood already sat inside of it. It smells slightly of the outside trees, wood, and some hints of smoke.

“Oh, this is nice,” you say, placing your bags on the floor in the foyer. “Cozy and warm. I wonder if the kitchen is filled.”

“Just like you to be thinking of food.”

“It’s getting close to lunch—can you blame me?” You throw him a look over your shoulder before bouncing into the small, but homey kitchen. After inspecting all the cabinets and the small refrigerator you can see some left over nonperishables, bottles of water, pots and pans, and other miscellaneous items. “Mm, seems we’ll have to go into town if we want to actually eat food,” you say. “I’m glad it’s not that far from here.”

Zayne joins you in the kitchen and glances around. “It certainly is quaint,” he says. “Not bad.”

~

After an hour you and Zayne manage to make a small lunch just enough to tide you over. Afterwards you were planning to walk to the town store to buy more groceries for a proper dinner.

Halfway through your small lunch, you pause your eating. You take a moment, shifting and adjusting your body, rolling your shoulders out. You feel an uncomfortable feeling in your chest—as if the muscles are contracting. It’s a small point of discomfort but one you can’t ignore.

Zayne eyes you curiously, giving you a moment to assess whatever it is that’s wrong. After a few seconds of slight discomfort on your face he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just a weird feeling is all. Maybe I haven’t stretched enough. It feels like a cramp.”

“Where?”

“My chest.” You subconsciously rub where there’s pain, your fingers gently massaging into the skin above your heart. Immediately, Zayne’s face drops in concern.

“Do you have pain in your jaw or left arm? Do you feel tired? Nauseous?”

“What?” You blink at him. “No. It feels like a cramp. I probably didn’t stretch enough after my shift yesterday.”

Zayne doesn’t relax, though he takes your word for it. “I see,” he replies quietly. “Stretching after strenuous exercise is important in keeping muscles from straining or tearing. And to reduce soreness. Please make sure to do it whenever you can.”

You nod, the pain fading, but never disappearing. “I know. I will. After this I’ll do a few stretches and see if it helps.”

~

Despite your earlier complaint of having chest pain, you still insisted on taking a walk to the town store. Zayne was hesitant, preferring to do it himself or to make sure you’re okay. But your insistence won out, and now you two are traipsing down a beautiful snowy trail to the town.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you say. “Cold, but beautiful. Snowy mountains and terrain are always so picturesque.”

Zayne hums in agreement and looks around at the surrounding area before turning his head to look at you, who’s admiring the distant mountains. His gaze is uncharacteristically soft. “Some things truly are beautiful no matter what.”

You let out a chuckle and nod, still unaware of his eyes on you. “Yeah, it is.”

Halfway through your walk, you start to slow. You pause, taking a moment to breathe. It’s hard to breathe. Like you can’t catch your breath. Every time you attempt to take a deep inhale it’s like your body is stopping you. Dread wells up inside of you but youl try to calm yourself down. The pain in your chest that never fully stopped blooms again, and your face scrunches up in slight discomfort. You take a step back, attemping to collect yourself from the sudden slap of lightheadedness that just hit you.

Zayne stops a few feet away from you and turns, his face scrunching up in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Zayne, I don’t feel good. . .” You start to stumble, and Zayne immediately strides over to you. You reach your hand out to which he grasps tightly. He cradles your cheek in his other hand and looks down at you. His eyes flit over your face, taking in your expression and current physical condition. Your complexion is completely off, and you’re on the verge of losing consciousness. Your vision is blurry and you can make out his face through the lightheaded haze. Your chest hurts a lot.

Without a word, Zayne picks you up bridal style and begins to march back to the cabin. His brows are furrowed in determination and worry, lips pressed in a thin line. He’s not dumb. He knows what it is—it’s your heart. Most likely cardiac arrest from all the issues you have regarding it. He needs to get you medical attention—immediately. If he doesn’t, then—

Zayne shakes his head, clearing it of any unnecessary thought. His focus is making sure you’re okay. His steps are driven forward with the single thought of keeping you alive; heavy and steady. The nearest hospital to the cabin is close to 40 minutes away. He prays to whatever god there is to keep you from death in that time.

“Zayne,” you rasp out, your vision beginning to grow bright and contrasting. “My heart hurts.”

“I know,” Zayne replies softly, walking up the wooden porch of the cabin. “Hang on. Everything will be okay.”

You don’t realize you fall unconscious until the sense of impending doom vanishes.

~

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. The aether core in your heart destabilized and that caused your heart to give. Fluctuations of your evol forced your body to become unstable, and therefore unpredictable. Zayne managed to contact help but by the time it arrived your body was under so much stress from your heart growing weak, that it became borderline dangerous to perform any intervention on you.

Zayne is but a cardiologist. As brilliant as he is, this is not something within his realm. He knows about Protocore Syndrome and how it can affect the body and the cardiovascular system, but never before has it evolved in turning you into an unstable core yourself.

They had no choice but to intubate and isolate you. Specialists who had an idea of what’s going on said you very well could be a ticking time bomb (you can imagine how that went over with Zayne). Your body pulses and glows, following the veins in your flesh and circling around your heart like koi fish. It would be beautiful, if not for the fact you could possibly explode in a flux of evol so strong you could level the area.

Zayne watches from the observation mezzanine, his brows tightly knit together. He can feel his ice begin to spread across his neck and shoulders, the feeling a burning cold that forces him to look away from you. Taking a few deep breaths, he forces the ice to recede. It hurts. It always does. But he can’t help it. He can’t stop.

His eyes slowly slide back over to you. He knew he should’ve pushed you to take care of yourself more—or done it himself. Why didn’t he do it? Why do you never listen? He knew your heart wasn’t strong to begin with and yet you became a Hunter, go on dangerous missions, ignore instructions. . . something has to be wrong. There has to be a disconnect.

Is it him? Is he too cold? Too detached? If you die—

If you die. . . what then?

Zayne stands there for a moment before turning his head and walking from the observation window. He has a meeting to attend to; one that will decide on how to proceed with this issue. On how to care for you.

His Hunter will not die. Not under his care. Not while he’s alive.

[rinnyyyyyyyyy]

so tell me you love me.

wicked games - the weekend.

you and Carl get high, go into the woods and end up making out, one thing leads to another.

!tw - getting high, public sex & almost getting caught.

carl is 18 and so is reader.

..you were with Daryl, in the woods fucking around, scavenging..."the hells that?" you say, pointing at what looked like a house, you start walking towards it..until daryl grabs your shoulder and tells you to wait before getting in front of you with his crossbow ready to shoot at whatever. you get in side safely, and start rummaging through shit, until, you find some weed, you put it in your pocket. you didn't care wether Daryl saw or not, it's not like he would try to stop you. he knew you were a teenager and would still find one way or another to get your hands on it. "you find anything?" you ask, "....nah, nothin' good here..you?." ..you debated wether you should tell him what you found. "..nah. nothing good over here, either." .you two started walking back to Alexandria.

you were excited to finally be back, you missed your boyfriend, carl. and you genuinely couldn't wait to show him what you found in the woods, you were walking to his house. but on the way you seen his dad, "hey, rick, carl home?", rick looks at you "yeah. he should be there, you gonna go by?".."yeah.. I am" he nods and walks off, you get there and open the door, you start to head up to his room, you open the door and throw the pot on his bed.."you got paper, pookie?" you hear him laugh a bit at that. "well I do have some pretty thin paper? would that work?" he looks at you while holding some pretty thin paper "maybe, Its been awhile since I've done this. we could also use a can, all we need is a lighter but I got one." taking the paper and somehow managing to roll it.

"we should go to the woods, your dad could get here any minute, you know? besides, the house would start smelling." you look at him while licking the joint to make it stick together. "..yeah, sure. my dad would probably kill me if he found out we smoked inside anyway." you hum in response of that. you always thought rick would be more chill about that kinda stuff, considering you ARE in a zombie apocalypse. but once you started dating carl, that changed.

you two were in the woods sitting against a tree smoking away in silence. until carl breaks it. "you used to do this?" he said hitting the joint. "yeah, I used to take daryls cigarettes, until he found out." you laugh a little. "hey, carl." you say, "yeah?", you start to lean in him not noticing because of how high out of his mind he was, until you were right in front of him, both of your noses touching. you leaned in completely until your lips were touching, pulling you onto his lap, he kissed you. after a few seconds you pull back and say, "its still burning. give it here." you take it and turn it off. it hadn't even been a second after you turned it off, and he had you under him, pinned, legs entangled. his knee on top of your crotch area, you grunted when you felt his knee there. "carl!-" you moaned out, not meaning to. he laughed a little "what's wrong..? you were kissing all on me not too long ago." he said, pushing his knee down on him and leaning down to plant small kisses up and down on his neck, his hand running up the other males thigh and side. you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it when he got like this.

after a few minutes of making out and taking off each others pants off you hear something..or was it someone?. carl stops and grabs his knife from his pants next to him not knowing who it was.

until he saw michonne. he threw the knife to the floor with his pants, and got on top of you again. "..wh-" "michonne, don't worry about it. she didn't see us." he grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head with one of his hands, giving you a kiss.

"you ready, pretty boy?" as he spoke he was pulling down the waistband of your boxers waiting for you to reply. you gave him a simple nod, but he wanted to hear you. "use your words. I want to hear you." when he said that you took a deep breath. "yeah..im ready." when you said that he took your boxers off, and immediately pushed his middle finger in and started moving it in a circle motion. "Carl!- fuck!" you were whimpering out his name over and over just because of his finger. it made you feel unbelievably pathetic and desperate for his cock to be inside of you. "look at you..you look so pretty like this, baby." after he said that he pushed in a second finger and started stretching you out in a scissoring motion, truthfully, it hurts like a bitch, but it felt so good just because it was him. if it was anyone else you'd hate it.

after he finished stretching you out, he puts his thumb to your chin and taps it, "open, honey." so you do. and when you do he puts his ring and middle finger in, gently rubbing against the males tongue with his fingers. once he got enough spit on his fingers he put some on the males entrance while pulling his own boxers down with the other hand. releasing his hard cock. once he put some on your hole he put what was remaining on his tip and on the rest of him.

once he put the tip in he leaned down so he could kiss you, distracting you from the sting of his cock entering you. once he was halfway in he pulled away from you causing your moans to be louder. tears were starting to form in your eyes, from the sting. once he realized this he keeps going but speeds the process up a little.

"you're gonna be okay, it just hurts now but it'll feel better eventually, okay? just like the other times." he says wiping away any tears you had while you grasp onto leafs and sticks next to you. once he's fully in he looks at you for any sign that it's okay to move, "I'll start moving once you want me to, sound good?", you cant even bring your self to reply, considering what was inside of you at the moment. but once you felt like it was alright to move, you nodded. "you can.. you can start."

once he starts moving he starts off slow and gentle. him being settled on top your body, his hands at the side of your thighs, kissing and biting your collarbone. your hands scratching and clawing at his back, while your a moaning and whimpering mess. "cum with me, okay? be my good boy and cum with me." he says with little grunts here and there.

the slow and gentle pace didn't last long, he started being faster and rougher with you, your hands still scratching up his back because he's fucking into you so good that you can't think straight, you can't even make a sentence. all you can do is moan his name and be a perfect little stuttering mess for him.

as soon as you feel that familiar knot and uncomfortable feeling your back arches, and you grab onto his hair as if you're trying to tell him something, but it seems that's what it took to make him go over the edge. almost as soon as he came inside of you, you came on his stomach.

on your way back to Alexandria, you see Rick. waiting for you at the gates.

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Jealous Ex!Katsuki x Fem!Reader

A/N: this is totally not based off of how i wish my ex acted when i had a creep hitting on me ha.

MDNI - SMUT BELOW CUT.

WARNINGS: ANGST/COMFORT, SLEAZY CREEP, HURT, UNPROTECTED SEX, RECONCILIATION SEX, DRUNK SEX

-

It’s been six months. And I’m one drink down for every month since he left me. So I really shouldn’t feel as sick as I do when a random wraps their arm around my waist.

He tugs me into his scrawny, shirtless figure and my stomach lurches.

Everything smells of stale cigarette smoke. 

This is wrong.

Gently I push the stranger off, wandering back towards the bar. A tired smile from the bartender greets me.

“Hi lovely,” I smile, jumping up on the barstool.

“What can I do for you babes?” The small person hums, mousy hair flopping across their face.

“Can you make me another one of those yummy cocktails? Y’know, the one with the fireball and the-” I start, leaning inwards.

“The one that tastes like autumn?” They finish, a knowing smile.

“Yes!” I can feel my head slosh as I nod. Maybe I’m more tipsy than I thought. 

Unwanted arms twist around my waist yet again.

“Hey pretty,” Unkempt long hair tickles my shoulder. Hot breath on my neck. 

“I’m gonna go back to dancing,” I excuse myself, untangling us. Clutching my drink, I weave in and out of the crowd. The warmth is more uncomfortable than it was before, sticky and clammy.

A pain in my shoulder, my drink wasted on myself and the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” I start, embarrassment heating my cheeks.

“Hey, watch where you’re-” A voice, so familiar it hurts. Low, and consistently gravelly.

“y/n.” Shock changes his tone. Aggression turns soft. My heart squeezes.

Six months.

Six months and I’m still so undeniably in love with Bakugou Katsuki it hurts me.

“Hi,” I mumble, eyes trained on my hands.

He clears his throat and my eyes can’t help but follow the noise. 

Rubies.

I always said his eyes were rubies.

Not the blood of his enemies, like Kaminari so often joked.

Rubies.

Warmth and pain mixes inside of me, and I find myself biting my tongue.

I love you.

It would be so easy to say.

“Aww did you spill ya drink pretty? ‘S okay, I’ll get you another one.” Cigarette overtakes my smell and I do everything not to gag.

“Um, I’m actually gonna head home.” Shaking the man off yet again, I go to turn around.

“Ooh, ready for some fun are we? Lead the way, beautiful.” Hands around my waist, and my throat closes.

“No.” I shake my head, squirming out of his arms yet again.

“Aww, but baby” His arms are tighter this time, face nuzzled into my neck.

“Oi, she told you to fuck off.” Katsuki steps forward, and I go to turn my head.

“Ha, you’re just jealous that I’m gonna get somma this tonight.” Wet warmth trails up my neck and I cringe away.

Stifling hold is suddenly tugged away.

“She’s not interested, dickhead. Now fuck off before I make you.” Katsuki’s voice is grim, fearless. All I can focus on is wiping the saliva off my neck.

“Fuckin fine. She’s not that cute anyway.” I hear a huff becoming more and more distant.  

Another arm. New, but old; drapes across my shoulders.

“Gonna walk you home to make sure no more creeps try’nd attack you.” Katsuki mumbles, gently guiding me through the crowd.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

The outside air is cold, drawing me closer to the man’s core heat. Small sparks on my shoulder act as a radiator.

The walk is quiet, and my head swims too much to understand if its comfortable or uncomfortable. 

Only when we reach my apartment, does his warm arm leave me. 

As if it’s muscle memory, he lifts up the pot plant; grabbing the spare key and letting us in. Kicking off my shoes, I wander towards the next best warmth I can get.

My bed is cushy, a welcome comfort.

Katsuki enters not too long after, water and toast in hand.

“You need to eat before you sleep,” He says, plopping down next to me.

Rubies, full of warmth.

“Why are you being so nice?” I mumble, eyes stinging.

I miss this. I miss him.

“Cause I fucked up,” He whispers.

“What did you do this time, Bakugou?” I sigh, picking up the glass.

“I hurt someone because I didn’t want them to hurt me first.”

My heart hitches.

“But then I realised that all I did was hurt both of us, for no goddamn reason.”  The water splashes against the sides of the glass as I tremble uncontrollably.

“She won’t even say my name anymore.” The grief is heavy in his voice, breaking it gently. And I can’t hold back my tears.

“You said you didn’t love me anymore,” My voice warbles past the lump in my throat.

“I knew you could do better,” He mumbles, picking at the duvet he helped me choose.

“I don’t want better!” I cry, gripping the glass.

“I want you.” Glancing over, I can’t help but stare.

Bakugo Katsuki does not cry.

Yet diamonds fall from rubies.

“Then be mine again. Please.” He whispers, voice catching. 

And all I can do is nod.

Coolness of glass leaves my hands. Warmth cradles my cheeks.

“Thank you baby,” His lips meet mine, and I’m home. 

Home tastes like cheap cola from the bar. 

Home is our teeth clashing as we smile through tears and kisses. 

Home is my fingers twisting through staticy blond.

“I missed you so much,” I whisper against his jaw.

“Missed you more.” Strong arms pull me effortlessly into his lap. His hands stay on my hips, tracing gentle circles.

“Lemme show you how much I missed you.” Katsuki asks, tugging me impossibly closer. Kisses tickle down my neck, and my entire body floods with adoration.

“Please,” I nuzzle into his hair, savouring the closeness. I jerk my neck away as he gently bites exactly where he knows I hate.

“Katsuki,” I whine, shoving his face away. A warm chuckle reverberates through his chest. The sound is contagious, making bubbles in my chest.

“You’re an ass,” I bite back my smile, gentling pushing him further.

“Yeah, but I’m your ass.” He mumbles, pulling me back in. Arms push me down, feeling him grow beneath me.

My body clenches excitedly, as familiar hands start tracing up my stomach.

“Take this stupid thing off,” His voice vibrates against my neck, as he tugs at the hem of my top.

“Hm,” I muse loudly, deciding to have some fun. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You little shit,” He growls fondly, pushing the top up as his hands wander further. A gentle squeeze to my breasts is all I need to continue my attack on his jaw.

“But I’m your little shit,” I mock inbetween kisses. I feel his jaw clench beneath my touch.

“Alright, thats it.” He huffs, wrapping an arm around my waist.

Suddenly, I’m off his lap; the bed bouncing at my sudden shift in weight. The bubbles in my chest build until they burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s my pretty woman,” Katsuki smiles, eyes soft. Gently, he fully removes my top. And then his own.

The warmth of skin on skin is a comfort I’ve missed oh so much. 

Obviously, Katsuki missed it just as much; face disappearing into the valley between my breasts. 

Soft kisses leave pins and needles, and I reach for his hand. In an instant, our fingers are interlocked.

Like he never left.

I revel in the moment, using my free hand to trace patterns on his shoulders.

Small sparks greet my skin as his other hand massages my thigh. I feel myself dampen at the closeness - leaning into his touch.

“You sure you want this pretty woman? You’re still tipsy,” Its so odd, hearing such soft words from such a hardened, aggressive man. 

“Please, Kats” I breathe, moving my hand to his hair. A hum of agreement, and his loving assault continues.

I keep tracing patterns, unintentionally digging down as his hands get close to where I want them - no - need them to be.

A ghost of a touch, and I’m pushing myself up to meet him.

“Missed me that bad, did we?” He scoffs in amusement, fingers circling my clothed clit.

“Like you’re one to talk,” I mumble, cheeks heating. Softly grinding on me, my breath hitches.

“Sorry baby, but I’m not waiting anymore,” He whispers, pulling my panties off; his boxers following suit.

Rubies bore into me, sparkling with adoration.

And suddenly, pain and pleasure all in one.

“C’mon, you’re okay. You can take it.” Katsuki praises as he thrusts in. I blink through watery eyes, nodding.

The movement is slow at first, just until the pain falls away. 

Then, its relentless. 

The sound of skin on skin echoes through my small apartment, going at an unholy speed. My toes scrunch as I’m sent into ecstasy.

“See how much I missed you?” Hands grasp my hair, moving my head to the side to leave kiss after kiss.

“See how much I love you?” He grunts into my neck, suckling right near my jaw. Words fail, leaving me only able to whimper in response.

“Yeah that’s right,” He whispers to me, fastening his pace. More whines bubble past my lips.

“Love you so much, never gonna leave again, you hear that?” His words a near hiss, nipping my neck gently.

“Kats, kats, please,” I beg, gripping onto him for dear life. My stomach coils, and I don’t know how long I’ll last.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” He encourages, pushing deeper, faster.

I break, legs spasming as I gush.

But Kastuki doesn’t stop.

Instead, he pushes my ankles up near my ears - keeping his relentless pace. Tears spill over my cheeks at the overstimulation.

“Just a little longer, okay?” He promises, hot breath painting my thighs. I nod frantically, practically melting into the bed.

But the coil tightens again, and I can’t help but squirm.

“Come on, together this time. Where do you want me?” Katsuki asks, somehow pumping harder.

“Inside,” I croak through tears. It’s too much.

An eyebrow raises.

“You wan’t me to make you a mama, that it?” He huffs, beads of crystalline sweat coating his brow.

“Mhm,” I whine, clenching at the thought.

“Fuck, y/n.” He grunts, burying himself into me.

Warmth floods me, and my blond lover collapses ontop of me.

“Love you so much, Katsuki,” I whisper, tangling my hands through his hair. I press a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Love you more, dumbass.” He sighs, kissing wherever he can reach. 

-BONUS-

“I guess this means you’re reinvited to Tsu and ‘Chako’s wedding.” I hum, scratching his head.

“The fuck you mean ‘reinvited’?” Katsuki snarls sleepily, nuzzling into my neck.

“Honey, you were my plus one. You never got your own invite,” I gently remind him, amusement tickling my insides.

“What cunts.” He grumbles, pulling me close.

“Katsuki!”

[buggybambi]

Lmao imagine The Bear staff thinking it would be funny to have their waitress (who can’t cook to save her life) take on Family for the night, this being the second time, the first time she tried, Richie was like, “You work in a restaurant, you can’t be THAT bad… can you??” But after having severely burned macaroni, they didn’t ask her again until they thought it’d be funny to have her try to make Family a second time. BUT when she brings out the food it came out to be SUPER delicious and high quality food and they’re all like “???” Well it happens to be that Carmy conveniently left the table him and his staff were sitting at (when waiting for her to make the food) for a “smoke break”, really he went to go help his favorite waitress (that he’s most certainly in love with… and she loves him too hehe)

hi yeah this is so me core also my sincerest apologies for not getting to this sooner my loveliest! but this just makes me giggle.

the first time you are in charge of family, it goes so bad. you had warned them that it wouldn't end well, but they insisted. "you work in a kitchen, how bad can you be?" that question was answered when you dropped the pot of burnt pasta on the table, your hands on your hips.

"how did you- you work in a kitchen!" tina points out. "yeah, as a waitress! you guys are the fancy chefs." you counter.

the next time it rolls around, it gets dropped on you since tina is out sick at the last minute. "do we not remember what happened last time?" you ask when syd informs you of the change.

"don't worry, it'll be fine." carm reassures you. and it was! because he snuck into the kitchen to help you make some fancy ass food that actually has richie examining it like it could be poisioned.

"how did you manage this shit?" richie asks as he looks at you. you shrug as you take your seat. "i guess it's a miracle." you glance over at carm, who looks at richie.

"miracles, cousin. they happen."

i imagine he wouldn't necessarily stop at helping you during a smoke break but i think he'd also start teaching you and giving you cooking lessons. of course he's so mindful with you because he knows what it was like for him having an awful culinary teacher and he could never yell at you! you're the sweet person he's secretly in love with, the person he adores.

he'd be so proud when you can handle your own with the next time you're selected to host family. he'd even get you your own apron when he's teaching you. and of course we all know how i am going to end this: falling in love over cooking because hello!!

your first kiss with him is in the kitchen when he's teaching you how to make pasta from scratch. it's quiet, it's romantic. you two realizing you love each other after months of silent pining?

it's a miracle.

[passivenovember]

thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.

Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--

So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.

And then they find each other.

--

Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.

It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"

"--Why answer the phone?"

Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"

"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"

"I don't like being impolite."

Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"

"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.

"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.

Steve can hear a smile.

Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."

"So what?"

"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."

Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"

"What? You?"

"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."

"So did you--"

"--Fell outta my dreams."

"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.

"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."

Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."

"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."

"Sure, you didn't."

Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."

"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."

Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"

"Ha-ha."

"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"

Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.

"Harrington, I need to see you again."

"Need is kind of dramatic."

"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."

"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"

"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."

Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"

"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"

"--God, you are feeling dramatic."

"When can I see you?"

"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"

"Not sure."

Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."

"Tonight. I'll make it rain."

Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."

"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."

"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.

Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"

"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"

"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"

"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"

The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"

"--Aren't gonna eat you out."

"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."

"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"

"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."

"What's wrong with--"

"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."

"What about a sleep over?"

"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"

"Or I come over to yours, yeah."

"But--"

"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."

"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.

Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."

"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."

"I'm gay."

"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"

"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.

So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"

"I never said that."

"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."

Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.

Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"

Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.

He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.

Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.

Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--

"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.

Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"

Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"

"Damn--"

"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"

"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."

Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.

"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.

And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"For what?"

"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."

"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.

"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."

"Great."

"You've got something to write with?"

"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."

--

That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--

It rains.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 40: Home

Jackson holds a celebration. The final chapter of Yearling found on Tumblr in its entirety here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 7.7k

A/N: We are through the spoiler-y portion now and you're all OK to read from here if you just want to see how the fic starts to come to a close. There is no more overlap with TLOU 2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

December, 2002 

“Is that pot?” 

Your oldest brother, Brendan, damn near jumped out of his skin, looking around frantically for a moment before his eyes settled on you and he calmed, his hand going to his chest. 

“Shit, bug,” he said. “Yell it, why don’t you.” 

“If I yell it, Mom’ll take it away,” you said, joining him at the fence on the edge of your father’s property, climbing up and perching next to him in the moonlight. “But that means I need motivation to keep my big mouth shut so you’d better fuckin’ share.” 

He scoffed but passed you the joint, anyway. You took it and breathed deep, pulling the smoke into your lungs and holding it there until the urge to cough was too strong and you gave into it, handing the joint back to your brother, clouding the winter air with a pot-scented haze. 

“Jesus, getting high with my baby sister,” he chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“It’s because you’re getting old,” you teased lightly. He smiled and shook his head, taking a hit before passing it back to you. You took a hit, too, a smaller one this time, trying to make smoke rings as you breathed it out. “So. How’ve you been?” 

“Good,” he nodded slowly, taking the joint back. “Thinkin’ about starting up my own ranch…” 

“No shit?” You asked, brows raised. He nodded. “Good for you. Think you’d be good at it. I do gotta ask though… This have anything to do with Amanda?” 

You teased out the last word and he laughed. 

“Was waitin’ for that,” he said. “Talked to Mom have you?” 

“Here and there,” you said. “You really ask for Gran’s ring?” 

“Jesus…” 

“C’mon,” you elbowed him. “You’re thinkin’ of marrying her?” 

“More than thinkin’,” he smiled a little. “If I’m marrying anyone, it’s her.” 

He took another hit and passed the joint back to you and you nodded, mulling that over in your head. Your brother, settled down enough to get married and start a ranch of his own. It seemed like a completely foreign concept but it was one you liked. 

“You’d like her,” he said after a few minutes. “Amanda, I mean. She might come to New Year’s, think you two would get on like a house on fire. She’s studying to be a vet, specializing in large animals. Only person I know who likes horses as much as you.” 

“Damn,” you said, taking a hit yourself. “She does sound great. Too good for you, that’s for damn sure…” 

He snorted. 

“Don’t I know it.” 

You passed him the joint again. 

“Can I ask you something?” You said after sitting in silence for a minute. 

“Shoot.” 

“How do you know?” You asked. 

He frowned. 

“Know what?” 

“Know that…” you sighed. “I don’t know, know that she’s the one? That you want to marry her and all that shit?” 

He smiled a little, nodding knowingly as he did. 

“Well,” he said. “Sounds dumb, but… when you know, you know.” 

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I’m serious,” he said. “You’ll know. But… Well, she’s my favorite damn person. I don’t want to do anything without her if I can help it. I love everything about her, even the shit that drives me nuts. Mostly, though, I just want to live life with her, you know? Want to go grocery shopping and do dishes and fuckin’ mow the lawn… all that shit. It all sounds great because it’d be with her. That’s how you know.” 

You nodded slowly, trying to imagine feeling that way about anybody. It didn’t really seem possible.

“Don’t sweat it too much, bug,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “You got plenty of time before you need to worry about that shit. No need to rush into it. Just wait until the time is right and you’ve found the right person and then you’re good. It’ll all work out in the end.” 

He was right, you thought as you nodded again. You had all the time in the world but, eventually, you’d find someone you’d want to share it with. Even if that sounded insane now, you thought you would. You looked up at the cold, December sky, the universe stretched out before you and you took a deep satisfying breath. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think it will.” 

***

July 20, 2029 

“Joel, where the hell is your wife?” 

Tommy and Joel both looked at each other before looking to Maria, confused. 

“Don’t think it was my turn to watch ‘er,” Joel said, setting his whiskey down. “Actually, think it was the exact opposite of my turn to watch her what with tradition and all…” 

“Well maybe it should have been because I can’t find her,” Maria said, clearly flustered. “I’ve checked your place, her old place, the room she was supposed to be getting ready in…” 

Joel smiled a little to himself, shaking his head and getting up from the table. There was one obvious place Maria hadn’t checked. 

“Maybe she’s gettin’ cold feet,” Tommy teased, smirking. “Lord knows she’s too smart for you, anyhow. Maybe she figured it out…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel said, adjusting the collar on his shirt. He was in too good a mood to even give his brother shit back. “Don’t think it works that way if you’ve already been married a year and a half. Besides, I think I know where to find her…” 

“Just tell me,” Maria groaned, half-heartedly trying to stop him. “I’ll go. It’s bad luck for you to do it.” 

“Think we already had more than our share of that,” he said, giving her a wink. “Think we’ll be OK.” 

He left his brother’s kitchen and started toward the stables, walking in the opposite direction of most of the town, everyone making their way toward the gathering place in the middle. They gave him warm smiles and nods and congratulations as he passed and he smiled back, a little bubble of warmth in his chest that swelled as he made his way to you. Because while Maria might not know where you were, he sure did. 

He heard you before he saw you. 

“You’re doing good,” you said. “Try not to let your fingers get ahead of where your mind is though, that’s where you’re stutterin’ a bit…” 

“Easy for you to say,” Joel almost heard Savvy’s eyes roll as she teased you. “You don’t have as many fingers to keep track of.” 

You barked a laugh at that as Joel came into the stable. You were perched on the wall of Perseus’ stall, Savvy and Ellie sitting on either side of you, the guitar he’d made for Savvy in her arms. She noticed him before you did, giving him a little smile. 

“Here,” she said, passing the guitar to you. “You should play something Dad likes since you’re getting married today and all.”

“Look at you, bein’ all sentimental,” you teased lightly back. But you took the guitar and drummed on it for a moment before settling on a song. “Alright, this is the first thing he ever played me. His version is better but this song always makes me think of him now.” 

Joel just leaned against the door, watching and listening as you played I’m On Fire, that warm glow in his chest somehow growing as you did, wondering if you could possibly be any more perfect. You were wrong about one thing, though. Your version was better.

It had taken you a while to pick up the guitar again. You’d been back more than two months when he came home from a short patrol to find you on the couch, the guitar he made you in your arms and a determined - if frustrated - look on your face. You glanced up at him when he came in before looking back at the instrument. 

“I’m tryin’ real hard not to throw this,” you said, arranging your intact hand on the neck of the guitar. “But it’s pissing me off.” 

“Think I’d rather you throw the pillow,” Joel said wryly, coming to sit beside you. You rolled your eyes. “Want to show me?” 

“Not really,” you said but you did anyway, starting to play the way you had for years and then seeming to forget that you had two fewer fingers, notes missing and fumbled and you shouted in frustration, almost throwing the guitar before clenching your jaw and moving to set it on the coffee table. Joel took it from you before you could, setting it on the other side of the couch before pulling you against him and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were sounding good there, baby,” he said, stroking your arm. You scoffed. “Mean it, you were.” 

“Yeah, I was playin’ a mess of bullshit there at the end,” you said. “Real good.” 

“It’s gonna take time, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You spent a long time playing the way you used to. Takes a while to adjust. You’ll get there…” 

“Because there are so many famous eight-fingered guitarists,” you muttered, your voice thick. 

“Sure, but you’re better than every guitarist I’ve ever heard of,” he said, tugging you closer. “You will get there, baby. If anyone can it’s you.” 

You sighed but snuggled into him and he hoped that you believed him. He wasn’t just saying it. Something inside him knew that you’d find a way to make music again the way you used to. 

He was right. It took a few weeks - a few weeks of almost perpetual frustration - but you got there. He watched it happen, the moment it seemed to click into place almost startling in its clarity. You were playing in the kitchen while he cooked, not really working on anything in particular, just seeing what sounds you could pull from your instrument and how you could make them work together in that way you had when, all of a sudden, you played a few notes in quick succession. Joel frowned to himself and glanced over his shoulder, hoping you weren’t paying attention to him. You weren’t. You were intently focused on the guitar, your hands frozen on it for a moment before you did it again, adding more chords this time. The next thing he knew, you were playing the riff from Layla, laughing as you did. 

“Joel!” You looked over to him after playing it a few times and he’d stopped pretending he wasn’t watching you, just leaning against the counter so you had the space to do what you needed to do. “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah baby,” he smiled. “Sure did.” 

You made a giddy little noise and carefully arranged the guitar in your arms again before starting over. He had to practically pry the instrument away from you when dinner was done but you were beaming when he did, even though the place where you’d lost fingers was bleeding from the guitar strings. 

Joel made you something after that, a simple piece of leather that covered that sensitive place and looped down around your wrist. It seemed to work wonders for you, making it easier to play guitar and work with the horses and he let himself feel good about it. He’d done something for you that made your life here better. He could still take care of you, still give you what you needed. They hadn’t taken that, too. 

It still took a while for things to get back to normal. Or close to normal, anyway. After everything that had happened over the last two years, Joel didn’t think there was any real way to go back. You still woke up afraid some nights, his leg still bothered him more often than not. But there were good changes, too. Savvy had moved into the bedroom you’d set up for her, happy to have her mother to come home to again. Ellie came around all the time, often with her girlfriend in tow - something that had taken Joel by surprise but had settled into quickly. You’d even become more involved in Jackson, joining the council in the most recent election after Maria encouraged you to run. When the results had come in you sat there, wide eyed, for a moment before you got up and smiled and thanked people for voting for you. It was the shortest acceptance speech Jackson ever had. 

While he wouldn’t want to go back and relive the worst of those times, he was starting to think the heartache was there for a reason. It was to get you both here, to this place, building your family and community together. 

You finished the song and Ellie and Savvy clapped and you scoffed. 

“Sounded real good there, baby,” Joel said from his place by the door. You didn’t jump at the sound of his voice, instead just looking over your shoulder back to him. “Tryin’ to show me up?” 

“Nah,” you smiled, handing the guitar to Ellie and jumping down from your perch. “Never could with I’m On Fire. Other shit, though…” 

He laughed and shook his head a little as you walked over to him, a blissful smile on your face, and he gave himself a chance to really appreciate you in that moment. 

Joel always thought you were beautiful. You were beautiful when he’d first seen you in the forest years ago now, you were beautiful when you fell asleep against him when watching movies, you were beautiful when you came home covered in sweat and dirt and the smell of horse. But damn, were you ever beautiful here, like this. You were in a white eyelet lace dress that went down to your ankles, dropping low enough at the neck that the swell of your breasts were going to be a constant fucking temptation. Savvy had made you a crown of flowers that sat on your head and Joel’s old wedding band hung on a chain around your neck and your cowboy boots had been polished to shining and damn did he want to sweep you off your feet and carry you back home to hide you away from everyone else looking that good. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re the most beautiful woman on the damn planet?” He asked as you draped your arms around his neck and his hands found your waist. 

“You,” you smiled, your eyes crinkling at the edges with it. “From time to time.” 

“Should say it more then,” he smiled back. “Been slacking.” 

“You’re not supposed to see her, you know,” Ellie said, trying to sound stern but smiling a little instead. “Maria told me.” 

“Well someone decided to sneak away without tellin’ anyone where she was headed,” Joel teased lightly. 

You just smiled broader. 

“The important people knew where to find me,” you said. 

Joel looked between you and the daughters you shared. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Suppose we did.”

He took your hand and the four of you headed for the middle of town, Joel kissing you goodbye in a spot that was a little tucked away so not everyone would catch a glimpse of you. 

“You’re too damn pretty,” he smiled. “Don’t want to spoil it for everyone. See you up there?” 

You smiled back. 

“Try and stop me.” 

Joel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so happy as when he watched you walk down the aisle toward him. The two of you said more traditional vows this time, Savvy and Maria by your side, Ellie and Tommy by his. There was something about making promises to you publicly, where everyone the two of you knew could see, that just felt right. You exchanged new rings this time, ones made of the antler of a moose Joel had felled a few months earlier, him slipping yours on your middle finger this time. When he kissed you, the rest of the town fell away and it was just you and him, the way it felt like it should be.

The whole town celebrated after, tables put out on the grass and lights hanging from the trees. Someone had rigged up a sound system and the children of Jackson chased each other, weaving in and out of tables shrieking and giggling as they went. You and Joel were sat at a head table with the girls, Tommy, Maria and William and Joel kept his hand on your knee all through dinner. 

To kick off the dancing, Joel tugged you onto the floor, your chin tucked into your chest, and swayed slowly to Hallelujah, so like you had the first time he danced with you, before everything had fallen into place this way. You smiled and pressed close to him, moving alongside him in front of everyone the two of you knew in the world and Joel was happy. 

Back at your table, he was just starting to think of a way to steal you back to the house when Ellie gave you a look, jerking her head off to the side. You gave his shoulder a squeeze and smiled, a little nervously. 

“See you in a second,” you said, before following Ellie, who was whispering conspiratorially with you. 

“What in the hell…” Joel frowned, watching you. 

“Just have to wait and see, Dad,” Savvy said, looking far too pleased with herself. 

He didn’t have to wait long. You and Ellie returned with your guitar and a boom box, Tommy setting up a chair for you in the middle of everything so everyone could see you before cutting the music. 

“Hey, everyone!” Tommy yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. “Pay attention to my baby sister!” 

The whole of Jackson obeyed and Joel could tell that you were fighting the urge to just go and be next to him, far from the public eye. Instead, you stood next to Tommy, the guitar Joel made you dangling from your hand, Ellie standing nearby next to the boom box. 

“Thanks, everyone, for comin’ tonight,” you said, your accent thick like it was when you got nervous. Joel smiled a little, the sound of home coming from your lips. “Means a lot to us that you’re here and sharing this with us. It means a lot to me, especially. I know it took me some time to settle in here because I ain’t had somewhere to call home with anyone other than my daughter for a real long time. But here feels like home, and the way everyone here has welcomed us… it means everything to me. 

“Now, a lot of y’all may not know it but…” you took a deep breath and Joel could see you try to swallow your nerves. “I’m something of a musician. I don’t much like playing for anyone besides family but since I feel like y’all are family now, well… seemed only appropriate I play for everyone here tonight.” 

You sat down and rested the guitar on your lap. 

“Music’s always been the way I get my feelings out,” you said, now focused on Joel. His heart swelled. “I’ve never been great with words and I love you just doesn’t feel like enough when it comes to you, Joel. This ain’t much but… feels closer at least.” 

You gave Ellie a nod and she pressed play on the boom box and Joel had to fight to not tear up as you played, the song growing and swelling as it went on, the boom box adding in piano and violin. The music was beautiful and intimate and made Joel think of the quiet mornings he spent with you in his arms, trailing his fingers over your the curve of you, your breath warm on his skin, gently kissing his way over you before the world woke up and it was just you and him and the love you made together. He loved those mornings with you, he wanted countless more of them and he could practically see them now, laid out in front of him like the world at his feet.  

When the song ended, the whole of Jackson was silent, the only sound the rustle of the breeze on the trees. You tugged your lower lip between your teeth and, for half a second, looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you up. But then, all at once, everyone broke into applause, thunderous and adoring and you gave Joel a bashful look. Ellie took the boom box and your guitar to stash them away again as you made your way back to him, what seemed like everyone in town on their feet for you as you went. 

“Hope that wasn’t too embarrassing,” you said as Joel pulled you in close. 

“Baby, that was incredible,” he said, giving you a long, deep kiss. “I didn’t even know you’d been workin’ on the piano and the violin again!” 

“I know,” you smiled a little, pressing close and tight to him. “You’re a hard man to surprise. But once I figured out the guitar, I wanted to get those back, too. Tommy even helped me tune the piano at my old place.” 

Joel looked to his brother who gave him a small salute before he turned back to you. 

“You’re amazing,” he said, resisting the urge to take off with you then and there. You just rolled your eyes before he kissed you again and he tried to be content with just having his arm around you as everyone in town made their way up to congratulate the two of you. 

After what felt like a small eternity - and a few more dances with you - Tommy finally leaned over to whisper in Joel’s ear. 

“I’ll hold down the fort and make sure the girls are all good,” he said. “Get outta here before you lose your damn mind.” 

“Thanks, man,” Joel clapped him on the shoulder and Tommy just gave him a lopsided smile, one that Joel would would call paternal if it came from anyone else. He supposed it did from Tommy, too, now. It was still an odd thought, his brother finding his way to a wife and a place in the world before Joel had, that Joel was the one playing catch up and, in some ways, relying on his brother for help and guidance. But with you, it felt like he’d more than caught up. He’d come out ahead. 

“Hey,” Joel gave you a little squeeze and whispered in your ear. “What do you say we get outta here, Mrs. Miller?” 

“Really?” Your face lit up and Joel smiled and nodded. “Oh thank fuck, I don’t think I can talk to anyone who isn’t you or the girls again for a week…” 

He laughed a little, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s sneak out…” 

Joel took your elbow as you got up, the dance floor full as Tommy got to his feet, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone again. 

“Ladies and gentleman!” He yelled. “For the last time tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

Joel gave him a look and Tommy gave him a wink as everyone turned and clapped. You and Joel waved goodbye before he put his arm around your waist and pulled you tight against his side, leading you home. 

*** 

“Mrs. Miller,” Joel trailed his nose over your cheek, his words quiet in your ear. 

“Hm,” you grunted in response, eyes still closed. 

“C’mon,” he said softly, his hand smoothing over your stomach that was still covered by your wedding dress. “Gotta get up, we got places to be.” 

You opened a skeptical eye at that. The ceiling of your bedroom was painted orange by the sunrise and Joel was there, smiling down at you, his curls still a little unruly from where your fingers had wound in them the night before. 

“Where do we have to be?” You asked. “Pretty sure we get the day after our wedding off.”

“We do,” he said, his hand gliding over you, between your breasts in the low cut of your gown, over your chest to cup your cheek. “But still want to get an early start. Made you coffee, let’s go.” 

“Early start for what?” You asked, sitting up now. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “You’ll like it, promise. Think you can ride a horse in that pretty dress of yours?” 

You gave him an incredulous look. 

He laughed. 

“Fair enough. Then let’s get goin’.” 

“Do I need to pack a bag or anything?” You asked, trying not to groan as you got out of bed. 

“Already handled,” he said. “All I need is my beautiful wife to come along for the ride.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Think I can manage that.” 

You had coffee and slices of leftover wedding cake with Joel before walking with him, hand in hand, to the stables, the sound of Jackson just coming to life around you as you went. 

It felt a little silly to still be in your wedding dress but, you had to admit, it was a damn nice dress.

Staying in it the night before had been Joel’s idea. His lips had been working their way over your throat to your ear before he whispered to you there. 

“That dress of yours comfortable?” He asked, a little breathless. 

“Yeah,” you panted, pulling back just enough to frown at him. “Why?” 

“Because,” he said, taking a moment to nip at your lower lip. “Did things backwards our first wedding night, already had you naked when we said our vows. Kinda want to have you in the white dress, make a real pretty mess of you in it.” 

You smiled, reaching up and trailing your fingers through his hair. 

“Whatever you want, Mr. Miller.” 

He made you come four times in that dress the night before and you passed out in his arms before you could will yourself to move enough to take it off, too tired from the day of celebrations to bother changing once he was done with you. 

It had been Joel’s idea to have a wedding ceremony. He’d brought it up a few months before, once you’d fallen back into life in town again, things as normal as they could be now. You still sometimes felt the ache of fingers that were no longer yours, you still sometimes woke up afraid that your daughters were gone, but you’d healed, too. Your skin was no longer broken and raw, you could play the music you loved again, you could go down the hall and look in on Savvy when you woke up afraid she was gone. 

“We’re already married, Joel,” you laughed at him, your feet on his lap as you played guitar one night when Savvy was out with Kyle. Orion snuggled closer to your knee. “You forget that just because we don’t wear the rings anymore?” 

“Never forget that,” he smiled a crooked smile at you as he massaged the arch of your foot. “One of the best damn nights of my life. But… I think now’s a good time to celebrate that with our family. Girls weren’t there for it, neither was Tommy. Think it’d be nice to do it again with them.” 

You nodded slowly, mulling it over. It wasn’t a bad thought. You did want to share that with Savvy and Ellie, especially now that Savvy would actually be happy about it. And you knew that Joel had missed Tommy and Maria’s wedding, something he regretted now that he had a proper life here in Jackson. You understood why he’d want his brother there. You’d want your brothers there, too, if they were still alive. 

“Sure,” you said eventually. “Let’s do it. Have witnesses when you make promises to me this time around, really hold you to that shit…” 

He laughed at that. 

“Damn right, baby,” he said. “You can hold me to whatever you want.” 

Plans quickly grew, though, from just your family to family and friends to the whole of Jackson. Warren manipulated patrol schedules so there would be one afternoon that everyone was in town, damn near every chair and table that could be moved set up for the reception. It had become more than a celebration of you and Joel, changing into something celebrating the peace the city had known in the year since Mitchum’s downfall. 

The raider attacks became almost non-existent, patrols hunting down the smaller side groups and wiping them out quickly once Mitchum’s control fell away. After that, even the threat from infected lessened. With fewer people in the forests in the miles around Jackson, there was less reason for them to be there. Patrols had become quiet and mostly peaceful, the town no longer afraid of what they might lose every time the gates to the city opened. 

You were happy for the excuse for the focus to not be entirely on you all night, anyway. You’d never been comfortable being the center of attention and, while you liked having a chance to actually show how much your husband meant to you after years together, having that many eyes on you got old fast. Going home just you and Joel had been a relief. 

“Hey there love birds,” Olivia said when you got to the stable, two sets of reins in her hands. “Ready to get underway?” 

“Think so,” Joel said, taking the reins from her, Renaissance and Ares both packed like they were leaving for a long patrol. “Thanks for doin’ this.” 

“Hey, anything to get her to take a break,” she gave you a wink. “Lord knows she deserves it. Have fun you two.” 

“Joel,” you laughed, almost nervously, following alongside him as he led the horses to the gate. “Where are we going? What’s going on?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled a little as you reached the gates, handing you Renaissance’s reins. “Just have to keep up.” 

You raised your brows at him and he laughed. 

“Alright, just have to let me lead for a change, how about that?” 

“That, I can do,” you smiled. 

It was an easy ride, you following where Joel led, smiling and laughing and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of the forest as you did. For a while, you so rarely left Jackson after Mitchum. No matter what Joel and Tommy and Maria and Julie said, it didn’t feel safe. The worst things that had ever happened to you had happened outside those walls, it just wasn’t worth the risk to leave. If you were inside, in the house you shared with Joel and Savvy or at the stables or the Tipsy Bison, everything would be OK. 

But you missed the outside, too. You missed how crisp the air was when you were outside, the sound of the animals in the wild, the way the world spread out in front of you vast and unclaimed. 

Joel, Ellie and Julie had been easing you back into it. Julie asked you for help collecting fruit for one of her cocktail plans one day. You’d been hesitant but she convinced you, your whole body stiff the entire two hours you were outside, hyperaware of everything around you. But because you were so aware, you noticed everything too, things you’d missed like the rustle of the grass and the way the air smelled. You were a little more willing to go then. 

Ellie told you she wanted to practice shooting as she got ready to go back out on patrol, taking some time off from it after everything that happened. She asked you when Joel was busy and Olivia was there to take over at the stables and you knew it was contrived but you went with her, anyway. She kept you talking, pointing out different birds and asking questions about things that you knew she knew the answer to but it did make you miss being out in the wild more. When you told her you knew better, Ellie kept pretending she had no idea what you were talking about. 

Joel, at least, hadn’t tried to couch it in anything. He’d been holding you one morning when neither of you had to be anywhere, his fingers trailing gently up and down your arm. 

“Been thinkin’,” he said quietly before pressing his lips to your forehead. “We should take the horses out, go on a short trail ride.” 

You frowned. 

“Why? They’ve been gettin’ plenty of exercise, don’t have any that need to be tested outside of town right now…” 

“Because you could use it,” he said. You stiffened but he kept tracing his fingers over you, up and down.

“Joel…” 

“You’ve been gettin’ out here and there,” he said gently. “And I know you miss it.” 

“I miss how it used to be,” you corrected him. “It’s different now.” 

“Don’t have to be,” he said. “Just come with me.” 

You sighed, but he kept going. 

“Just a few hours, not gonna take you far,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, trying to calm your nerves as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Would I try to get you to do somethin’ that wasn’t safe?” He asked gently. You gave him a look and he smiled a little. “I’ve got you, baby. Just you and me where you can open the horses up and get back out in the trees a little. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ve got you. S’OK.” 

His eyes were so soft and his face was so open that you sighed and agreed. The first time had been scary. You only went for a few hours but you couldn’t relax the entire time you were gone, fully outside what felt like Jackson’s control for the first time since you’d come back. But Joel was right. He stuck close to you the entire time, always watching for any kind of threat, always ready to protect you. You made it back to Jackson in one piece, the only shots fired to take down a few stray infected ambling through the area. 

He gradually got you to leave the walls of the town more and more, even convincing you to bring Savvy and Ellie along one day, and you realized - as you sat on a picnic blanket with your husband and daughters - that the safety may not have been the walls of the city after all. It may have just been Joel. 

You felt comfortable now, outside Jackson with the man who had become your home, your safest place, your husband twice over. The trees were thinning, four hours into your ride and off the more beaten path. You looked at Joel, brows raised and he smiled. 

“That’s where we’re headed,” he said. “When we get to there, go ahead and open ‘er up, you’ll know where to go.” 

“So mysterious,” you teased and he shrugged, smirking a little, as you broke through the trees. 

The sight was almost damn near idyllic, a small lake that was clear as glass, a cabin with a big front porch complete with a swing sitting on the other side of it. You looked at Joel, mouth open in shock. 

“Me n’Tommy found it few months back,” he smiled. “Been fixin’ it up. Plenty of space for us, the girls, anyone they want to bring along. But… wanted to break it in right, just you and me. Besides, pretty sure I’ve owed you a honeymoon for a while now.” 

You laughed, almost giddy, and pushed Renaissance into a full gallop, skirting along the edge of the water, standing in the stirrups so the air sent the skirt of your dress billowing out behind you. You rode her up to the porch, slipping out of the saddle before she’d come to a full stop, too excited to get a look at the place. You realized there was a small dock just off the porch, a rowboat tied to the side of it, and wildflowers among the grass outside the cabin. 

“I do OK?” Joel asked, getting off Ares and coming up alongside you. 

“This is amazing,” you said, awed, as you took it all in. “I can’t believe you did all this, it’s…” 

You couldn’t find the words, just looking at him, a small smile on his lips. 

“C’mon,” he said, taking your hand and leading you up the front steps. He opened the front door but stopped you from going through it. “You gonna let me carry my wife across the threshold? Always wanted to do that with you in a wedding dress.” 

You laughed a little and draped your arms around his neck. 

“Think that can be arranged.” 

He bent and swept you off your feet and into his arms, making you laugh. 

“Then let’s go, Mrs. Miller.” 

He carried you through the front door and into the living room, some faded couches and mismatched arm chairs around a fireplace. Behind them was a table big enough to have the whole family gathered around it, a set of stairs beyond that and a kitchen off to the side. There was a bundle of wildflowers in a jar of water in the middle of the table, a shelf of board games and cards sitting next to the hearth. 

“Give me a few minutes to get the horses settled,” he said, setting you down and kissing your temple. “Then I’ll show you the best part of this place.” 

You took your time taking in the place, how much care you could tell Joel and Tommy had put into it. You could see places in the wall that had been patched, shelves that had been mounted. There were stores of canned foods in the cupboards, a canister of tea, a jar of honey, even a pair of matching mugs, both chipped with little owls on them that made you smile. In the living room, there was art on the walls: one of a horse grazing in an open field and another of a deer standing next to a moose in a clearing. You smiled, leaning in closer to see Ellie’s signature in the corner. 

“She wanted to contribute,” Joel said from behind you and you turned to face him. He set packs down on the couch and you smiled as he came to you, putting his arms around your waist and tugging you against him. He trailed his lips along your forehead, your temple, down toward your throat, his hands slipping up your sides to slide into the low neck of your dress, making you moan. 

“Want to see my favorite part about this place?” He asked, heat on his voice. You just nodded  and he pushed the top of the dress down, bearing your chest to him. “No one around for miles. All alone out here. So I can have you all to myself, naked, in that water out there.” 

He took the globes of your breasts in his large hands, cradling the weight of them gently in his palms, squeezing you and you groaned at his touch. He kissed you, dipping his tongue into your mouth and you pulled at the buttons of his shirt, opening them one by one. 

“Should get me naked then,” you said breathlessly when he pulled away from you ever so slightly. “That water looks awful inviting.” 

You undressed each other quickly then, Joel’s shirt and pants ending up in a heap on the floor, your dress draped over the couch. He took your hand and led you outside, pulling you along into the cool water. It was smooth and clear on your skin, the sandy bottom of the lake soft on your toes. He pulled you deeper, until the water was up to your shoulders, before tugging you against him. You smiled and he tilted your head so he could kiss you, his thumb over your cheek, fingers curving around the back of your neck. 

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you said quietly as he held you close. His thick, hard cock was pressed against your stomach, your breasts pressed against his wet skin. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, his forehead against yours. “I want to give you everything, baby.” 

You reached and put your arms around his neck, arching your back against him. 

“You already have,” you said softly. “You gave me you.” 

His hands drifted lower, cupping the round of your ass and lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. His cock was pressed against your slit and you moaned at the feel of it, the way the water and the tip of him moved against your clit already making your pussy tighten. He lifted you, dragging the thick of his length over your sex until he notched his head at your entrance and he moaned. 

“Goddamn baby,” he said, voice tense with want. “Can feel how warm you are inside already…” 

He pulled you down onto him, his cock pressing into you slowly, slow enough that you could feel how he opened you to him, stretching you around him. You groaned, burying your face in his neck and breathing in the smell of him. 

“Fuck you feel good,” his mouth trailed over your neck, your bare shoulder. “So goddamn good, taking me so well…” 

Your fingers sank into his skin and you pressed yourself impossibly closer and tighter to him as he bottomed out inside you, your clit pressed against the base of his stomach, the whole of him thick and heavy inside you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered. “You’re so deep, feel so good…” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he breathed, taking his hands from your ass to your back to clutch you close. “I know.” 

He held you close and tight and you managed to pull your face from his neck to look at him, your eyes on his, noses brushing, breathing into each other as the water cradled you both. You moved together, every rock of your hips and thrust of his slow and aching. You weren’t able to tell where he ended and you began and you could feel his breath quickening as the heat inside you grew stronger, your channel getting tighter. 

“Want you to come for me,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Need to feel you, come on baby and come for me.” 

You could only moan in response, his thrusts growing firmer as you pressed your clit against his skin, his arms tightening around you. You were right on the edge, so close exploding around him. 

“Come with me,” you managed, clinging to him. “Please, I need to make you come, please…” 

He cut you off with a kiss, swallowing your needy sounds, moving in you desperate and claiming. Your orgasm built higher and higher, drawing you so tight around him it seemed impossible until he pulled you so close it almost hurt, body flush to his as you felt him come undone inside of you. 

It only took a moment for the pulsing of his cock to set off your own orgasm, making you throb and flutter around him as rope after rope of his come filled you. For a moment, it was as though you and Joel were the only people left in the world, the way he was around and inside you the only thing you could be sure of then. 

He held you after both your orgasms eased, his softening length still inside you, your head on his shoulder, your arms around him as his lips brushed your neck. The water was still and quiet around you, a soft breeze on the air and you smiled against his skin, a sense of peace settling over you as you did. 

It had taken so long to reach this point, so many years of pain and healing, so much you needed to move past. But it had all led you here, where you were together, where everyone you loved was safe and happy and you didn’t need to be afraid anymore. 

Joel’s hand trailed slowly up and down your spine and he pressed a kiss into your skin. 

“I’m so happy we got here,” you said quietly. 

You felt him smile against your shoulder. 

“Me too, Bambi,” he said, kissing you again before pulling back from him just enough to look you in the eye. “Come a long way in the last few years.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Hard to believe,” you said. “I didn’t think I’d ever have something like this. I didn’t know it was possible to have something like this.” 

“Me, too,” he said. “Makes it feel like all the shit we went through to get here was worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, kissing him gently. “It does.” 

You looked in his eyes, just appreciating him for a moment, the tan of his skin and the gray of his hair and the wrinkles and the scars that told the story of everything that he’d survived and felt deeply that he was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever held. 

“So,” he said after a few minutes. “Since this is a honeymoon and all, we got the place to ourselves for as long as we want it but figure we’ll want to get back to the girls before too long. What are you thinkin’ baby?” 

You hummed for a moment, considering. 

“Well,” you said. “I do miss the girls. But… I like having you all to myself. Think I want to stay here, where I can take advantage of the fact that I can get you naked whenever I want, for at least a few days. Maybe a week.” 

He smiled. 

“Week sounds good,” he said. 

“Plus,” you said. “We can always come back in the future. Have as many honeymoons as we want.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled wider. “We can. We got time.” 

You kissed your husband, soft and slow, before pulling away and smiling back at him. 

“We do,” you said. “We have all the time in the world.” 

A/N:

Hi, everyone!

I cannot believe we are here. Exactly one year ago today I published the first chapter of Yearling and now I'm publishing the last.

Thank you so so so much for going on this journey with me, Joel and Bambi. These characters have meant so much to me over the past year and it has been just an absolute joy to share them with you. I hope you've enjoyed how they've grown together and built the life they'll have from here on out.

If you'd like to keep reading what I'm sharing, I am starting up another few fics. There's an AU of Yearling that you can find here and I am working on another Joel fic that is a no-outbreak AU where Joel is reader's bodyguard. It's called The Savage and the Sanctuary and you can find that here.

I've always been bad at saying goodbye, so I won't do that. I will just say thank you for coming on this adventure with me and for all the love and support you've shared. I hope to see you again soon.

Be well, take care of yourselves, and spread a little kindness in the world.

Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[christinarowie332]

“id be a fucking idiot if i said no to that”

matt sturniolo x reader

a smoke session with a pretty boy

warnings: suggestive asf ? droogs ofc . language

____________

i cough for the fourth time tonight .

“bro i thought you were like this stoner chick what’s going on ?” the boy sat opposite me asks , his voice deep with smoke after inhaling .

i regain my composure with teary eyes and sniff my nose while laughing .”your girlfriend grows some serious shit man” i say before coughing again and grabbing my white red bull from the table .

i take a sip and notice the blue eyed boy scrunch his eyebrows in confusion, smirking slightly. “my girlfriend? who said i had a girlfriend?”

“your weed was rolled in pink paper and i’m pretty sure they’re cherry flavored? u either have a girlfriend or you play for the other team” i reply matching his smirk and holding my arm out , gesturing him to pass over the blunt .

he inhaled one more time and passes it over with pinched fingers . he squints his eyes to hold in a cough before exhaling the thick vapor . “my brothers girlfriend gave us all a little hamper each for our birthdays . these were in them . but you are right that’s some serious weed” he laughs over the last sentence, leaning forward and grabbing his root beer .

“ahhh, of course . your matt right , chris’s brother?” i say while snuffing out the now fully smoked blunt and flicking in in a plant pot .

we were sat on a porch in some random kids garden on two opposite benches. i met chris last party me and my friend went to and to be honest i fully forgot about him until now , the whole night was a blur after being cross faded and getting home was a mystery .

“so that’s why you look so familiar!” i continue, slumping back in my chair and crossing my legs .

he mirrors my actions , leaning back and adjusting himself slightly thrusting his groin and man spreading . i watch him do this before realizing where i’m looking and quickly meet his gaze . his eyebrow twitched at this and smirked , noticing my gaze and huffs a laugh from his nose .

i take a deep breath to compose myself as i feel a rush of blood travel to my face and other places . “anyway , your brother seemed nice enough, his girlfriend too .” i say to try and diminish the growing tension.

“he didn’t mention you , somehow” he says eyeing me up and down , looking at my baggy low waisted cargos , then to my low cut long sleeve cropped sweater . his eyes not meeting for my own as his glare lingers like the smoke around us .

i shift slightly under his gaze , he notices and meets my eyes , pupils blown out and heavy from the high we both start to feel . the light blue i was becoming accustomed to ,shifting next to the pinkish tones . making them swim with lust.

“so you uh..” i clear my throat in anxiety , “you didn’t specify ?”

his face shifts from a calm and cold expression to a now confused one .

i take his silence as a hint and continue.

“u got a girlfriend?”

he smirks at this , tongue pressed to the inside of his mouth “i don’t no” he says quietly. his voice low and hourse

“play for the other team?” i tease raising eyebrows and leaning forward in challenge

“i’ll leave that to my brother nick” also leaning forward , not being intimidated and honestly intrigued as to where this is going .

i hum in response. leaning back because unlike him, i am extremely intimidated.

he shifts his body to the edge of his chair and leans over the table separating us . staring at it for a while seemingly fighting with his own thoughts. he hesitates for a moment before pushing himself off the chair and walking around the table towards me .

i watch as he does this , my heart racing slightly as he plops down next to me .

we both put an elbow on the back of the bench we now share . angling our bodies towards each other .

“i didn’t get your name?” he asks leaning back slightly and smiling .

“it’s y/n” i reply , tilting my head and smiling .

i could smell his cologne, mixed with the mint and weed on his breath as he whispers while leaning forward towards me. “your uh …” he hesitates trying to pick a respectful word to use , even though the thoughts he was having was far from it “your very pretty y/n.” he says while moving a piece of my hair behind my ear .

my breath hitches at his touch and i side eye his hand as it moves to the side of my head . the warm lighting highlighting the shadows from his veins .

i couldn’t think of a response , my body tensing up at his words and ceaseless touch . he enjoys the sight of me nervous and drops his hand to my thigh, running it upwards to my pocket .

in a trance i miss as he grabs the lighter that’s hanging out of said pocket and holds it up to my face . before grabbing another joint from his own pocket with a crooked teasing smile.

i roll my eyes and shake my head slightly before speaking. “wanna shot gun?” i ask with a raised eyebrow

his head snaps towards me . “i’d be a fucking idiot if i said no to that”

i snatched the joint and lighter from his hands , before lighting the rolled plant and chucking the lighter to the side .

i get up from my seat . feeling a surge of confidence and deciding to match his energy. “it’s better if i do this” i said before straddling his lap and adjusting myself on him .at the sudden movement he flinches and his eyes shoot to mine . widely in warning.

i’m the one smirking now knowing exactly what i’m doing before inhaling the blunt , taking a long drag not breaking the eye contact. i put my arm holding the joint out to side and putting my free hand on his jaw . i tilt his head up before closing the distance and blowing the smoke into his mouth .

he keeps the eye contact still , never looking away , but tilting his head upwards , exhaling the smoke and biting down on his bottom lip agains a smile threatening to form .

we stay looking at each other for a few seconds before he grabs the joint out my fingers , licking his own and snuffing out the half lit end . his teeth flash as he hissed at the pain. he throws the joint to the floor and looks back at me grabbing the side of my face .

“fuck that” is all i hear from his lips before they’re smashed onto mine . all most immediately it turned into a heavy makeout , him moving from kissing my face down to my neck. i throw my head back and move my hips on him slightly . his teeth graze my neck at the movement. his hand moves from my face , against my neck, his thumb pressing down on my throat slightly and a his other hand running from the back of my neck , down my back, to my ass . lifting me with the movement .

after a good few minutes we both pull away to get our breath , and to slow down the pace as neither of us felt like getting caught doing anything more then kissing on some random guys patio .

his nose was red and lips swollen . hair messily plastered to his forehead and raised at the back from my needy tugging .

“your number”he whispers breathlessly , nodding his head messily .

“what?” i say as out of breath as him , tilting it .

“i need your fucking number , and i need to do this again”

—————

HEHEHEHHEHEGGEHEGGEGE

god he’s so hot

🤍🤍🤍

taglst/bbgs

@mangosrar @jcwrites-blog @sssturniolofart @soursturniolo @sturnphilia @daddyslilchickenfingers @def-livv @urmyslxt @littlebookworm803

———

i am literally in shock from how many people are likeing my shit right now you are all the sweetest people ever . love every single one of your with all my heart .

[icejjfishesz]

001. ༺...OR JUST LOOK LIKE ONE༻∘

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: reader is down bad. paige in a situationship. kinda angsty.

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

the apartment is a lot quieter without tina. she made a lot of noise. you could still vaguely hear her terrible singing as she’d shower, cook, or clean; how she’d wake up early in the morning to make elbarote breakfasts that caused pots and pans to fall…very often; and the fact that she’d watch anything on her phone at max volume. 

in retrospect, she was kind of annoying.

but she was nice and you lived with her for almost a year. you’d gotten so used to her. 

but now, it’s quiet. and the only thoughts you had were thoughts of not being able to afford rent next month. luckily, sean, your best friend knows basically everyone on campus and kindly agreed to ask around for you.

you’re in your car after stopping to get fast food. you shove a few fries in your month as sean shuffles through his phone to show his instagram conversation with a potential roommate for you.

“okay, so…” sean shoves his phone in your face. “this…is ellie. she’s looking for a roommate and –– ”

“i slept with her…” you mumble after seeing the username. “didn’t end so well…”

“damn…okay, next.” he swipes through his phone again. “okay…this is emily. she’s a straight a student and wants to know if you’re okay with pets?”

you hum. “what kind of pet?”

“um…let’s see.” he shuffles through the text conversation and chuckles. “oh, a twelve inch snake?”

“no thank you…”

“aw, really? it’s kinda cute actually…”

“nope.”

“okay, next candidate.” he takes a big bite of his burger, chews for a while then takes a sip of his drink before he slides through his phone again. “alright, we have paige…it seems like she’s coming from a similar situation to you. roommate kicked her out after getting married at 19…yikes.”

you peer over at his phone. “give her my number…”

“already trying to sleep with her too?” sean snorts and you roll your eyes. 

“so that i can text her about the place, idiot.” 

“oh, yeah…” he taps on his phone a few more times and then you feel your phone vibrate.

FROM: PAIGE

hi

i got ur number from sean

you’re looking for a roommate?

TO: PAIGE

yes!! 

just have a few questions first

FROM: PAIGE

like what?

TO: PAIGE

do u smoke?

or own a ten inch snake?

and do u wash ur dishes?

FROM: PAIGE

nope

no??

yes

TO: PAIGE

*address*

are you able to come over tomorrow?

FROM: PAIGE

yes

what time?

TO: PAIGE

whatever works

FROM: PAIGE

i’ll come over around 12:30 then?

you smile at sean, relaxing for the first time since tina moved out. “thank you so much, sean. seriously.”

“hey, i would’ve let you stay with me but i live in a tiny ass dorm so…” he chuckles. “besides, if you became homeless, where am i supposed to go when my roommate need the room to fuck his boyfriend?”

you snicker. “good point. is it really that bad, though?”

“they’re like feral rabbits…” he mutters.

the next day, you hear a knock at the door at 12:27. she’s punctual, that’s a good sign. you open the door, breath catching in your throat when you see her. she smiled at you and you died a little. 

damn, why didn’t sean tell you that she looked like that?

she’s tall, definitely athletic by build, pretty eyes, and a warm smile. you’re fucked.

“hey, i’m paige.” she holds her hand out for you to shake and you have to physically refrain from shuddering. hello, paige. her voice…welcoming and warm, you hand to clear your throat to stop yourself from screaming.

it’s a great terrible idea to fuck your roomate. you remind yourself over and over again as  you take her hand, tell her your name which she already knew, and invite her into your apartment.

“nice place…” she steps inside cautiously. 

“thanks.” you stop yourself from checking her out any longer, not wanting to be creepy. stop being fucking creepy.

she looks around, you’d just finished cleaning. 

“so you’re an athlete?” you clear your throat, trying to politely strike up conversation.

“yeah, basketball.”

you internally groan at the slight smile she gives you when she answers your question.

“that’s –– ” hot. “cool.” 

she nods, turning to face you. “so is there anything i should know before i agree to move in?”

“oh…well, my best friend sean comes over sometimes. he sleeps on the couch occasionally but he’s really clean and respectful.” she nods, not looking bothered by that information. “and, um…i’m gay if that sort of thing bothers you…”

she snickers, shaking her head to herself. “doesn’t bother me at all…”

“oh? are you…?” “yeah.”

damnit. she looks like that and she likes girls? you’re so fucked.

“what about you?”

“what about me?” she licks her lips.

“anything i should know about you before i give you the key.”

“well, i’m kind of in…a relationship. kind of, not really.” fuck, that sounds complicated. too complicated. “it’s…i dunno…but, uh, she might come over if that’s okay?”

you swallow thickly, yes that sucks goodbye!!  “no, i get it…no problem as long as you pay your rent on time.” you die a little on the inside again.

she smiles again, it’s painfully beautiful. “i can definitely do that.”

you hand her the key and clear your throat again. “alright, roomie.”

[fickleminder]

be our guest

DWBD AU. When Diavolo comes over to the House of Lamentation for dinner, the demon brothers realize it would be a perfect opportunity for you to expose their horrible treatment of you.

DWBD AU masterlist here.

"Don't you dare," Lucifer pointed directly at you, causing your foot to hover just above the threshold, "take one step further."

You didn't know how he caught you trying to enter the kitchen while his attention was focused on Beel. Maybe he really did have eyes in the back of his head. "I don't mind helping—"

"We got this, so scram!" Mammon yelled from behind the stove. Black smoke was already wafting out from his pot.

You knew Lord Diavolo coming over for dinner would be a big deal, but you didn't think it'd be this big. The prince wanting to eat human world food wasn't too surprising; trying different cuisines was part of cultural exchange after all, and it made sense to host the meal on your home turf, so to speak.

The Avatars didn't take the news well, however. You thought they'd be thrilled to have the opportunity to enjoy your cooking again, but instead of leaving all the work to you as you'd expected, they demanded detailed step-by-step instructions for whatever dishes you were planning to make and told you to stay out of the kitchen. At most, you would be allowed to take on a supervisory role, but with Lucifer refusing to even let you in past the doorway, there was only so much you could do.

"Psst, hey!" You glanced towards the nearby window to see No. 2 waving at you cheerfully. "Can you open the front door? I have reinforcements!"

To your surprise, reinforcements came in the form of seven little D's and the Lord of Time himself.

"Good afternoon. How are the preparations for tonight's meal coming along?" At Barbatos' signal, the little D's scurried into the house carrying baskets of fresh groceries.

"I've been banned from the kitchen, for some reason," you admitted, wincing when you heard Asmo's shrill scream and a loud crash. "…I don't think they're doing too well though."

"That won't do. My Lord sent me ahead specifically to ensure dinner goes smoothly." Barbatos rubbed his chin and hummed. "If the little D's and I were to assist you, would the preparations be completed in time?"

"Sure thing! It won't be the first time I've had to cook for such a large group, but I'll take all the help I can get!"

"Wonderful, I'll be with you in just a moment. Please excuse me."

A blink, and Barbatos was gone.

.

.

.

Things were spiraling out of control.

Mammon and Levi kept fighting over the utensils and recipes. At some point, the steps you had painstakingly written down got drenched and became illegible, forcing them to improvise.

Beel insisted on taste testing everything, taking bite after bite until plates and bowls were scraped clean. Belphie was there to keep his twin in check, but mostly ended up dozing under the counter.

Asmo refused to risk chipping his nails doing menial work and was backseat cooking behind Satan, who started burning more food out of sheer irritation. Several pots and pans had already become dented beyond repair.

Lucifer made a valiant attempt to manage his brothers, but to no avail. Even if he wasn't constantly undermining you when you tried to give instructions from the doorway, he kept trying to take over the individual tasks, insisting he could do them better. This dinner was going to make or break the exchange program and everything had to be absolutely perfect or—

"Gentlemen," was the only warning before a blur shot through the kitchen, knocking everyone off their feet and forcibly throwing them all out. Barbatos stood over the resultant pile of limbs and dusted his gloved hands with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "We'll take over from here."

Lucifer tried to rise to his feet. "But—"

"Do set the table in the meantime. I trust even that should be within your capabilities?"

The butler's tone practically threatened a surprise house inspection if they didn't comply. Effectively cowed at that point, the brothers obeyed.

.

.

.

Lord Diavolo's laughter echoed all the way into the kitchen, and you grinned to yourself as his generous compliments reached your ears.

"Are you sure you don't want to join them? We can handle the rest in here," No. 2 asked.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll probably feel super out of place there anyway." You added another heap of ingredients into the boiling pot. "Did you remember to remove my plate from the table?"

"I did!" No. 5 piped up. "Did I do a good job?"

"Aww, yes you did!"

"Yayyy~!"

"Do not forget that you are our guest too, in this realm." Barbatos spoke up softly, and all the chatter from the little D's immediately fell silent. "From the way you're avoiding dining with the Avatars, it's clear we've been remiss in our hospitality."

Of course Barbatos would see through your act. After all, his own placid smile hid secrets you couldn't even begin to imagine. "Really, it's fine! I'm used to it by now. Besides, someone's gotta keep the food coming, and you guys are technically the guests here so…"

The corners of the butler's lips twitched upwards. "Touché. In that case, I will personally see to it that you are rewarded for your hard work tonight. Why don't you begin by telling me your favorite pastries?"

.

.

.

Despite your exhaustion, you stood at attention when Lord Diavolo shook your hand at the end of the meal, thanking you for serving up such a scrumptious dinner. Your smile was genuine as you waved him goodbye at the front door, and you only allowed it to drop once all the castle's residents have left through a portal.

Behind you, the brothers were sweating bullets as they watched you lower your hand and just stand there, staring into the distance while their minds raced.

Did you say anything to Barbatos while you had him alone? It would have been a golden opportunity for you to air your many grievances to him; half the things the brothers had done to you would have easily seen them thrown into the royal dungeons for being such poor hosts.

You had never dared to approach Lord Diavolo yourself in spite of his friendly demeanor, partially due to Lucifer's many reminders about knowing your place. But he never expected the prince to come to you instead, and so he had rallied his brothers to ensure you wouldn't have to lift a finger tonight, a last ditch effort to persuade you to hold your tongue. So much for that plan.

"We're sorry…" Beel said quietly once all of you had gone back inside. All the satisfaction from eating your cooking had faded away after seeing you emerge from the kitchen completely wiped out. He didn't need his Sin to tell you hadn't eaten anything all night.

"No you're not." The words came out before you could stop yourself. You were more tired than you thought, and your brain-to-mouth filter just wasn't working anymore. "If you were, you'd do better. All of you. But I guess that was too much to ask for."

The atmosphere around the brothers was heavy with shame and guilt. They really screwed up, didn't they? Asmo attempted to steer you towards your room. "Why don't you go and rest while we clean up—"

"The dishes are already done. The little D's took care of that—"

"How about some cup noodles then?" Mammon suggested loudly. "C'mon, ya must be hungry—"

"I'm not feeling like instant food at the moment—"

The doorbell rang all of a sudden, freezing everybody in place. No one dared to move for fear of finding Diavolo on the other side, as unlikely as that was. But there was only one way to find out who was calling on them at this hour.

"Yo," Vorgo greeted you with a lazy salute when you opened the door. "Hope this isn't a bad time. Is the coast clear?"

"You're good. Lord Diavolo already left." Just the sight of your friend was enough to lift your spirits, and you found yourself smiling at them easily. "What's up?"

"Special delivery." The lesser demon held up several containers of food. "Figured you'd be run ragged tonight, so I thought you could use a pick-me-up. I made that casserole you like, plus a few other things—"

"I love you," you blurted out before slapping a hand over your mouth.

Vorgo looked a little taken aback but recovered quickly with a laugh and flushed cheeks. "You're most welcome! Get some rest and I'll see you in class, okay?"

The smell of warm, homemade food was making your empty stomach roar loud enough to rival Beel, but you were past caring at this point. You bid Vorgo farewell and prepared to retreat to your room for some well-earned downtime.

"…Why didn't you say anything to Diavolo, or Barbatos for that matter?" Satan asked just as you were about to ascend the stairs. They hadn't mentioned a word about your treatment before they departed, seemingly none the wiser about how much you had suffered under the brothers' care. "You would have gotten everything you deserved, and yet…"

"I didn't think they'd care, to be honest," you shrugged. They were royalty after all, while you were just some human, and the brothers' behavior could easily be written off as demons being demons. "Even if they did, they probably wouldn't believe me."

Nobody told you Diavolo was a walking lie detector. Even if you had decided to spare them, he would have found out eventually, and then you would come to realize just how much he truly valued your well-being in his kingdom.

Lucifer sighed once you had left. "Belphie, make sure—"

"Deep sleep, no dreams. I got it."

"Levi—"

"I've got manga to catch up on so you won't hear a peep from my room."

Beel offered to make you breakfast the next morning, and Asmo whipped out his D.D.D. to book you an appointment for a manicure. Goodness knows you could use one after putting your hands through the wringer tonight.

Mammon was preparing a list of groceries to stock up in the kitchen while Satan volunteered to cover your lesson notes and homework for the next few days.

"Of course, that goes without question." Lucifer nodded when Satan gave him a pointed look. He would personally ensure that you had the rest of the week off from RAD. After your performance tonight, he doubted Diavolo would object to the idea.

[the-kr8tor]

hiii katy. i am officially obsessed with cowboy!hobie and i'm pretty sure i've read everything anyone has ever wrote about him at this point. so here i am asking for more. i have no thoughts - brain empty- but him using his lasso... so maybe? pretty please?

(hope you're having a magnificent day/night <3)

I'm glad you like cowboy! Hobie!! Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! reader

Word count: 1.5k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cowboy au, wild west au, cw suggestive, cw food mentions, cw blood and injury. FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The smoke from the campfire signals life from just under the cliff edge facing the raging rapids. Pink and orange hues illuminate the vast dusty plains of the west, tumbleweeds pass by with the blowing winds; and the quiet prevails with no one else but Hobie, his trusted horse, and hopefully you waiting under the belching grey smoke.

He fixes his hat on top of his head, piercings glimmering as he smirks triumphantly. Your cat and mouse chase has finally come to an end, all the running and hiding comes to a close when he spots your seated form next to the campfire. The fiery embers illuminate your features, shadows dancing on your pretty face, eyes shining under the destructive fire.

“I was waiting for you.” You flick your eyes over to his form, lips curling into an amused smile. “Your meal's getting cold.”

Hobie chuckles under his breath, the reins under his gloved hand tightens in his hold. “What's for supper?” His horse huffs, hoof kicking dirt and dust.

“Rabbit, specially caught for you. And some beans to remind you of your old country.” You stand up, dusting your pants.

He sucks in his teeth, eyes glancing over to the river nearby. “I don't miss the old country that much.” When his green eyes return over to you, you're sitting on your horse, grinning from ear to ear. His hands slowly reach for his lasso.

“Oh I'm sure you miss something.” You send him a flirty wink. “Me perhaps? Don't pretend you don't like the chase, Hobie.” Your horse neighs in agreement.

He smiles, a ghost of amusement flickering from his jade eyes. “You've had me runnin’ after you for about four months now, love. Sorry for not playin’ along today, just a bit tired is all.” He clicks his tongue to make his horse step closer to yours. His hand wraps around his lasso on his belt.

“Oh poor bounty hunter.” You coo sweetly.

“You know what happens next. You have to come with me, love.”

You feign a tired sigh, your grin says otherwise. “If you tried your luck tonight we would've done just that. Well, after dinner of course, I'm a romantic, you see.”

“I would have said yes but your three grand bounty makes me think twice.” Hobie tamps down a laugh, heat prickling his cheeks. He has found that you've had that effect on him. “You know me, job comes first.”

“That's too bad. Maybe on our next date then!” Rearing your horse, you make her kick the boiling pot, spilling its hot contents and the heated coal all over the ground, startling his poor horse. You leave him in the dust once again.

Hobie bites his lower lip to stop an excited guffaw from escaping. He follows quickly, right after he briefly calms his startled horse.

Wind nips at his cheeks as he jumps over broken down trees, dodges rocks and cliffs, and soon after, he sees your form in the distance. With victory already in his grasp, he takes his lasso, swinging it expertly over his head. Calculating his throw, he aims, lasso flying over head.

“Wha–!” The rope cinches around your torso, wrapping you in its rough hemp, making you fall off your horse harshly on the dusty ground. “Fuck! That hurt, Hobie!” Head throbbing, you hear footsteps running frantically towards you. Instead of meeting with the end of a pistol, you feel his warm hands gently hold you. “Ow. Was that necessary? I thought we had something going on, cowboy.”

Hobie takes his gloves off to examine your bleeding forehead. There's a cut just above your brow, but other than that, you're alright. He sighs in relief, hands still carefully holding you in place. If not for his lasso around you, you'd think your handsome bounty hunter actually cares for you.

“Sure, I'm alright, Hobie, nothing to be worried about.” You sarcastically say, one eye closed as blood ebbs from your cut down to your eyelids. “I just hit my head, no biggie—!” The second you meet with his worried eyes, you clamp down. Hands suddenly clammy, mouth turning dry, and stomach doing somersaults, you haven't seen him this close to you. His eyes are greener than anything you've ever seen, pools of the greenest of clovers; and face chiseled to perfection. He looks wonderous in this light. And surprisingly, he looks like he actually cares. “Shit.” You say under your breath, flirty exterior crumbling around his boots. Your voice wakes Hobie up from his lovestruck gaze.

He clears his throat, palms now hovering above your arms. “You look alright.”

Light lines up with his head, an orange halo appears, bathing him in its glow. “I think I have a concussion.” You swallow down your sudden bashfulness.

His brows furrowed, hand tentatively reaching for your chin to carefully check you again. “Does your head hurt?” His voice is soft, and his hand is warm and softer than you thought despite his callouses. You think it all adds to the mystery of the famous bounty hunter right in front of you.

His touch alone almost made you want to surrender. Almost.

You flutter your lashes, “do all the men back in England look just as good as you?”

Hobie lets out a chuckle. A simple act that has the butterflies in your stomach fly wildly. “Just a handful of us.”

“I'm lucky then.”

Hobie squeezes your chin, for a moment, a comfortable silence hangs in the air. You could sit there forever and just look at him. He feels the same way with his fingers brushing along your bottom lip. The river behind continues to flow, water crashing loudly against the rocky river beds just a jump away from the cliff behind you.

Suddenly, his horse neighs behind him. Popping the bubble of affection around the two of you. Hobie clears his throat, and you look away, flustered. He takes his hand off your chin to help you off your feet wordlessly. Tying the lasso around you, he keeps his hands to himself, or tries to as you watch him with your eyes that are practically shaped like hearts. A trait that is unheard of from a feared outlaw like yourself.

“I have to bring you in.” He sounds like he's trying to convince himself.

Arms bound to your sides, you tilt your head to meet with his downturned eyes. “D’you have to, hm, cowboy?”

Hobie straightens up, lifting your head up with his thumb pressing under your chin. He leans close, stealing the breath from your lungs. “I'm not a lawman. So I don't have to.”

You smile sweetly, “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

Hobie chuckles deeply. “But three grand is enticin’.”

“More enticing than me?”

Hobie inhales sharply, as if he's trying to restrain himself. From doing what? You suppose you have to find out.

He makes a move to walk away to grab your horse, but you stop him with your hands grabbing at his belt buckle, fingers wrapped around the cold metal as you yank him closer to you. Your arms might be bound, but your hands remain free to your sides.

“Why don't you answer my question, cowboy?”

Hobie's eyes flick over to your hand, heart thudding loudly in his chest as he bracelets his fingers around your wrist. His thumb brushes along your pulse point, feeling your heart sync with his own.

“Because you'd love my answer to that, love. But my debts won't.”

Leaning close, you reach his lips with your own floating dangerously close above it. Briefly, you both stand there, indulging in each other's presence. Feeling like you two are the only people left in the whole world. A life with you flashes in the back of his mind. And your vision fills with only him.

With pursed lips, you slowly let go of his belt buckle. One finger at a time. “Okay then.”

Hobie feels like you've stolen his heart right there and then. Fitting well with an outlaw. Hell, he'd even let you keep it since your heart is in his grasp too.

“‘Okay?’”

You shrug, backing away. “Yeah, okay.”

“Just like that?” His fingers linger on your skin for a second. You're a mystery to him, a mystery he'd like to get to know better.

“Mm-hmm, just like that.”

Hobie blinks, shaking off his doubts. “Stay there.”

“Yep, staying right here, cowboy. Not going anywhere.”

With him walking off towards your horse to hitch it with his own, you waste no time to run off towards the edge of the cliff.

“Shit!” Hobie scrambles to get to you as you jump off. His fingers graze the ropes, and you even have the audacity to wink at him as you plunge down towards the cold water. He yells after you, watching the water with his quickening heartbeat, waiting for you to resurface. “Fuck!” Starting to take off his hat and jacket, he prepares to jump after you. “Hold on!”

Before he could dive, he sees you waving at him as the currents carry you downstream. He sighs in relief, muscles relaxing, chuckling to himself.

“See you later, cowboy!” You yell at him, floating down like you're having the time of your life. Blowing a kiss at him, your eyes stayed on him whilst he watched you go until he's barely a dot in your vision.

He hears your horse gallop away, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. His horse nudges him with his snout, huffing and puffing at him. You've won once again.

“See you later, love.”

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Nine

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 21.8k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Dana here! Hope you all had a lovely summer, and are excited for the autumn months. Welcome to Chapter Nine! A fairly fluffy update, I hope you all enjoy. Just a bit of spookiness at the end, and a fair bit of witchiness going on on in this chapter. As always, I love to hear your thoughts and feedback, and thank you for reading Trouvaille! Stay tuned for the October Samhain update ;)

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“Y/N! Right on time, dear, come on in,” Judy exclaimed as soon as the rattling witch bells on the door to her shop clattered against the glass with Y/N’s arrival. 

The shop was hazy, filled with syrupy palo santo smoke, and the CD player was already pulsing hypnotic Enya through the speakers. Eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, Y/N headed towards the back of the shop while dodging the crowded tables of inventory, where Judy was poking her frizzy head of hair out from behind the beaded curtains to the reading rooms. Y/N deposited her tote bag and lunch on the counter behind the register, hurrying after Judy who had disappeared into the recesses of the reading rooms. 

“Good morning, Judy, how have you been?” Y/N cheerily greeted the older woman, who was sorting through a large piece of furniture with many drawers in the smallest room closest to the back of the building. The darkened room was filled with candlelight, at least thirty different potted plants, a low table littered with crystals and two round cushions to sit on. 

“Just fine, just fine…” Judy replied distractedly, Y/N unsure as to what she should be doing. She didn’t even know when the shop was going to be open for business, let alone what her responsibilities for the day were yet. Judy made a noise of triumph, locating something she was fishing around for in a deep drawer with a grin on her sun-weathered face. “So, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, but every time I hire someone new, I like to do a little reading on them beforehand. Think of it as a free psychic check-in.”

Judy lithely positioned herself on one of the cushions, using one hand to gesture towards the free seat across from her, a deck of cards in the other. Card reading, Y/N thought– that’s what started the last disaster for her, and it had her stomach roiling with acid. It wasn’t like she could decline, however, so Y/N nodded politely, sinking into the lumpy cushion on the floor and twiddled her thumbs as Judy lit up yet another stick of palo santo to burn. 

Twitching with nerves, Y/N observed Judy shuffle her ancient looking Tarot cards overhand, mentally demanding the clusters of clear quartz and amethyst on the table to protect her from a janky reading. 

“How’s your mom? Haven’t seen her in a few weeks,” Judy asked conversationally, a couple of cards flying out of her grip and floating onto the table face-down. 

“Oh, she’s well. Very busy with the book club lately, and when she isn’t busy with that, she’s been into oil painting recently,” Y/N blinked, wondering if the reading would be about family matters. 

“Did she ever tell you about that reading we did for you last year?” Judy paused her shuffling, selecting a card carefully from the back as if it was on fire and placing it on the table, once again face-down. 

Grimacing, Y/N shook her head. Y/N didn’t usually feel comfortable doing readings about other people when they weren’t aware of it, but her mother held no such opinion. In fact, for most of her life Y/N’s mother performed all kinds of readings for Y/N; career, love, success… Judy often helped out, since she was a more practiced card reader. Y/N assumed that her mother had finally listened to her and stopped going behind her back, as she had stopped telling her about readings a little over a year ago, but apparently she had been mistaken. 

Judy was quiet for a few moments, selecting a few more cards seemingly at random, until there was a grand total of ten of them in front of her on the table, Judy finally sparing Y/N a kind, but mysterious smile. 

“I know you’re not fond of her snooping around with the cards, she hasn’t been doing it lately, I assure you. Last August was the most recent reading we did for you. It was a love reading,” Judy informed her, brushing a curly lock of hair from her face. Grimace deepening, Y/N internally groaned– was it that depressing that her mom finally gave up on trying to find her someone to date?

“Oh… It’s probably best if I don't hear anything about it. My dating life is drier than the Sonoran Desert, especially over this past year,” Y/N chuckled weakly, Judy nodding in understandment. 

“That’s quite alright, dear… relax, Y/N, this is just a basic reading,” Judy soothed, beginning to turn over the cards. They weren’t traditional Tarot, so Y/N was unable to cheat and read them herself, but the images on the cards were spellbinding and radiated a primordial energy. 

Y/N focused on the Enya track playing from the front of the store, Judy staring at the cards and occasionally shutting her eyes as she read them. Judy had a very careful poker face, from years of practice and carrying out readings, so Y/N wasn’t able to glean anything from the psychic’s expression. 

“There’s been a lot of change for you recently. Most of it good change,” Judy spoke at last, as Y/N began to fiddle with one of the quartz points on the table. “Definite conflict. Something uncomfortable happened on the full moon. There are many strong personalities around you right now, complicated people.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Y/N’s breath whooshed out as she agreed, trying not to think about the ‘uncomfortable’ full moon event. 

“This reading matches up with the one from last year. Seven different male energies. Two of them I met last week,” Judy murmured carefully, Y/N’s eyes going owlishly wide. Clearly, she was referring to Namjoon and Jeongguk, during their outing for ice cream and the music shop.

“I thought you said that reading was a love reading? I adopted seven male hybrids about a week ago,” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Never in the history of ever did she have seven men after her affection at once, especially a year ago, and her hybrids were companions, not her lovers. 

Judy stared at her expectantly, brushing her fingertips over a couple of the cards. She pointed to two cards with confidence. 

“Here, The Green Man and The Stag. They were with you that day, the latter bought those lovely red candles,” Judy tapped on the cards as she spoke, Y/N’s curiosity climbing with every word she spoke. “These men have been in your orbit for over a year. For whatever reason, the eight of you are all connected… I haven’t seen anything like this in a long time. Each of you is represented by a Major Arcana archetype.”

“You’re saying these adoptions I’ve made have been a year in the making?” Y/N whispered in bewilderment, thinking back to when she had broken the news of the adoptions to her mother. Now that she had this new insight, her mother’s reaction did seem a bit rehearsed– had she known about it all this time?

“I think it’s no coincidence that the cards are the same as they were back then. The energies are all the same, masculine, wild… a few of them darker, mysterious, others troubled, sad… Like I said, you are surrounded by complicated people. Or hybrids, as we now understand it,” Judy studied the cards, Y/N leaning over to take a better look at them herself. 

The Seer, the most feminine card– was her, undoubtedly. The faint energy of the card she could detect felt familiar to her, like peering into a glassy lake and spotting her reflection. There was The Shaman, The Archer, The Hooded Man, The Guardian, and The Woodward, apart from the other two Judy had mentioned– The Green Man and The Stag. She could hardly guess who was who besides Namjoon and Jeongguk, as she was unfamiliar with that Tarot deck and she hadn’t practiced energy work in years; she hadn’t even attempted to get a good energy reading on herself lately, let alone any of her hybrids. 

“I still don’t understand why it came up as a love reading last year. I hadn’t even met any of them yet, romance… that’s just–” Y/N began, rapidly shaking her head. 

Sure, her hybrids were kind, affectionate, handsome, and she cared for them deeply already, but considering a romantic relationship with any of them was something she usually shut down within two seconds. She was more focused on getting to know them, establishing solid friendships, getting them involved with fun clubs and activities they enjoyed, and helping them work through some of their tricky pasts. Still, it was increasingly harder to deny that she wasn’t falling for a handful, if not all of them lately, and her attempts to push away the possibility of romance blooming between her and any of the hybrids had become harder and harder. 

“I haven’t seen something like this in a long time,” Judy repeated lightly, a strange look on her face. “It’s almost like you’re soulmates…”

“How can one person possibly have seven soulmates,” Y/N started laughing in utter disbelief, praying the floor would open up and suck her into the pits of hell. Accepting this job was a terrible idea, now she was consumed with all kinds of inappropriate thoughts. 

“Besides that, Y/N, there’s another element. You’ll be stepping into a period in your life where the spiritual realm is more important to you and your path than ever. Here, take this,” Judy offered her the guide book for the deck she was using, Y/N accepting it like it was a live pipe bomb. “Take a picture of this spread with your phone, and look it over later. You may find it enlightening.”

As Y/N did as she was told, Judy merrily carried on after the picture was taken and put the cards away, stubbing out the palo santo and standing. Y/N didn’t quite know how to process what she’d been told, but Judy acted like she had just read off of a phone book, leading her back out into the main shop and showing her the basics of operating the 1950’s register. Judy explained that she only had two readings that morning, then she’d have to pop out for the rest of the day to go to a crystal auction, so Y/N would have to lock up at 4PM. Her day seemed straightforward, simply ringing up any merchandise sales and answering basic questions (she had studied the packet of wares a bit before bed the past two nights, so at least she was prepared). Judy told her to expect it to be slow for a Monday, and encouraged her to get any reading done. Thankfully, she brought a random hybrid guidebook with her, so she was excited to get cracking on that. 

Y/N was in her head a little bit for most of the morning; nobody came in to buy anything and only the scheduled reading appointments showed up, so Y/N was able to busy herself with plucking items off the shelves for the wards she’d place around the property the following week, as well as things she’d need for the banishment if it came to it. She also found a beautiful deck of Tarot cards, printed with earth tones and woodland creatures, thinking it might be a nice gift for Namjoon for his birthday, and was able to check herself out and move onto scrolling on her phone for a bit after Judy departed for the crystal auction.

Trying to put the card reading out of her mind, she decided to put all of her attention on tying up loose ends from her to-do list; starting with looking for clubs for the hybrids to join, preferably while she was at work. At the local rec center near her house, she found basketball, track, and swimming teams, fine arts, pottery and photography classes, even film and music clubs, all hybrid specific. There were a few other tabs she brought up; how to establish a paranormal investigation group, horse riding and boarding for beginners, and junkyards near me. 

She had her first customer after lunch, which turned out to be a delicious Japanese-style egg salad sandwich, some chips in a plastic Ziploc bag, a string cheese, and a tangerine with a mini bottle of water, and she made sure to text Yoongi and thank him again– a selfie attached with a segment of tangerine between her fingertips. 

Directing the customer to a shelf full of herbs that can be scooped by the store patrons themselves, pointing out where the mugwort was, Y/N hummed, feeling somewhat at home in the metaphysical shop, even after the mind-boggling reading she received from her new boss. Knowing that it would be a few days before she could delve deeper into the meaning of the reading, likely after Jeongguk’s birthday and in between her next piano lesson with Yoongi, Y/N pushed it into the further recesses of her mind. There was simply no space to entertain romance, as tempting as it was, at this point– that’s what she told herself, as she dove into the first chapter of Kodiak Bear Hybrids for Dummies.

 The next few days were relatively mundane; Y/N had picked Namjoon and Seokjin up from the book club Monday evening with $195 worth of Greek food in her trunk, each of them sporting little smiles and beat-up copies of The Stranger. The weather was stormy on Tuesday and was made up of her practicing Twinkle Twinkle in the music room and reading in the parlor with the hybrids while they watched mindless superhero movies, before she returned to another slow day at work the next morning.

From there, Wednesday had her presenting the teams, classes, and clubs she had amassed in a big spreadsheet to the hybrids, which she printed and stuck to the fridge, telling them to think about it and mark down anything they’d be interested in. Come Thursday, Jeongguk’s birthday, nothing had been marked up at all, simultaneously dampening her spirits but also frustrating her with how stubborn her hybrids could be. For Christ’s sake, the activities were free, so long as they resided in the area with their adopted guardian, which had them covered. Y/N wasn’t going to let it get her down though– Judy had let her go at 3PM to prepare for Jeongguk’s birthday dinner, which had her practically vibrating as she arrived home and kicked off her shoes. 

She planned to make the rice bowls that he had enjoyed so much closer to when she first adopted him, all of the prep already done with a little proactive measures she had taken in the weepingly early hours of the morning. Y/N hadn’t seen very much of Jeongguk in the past few days; true to his word he had been ‘gory as hell’ with his velvet shedding, and kept mostly to his room to contain the mess of the blood and flesh from getting all over the house. 

“You want me to make some tamagoyaki to go with this?” Yoongi began picking up chopsticks she’d placed by a bowl of eggs, appearing out of thin air with his ears perked up in her direction. These days, Yoongi was her constant companion, making her lunch to take to work, presenting her with her coffee in the morning, and was clinging like glue, not to mention. 

The leopard hybrid always materialized into the kitchen prior to dinner, and Y/N didn’t know whether or not it was an unspoken game to see who could make dinner first, but she didn’t complain. Especially when they often shared a wine glass, and he’d constantly put a hand on her lower back when navigating around the kitchen. 

“Please, do. It was so good the last time,” Y/N encouraged, scraping her stir-fried veggies into a dish to be microwaved later. Yoongi nodded while rolling up the sleeves of his satiny black button down, getting to work. So far, it seemed like Seokjin and Namjoon had kept their promise of keeping the secret of Jeongguk’s birthday under wraps. 

“So, what’s the occasion?” Yoongi commented while pouring beaten egg into the rectangle pan, his spotted tail winding around her thigh as she worked on the steak at the stove. “You seem more spirited than usual.”

“Hmm. Pass the glass,” Y/N covered the pan she was working on, an obscene amount of steak resting within. She had made more than enough rice for 20 people, trying to ensure Jeongguk had a pleasant birthday celebration with plenty of food. She’d even stopped on the way home from work for a rather large order of pork dumplings that were crispening up in the air fryer as an extra treat. After a beat, Yoongi handed over their shared glass of pinot grigio, skillfully rolling up a batch of tamagoyaki. “It’s Jeongguk’s birthday, I’m throwing him a little party between all of us.”

She whispered the latter part of her statement directly into Yoongi’s human set of ears, hoping that the elk hybrid stowed away in his room couldn’t hear. Yoongi, freezing for a moment before breaking out into laughter at her serious expression, placed his roll of tamagoyaki on a plate before beginning another helping of it. 

“No shit. You’re full of surprises, sweetheart,” Yoongi managed over his chortling, Y/N rolling her eyes and leaving the leopard hybrid by the stove. 

She didn’t go all out, no balloons, streamers or banners; but Y/N had her wrapped gifts for Jeongguk clumped together on the coffee bar, which she had stashed in the back of her car for two days and wrapped at work during her lunch break. She kept it simple; just his cheesecake, which was getting room temperature in the hardly used dining room and out of sight to bring out at the last moment (complete with candles), the gifts, and the meal she noted he enjoyed the most since she met the elk hybrid. Y/N had gone as far as picking up a small, foiled order of the baked ziti from Sal’s on the way home for Jeongguk along with the dumplings, the little boat already warming up in one of the ovens for him. 

She felt like it was time, Yoongi had finished the tamagoyaki, and everything was practically in place. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin were in the parlor watching Indiana Jones, and the remaining three hybrids were in their bedrooms, so all Y/N had to do was stand in the foyer and slightly raise her voice to call everyone to the kitchen. Despite Jeongguk’s graphic goriness with his velvet shedding, even making Y/N shudder with the blood, torn ligament, and loose flesh hanging from his antlers, the elk hybrid always appeared for dinner, and she was feeling giddy. 

“Smells good! You two have worked hard, as always,” Hoseok commented while his slides slapped noisily against the tiled floor, strolling in from the entrance from the parlor, Seokjin and Jimin close behind. If anything, her hybrids loved to eat. 

In the spirit of celebrating birthdays, Y/N popped open two chilled bottles of champagne to divide into eight glasses, smirking at the surprised sounds of the various hybrids coagulating in the kitchen and finding random seats. No one ever sat in the same spot, which was something she really found interesting. 

Taehyung and Namjoon made their appearances at the same time, both of them with poorly masked disdain for one another painted across their faces, but Y/N refused to have her mood be dampened. The week was going by smoothly, the hybrids were adjusting, and she was focused on surprising Jeongguk. He was, after all, the last to enter the room. 

While waiting for the elk hybrid, and listening to Seokjin trying to stave off some of the other hybrids from digging into the food before everyone was present, Y/N snuck into the dining room and brought the cheesecake out onto the island with a smug grin. Everything was set once she put the gifts around the cake, slightly ignoring some of the confused noises coming from Hoseok at the breakfast nook. 

“Is it a holiday?” Hoseok finally vocalized, round cocoa eyes zeroing in on the cake and gift bags on the counter. At the same time, Y/N heard the heavy, stomping tread thundering down the main staircase, indicating Jeongguk’s arrival to the kitchen at any second. She shook her head, absently rummaging for matches in the drawer by the cake to light the candles after dinner. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Jeongguk appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, his smoky voice agitated and suspicious, and a thick trail of blood smeared against his cheek– his antlers a crown of gore. Startled, Y/N felt the matchbook slip from her fingers and clatter to the granite countertop, taken off guard by his blood staining his face and cream colored tee shirt, his expression stormy and guarded.

“Oh! Uh…” suddenly at a loss for words, Y/N felt seven pairs of eyes on her pausing for her explanation as to why they were indulging in cheesecake and champagne on a random Thursday evening. There wasn’t much to say other than the obvious, even if it somehow felt odd now that she was meeting Jeongguk’s wary gaze. “It’s your birthday Jeongguk, I thought we should celebrate!”

Aside from Yoongi’s muted amused snickers from the sink, where he was soaking pans, no one spoke, apparently waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Jeongguk to react. The elk hybrid appeared frozen in time, staring at Y/N with the intensity of one thousand suns, a shred of velvet unceremoniously shedding from a bony and bloodied antler and promptly landing on his shoulder. The timing would have made her laugh, had she not been so distracted by how perturbed Jeongguk looked. 

“Seriously? How old are you today, elk? 23?” Hoseok finally broke the silence with impatience underlying the questions, eyeing a champagne flute from his spot on an island barstool with impatience. 

“I–” Jeongguk coughed thickly, eyes tearing from Y/N’s face to stare at the wrapped gifts on the counter, his face draining of color. “What…?”

“He’s 25 today, Hoseok,” Y/N replied offhand, not only too busy watching Jeongguk go from bristly to flabbergasted, rooted to his spot in the threshold of the kitchen, but also realizing the elk hybrid had surpassed her in age already. Officially, she was the youngest in the house, and the one responsible for everyone within it.

Acting before she could think too much about it, she moved towards Jeongguk, actually able to herd him over to a seat at the island with a hand wrapped around his strong forearm, the elk hybrid apparently too stunned to react to both her touch and the surprise. Promptly, she shoved a flute of champagne into his tattooed fist as his ass hit the barstool before divvying out glasses to everyone else, thankful for the light soft rock playlist she had playing from her portable speaker on the coffee bar to make up for lack of conversation. 

“Okay, who needs rice?” Yoongi either sensed Y/N’s nerves or was voracious himself, wielding a rice paddle and plopping great servings into large cereal bowls, his champagne glass pinched in his other hand delicately as he worked. 

All at once, the tension broke– Jimin, Seokjin and Taehyung had crawled to the island for their rice, and the room was full of dodging one another to stack ingredients into their bowls so they could dig into dinner. When Y/N pulled the enormous helping of dumplings out of the air fryer, it was as if she had handed all of them one million dollars, and before she could even place the baking sheet on the counter, there were less than a dozen dumplings left. She was thankful that ever since Taehyung and Namjoon’s fight, it seemed that whatever tense or awkward situation would dissolve soon after it cropped up– but Y/N was still observing Jeongguk out of the corner of her eye, robotically filling his bowl of rice with steak and vegetables with the faintest blush dancing across his high cheekbones. 

“Happy birthday Jeongguk,” Y/N repeated, planting herself in the barstool beside him once she had elbowed Hoseok away from the oven, the hot foiled dish of ziti in her mitted hand sliding across the island as she placed it beside the elk hybrid.

Jeongguk paused, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth with a clump of rice and half of a dumpling, eyeing both her and the little covered tray she offered sideways. At least he wasn’t violently angry that she had surprised him with a party, she concluded. 

“What’s this?” Jeongguk muttered gruffly, using his nose to jerk towards the foil. 

Behind her, she could hear Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jimin talking about films they had watched together that week at the breakfast nook while Namjoon listened quietly beside them, as well as registering some open-mouthed chewing that made her cringe. Taehyung was on her other side, silent of course, and Hoseok decided to cut his losses and sit beside the Kodiak hybrid– though, Hoseok seemed quite content with pouring himself a second glass of champagne and occasionally shouting over his shoulder to join in on the conversation from the breakfast nook. 

“Can’t you tell with those senses of yours?” Y/N teased, Jeongguk rolling his eyes as he chewed. “Sal’s ziti. I picked some up for you after work– your birthday only comes once a year, after all!” 

Jeongguk must have known what it was, but he still appeared taken aback, ignoring the inferno-hot temperature of the foil as he reached over to peel it back and examine the ziti. His face became unreadable, lip ring pulled between his teeth as he jabbed a noodle with his chopsticks. 

“Why?” Jeongguk questioned softly, the raspiness of his voice still audible over the Steely Dan song that was pulsing over the speaker, even if she had to lean closer to hear him. His question puzzled her. 

“What do you mean, ‘why’? It’s your birthday, Jeongguk,” Y/N replied equally softly, trying not to dissolve into sand when her eyes locked with his own inky stare. “I noticed how much you liked it at the cookout, so consider it a birthday gift from Sal’s family. Save room for dessert though, there’s still cake.”

With her last statement, she nodded towards the cheesecake that was sitting a few feet away from him, Jeongguk looking like he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind as he looked from her, the cake, the wrapped gifts obviously for him, and the meal he was currently enjoying.

“Y/N,” Hoseok snatched her attention for a moment, the fox hybrid leaning over Taehyung with the champagne bottle, topping her glass off and lifting an eyebrow at the Kodiak hybrid leaning back in his barstool to put space between them. “That chart you put up on the fridge, with the clubs. Can you tell me more about some of them?”

She clinked glasses with Hoseok as he smirked at her, pleased that he’d actually brought it up. Hoseok was definitely the most extroverted and outgoing hybrid she had adopted, while the rest of them were a bit more on the reserved side. It was one of the many reasons she and Hoseok got along so well– he was often the one to engage her in sarcastic banter, shriek at the TV at the same time she did, and initiate drinking games or conversations during mealtimes– their personalities were pretty similar. 

“Yeah, sure! Any ones you were interested in, particularly, honey?” Y/N took a sip of her champagne, the fruity bubbles popping and peppering her upper lip with moisture. 

“The sports teams,” Hoseok replied simply, Y/N noting that Hoseok was acting like there was nothing but air between him and her, Taehyung all but an apparition as he glued himself to the back of his barstool and nursed his own glass of champagne while he soaked in the conversation. 

“Thought that would be your answer,” Y/N chuckled, stirring some rice around in her bowl with an easy smile. “Well, all their teams run year-round, but they’re broken up seasonally so you get week-long breaks between each season. I read on the rec website that they’ll move teams indoors during the fall/winter seasons, the basketball and track teams, I believe. There’s also a swimming team… if you pick one, they provide the athletic wear or swimsuits, and practices are four times a week, games or tournaments every couple of weeks depending on the sport you choose.”

Hoseok munched on a crispy bit of pork dumpling in deep contemplation, Y/N almost able to see the wheels turning in his head as he processed her words. Suddenly, he leaned backwards in his barstool, craning his neck towards the breakfast nook to catch the attention of some of the hybrids seated there. 

“Hey. Jimin, Jin? What do you think, should we join a team? How about the swimming team– Jinnie, you have the shoulders for it,” Hoseok mused, Seokjin spitting out a bit of champagne on the floor as a look of pure horror and dread crossed over his fine features. 

“N-no!” Seokjin gasped, almost appearing as if he was petrified that Hoseok would even ask him something so outrageous. “Please, no–”

“Jesus, Jin, okay, just say you don’t want to wear a speedo next time,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, his signature whistle tone following the jab. 

Y/N, however, found Seokjin’s response to Hoseok’s offer completely out of character for the jaguar hybrid. He looked genuinely disturbed and frightened over the mere suggestion of swimming, his complexion on the side of green, his hands visibly shaking as he clutched his chopsticks with whitened knuckles. 

“Sorry, Hoseok. I think I’ll be busy working on the stable, for now. Maybe in the spring I’ll take up a sport with you,” Jimin added to Hoseok’s disappointment, the fox hybrid’s ears drooping a little in response. 

“Whatever, you guys are boring. I was leaning more towards the track team, anyways…” Hoseok brightened up after a beat, once again letting things roll right off of his shoulders. “Is it alright if I sign up for that, Y/N?”

“Of course it is! Whatever you guys want to sign up for is totally fine with me,” Y/N blushed, feeling a little odd about her role in the household once more. She wasn’t used to people asking for her permission to do things they wanted to do with their lives. 

“What a shame, Foxy. I was thinking about joining the basketball team,” Yoongi vocalized from his spot beside a still queasy looking Seokjin, a lazy smirk curling his pouty lips up into the apple of his cheek. 

“You play basketball, Yoongi?” Y/N asked, turning her body to gawk at the leopard hybrid with surprise. She would have bet a large sum of money that Yoongi would have been interested in the music club over sports, but then again– she learned something new about each hybrid every second she spent with them. 

“Yeah, you know that outdoor court over in Chinatown? There was a kind-of team of a few guys I knew by the bar I worked at, I played with them whenever I was off the clock. Which wasn’t very often,” Yoongi responded, his hazel irises glittering in the low light of the kitchen as he met her eyes. 

“Oh yeah, Reggie Wong Memorial Park? God, I used to walk by there all the time in college…” Y/N murmured mostly to herself, that nagging feeling that was more frequently popping up that she must have seen Yoongi around before. Boston was a small city, and the fact that he hung around in an area that happened to be within her old college stomping grounds seemed like no coincidence to her.

Hoseok began to bicker with Yoongi from across the room, the fox hybrid apparently not a fan of basketball and attempting to convince Yoongi to join the track team with him. Giggling, Y/N turned her body back to her meal, but her attention was snagged once more by Taehyung, who tugged lightly at the sleeve of her blouse. 

“Mm? What’s that, Tae?” Y/N shifted closer to the Kodiak hybrid, unable to hear his quiet voice over the banter from behind her and the music still playing from the speaker. 

“Photography? Was that one of the clubs?” Taehyung repeated into her ear, some of his curls tickling the cartilage making up the shell as his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Taehyung kept mostly to himself since the night of ‘The Incident’ or so she had deemed it, so having him so close and speaking to her directly was something that had her heart speeding up in her chest. 

“It was. Do you want to give it a try?” Y/N cocked her head, searching Taehyung’s face for a crack in his stoicism. It was there, as much as she believed he was trying to mask it from her, but his eyes rounded out in vulnerability as she read his expression and it was his give away. 

Taehyung nodded slightly, biting down on his lip softly as he returned to his dinner, ceasing to say anything more. Deciding to let it go, knowing that Taehyung had opened up before and would again in his own time, she focused on finishing her rice and making a mental note to tackle filling out all of the forms for the clubs each hybrid wanted to join the next day; she’d have to do it promptly so they could participate for the autumn season. 

Y/N was usually the last to finish her meal. The hybrids always ate with such speed she often worried that one of them would wind up choking, and that night was no different. She kept one eye on Jeongguk beside her, who had ended up not only finishing his entire rice bowl but was currently plowing through the last third of the ziti. 

Heaving herself off of her stool, she assisted Hoseok and Taehyung with loading up the dishwasher and wiping down the counters in preparation for serving the cake. Namjoon had managed to sneak his way to the island, taking Y/N’s former seat once Taehyung had got up, surreptitiously glancing at the cake every once in a while with longing. Y/N noticed the wolf hybrid had a bit of a preference for sweets, though she believed he was unaware of how obvious his preference was. She could tell by the way his tail would wag a little faster at the sight of a baked good, his amber eyes becoming just a bit sparklier. It was a trait that softened some of Namjoon’s rougher edges, in her mind. 

“Aw, we’re out of champagne,” Hoseok whined, shaking an empty bottle in one of his fists once he finished wiping down the counter by the sink. Snorting, Y/N shook her head. 

“I have the rest of the case in my car. I’ll go grab it before we have cake,” Y/N reached up to pat Hoseok’s head fondly, her fingertips gliding through his soft mahogany strands. Hoseok shuddered, though an amused smile stretched across his face at the contact. 

“I’ll take care of the rest of the clean up with Taehyung,” Hoseok promised in response, going as far as wiping down the faucet with the rag he was holding. 

“That eager for another glass, huh? Alright, alright, I’ll go now,” Y/N teased, visually sweeping the kitchen for the other hybrid’s glasses– most of the flutes were drained. 

She hadn’t drank all week, herself, and it was officially the start of her long weekend… Y/N figured she might as well get buzzed if they were going to celebrate Jeongguk’s birthday properly. She side-stepped around Taehyung, who was placing pots back in their rightful spots, while she used a hand to soothe down his flannel-clad back with a pleased grumble coming from his chest as she did so. 

Humming along to the Pink Floyd song that had come on, Y/N headed towards the foyer with her car keys swinging around her pointer finger, ready to stick a straw in one of those champagne bottles after the jam-packed week she had. She made it about three steps into the foyer before a hand clasped hers from behind, Y/N startled that she realized exactly who it was without even turning around. Tender grip, interlaced digits, crooked fingers slotting between hers, the scent of eucalyptus. Seokjin. 

“Hi Jin, want to get some fresh air?” Y/N peered up at his gorgeous face, his ears fluttering slightly. Nodding, he let her tug at his hand, pulling him to the front door. 

“You said there was a case of champagne in your car. I thought you might need some help,” Seokjin offered once she led him out to the porch, the sun finally slipping beneath the treeline and the sky a dusky purple. 

“Aw, you know I can lift things, right?” Y/N bumped her hip into Seokjin, even though she was appreciative to have a moment alone with him. She hadn’t really had a chance to spend one-on-one time with the jaguar hybrid in a while, he had been quite enraptured with the book club selection of the week, and she had been busy at work and running around preparing for Jeongguk’s party. Truthfully, she missed the sweet moments she shared with Seokjin. 

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” Seokjin muttered cutely, waiting for her to pop open the trunk to the Land Cruiser. Giggling, she squeezed his hand, his thumb brushing over her wrist bone before she released him, sitting down on the back of her car and gazing up at the sky. She had some nagging questions for Seokjin, and wondered if it would be wise to bring any of them up while she had this moment alone with him, away from the other hybrids. 

“Seokjin,” Y/N uttered softly, feeling the car bounce with his weight once he sat beside her, similarly admiring the twilight sky. He hummed, indicating he was listening, Y/N able to feel his body heat with how close he was to her; their shoulders mere inches away. “How did the book club go on Monday? I’m sorry I haven’t asked until now.”

Distantly, Y/N could still hear music coming from inside of the home, as well as Hoseok’s loud, boisterous laughter, but all she could focus on were the crickets in the grasses of the front yard and the sound of Seokjin’s soft breathing beside her. There was an underlying sound, a sort of muted rumble that came from beside her, making her cheeks flush– she noticed that both Seokjin and Yoongi often purred quietly when in close proximity to her, like overgrown house cats. 

“Oh, don’t be sorry, you’ve been so busy this week,” Seokjin shook his head, scooching a bit closer to her as he spoke so that their thighs touched. “I enjoyed it. I didn’t participate much because I hadn’t read the book they were discussing, but listening to everyone’s thoughts was fun. Your mom was kind though, I didn’t feel out of place like I thought I would. Namjoon… it was interesting, seeing him like that.”

“Namjoon? How so?” Y/N wondered, eyebrows furrowing. 

“He’s insightful, he sort of led the discussion. He’s more quiet and calculating, here, at home,” Seokjin commented, leaning back on his hands. Y/N hummed, trying to conjure up an image of Namjoon engaging in elaborate conversations amongst a group setting– the thought was mystifying.

As always, there was a comfortable lull in conversation between her and the jaguar hybrid; one that felt cozy, like they were sharing a space to soak in surroundings and enjoy each other's quiet presences. Still, there were so many things she wanted to know about Seokjin– while she felt quite close to him already, the jaguar hybrid had yet to offer her any kind of information into his past. Y/N didn’t feel like she was owed personal information from Seokjin, however, she was interested as to why he had been so horrified when Hoseok had brought up the prospect of joining the swim team together. 

“Hey, Seokjin… can I ask you something?” Y/N lowered her voice, wanting the conversation to be as private as she could make it, considering Seokjin was certainly one of the more shy hybrids.

“Sure,” Seokjin replied after a moment, likely sensing her hesitancy. Y/N could feel the sleek, silky black fur of his tail curling around the bare skin of her lower back under her crop top, and the weight of his fiery eyes studying her profile analytically. 

“Earlier, I noticed your reaction to Hoseok asking about you joining the swimming club. You looked upset, and I was wondering why…” Y/N fidgeted with her hands in her lap, recalling the day she brought Seokjin home. 

Y/N had offered him her copy of Lord of the Rings the afternoon he had woken up from his fever the day she met him, and she could still picture his heartbroken expression in her mind. The last thing she ever wanted to do was upset Seokjin in that way again, but she had long since accepted that in order to establish deeper bonds with her hybrids, she’d have to have difficult conversations and risk touching upon raw nerves. That didn’t mean she enjoyed it, however. As the words left her mouth, she could not only feel the way that Seokjin’s tail had wound around her body tighter, but the way his thigh began to tremble against her’s. He was quiet, so she spoke once more. 

“Are you afraid of water, Seokjin?” Y/N continued gently, fearing that if she spoke louder, the small bubble she found the two of them in would burst and the moment would slip away. 

“N-... not exactly,” Seokjin finally breathed, after what felt like an eternity of silence as they both gazed up at the violet sky. “Not always. When you adopted me, when I was injured… that was a result of an accident, involving water. It’s stupid, but I’ve been wary since.”

Seconds ticked by, Y/N letting his words sink in. It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but it made a lot of sense. On Seokjin’s profile from the hybrid database, it had mentioned he suffered from many phobias, PTSD. He didn’t know that she was aware of this, let alone that she knew a bit about his past in the circus business, but the pieces were coming together for her. 

“It’s not stupid, honey. Everyone has fears, especially after a traumatic brush with one in particular. I just want you to know, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and I’m here for you,” Y/N wrapped her nearest arm around Seokjin’s wide shoulders, attempting to pull his larger body into her side. Seokjin was normally quite pliant with her, so it didn’t take much effort to maneuver him despite his size and mass. 

“I, um… I used to be a performer, before you adopted me. That’s when it happened, a few weeks ago, the accident? I did stunts, acrobatics, for Cirque–”

Seokjin went ramrod straight, flinching away from Y/N as the front door swung open with a great groan five yards away, music, voices, and light flooding into the front yard. Shuddering from the immediate absence of Seokjin’s comforting warmth, Y/N squinted towards the porch, peeved that Seokjin was interrupted as he was about to open up. 

“Did you two get lost? It’s been forever!” Hoseok shouted from the threshold of the door, Y/N able to make out the triangular shape of his ears with the light coming from inside the house, the fox hybrid’s arms crossed over his chest. 

Groaning, Y/N eased herself off of her perch on the trunk, Seokjin already gathering the case of champagne in his arms, the corded muscles flexing as he lifted it out of the car and started towards the house. Shutting the trunk of the car, Y/N trailed after Seokjin closely, a tightness in his back muscles straining against his lavender tee shirt that she knew had little to do with carrying the box held in his arms. Y/N wondered if it would be wise to create a schedule on her phone, so she could allot specific times to spend one on one with each hybrid, or if she was simply salty that Hoseok had interrupted. 

As soon as she hauled herself into the house, Hoseok locked up the front door behind her, the strange three-note whistle he often crooned tickling her ears as she watched Seokjin disappear into the kitchen. Raising her eyebrows at Hoseok, who was grinning down at her like he knew something she didn’t, Y/N reached out to teasingly poke at his tummy, the fox hybrid giggling and nimbly dodging the attack. 

“What’s with that tone you always whistle, Hoseok? Is it your personal trademark, or something?” Y/N attempted to chase Hoseok around the foyer, even though he was far too swift on his feet for her to ever catch him even by the hem of his sweatshirt. 

“Oh, do you not like it?” Hoseok paused, examining the way her chest heaved as she leaned against the banister of the grand staircase, expression playful. However, there was something about the way his smile didn’t completely reach his eyes, making Y/N backtrack. 

“No, that’s not it at all,” Y/N insisted immediately, not wanting to make him feel insecure about a quirk that truthfully endeared him to her. “I like it. If I ever lose you in a grocery store or something, I’ll whistle that same tone until I can find you.”

Cocking his head, Hoseok apparently not expecting that response, Y/N felt her cheeks flush as the fox hybrid looked her up and down, appearing serious for a moment, lost in thought. He opened and closed his mouth, as if to say something clever in response, but the words appeared to die on his tongue as Y/N grinned at him slyly. Finally, chuckling once more while shaking his head, Y/N exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Was that perhaps too forward, or embarrassing? Hoseok rarely found himself at a loss for words around her, so clearly some part of the exchange threw him off guard. 

“Come on, darling, let’s go celebrate your long weekend,” Hoseok used a pointer finger to beckon her towards the entrance of the kitchen, his russet tail swishing as he spun on his heels, whistling his signature three notes once more. “And the elk, or whatever.”

Suddenly remembering that she had been anticipating this exact part of the evening for the past week, Y/N unfroze from her spot by the staircase, speeding past Hoseok with a smirk and bounding into the kitchen. A loud pop came from her right, Y/N managing not to flinch as Yoongi broke into a fresh bottle of the champagne, passing the bottle to Jimin so the coyote hybrid could refill glasses around the room. 

Jeongguk seemed more relaxed now that the shock of the surprise celebration had worn off, leaning his forearms on the granite of the island as he spoke with Namjoon beside him. Y/N found it interesting that those two had managed to become closer over the past week; considering Jeongguk was the one to haul Namjoon away from Taehyung the night of The Incident. She couldn’t deny the similarities between the two– both a tad surly and serious, common interest in paranormal or occult subject matter, and not to mention face-melting glares she had been on the receiving end of on occasion or two. Secretly, she hoped they’d grow even closer as time passed, as it would be nice for each of the hybrids to have at least one other in the house they could bond with besides her. 

Swirling the room-temperature champagne around in her flute, her eyes flickered to Taehyung, who was peering out at the backyard from the slider by himself, and wished with all of her heart that with time, he’d be able to connect with the other hybrids and they’d accept him as well. The Kodiak hybrid seemed so lonely in a room full of people, his lips moving as he mouthed the words to the song on the speaker, staring out at the half-moon in the sky.

Feeling a familiar hand on her lower back, Y/N brightened up, Yoongi stepping around her with a silver pie server, setting it next to the cheesecake and quietly watching Y/N stick candles on top of it. 

“I remember you saying you used to do ‘cleansings’ with a group of paranormal investigators,” Namjoon’s voice came to her attention, addressing Jeongguk over the rim of his champagne flute. 

Trying not to snicker, Y/N pretended she wasn’t listening– Namjoon was doing two things that amused her; asking questions in forms of statements again, and likely beginning to persuade the elk hybrid into helping her and himself with the protective wards the following week. 

“Weren’t you in your room studying when I said that?” Jeongguk asked dryly, pierced brow lifting as he used a crooked finger to swipe blood from his cheekbone distractedly. 

Namjoon ignored the elk hybrid’s comment, his bitten ear twitching with agitation, before setting his champagne flute down and leveling the most friendly look he could muster at the younger hybrid. Coming from beside Y/N as she continued to place candles on the cheesecake, she felt a silky tail smack the back of her thigh lightly, which was Yoongi’s way of non-verbally asking her if she was listening to the peanut gallery in front of her. Glancing at the leopard hybrid from her peripherals, he bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing at her ‘act natural’ telepathic plea, Y/N forgetting to find it odd that she could communicate with Yoongi in this way; without ever uttering a word. 

“Are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to pry?” Namjoon deadpanned, clearly annoyed that he had to actually ask for information from Jeongguk. 

“There’s not much to add. I’ve only been in the Boston area for a little over a year. I was hiding out in some old-ass abandoned church to keep away from agents sweeping strays off the streets, and one night a bunch of fucking nerds with cameras and holy water broke into the church. I was about to beat the shit out of them for waking me up, but they were squealing so much when they saw me that I took pity on them.”

“And?” Namjoon knit his eyebrows together while drawing out the syllables of the word, clearly not hearing what he wanted to quite yet. 

“And what, you nosy fuck? They thought I was some kind of cryptid until I turned the lights on. They were so harmless it was laughable, so I made them tell me what they were up to. I knew a fair bit about what paranormal investigators do, so we talked for a bit. After that, they’d seek me out every few weeks for my thoughts on random occult topics until they scraped up the courage to ask me to go with them on investigations from time to time, mostly when the investigations involved exorcisms or more malevolent entities.”

“Did you guys have a Youtube series or something I can watch later when I want a good laugh?” Hoseok interjected by the fridge, lazily overseeing the conversation as he downed the rest of his champagne. 

“No, dipshit,” Jeongguk grumbled, taking a hearty swig from his own flute and appearing to compose the aggravation off of his face. “I think Mark and Jude, the two camera geeks, had some kind of podcast, but I never participated in that crap. Hopefully the team hasn’t gotten themselves killed in my absence…”

Y/N studied Jeongguk’s face carefully. While delighted that he had willingly shared some details of what he’d been up to prior to his adoption, she didn’t miss the near imperceptible way the corners of his mouth turned downwards when he spoke about the paranormal investigation team, as much as she knew he was trying to make it seem like they were just a bunch of bothersome people from his past. She would bet a fair bit of money that Jeongguk actually missed the team, though there was no doubt he would deny that speculation up and down if she ever mentioned it to him. 

Catching Namjoon asking Jeongguk if they could talk the next day, Jeongguk nodded, lost in his thoughts as the wolf hybrid seemed temporarily satisfied with what he had gotten out of Jeongguk. Y/N sensed Seokjin’s presence again, craning her neck upwards as he offered her a gentle grin, setting a stack of little paper plates down on the counter for the cake. She supposed it was about time to dig into dessert, Namjoon was eyeing the cake again, and Hoseok and Jimin were getting a touch rowdy with the champagne they were putting away like water. 

She struck a match, swiftly lighting the five candles she stuck around the icing script reading Happy 25th Birthday Jeongguk, leaning on her tip-toes to slide the cake in front of the elk hybrid across the island. The flames from the candle had light reflecting off of the silver jewelry threaded through his ears and face, and sharpening his already strong features. Everyone quieted down a bit, Jeongguk reading the top of the cake with the faintest twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 

“Okay, make your wish!” Y/N encouraged once the elk hybrid looked at her for direction, for once not really seeming to mind that he was the center of attention. Namjoon, from beside him, seemed utterly confused with what was going on, as if he had never celebrated a birthday before. 

Jeongguk rolled his eyes before hurriedly blowing out the candles, Y/N clapping with excitement as Yoongi made the first move to pull the candles from the cake and begin to slice it with the pie server.

“What’d you wish for?” Jimin asked from the breakfast nook, sitting in between Taehyung and Seokjin with an easygoing smile. 

“Jimin, don’t you know if he tells you, it might not come true?” Y/N gasped dramatically, pressing a hand over her chest for added theatrics as Hoseok and Yoongi snickered at her antics. Jimin, however, became the picture of apologetic with his ears drooped; until Y/N waved her hand and mouthed I’m joking. 

Yoongi placed the first slice of cheesecake in front of the birthday boy, before Y/N helped him ferry it off to the other hybrids, making sure she dropped the second slice in front of Namjoon before he began drooling. She thought about making an array of desserts for his birthday, since he apparently liked them so much. Once everyone had a slice and a fork in front of them, Y/N sat on Jeongguk’s free side with her own plate, promptly digging into the dessert and watching Yoongi trudge over to the breakfast nook to sit beside Seokjin. 

“Oh, this is good,” Hoseok’s voice came from across the island, hip leaning on the granite as he ate standing up. 

“Thought you didn’t like cheesecake,” Jeongguk accused around a forkful of dessert, the fox hybrid shrugging in response, his sharpened teeth biting down on his lower lip as he stifled a laugh. 

Once dessert was squared away in between Y/N divulging more details about the clubs at the rec center and discussing tentative weekend plans, she nudged the gifts closer to Jeongguk, who quickly became skeptical and wary once the gift bags were in front of his face. 

“Here, open this one first. It’s from my parents, my mom picked it out,” Y/N tapped the little black box closest to his inked elbow while sipping on her champagne, heat pooling in her cheeks as the alcohol began to dizzy up her head. 

She had talked to her mother for a few minutes when she picked Namjoon and Seokjin up from the book club on Monday and mentioned Jeongguk’s birthday in passing. To her surprise, her mother showed up at Judy’s the following Wednesday during her shift with a gift for the elk hybrid, which honestly she should have expected. While her mother and father hadn’t interacted with Jeongguk too much, Y/N secretly peaked at the gift– it was strangely suited to his tastes. 

Yoongi was bickering with Hoseok at the sink, both of them hissing in surprise as Jimin popped open yet another bottle of champagne, his almost childlike giggles making Y/N’s heart squeeze. Jeongguk took up the small black box, examining it like it was going to explode between his fingertips. 

“Y/N, do you mind if I run upstairs and shower? I’ll be back in a little bit,” Seokjin tapped her shoulder, Y/N nodding with a thumbs-up, noting the way Seokjin seemed a little on edge still. Watching the jaguar hybrid go, Hoseok stole her attention next. 

“We’re gonna go figure out what movie to put on,” Hoseok called from the entrance of the kitchen into the parlor, his arm slung around Yoongi’s elegant shoulders as the leopard hybrid glared at Hoseok out of the corners of his eyes. The fox hybrid began to haul Yoongi away, Jimin close behind with two bottles of champagne tucked into an ice bucket. “Join us after?”

“Sure thing, angels,” Y/N chuckled, Jimin’s tail wagging more quickly at the term of endearment as he hurried after Hoseok and Yoongi. Part of her new nighttime routine was ending the evening with a movie or two with the hybrids in the cushy parlor room, usually over a cocktail or a bowl of ice cream. 

“Whoa,” Y/N was brought back to the events unfolding beside her, Jeongguk finally opening the gift from her parents as strange emotions danced over his face.

It was a sterling silver necklace, one that would likely sit below the dip of his collarbones; the pendant a medieval looking sword. It was edgy, gothic, masculine– all the things Jeongguk embodied effortlessly. Her mother must have caught all of the silver jewelry Jeongguk already wore through his countless piercings, and went out to buy a necklace to match. Namjoon leaned closer to the elk hybrid to take a look, his head cocking contemplatively as he stared at the jewelry. 

“Pretty. Do you like it? They probably got it from the craft fair that’s been going on in Boston Common this week,” Y/N was practically bouncing on her barstool, fighting back the urge to take the necklace from the box and fasten it around Jeongguk’s neck herself, just to see what it looked like. 

“Mm,” Jeongguk hummed, cheeks pink with potential embarrassment, keeping the box open and setting it to the side. “It’s really nice. I need to thank them.”

“They’ll probably pop by at some point this weekend,” Y/N replied, a tad distractedly. 

Taehyung had slipped from the room under her nose, and she wondered where he had wound up– doubtful that he’d followed the three in the parlor currently yucking it up loudly. All that remained in the kitchen were herself, the elk hybrid, and Namjoon. She had the feeling Namjoon had stuck around just so he could possibly coerce Jeongguk into setting wards with them (or possibly have another slice of cheesecake). 

“Okay, this one next,” Y/N pushed one of the remaining two gift bags in front of him, Jeongguk immediately diving his hand into the bag, whether to speed up the process to escape her attention or out of eagerness to find out what else he was getting, she didn’t know.

Jeongguk pulled out the book, leather journal, and pack of pens she picked up from him at the bookstore, faintly snorting at the cover of The Paranormal Investigative Field Guide. His eyebrows furrowed as he passed his palm over the carved leather journal, fiddling with the intricate clasp as he set the pens and book aside. 

“I don’t know what you keep in that other journal of yours, but it looked like it was almost filled up the last time I saw you writing in it. Maybe this one will last you a bit longer,” Y/N explained, trying not to grin too widely at both Jeongguk’s growing fluster and Namjoon not-so-subtly leaning across the island to steal Y/N’s plate of half-eaten cheesecake she had long since abandoned. 

“What do you write in that journal? You carry it around everywhere,” Namjoon inquired over a mouthful of cheesecake, his half-bitten ear flickering at the sound of someone clinking champagne flutes together in the parlor. 

“It’s just where I keep my notes. One of the investigators I knew gave it to me. I write down what I see and how I think I can get rid of it, the results of any ritual I do, etcetera etcetera,” Jeongguk shrugged, eyeing the last gift. “This is the last one, right? You didn’t buy me a car or anything, I hope.”

Snorting, Y/N shook her head, enjoying her time spent with Jeongguk and Namjoon. While the two of them had given her a bit of grief in the past, she found she had quite a lot in common with both of them, and they had seemed to soften up significantly over the past week. 

“Holy shit, a camera?” Jeongguk pulled the video recorder out of the final blue gift bag, turning the box around in several directions to read the specs on the side of the glossy cardboard. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I was going for a paranormal investigation theme. Who knows, with this old house, there might be some ghosts in the attic you can capture on film,” Y/N smiled widely, Namjoon humming in agreement. 

The wolf hybrid was twitching in his seat, desperate to mention the entity he had banished from the house with Jeongguk, and the possibility that it was still hanging around. Y/N believed he was possibly waiting to bring the subject up the next day, which she thought was a nice gesture on Namjoon’s part– letting Jeongguk enjoy his birthday without it being tainted by the idea that his ritual hadn’t been a total success. 

“I wonder… Would you ever consider contacting that team of investigators? They’d probably be relieved to hear from you, and that you’re doing okay,” Y/N pondered, considering Jeongguk hadn’t expressed any interest in the rec clubs she had compiled on the spreadsheet. Jeongguk put his camera down gently, his features cloaked in mystery. 

“I could, I have the lead investigator Jeremy’s number,” Jeongguk began slowly, sucking his lip ring into his mouth in thought. “I’d have to think about it. With the way I was brought into that shithole shelter, there’s a strong possibility one of those fucks reported me to some agents. Not sure why they would do that, as they’re pretty fucking useless without me, but it makes the most sense. I’ve been on the streets for a while, so I know how to dodge agents. There’s no way I would have been caught unless someone called in a report.”

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, not really expecting such a lengthy answer to her offhand question. “Well that would be pretty shitty of them, if that’s the case. I hope their podcast tanks.”

Jeongguk chuckled with this, Namjoon finally getting off of his barstool to toss his cheesecake-crumbed paper plates into the garbage drawer, pushing up the sleeves of his forest green henley as he slid the scant remains of the cheesecake into the fridge. 

“I hope you liked everything, the food and the gifts! Oh, and thanks for being a good sport about the surprise. I know some people hate them,” Y/N gave Jeongguk a friendly pat on his shoulder, trying to avoid areas of the cream colored tee shirt dappled with blood. 

Jeongguk paused, letting her words sink in as Y/N plucked a few pieces of shredded velvet off of his tee shirt and dropped them into a crumpled piece of blue tissue paper, her eyes on his antlers that seemed to be almost completely stripped of the rich brown velvet they were once covered in. She wondered how long it would take for the velvet to grow back, though admittedly, there was something a bit hauntingly beautiful about the way the bones were stripped raw. 

“Uh, thank you. This was actually really nice, you didn’t have to plan anything, but you did. Tell me when your parents are coming by here so I can thank them, too,” Jeongguk managed after a moment, his voice sounding the most gentle she had ever heard it, and it was a rare moment where he didn’t slip an expletive into his speech. 

Grinning, Y/N resisted the urge to give him a hug– both him and Namjoon had yet to initiate that kind of skinship with her, so she didn’t want to cross a boundary– and opted to give him a soft squeeze on his shoulder before hauling herself off of the barstool. 

“You’re welcome, Jeongguk– I actually have a blast planning birthday parties, so it was my pleasure,” Y/N rounded the island, inching towards the entrance to the parlor. From the sounds of it, the three hybrids already in there hadn’t settled on a movie selection yet; talking over one another about their favorite sports.

Namjoon was staring at her from a few feet away while he downed the rest of his champagne; she could feel his gaze without even looking at him. Still, she couldn’t resist; turning to face him, she assessed his handsome face, the flush settled over his cheeks from the sparkling wine, the fullness of his lips that seemed to be naturally (and unfairly) rimmed with liner, and the orange honey color of his irises. All of his injuries from The Incident had long since faded, thankfully. 

“And you…” Y/N began slyly, Namjoon’s tail swishing a little faster as she leaned towards him, “You’re next! In a little over a week, too. I’ll have to order your cake in the morning.”

Before the wolf hybrid could react, he flinched, a loud, pitchy whine coming from the parlor. 

“Y/N! Yoongi won’t let me put on The Hangover!” Hoseok complained, his speech loosened from what was likely his seventh glass of champagne. Rolling her eyes, Y/N used a crooked finger to beckon Namjoon and Jeongguk so they could settle in for their before-bed movie. 

“Hoseok, we watched that on Tuesday,” Y/N reminded him calmly, standing in front of the TV and evaluating the three tipsy hybrids sprawled out on the couch. “All three of them.”

“Well, what are your suggestions then, darling?” Hoseok leaned a cheek heavily on his palm, a shaky elbow balanced on the armrest of the sofa as he blinked at her innocently. She knew better than to give into the act, however. 

“Let Jeongguk pick tonight,” Y/N wrestled the remote from the fox hybrid’s free hand, heavily plopping down between him and Yoongi, the latter of which seemed grateful for the barrier of her body between himself and Hoseok. 

With the fox hybrid muttering beside her, though worming his body closer to her side ever so slightly, Y/N waited for Jeongguk and Namjoon to find seats: Namjoon on the floor in front of her with a spare pillow to sit on, Jeongguk on the leather recliner that was rarely free. Feeling Yoongi begin to hook a hand around her elbow, Y/N leaned forwards to toss Jeongguk the remote before she lost all function of her arms. 

“I can pick the movie?” Jeongguk caught the remote mid air, a devilish expression shadowing his face ominously, dark eyes flickering between Hoseok and Namjoon. 

Y/N felt Yoongi’s hand shift from around her elbow, pulling her back against the cushions of the couch so he could thread his arm through hers, tucking her into his side. Hoseok similarly arranged himself, his nearest arm slung along the backside of the couch behind Y/N, angling his body so he could face her slightly. Biting back a chuckle in response to the clinginess, increasing not only by day but with boldness as well, Y/N let the two hybrids beside her curl into her frame. 

“Oh, Jin! I saved you a spot, come here,” Hoseok called happily once Seokjin appeared in the doorway between the foyer and the parlor, his raven curls damp from his shower and dressed in his pajamas. Promptly, the jaguar hybrid slunk into the room, stepping around Namjoon at Y/N’s feet and squeezing in between Hoseok and the armrest of the couch. He brought a cloud of eucalyptus and mint with him. 

“Alright. We’ll watch this,” Jeongguk announced after a few moments of flicking through Y/N’s digital movie collection. Complaints came from every direction at his choice, Y/N peering at the flatscreen with confusion to see what the ruckus was about.

“Ooh! I love this movie!” Y/N exclaimed, and Jeongguk promptly pressed play and the eerie opening music of The Conjuring began to flood through the surround sound. 

She hadn’t watched a horror movie in ages, even though they were amongst her favorites to lounge around and binge, and she certainly hadn’t watched one with the hybrids yet. They seemed to gravitate towards action or comedy movies, and she recalled Hoseok’s and Jimin’s aversions to The Bride of Chucky the night she brought them home and she scoured her movie library in search of something to watch with them. 

“Of course you do,” Yoongi muttered from beside her, his chin hooking over her shoulder as he snuggled in closer to her, hazel eyes narrowed at the creepy Annabelle doll currently filling the large flatscreen. 

“Fuck me, why do you want to watch something about a dirty old possessed doll?” Hoseok groaned, his tail curling around his front and across his lap, almost as if he was protecting himself with the thick fur. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re afraid, Hoseok. It’s just a scary movie,” Jimin suddenly interjected, his speech a little garbled after all the champagne he drank.

“Shut it, Jiminie. You’re telling me that thing doesn’t creep you out?” Hoseok replied, his arm around the back of the couch slipping lower to curl around Y/N’s shoulders, effectively trapping her between himself and Yoongi. 

“This is based on a true story?” Namjoon wondered aloud, the tips of his ears fluttering against Y/N’s bare calves from where he was sitting between her legs, likely in response to Taehyung appearing in the room, finally. “The Warrens… I’ve read a book about them. The Demonologist.”

Even though Taehyung kept his distance from everyone in the house these days, he would still participate in mealtimes and the nightly movie routine. The Kodiak hybrid quietly entered the room, rounded behind the sofa, and took his usual seat at the back of the room by the window and entrance to the kitchen. 

“Are you all going to talk through the entire film?” Jeongguk hiked up the volume, Y/N cringing in preparation for how loud it would get later on in the movie when jumpscares appear. 

At her feet, Namjoon growled lowly, but ceased to talk any further. Y/N theorized that Namjoon was attempting to open himself up to Jeongguk, at the very least, considering their shared interests, and she thought he was doing pretty decently so far. In fact, it filled her with warmth that Namjoon was beginning to show a little bit of trust between not only herself, but some of the other hybrids as well. She could only hope the same for Taehyung, over time. Now that everyone settled into silence to watch the film, apart from Hoseok’s periodic disturbed yelps in response to suspenseful scenes, Y/N relaxed into the couch, letting the two hybrids beside her tangle themselves even more closely to her. 

After the movie, Y/N managed to convince Jeongguk to save the second Conjuring movie for another day, and they switched back to New Girl reruns in order to calm not only Hoseok down, but a sufficiently creeped out Jimin as well. As it turned out, the coyote hybrid wasn’t as fearless as he had alluded to earlier in the night. 

She had said her goodnights; which were drawn out thanks to how she had to comfort spooked Hoseok and Jimin, pry a drowsy Yoongi off of her, and navigate her own hazy tipsiness. Y/N had just given her final hug to Taehyung, who held onto her so tightly she wheezed, before he ruffled her hair and walked her to her bedroom door.

 Pulling on her pajama shorts, Y/N chuckled to herself, wondering exactly when she was going to be driven insane in the near future due to the overwhelming amount of affection she was receiving from most of the hybrids lately. She knew that hybrids tended to get quite clingy and possessive over their adoptive guardians over time, but she wasn’t expecting many of them to warm up to her so fast. She couldn’t have imagined that she’d have five of them hugging her goodnight within two weeks of having them in the home– if someone had told her that the morning she made the adoptions, she’d laugh in their face. 

Extremely satisfied with how well Jeongguk’s birthday had gone, Y/N yawned into her hand, images of the new array of emotions she saw on the elk hybrid’s face that night making her smile; his faint fluster, gentle amusement, and even a glimmer of fondness. Thinking about how soft his voice sounded when he thanked her for the celebration temporarily distracted her from the messy pile of notes she had strewn about her vanity that she was lurking over once she pulled her tank top over her head. Biting her lip, she leaned a hip against the piece of furniture, squinting at the nonsensical scrawl she had managed to pen down that week, the abandoned and dog-eared copies of hybrid guide books scattered across the surface, and the general lack of organization of the entire area. 

She had planned on using the vanity as an altar for her practice, but in the past week, it was used for jotting down facts she had siphoned from the guide books, storing items and materials for the wards she was going to place around the property, and keeping a thin notebook she had used to make sense of the reading Judy had given her on Monday. Admittedly, there wasn’t much time she had dedicated to the latter subject over the past week– and truthfully, she had tried her best to push the reading out of her mind for as long as she could. Now that she had fewer things to distract her (such as planning Jeongguk’s birthday) and a wide-open long weekend, there was really no excuse for her to avoid dissecting the reading’s contents further. In a way, it would be practice for her rusty divination skills, and it would certainly scratch the itch she had been feeling since Judy sat her down for the reading in the first place. 

Perching on her vanity stool, Y/N opened up the notebook with a small sigh, listening to the familiar and comforting sounds of Jeongguk’s heavy tread from above her bedroom. Based on the direction of his footsteps and the faint thrumming of the pipes overhead, Y/N deduced he was taking a shower before heading to bed. Switching on the twinkle lights draped over the vanity mirror, she narrowed her eyes at the few notes she had taken on the reading; starting with the cards Judy had indicated as being Namjoon and Jeongguk. 

The Green Man - Namjoon, apparently (?) One who is a “father” of nature, represents summer (the ‘height’ of the wheel of the year). Patient. Perceptive, can see through what others cannot. Generous, proud, protective, masculine. Fearsome protector of nature, can be frightening? Known for a particularly strong and intense glare. 

The Stag - Jeongguk (?) An individual concerned with the collective and the environment. Conscious of actions and consequences. Has great integrity. Keen judgment. Connected to the cosmic aspects of life, as well as the organic (understands how those are both linked…?) Shield. Bringer of change; for better or worse. Forgiveness is hard to earn if betrayed. Intervenes with the divine. Spring. Fire. Morality. 

Biting down on the cap of her pen, Y/N looked from the frayed card guide book to her chicken scratch notes, distantly wishing she had the deck with her. It was always easier for her to connect to energies when she was physically holding the cards, soaking in the artwork. From what she gleaned from the meanings written in the guidebooks themselves, certain characteristics seemed to match up with things she had noticed in both Namjoon and Jeongguk’s personalities. As much as she wanted to write off the reading as a fluke, it was undeniable that the more she read into the energies, the clearer it was that the two hybrids were represented in the spread. Perhaps, in learning that truth, it led to her putting off digging into the meanings of the other cards, and putting together who was who. 

Shivering, Y/N tried to ignore the slight queasiness curling in her gut, chalking it up to feeling guilt over looking into a reading that involved her hybrids without their knowledge. It was still difficult to wrap her mind around Judy’s implication that her meeting, or adoptions of the hybrids, were over a year in the making. Not only that, but the reading she wasn’t present for a year ago was surrounding romance. It was a dangerous game, to let herself think about any romance between herself and the hybrids at the present time. Everything was so new to her, to them, and easing the hybrids into their new life and tangling romantic feelings into that process would be irresponsible of her.

Rubbing her temples, Y/N pondered the conundrum she was in. She was well past the point in trying to deny her attraction to all of the hybrids, as well as the startlingly accelerated growth rate of her affection that seemed to double each day she spent with them. Her greatest fear was the hybrids realizing her budding feelings, and in turn coming to a conclusion that she had only adopted them for that sort of relationship– which couldn’t have been further from the truth. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

To distract herself from spiraling for too long, Y/N began to fill out forms on the rec center website for Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung, the mind-numbing task of plugging in names, measurements, and writing down equipment each of them would need effectively pulling her thoughts away from the reading. She’d tackle the nitty gritty of deciphering the other card meanings she had listed in the notebook at some point during the weekend. She was in the middle of jotting down some items she’d need to order for Taehyung to participate in the photography club, when she heard her phone chime on the charger across her bedroom. 

Furrowing her eyebrows, she wondered if Alice was sending her Tiktok edits of Pedro Pascal again– it was pretty late, and she doubted it could be anyone else sending her a text message at two AM. Tiptoeing to her nightstand, Y/N rubbed her eyes and opened up her messages. 

Seokjin: Y/N, are you still awake?

Seokjin: I hope I didn’t wake you up by sending that…

Y/N: LOL, it’s okay, honey, I haven’t gone to bed yet

Y/N: What’s up ? Need something? I can bring you some water or whatever

Straining her hearing to see if she could register any movement in the house outside of her bedroom, Y/N realized it was futile to try and listen for Seokjin. His bedroom was on the second floor and the opposite side of the house. Even Jeongguk had finally gone to bed; she heard him flop down heavily onto his bed about forty minutes prior. It was a windy night, so all that she could hear was the reedy willow branches whacking against the roof and sides of the house. 

Seokjin: I was wondering if we could talk.

Pausing, Y/N blinked at the message thread between her and the jaguar hybrid. He had mentioned recently that he sometimes had trouble getting to sleep, so perhaps he was looking for a conversation to lull him into unconsciousness. Or, perhaps he wanted to continue their chat from earlier, which was interrupted by Hoseok. 

Y/N: Of course we can! Want me to come to you?

Several minutes passed without a response from Seokjin, puzzling Y/N. She was in the middle of tapping out another message to him when the light drumming of fingertips against her bedroom door had her halting. Running a hand through her hair to make sure it wasn’t a nest on top of her head, Y/N started towards her door as quietly as she could, conscious of Namjoon on the other side of the wall and not wanting to wake him if she could help it. 

“Jin? That’s you, right?” Y/N whispered as she carefully opened her door, met with the blackness of the hallway and eyeshine staring down at her. It was a little eerie to say the least, but the instant she caught a whiff of Seokjin’s eucalyptus shampoo her racing heart calmed a few beats. “Here, come in.”

Seokjin slunk into her bedroom lithely like a passing-by shadow, now completely visible in the purple glow of the fairy lights that illuminated the space. He looked a little twitchy, shifting from foot to foot, as Y/N shut the door behind him after she made sure no light was peaking out beneath the threshold of Namjoon’s bedroom door. The wolf hybrid, from the looks and sounds of it, appeared to be asleep, which brought her comfort– the last time another hybrid visited her in her room after hours, he had eavesdropped and flown off the handle. 

“I’m sorry for bothering you so late, I really should have waited until tomorrow… this isn’t important or anything,” Seokjin immediately blurted as soon as she turned to face him, her mouth dropped open to ask him what he wanted to talk about. 

“You’re not bothering me,” Y/N quickly assured, tucking hair behind her ear and giving him an inconspicuous once-over. Physically, he appeared to be just fine– in his pajamas, clean, complexion clear and healthy. His only tell that something was on his mind was the way his tail flicked back and forth anxiously. “Let’s talk. You mentioned last weekend that sometimes you have trouble getting to sleep. Is that what’s the matter?”

Seokjin swallowed thickly, the action making his Adam's apple bob in his throat, using a couple of fingers to tug at the loose neckline of his sleep shirt as if it was suffocating him.  

“No… Well, partly. I couldn’t fall asleep, but that’s not why I wanted to…” Seokjin broke eye contact with Y/N, inching towards the side of her bed and fiddling with the carved wood of the bedpost. “I feel like I need to tell you about what happened to me before we met, before the adoption. I started to, but then Hoseok interrupted– that’s besides the point though. I wanted to tell you for a while, um, just in case you were wondering why something is so off about me.”

Y/N gawked at the jaguar hybrid with utter disbelief. He was under the impression she thought there was something “off” about him? Absolutely horrified, Y/N moved closer, motioning to her bed so they could sit down together. 

“Hold on, Seokjin. First of all, I don’t think there’s anything ‘off’ about you. Secondly, you don’t have to tell me anything about your past if it makes you uncomfortable,” Y/N murmured firmly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to ease him down onto the mattress. 

There was a beat, where Seokjin settled down onto her mattress and processed her response, his chest rumbling with light purrs as she lowered down beside him, an earnest look on her face as she soaked in the jaguar hybrid’s side profile. 

“No, I know that. But there’s another reason I want to tell you. I think if I talk about it to someone I care about… someone like you, maybe the anxiety surrounding it will begin to ease,” Seokjin started softly, his eyes becoming far away like they were the afternoon she first spoke to him, staring out her window with the same mist clouding over his fiery irises. 

The sentiment of Seokjin admitting she was someone he cared about was not lost on her. Her pulse was racing, warmth flooding her body from head to toe, Y/N squirmed in her seat. That aside, it had her heart aching that Seokjin had been through something causing him so much anguish it was causing him to lose sleep. Seokjin was an absolute sweetheart, and there was nothing more he deserved than peace of mind– the fact that he chose her to open up to had the gravity of the situation crashing down on her. 

“So… I mentioned it earlier, but I performed stunts for big top shows. I trained for it my whole life, in labs– that’s what I was created for. Eventually, I was selected by a company, a traveling circus, and had been working there for a while,” Seokjin cleared his throat, running a hand through his curls, which appeared almost violet under the fairy lights in the room. 

“A traveling circus,” Y/N confirmed, trying her best to remain as composed as possible. Something, in the back of her mind, rang like a bell. Her grandparents used to take her to a traveling circus, one that arrived city to city by train, every summer when she was growing up. Surely, though, it couldn’t be the circus Seokjin performed for– to her knowledge, hybrids weren’t part of any of the acts. “You did acrobatics, right? Along with stunts?”

“Yeah. We went coast to coast, year round. Things were slower in the winter, that’s usually when they’d have us learn new stunts for the summer shows. This past winter, the stunt directors wanted me to do something new, something fresh for the upcoming season. They said ticket sales weren’t what they used to be, and that we needed a new, shocking act to bring people in again,” Seokjin recounted, his rounded ears flattening against his skull as he spoke. “For a while, I thought the stunt directors had forgotten about bringing it up to me and some of the other acrobats, but things became even worse after our July shows in New York. We couldn’t even fill half the tent with showgoers.”

“So these stunts you’d do… I take it they were dangerous? And the stunt directors wanted what, to up the stakes for ticket sales?” Y/N tried to keep the agitation out of her voice, towards the stunt directors, obviously. 

While Y/N loved the circus shows she had gone to growing up, as she got older, the glittering fantasy of it all rotted away into the reality she had come to be familiar with during her time at the animal hospital. Circus animals, and from what she could imagine, hybrids as well, were treated like nothing more than dirt by these companies. Their entire existences depended on performance, quality of performance– the training and the long hours were inhumane and the living conditions were just as dismal. 

“Well, the stunts weren’t risk free. But my training throughout my life was very thorough, so accidents weren’t ever a concern,” Seokjin softly chuckled, leaning down to nudge Y/N’s shoulder with his own. “After the shows in New York, we headed here, to Boston. There were five days before the next show, and the stunt directors were already advertising for the new act. Usually we’d have weeks to prepare for something new, but not this time. It was just supposed to be me, too… I was a favorite, um, of the crowd, apparently.”

Discomfort washed over Seokjin’s lovely face as he murmured the latter part of his statement, his fingertips winding into the material of his sleep shirt. Y/N noticed that this seemed to be a habit of his when he was anxious or unsure. 

“The accident, was it caused because you didn’t have enough time to practice?” Y/N asked after a moment, soaking in the way Seokjin’s ears fluttered with the sound of her voice. 

“I suppose it was one of the many causes,” Seokjin mused, still seeming quite far away– Y/N wondered if she reached out to touch him, if her hand would pass through his body like an apparition. “I primarily did aerial acrobatics and the occasional wire walk. This stunt involved both of those things, and it was one of the most dangerous stunts I’ve ever been asked to perform. I was supposed to do an aerial performance on the wire, suspended above a pool– no net to catch me if I fell. I’ve never fallen, so the stunt directors weren’t concerned about that possibility… but things happen.”

“There was no net to catch you?” Y/N all but squawked, finding it hard to keep her voice down. As long as she’d live, she’d never go to another circus. Again, Seokjin chuckled, despite everything. 

“No net. That isn’t why I fell, though,” Seokjin continued, leaning backwards on his palms so he could peer down at Y/N better. “At the last minute, the day before the show, they added one of my close friends to the act. She had little to no time to learn the aerial choreography, let alone get comfortable doing it on the wire; but she was also a ‘crowd favorite’, extremely talented, too. We were pretty used to performing together, but I could tell she was nervous about the whole thing. It was unlike anything either of us ever did.”

Pausing, Seokjin’s ear perked up, listening to the willow branches thwack against Y/N’s bedroom window, his orange eyes flashing as the wind picked up. 

“Opening night in Boston, we ran the stunt twice beforehand to make sure we had it down, and we did. While we were practicing, they were testing the lighting and pyrotechnics, which was normal. They didn’t tell us they were trying out new effects, though, and no one told us what to expect prior to the show,” Seokjin caught Y/N’s eyes, slightly gnawing on his thick lower lip with pointed incisors as he paused to gather his thoughts. 

“We were halfway through the act, and the tent– it was packed, I mean, we hadn’t sold that many tickets in months. Things were going well, I was just about to, uh… do the wire walk. I was supposed to go out halfway, catch my friend from where she was on the aerial hoops, then balance her on my shoulders and walk the rest of the way. As I stepped out on the wire, the pyrotechnics went off but they were much, much closer to where I was by the ladder than I was used to. Um, it startled me so much, I lost my footing, but I was able to hang on for a moment until I realized the top of the tent caught fire. Once I saw the fire, my grip loosened, and I was falling… The last thing I remember before hitting the water was my friend jumping after me, her arms stretched out.”

Y/N froze as soon as Seokjin mentioned the fire that had broken out. She remembered learning about that fire via the TV in the breakroom at the animal hospital weeks ago. Up until then, she hadn’t made the connection that Seokjin was involved in the tragedy– not only were several circus workers, but showgoers as well, were injured. She thought back to some of Seokjin’s behavior during the time she had spent with him; jitteriness around fire, anxiety in crowds, mortification when the swim team was brought up. Everything fell into place.

“So that cut on your side… all the bruising, it happened because of that fall, because the fireworks were too close to where you were performing?” Y/N whispered, trying to process everything. Seokjin hummed, flinching a bit when the air conditioner clicked on noisily. “I’m so, so sorry, Seokjin.”

“I finally woke up, at the shelter, and I met Hoseok and Yoongi. But… I don’t know what happened to my friend. I’ve been trying to find any mention of her in articles about the fire since you gave me my phone, but honestly I doubt the circus company would disclose, um, a d-death of a hybrid performer.”

“What was the circus company’s name, again? And your friend’s name, too? I could have Ben track down information. He has lots of connections, and is very persuasive when it comes to situations like these,” Y/N was desperate to help Seokjin in any way that she could, and wanted to make good on her mental promise to Seokjin when she adopted him that she’d find the people that injured him and slap them with a lawsuit. 

“My friend’s name is Hannah. The company– it was Cirque Mystique,” Seokjin responded, eyeing Y/N with vulnerability as the blood drained from her face. 

“No way,” Y/N breathed, memories coming back to her so suddenly and vividly it nearly took the wind out of her. 

Seokjin was a part of the circus her grandparents took her to all her life. The magic of Cirque Mystique had long since evaporated for her; between the injured circus animals she treated at the animal hospital and now Seokjin’s revelation– the memories of the buttery scent of caramel corn, enchanting lights of the big top, and adrenaline-pumping performances had disgust welling up in her gut as the sensations washed over her. Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when Cirque Mystique had incorporated hybrids into their acts, but she had a suspicion that it had to do with not having to actually pay them for their labor.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin furrowed his eyebrows, his tail instinctively wrapping around her lower back protectively. Damn, Y/N was supposed to be comforting him. 

“Seokjin, I used to go to Cirque Mystique shows all the time with my grandparents when I was younger, whenever the train would arrive in Boston. I mean, I haven’t been in a couple of years, but…” Y/N shuddered as she felt the jaguar hybrid lightly drag his palm down her spine, likely in an attempt to soothe. Damn, again. 

“Our shows used to be really popular. They only started employing hybrids into acts a few years ago. Perhaps, when you used to go to the show, the company wasn’t so–”

“Terrible? Irresponsible?” Y/N offered immediately, knowing that Seokjin tended to be a bit too kind or dismissive when describing horrible things that have happened to him. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Seokjin, and your friend Hannah, too. I promise, if Ben can dig up any information, I’ll let you know right away.”

Seokjin’s chest rumbled, the movement making him deflate a little bit. He appeared as if a weight was lifted off of him, though the melancholy was certainly still present around the slightly-drooped corners of his mouth. 

“Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot to me,” Seokjin bumped his shoulder against her again, his lips pulling up into a tiny smile. “I’m glad I told you, I feel a lot better.”

“I’m glad you told me too. I hope confiding in someone makes it easier for you to fall asleep,” Y/N reached up to push a stray curl out of Seokjin’s eye, squeaking softly when the jaguar hybrid caught her wrist before she could pull it away. 

She watched, transfixed on his movements, as Seokjin pressed her palm to his cheek, leaning into the caress with his eyes drawing shut. Stunned, Y/N felt the warmth of his cheek and the weight of his hand over hers, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. Seokjin hummed, his ears fluttering, and Y/N found herself at a loss for words. 

“Y/N?” Seokjin murmured, eyes still shut. 

“Hmm?” She managed, too busy memorizing each detail of his angelic face and begging her heartbeat to slow in her mind. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Seokjin sounded small, unsure. She’d shared a bed with Seokjin before, when she needed comfort, and she wasn’t about to turn him away after everything he just shared with her. 

“Of course,” Y/N agreed quietly, running her thumb over the swell of his cheekbone delicately. “Want to lay down? It’s getting pretty late.”

Seokjin nodded, reluctantly releasing her hand and watching with rapt interest as Y/N got up and began rearranging her quilt on her bed and shutting off the lamps scattered about her bedroom. Something in her chest was squeezing; the strange sensation of being watched by someone waiting for her to make the first move, and everything Seokjin had said and done since he knocked on her door had her head positively spinning. Shimmying out of her slippers, Y/N switched off the fairy lights over her vanity, her ears perking up as she heard the sound of Seokjin making himself comfortable in the bed. 

“Need an extra blanket?” Y/N grinned at the jaguar hybrid, who had wrapped himself up to his neck in her quilt so tightly he looked like a burrito. 

He shook his head, staring at her expectantly through the darkness as she began to get into bed herself, wondering why she didn’t feel awkward about the whole situation. If only her friends could see her now: months ago, if Y/N had told them she was climbing into bed with a man she’s only known for just shy of two weeks, they’d probably drop her off at her old shrink’s office. 

Seokjin didn’t leave much of the quilt for her, but she didn’t mind. She could feel his body heat from inches away, smell the familiar fragrance of his shampoo, and hear his light purring. Honestly, she hadn’t felt that immediately drowsy and comfortable in her bed since the last time Seokjin was in it with her, which was somewhat of a startling realization. 

On her back, she tried to make out the shapes of the moldings on the ceiling, listening to the wind and Seokjin’s gentle breathing. The jaguar hybrid shifted, pulling more of the quilt over Y/N’s body, now resting on his side to face her. Shivering with his proximity, she stayed as still as she could, feeling him tentatively tuck his face into the crook of her neck, his forearm lightly slung over her midsection. Y/N was positive he could hear the way her heart was racing, but he didn’t seem to mind, his eyelashes brushing the column of her throat as he shut his eyes. 

“Tired yet?” Y/N inquired, her voice hardly over a whisper. In response, Seokjin’s tail curled around her hips, his lips ghosting over her skin as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Mm. I like this quilt,” Seokjin mumbled, his speech slurred with sleepiness. “Smells like you.”

Y/N couldn’t help but bashfully giggle, using a hand to trace patterns over the skin of his forearm softly. Her father used to do something similar to her when she was anxious or couldn’t sleep, and subconsciously she knew that it was an attempt to comfort Seokjin even further. 

“Hope that’s a good smell,” Y/N joked, Seokjin weakly humming, the vibrations of his voice tickling her neck. 

“Hmm…” Seokjin tightened his hold around her waist, barely audible as he teetered on the precipice of consciousness. “… it’s the best.”

Y/N froze, her fingertips stilling their path over the smooth skin of his elbow. Heat bloomed over her cheeks, and she felt herself falling– hurdling, past the point of no return. Her heart was in trouble, and there was nothing she could do about it. Seokjin’s breathing became slow, mellowed, and his tail grew lax around her hips, and Y/N felt more awake than ever. 

“Goodnight, Jin,” Y/N whispered upon deaf ears, and although she knew she’d be turning endless thoughts around her head for a while, it was nice to have someone to hold. 

The next day, Y/N woke up by herself, but she expected as much. Unlike the first time she’d slept with Seokjin, she was relieved to not have him beside her as she woke up. It was probably best for her poor heart that she opened her eyes to just the indent of where his head had rested on her pillow, and she definitely had a bit of a champagne hangover that was currently pulsing through her skull as she watched Taehyung blow dust off of an old Led Zeppelin vinyl. 

From her spot, laying haphazardly on the leather couch in the music room, she groggily passed a hand over her face as Taehyung murmured to himself, organizing his little collection of records in alphabetical order on the shelf. 

“That’s a nice color on you, Tae,” Y/N complimented the Kodiak hybrid from her slumped position, lazily leaning over towards the coffee table to take a sip from her lukewarm coffee. He was wearing the cobalt blue v-neck long sleeve she had gotten for him, and it picked up the warm tones of his skin and eyes beautifully. 

Taehyung ducked his head, a small smirk curving his lips, peering at Y/N through his peripherals. She noted that Taehyung was beginning to follow her around again, as he did prior to The Incident, so she was hoping that he was starting to move forward once more. 

“Thank you,” his baritone voice still sent tingles down her spine, no matter how many times she heard it. “Where’s Yoongi? I thought he was supposed to be teaching you.”

“He wanted to take a shower after breakfast, he’ll breeze in any moment,” Y/N stretched her arms upwards, rolling her wrists like she had seen Yoongi doing before he’d start playing. 

Taehyung nodded, criss-crossing his legs from his spot on the floor and curiously looking through some of the items on the shelf with the records. The shelf was mostly filled with her uncle’s old things; he was kind of an audiophile, and collected all sorts of musical equipment– Taehyung began to pull an ancient pair of Audio-Technica headphones nestled on top of a dusty radio, turning them over in his hands. 

“I think you can use those with the turntable. My uncle used to hang out up here listening to records during family functions, and my grandmother had him wear those headphones so he wouldn’t disturb the Christmas party with Dio’s “Holy Diver”,” Y/N informed Taehyung, sitting up as she felt her phone buzzing away in her pocket. Eyebrows furrowing, she checked the screen– it was a number she didn’t recognize.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Yoongi stalked into the room, dressed in an acid-washed hoodie and dark jeans, his long hair damp and sticking to his cheeks. He paid Taehyung little to no mind, stepping around the Kodiak hybrid’s body as Taehyung tried to plug the headphones into the record player. 

“One second, I’m gonna see who this is and then I’m all yours,” Y/N squeezed Yoongi’s hand on her way to slip out into the hall while holding up her phone, secretly hoping Yoongi would try to engage Taehyung in conversation in her absence. A girl could dream, after all. 

“Hello?” Y/N traced her fingertips along the banister of the staircase, peering down into the foyer as she answered the call. 

“Hi, is this Y/N? This is Ralph, from City of Boston Towing Impound Lot. I’m answering an inquiry from an email you sent earlier this week,” a gruff voice boomed from the other end of the line, the busy sounds of city life threatening to drown out his speech.

“Oh! Thank you for getting back to me so soon,” Y/N exclaimed, nervously tapping her foot. This was the last impound lot or junkyard to contact her back since she sent out several emails looking for Namjoon’s trailer on Monday, and her last hope to find it for him. “Any luck finding the trailer?”

“Well, we have one trailer in the lot, picked up during the timeframe you mentioned it was impounded. I’m not sure if it’s the one you’re looking for, though,” said Ralph, with a note of skepticism. “You didn’t give a description of the trailer, but this one is pretty beat up. Covered in moss, real old.”

“Um, okay. Can I ask a favor?” Y/N replied after a moment, sneaking into one of the unclaimed bedrooms that overlooked the backyard. Ralph grunted, Y/N scanning the backyard from the window to catch a glimpse of Namjoon, who she had last seen reading a book under the tree by the picnic table. To her relief, the wolf hybrid was still there, sitting in the grass and enjoying the shade. “Could you take a look inside? There should be tapes, lots of books. That’s how I’ll know it's the trailer I’m looking for, and if it is, I can pick it up sometime next week.”

There were noises of movement and heavy breathing on the other end of the phone, the jingling of keys, and the rusty sound of a door opening. Gnawing on her lower lip, Y/N prayed to the universe she’d finally get lucky, especially considering Namjoon’s birthday was fast approaching.

“Yep, there’s tapes and books alright. Looks like a nutcase was using this trailer, though, ma’am… all kinds of alien posters and… Christ, is that a picture of Bigfoot?” Ralph seemed amused, rifling through items in the trailer. Bingo. 

“Ha, that’s me, the nutcase conspiracy theorist, and that’s my trailer! Can I pick it up next week?” Y/N fist-bumped the air, swearing to the sky she’d light a candle in thanks for the stroke of good luck. It was a miracle his trailer hadn’t been compacted at a junkyard yet. 

“Yeah, you’ll have to pay a fee, though. Thing’s been collecting dust for a couple of weeks,” a surprised Ralph replied incredulously, to which Y/N expressed was of no issue. She hung up with glee, all but blowing a kiss to the wolf hybrid from the window for having so many identifying objects in his trailer. 

Back in the music room, Yoongi was shuffling through a loose stack of sheet music, and Taehyung was lounging on his side on the floor, headphones on and a Soundgarden record on the turntable. Delighted that the Kodiak hybrid appeared to be staying while her and Yoongi had their lesson, Y/N skipped to the bench where Yoongi was sitting, promptly taking her seat beside him. Compared to last week, she was much more comfortable with being so close to the leopard hybrid, even finding it difficult to not lean into his sweet spiced warmth. 

“Something good? Call from a boyfriend or something?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow at Y/N, using a pencil to scribble down musical notes on the staff paper. Taken so off guard, Y/N sharply snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“A boyfriend? Good one,” Y/N chortled, elbowing Yoongi lightly in the ribs. He screwed his mouth up, gauging her reaction, his eyes slitted. “When, exactly, would I find the time to date, angel? I’ve got my hands full with you all, at the moment.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, leaning over the sheet music so his hair curtained his face. Rolling her eyes, Y/N began to play the melody of Twinkle Twinkle, which she had mastered at an embarrassingly slow rate over the course of the week. Yoongi made a surprised purr in the back of his throat when she didn’t make any mistakes and was exactly on tempo, recovering from her retort. 

“It was good news, however… looks like I found the perfect birthday present for Namjoon,” Y/N relented upon Yoongi’s silence, a smug smile on her face once she finished playing the melody. Perhaps, with the added motivation of wanting to please Yoongi, she had tried a bit harder with her piano practice than she would have otherwise. 

“With how he acted last week, it better be a lump of coal,” Yoongi muttered, his spotted ears turning backwards against his skull as he placed the sheet music on the shelf above the ivory keys. “Alright, sweetheart. Great job practicing, I think you’re ready to learn some music theory; how to read notes.”

“Yes sir,” Y/N cracked her knuckles, narrowing her eyes at the line of notes Yoongi had penciled in on the staff paper. Taehyung yawned from across the room, singing quietly to the track he was listening to through his headphones, paired with the light crackling sound of the needle passing through the vinyl’s grooves. “Where do we start, teacher?”

Yoongi sucked his teeth, appearing to bite back laughter, before extending an index finger towards the staff paper. 

“This is the treble clef, notes you’ll typically play with your right hand. There’s a mnemonic that can help you remember the order of the notes…”

Y/N listened closely, pressing each key down as he named them, enjoying the mid-morning sunshine through the windows and the company of the two hybrids. It was nice to share a love of music between the three of them, and Y/N had the faintest glimmer of hope that one day, her, Yoongi, and Taehyung could spend time together like this more often. 

The following day, after learning a simple lullaby with Yoongi on the piano and ordering items for the hybrid’s rec center clubs online over a Friday night cocktail, Y/N woke up to a beautiful Saturday morning, complete with early autumn temperatures and golden sunlight. She started off the morning with a couple of texts. 

Y/N: Morning, Namjoon! I think I want to do the protective wards around the property today- Saturdays are good for these kinds of rituals

Y/N: Does that work for you? I’m going to ask Jeongguk if he wants to help over breakfast :) oh, and pls wear black if you can

Y/N pulled on leggings and a loose, thin black sweater, taking soothing, deep breaths to center herself. The color black was associated with protection within her practice, and she’d made sure the ritual was performed on the best day of the week based on what her, Namjoon, and potentially Jeongguk were trying to accomplish. Her phone chimed as she heard a thump and a muted ‘fuck!’ from the other side of the wall, Y/N choking back a giggle at Namjoon’s clear stumble out of bed. 

Jimin: Hi, Y/N, I put coffee on - Hoseok and I are going out back to work on the chicken coop this morning

Y/N: Sounds good! Thanks for making the coffee, make sure you and Hoseok wear sunscreen pls

Surprised that Hoseok had willingly gotten up so early, Y/N dared to peek out her bedroom slider to catch the fox or coyote hybrids heading to the back of the property, but caught nothing but the overgrown hedges taunting her for being such a poor landscaper. Tutting, she turned her attention back to stacking ritual items into a basket to carry outside, tuning into the sounds of the house coming alive with the hybrids moving about their morning routines– Jeongguk stomping into his bathroom, Namjoon fumbling about his bedroom and opening up one of his windows, the scent of Yoongi making bacon in the kitchen, and the sound of someone (Seokjin or Taehyung, perhaps) making their way down the stairs. 

With everything she needed in her basket, Y/N set off for her morning cup of coffee. Passing by Namjoon’s bedroom door, it promptly creaked open as soon as she skipped by, Namjoon appearing with neatly combed-back silver hair and a tiny smile, contrary to the seemingly hectic start of his day Y/N had listened to on the other side of her bedroom wall. 

“Morning,” Y/N greeted cheerfully, Namjoon’s tail swaying behind him as he shut his door and joined her in the hall. 

Clearly, he had heeded her request to wear black; he had on black dress pants and shoes, along with a black wife beater and a dark gray cardigan pulled over it. Swallowing thickly, not used to seeing Namjoon in much else other than light earth tones, Y/N tried to push aside how attractive he looked in the dark outfit by averting her eyes to the foyer in front of her. 

“Is there a reason behind wearing black for a protection ritual?” Namjoon asked her after repeating back her greeting, following her in the direction of the kitchen. 

“It’s color magic– each color can represent a different element or intention. Traditionally, in witchcraft, the color black corresponds with protection and banishment. Think of it as an extra shield, absorbing any negativity we may encounter. Really, it's just another layer of insurance,” Y/N relayed, the wolf hybrid clinging onto every word. 

His presence, while still a bit intimidating to Y/N with his height and musculature, radiated power. Perhaps, as her mother had begun to theorize at the cookout, Namjoon had practiced some kind of occult magic before… she still hadn’t had the courage to ask him. Maybe when she’d reunite him with his trailer, he’d be more comfortable opening up about himself to her. 

“Do you think I can convince Jeongguk to help us?” Namjoon spoke again once they had made it to the kitchen, Y/N leaning against the coffee bar as she watched him fill up a mug for himself. “I thought he’d say something before now. If he’s dealt with these kinds of things before, wouldn’t he… sense that more needed to be done to break up the energy?”

“If you can’t convince him, I might be able to. However, I think he’s warming up to you, so let’s wait and see,” Y/N smirked, finding her mug of coffee on the island where Yoongi had already fixed it for her. The leopard hybrid himself appeared to be in the pantry; Y/N spotting the light of the closet on and a flash of his spotted tail from behind the half-closed door. “Also, there’s been a lot going on around here lately. He could have noticed but chose not to mention anything, but who’s to say.”

Namjoon’s cheeks grew a bit pink, nodding to himself and shuffling off to the breakfast nook with his coffee. Yoongi emerged from the pantry with a bag of dry pancake mix and the waffle iron, saying good morning to Y/N by catching her off guard and pulling her in for a side-hug. She could feel Namjoon gawking at her and Yoongi from the breakfast nook, a strange look on his face when she finally stole a glance of him, trying to shake off the tingles dancing down her spine at his steely expression. 

“Any sign of Seokjin, Taehyung, or Jeongguk this morning?” Y/N cracked a couple of eggs into the bowl of waffle batter Yoongi was working on, reaching up to dust a bit of flour off of the leopard hybrid’s face. Blinking, Yoongi registered her question as her thumb brushed the debris off of the slope of his nose, licking his lips. 

“Seokjin just joined Jimin and Hoseok outside, Taehyung is upstairs listening to records. No sign of the elk yet,” Yoongi murmured, resuming his task of stirring the waffle batter. 

“Wow, you’re all up early today,” Y/N remarked, noticing Namjoon going through the contents of the basket of ritual items curiously. “What do you two think about going out to dinner tonight? There’s a brewery in town, good pub food. I can ask Alice if she’s free, too– we’ve been meaning to go together.”

“Sounds good to me,” Yoongi mused, pouring batter into the hot waffle iron. “I could go for some wings and beer. We don’t have many groceries, anyways.”

“Who’ll drive, if we all drink?” Namjoon frowned at Y/N, a bundle of rosemary in one of his fists. 

“We’ll take a cab,” Y/N wanted to childishly stick her tongue out at the wolf hybrid, but managed to keep it together. “Don’t worry, I’m not that irresponsible, Joon.”

Namjoon immediately clammed up, hastily placing the bundle of rosemary back into the basket and turning to stare out the window. Yoongi’s tail smacked the back of her thigh, predictably, and Y/N was about to flick him in the shoulder when she smelt a cloud of smoke enter the room. Once checking to make sure the waffle iron wasn’t up in flames, she relaxed, when the cloud of smoke came with familiar notes of leather and musk. 

“Hey Jeongguk, hungry?” Y/N spun on her heel, pleased to see the elk hybrid already dressed in his signature all-black attire, eyeing Namjoon and the basket on the breakfast nook suspiciously. 

Y/N bit her lip, noticing Jeongguk was wearing the necklace her parents got him for his birthday– the sword pendant indeed resting perfectly between his clavicles above the loose collar of his Metallica tee shirt. Additionally, it looked like his velvet had finally stopped shedding; his antlers completely bare and his face and hair free from any caked-on blood droplets. Ignoring Y/N, he stalked over to Namjoon and the mysterious basket, Y/N able to see a bit of the tattoo on his back that creeped up the nape of his neck due to the looseness of his shirt. She wondered exactly what the tattoo depicted, as she had only seen a brief, hurried glimpse of it before. It was hard to make out with only about an inch of it exposed at the present moment, and she certainly felt like she was leering at the poor elk hybrid. 

“What’s this for, Y/N? Not planning on doing another ritual to attract demons to the house, are you?” Jeongguk asked dryly, a note of bemusement coloring his tone. Yoongi grumbled from beside her, slicing through the flesh of a strawberry a little too aggressively. 

“We’re placing wards around the property today. You and I didn’t do that the night banished that entity from the house, and both Y/N and I noticed that the energy still seems off,” Namjoon answered for Y/N, looking thankful for the elk hybrid’s arrival in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I know. You two aren’t exactly quiet or subtle when discussing this shit,” Jeongguk sunk into the breakfast nook across from Namjoon, fiddling with a stray cigarette poised behind his ear. “You want me to help, right?” 

“Only if you’re willing,” Y/N piped up, obviously not wanting to force Jeongguk to hang out with her and Namjoon. 

“I’ll come out with you. I want to know why this thing is so persistent, anyways,” Jeongguk waved an inked hand, flicking through his phone disinterestedly. 

“Great, it won’t take long,” Y/N grinned, her phone once again buzzing a hole in her pocket. Before she could excuse herself to take the call, Yoongi caught her by the hem of her sweater. 

“Before you go out there, I want you to have some breakfast, okay?” Yoongi stared at her gravelly, Y/N nodding dumbly as he clicked his tongue and released her. 

She answered the phone call from her dad out on the front porch, hopefully away from eavesdropping hybrid ears. Thankfully, he agreed to a favor she had asked of him and her mother; to go together and pick up Namjoon’s trailer and store it at their house until his birthday, as she’d be a bit busy the following week between getting herself to work and each hybrid to their clubs at the rec center and library. Relieved to have most of the plans for the wolf hybrid’s special day out of the way, she tucked her phone back into her pocket and headed back into the house to scarf down breakfast, clean up, and retreat outside to place the wards with Namjoon and Jeongguk. 

“What’s your plan? Banging pots and pans, making salt lines?” Jeongguk asked over a drag of cigarette, gazing out at the small pond in the backyard distractedly. 

There was a definite breeze in the air; one that carried the scent of sun-scorched grass and smoke coming from the neighbor’s chimneys. Y/N chose to let Jeongguk’s sarcasm amuse rather than annoy her, setting up a sort-of “center” of a circle for the ritual on a large, flat rock by the pond. It was smack-dab in the middle of the property, so it was a good place as any to focus the protective energy and send it outwards. 

“Putting salt on the grass and soil is a no-go, it’ll kill everything. And banging pots only works in the house and if you’re dealing with a simple human spirit,” Y/N set up a large black pillar candle on the rock, using the end of a sewing needle to inscribe protective sigils she’d created when she was a teen into the wax. “We’ll use a combination of smoke cleansing with a simple prayer, and burying these protective jars in the four corners of the property. If this doesn’t work, we’re looking at a banishment ritual on the New Moon, at the end of this month.”

Lighting the candle with a match, Y/N mumbled a prayer to her spirit guides for additional protection and assistance. Standing from her crouched position, she handed out a bundle of rosemary to both hybrids behind her, as well as a tiny spell vial she had pre-prepared to bury at each corner of the property. 

“Okay, Jeongguk, Joon– you two can take the front two corners of the property and halfway up either side. I’ll do the backyard, and meet you back here when we’re done,” Y/N passed her bundle of rosemary through the flame of the candle to light it– Namjoon mimicking the action– while Jeongguk used the lit end of his cigarette to ignite his own bundle with an air of indifference. “So here’s the prayer, just recite it as you see fit, and use your hand to waft the smoke around the edges of the property. When you reach a corner, just use a stick to dig a little hole and drop the spell jar into it, cover it, and come back here after. I think that’ll do it.”

Y/N equipped the two of them with a scrap of paper with a small prayer on it each, knowing that both of the hybrids were clear on the directions based on how they listened with intensity. It was quite nerve-wracking to have such close attention from both Namjoon and Jeongguk at once, but her heart felt warm knowing that they’d both willingly come outside with her to help out. 

“Be careful, Y/N. Shout if anything happens, and we’ll be there,” Namjoon surprisingly laid a tender hand over her shoulder, bending low so he could look directly into her eyes, while Jeongguk had begun to purposefully stride away towards the front-right end of the property with the smoking rosemary already raised in his fist in a swaying motion. 

“You too, Joon,” Y/N patted his hand over her shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. With that, he departed with a flicker of his half-bitten ear, and Y/N hoped that the protection ritual would go by without an issue. In all of the similar rituals she had performed in the past, they’d gone off without a hitch, but something was tugging at her gut, annoyingly so. 

Y/N made sure the sigil-carved candle was well sheltered against the wind before heading off towards one of the back corners of the yard, steeling herself as she went. While she felt centered, this was the first formal ritual she was conducting since picking her practice back up again, so she definitely felt a bit of beginner’s nerves. 

Crossing the bridge by the “guesthouse”, Y/N happily waved to Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin, who were in the middle of pulling rusty chicken wire down from around the coop, tools scattered around the beaten-down earth. Jimin looked positively in his element; his golden hair shining in the early morning sunshine, and once again her heart squeezed looking at him. 

“Y/N! Good morning! What are you up to?” Hoseok hollered, his ears fluttering playfully as he tore down a section of chicken wire with ease. Y/N decided to pause, considering she’d have to smoke out the stable for the ritual, as well, shuffling over to the dilapidated chicken coop and the three hybrids surrounding it. 

“Morning, you three,” Y/N greeted, using her free hand to brush some dirt off of the light material of Jimin’s linen shirt, able to smell the unique combination of his lavender shampoo and perspiration due to the proximity. As always, Jimin maintained intense, unrelenting eye contact with her, his butterscotch irises sparkling. 

“What’s up?” Hoseok repeated, glancing pointedly at the burning bundle of herbs in her hand. 

“Just doing a little protection magic. Namjoon and Jeongguk are helping, too,” Y/N replied, following the fox hybrid and Jimin into the stable. Jimin was telling Hoseok to stack up the old, rusted chicken wire in one of the vacant stable stalls. 

Y/N wafted rosemary smoke around the old building, admiring the way beams of sunlight filtered through the weathered slats of the roof. She couldn’t wait to see how Jimin would fix it up, and planned on using every spare minute of her free time helping him. If they could get everything squared away before November, when the frost would begin to crystalize the backyard, they could definitely board horses throughout the winter. Y/N knew that having horses in the stable would make Jimin happy, and that was all she wanted, truthfully. Honestly, the possibility of extra income paled in comparison to the idea of bringing Jimin joy, and seeing his pretty smile. 

“Y/N, would it be alright if I come into town with you on Monday? There’s a few things we’ll be needing right away to repair the corral and some of the stalls, maybe we could go to the hardware store after your shift?” Jimin approached her after several moments, leaning his hip against an ancient looking ladder leading up to the stable loft. 

“Yeah, that’s totally fine,” Y/N grinned, trying her best to direct the rosemary smoke away from Jimin’s face. “I think, in order to accomplish that, I’ll have to drop you off with Seokjin and Namjoon at the library for the afternoon, is that okay with you?” 

“Of course,” Jimin replied immediately, returning her grin. Jimin was so effortlessly gorgeous, even after performing manual labor in the thick humidity all morning, it took her aback. “I’ve already read The Stranger, before, so I think I’ll be able to hold my own in the book club while I wait for you.”

Y/N was struck once more with how extensive the coyote hybrid’s taste in literature was. Sure, Namjoon definitely came across as very bookish, but Jimin seemed to be an equally avid reader. She never even asked him if he wanted to join her mother’s book club, which would pretty much be a perfect fit for him. 

“Wow, I think you’ll make my mom’s month come Monday,” Y/N chuckled, reaching out to give Jimin’s shoulder a fond pat and squeeze. He leaned into the touch, once again flashing her an Oscar-worthy smile, his sandy ears fluttering delightedly. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll be able to come out here tomorrow and Tuesday to help you with anything, too.”

Jimin had followed her around the stable as she both conversed with him and smoke cleansed the area, until the pair of them made it back outside and Y/N figured it was time to move on. Before she left the three hybrids, she asked Seokjin how his morning was going; his cheeks flushed from the heat and exercise and shy purr leaving his chest. Between the three hybrids milling about the chicken coop, Y/N felt her heart swelling, each of them so focused on their tasks it helped her to re-center, wanting to make sure they were all well protected by the wards she was placing.

Paired with Hoseok’s bright laughter and Seokjin’s grounding energy, Y/N felt invigorated to move further past the stable and to the slightly forested area where she would bury her first spell jar. 

Fanning rosemary smoke around as she walked with her free hand, Y/N chewed her lip as she noticed a storm cloud darkened her half of the yard ominously, the temperature seemingly dropping and wind picking up. She couldn’t decide if she was simply overanalyzing natural occurrences or if something was stirring now that she was taking action, but she was unsettled to say the least. 

Reaching the left-hand corner of the property, Y/N knelt to dig the hole for her first spell jar, placing the burning rosemary on a stray boulder while she recited the prayer from memory. She had just plopped the jar into the earth, when every hair on the back of her neck rose to attention, and a whispery voice from behind curdled her insides. 

“If you dare…”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

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