#he'll always keep their promise close to his heart and look forward to that day

[rrotostap]

#shuakeweek2024 | Day 3 | Hurt/comfort

Even if it hurts, I'll always keep walking toward the stars I'm reaching for, the stars of tomorrow.

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[bizbat]

can you PLEASE write jason coming to you instead of anyone else. like i need that sooo bad please :)))

p.s i love your writing soo much. youre so talented, i am constantly giggling as i read

Always You . . .

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Jason Todd x Reader

~ Reader's appearance is not described

~ Wc: 1.086 K

~ This took forever omg, but yesterday I got food poisoning so I finally got some time to write this. Not my proudest work but wtv.

~ You can find more of my works here.

Above all else, he'll always come to you.

Contrary to popular belief, Jason Todd can be gentle. You've seen it, in the way he slowly flips through whatever book he's reading so you can read it over his shoulder, or how his fingers softly caress your thigh when you're seated beside him as if you're made of glass, or in the warm way he smiles whenever Damian says something the reminds him he's a child.

He's gentle now too, his head resting in your lap, his shirt torn and soaked in what's now dried blood. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you promised you'd watch over him while he slept, just in case something went wrong and he choked on his own blood or vomit.

You had that same nausea when he first came to your apartment at five in the morning, the bile rising in your throat at the smell of metal and the sight of blood gushing out of his gaping-

Just remembering is enough to keep you awake.

It . . . hurts, for many reasons, knowing that he puts his own life in danger for people he doesn't even know. You don't know why he does it, all you know is that for the next week and a half, he'll take a break to let his stitches heal at least a little bit. It's never enough, though. He'll crawl back to you in a few weeks, a sheepish smile on his face and his stitches popped open.

You'll roll your eyes but you always fix them for him. It's become a routine. Not one you're exactly fond of, but a routine nonetheless. It gives you something to look forward to. Sometimes it doesn't feel fair. The fact that he's always on the brink of death when you see him, that he's always covered in scars and wounds and gashes, and above all that, the fact that he only seems to come to you to sew a bullet hole shut or wrap a broken arm.

It does get exhausting, but who are you to complain. At least he trusts you, that's what you tell yourself. He comes to you because you're the only person he lets get that close to him these days, because you're the only person who won't chew his ear off. All things you've told yourself. He comes to you because maybe, possibly, potentially, somewhere deep deep inside, he loves you. That's your favorite excuse.

"You're really pretty, have I ever told you that?" You're so deep in thought you don't even realize those deep cerulean blue eyes are now studying your contemplative expression. When you calm your beating heart you turn your gaze back to his. "I thought you were sleeping?" "I was," He wraps his arm back around your waist, holding himself closer to you. "But you were tuggin' on my hair."

You hadn't even realized you'd been running your fingers through his hair until he pointed it out, though at some point in your thoughts it seems your hands had begun twisting around the raven locs. Upon said realization you immediately pull your hand away, only for him to reach out and pull it right back. "I didn't mind it that much doll." His smirk is enough to clear your mind.

He slowly rises from his position, moving to sit beside you, resting most of his weight on your shoulder with a groan. His hand reaches to his side, where a particularly nasty gash resided, thankfully sewn shut by you. Once the pain subsides he moves his hand to check your handy work. "Not bad, not bad at all." He turns that stupid smile back to you and it fries your brain. "Getting better and better every time."

It does make you smile. You weren't always so good at fixing him up. He'd come in almost every night needing you to patch him back up. It took awhile for you to be able to get him back in shape so fast. "Jay," A long while, actually. "I . . . I've been wondering?" You slowly proposition him. "Yeah? About what?" He is genuinely curious, and he knows that look on your face. He sits up, taking his weight off of you and resting against the arm of the couch.

"Just-nevermind, actually. It's stupid." You hold your hands in your lap. "It's not." He hates when you do that. When you shut yourself down before he even gets a chance to answer. "Ask me, I won't be mad." He leans in closer, his hand on your knee, and he strokes it how he always does. It takes a second to gain back your confidence. "Why-why do you always come to me when you're hurt? I just mean wouldn't it be better to go to Bruce, or Alfred, or I don't know, a doctor?"

The only thing worse than his smile is his laugh. Like an icy breeze on a hot summer's day, or a dark cold wave crashing down on a yellow beach. It warms your heart and makes you feel stupid for asking in the first place, all at the same time. "Why would I go to any of them? I like you." He likes you!!! You were right!!! "Because I'm not a professional. I can barely give you stitches, I don't know what I'd do if you were-if you," The quiver in your voice breaks his heart.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. "You don't need to worry about that. It's never gonna happen," He grabs your chin between his forefinger and his thumb and brings your gaze to his. "You take care of me, too much for me to be risky about that." You think you believe him, especially when he presses a kiss to your lips. Though you've tasted it a thousand times, you still wince at the taste of blood still clinging to his chapped lips.

He laughs when you grimace. "Sorry," He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He's quiet for a bit after that, silent as he holds you. Before too long he speaks again, breaking the, admittedly, uncomfortable silence. "I . . . I dunno why I always come to you. I guess I just . . . like it here. I like you." He's not looking at you when he says it, but you know he's being honest, and knowing him, he's understating.

It's enough for you, at least until next time. You relax into his body, satisfied. "I like you too Jaybird. I like you a lot."

[shotmrmiller]

Inevitable (Ending 1 to Situationship)

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB! Reader

TW: Major Character Death, blood, hurt/ little comfort, a g o n y

Simon closes his eyes in defeat. He had been dancing with death for too long, and it'd finally come to collect it's dues.

This particular mission had been long. He knew it would be. Price had debriefed him on it months before— since it would only be them two. They were the seniors of the task force. They've done a similar mission before, so it seemed only natural that they did it again.

But it didn't mean it hadn't been shit since they arrived.

Almost 9 months out in the freezing cold, MRE's every day, waiting for the chance to finally get their hands on vital information that would save millions.

It was a tiny town in Russia, Oymyakon. Home to about 500 people. Soldiers, mostly. The plan had been to wait for a large portion of the small militia to move cities— to another safe house in the nearby city of Khara-Tumul. What prolonged this mission was that while Ghost and Price knew they'd move, they didn't know when. And it had been imperative that the duo get out here not to miss this slim window.

To Simon, this had been a perfect way to not be distracted with the situation back home. With you.

You had been with him for years now, and he always loved going home to you. A warm flat, a home-cooked meal, and the love in your eyes every time he came back from a mission. But then something he hoped wouldn't happen, did. Simon's past chose to catch up with him now. Now, when he finally had something to look forward to in life.

One day, outside his door, was an envelope. He had felt a crushing pressure on his chest. The blood in his veins was cold, and his hands trembled as he picked up the envelope. He squeezed his eyes as he let out a shuddering breath— praying to whatever higher power that the enemies he has made throughout the years don't know about you. He practically rips open the package and his worst fear is confirmed. Photos of you and Simon out on a date. He even remembers the said date because you had been wearing the sexiest leather booties he'd ever seen. Simon had made you wear them as he fucked you into the mattress that night.

Which meant that Simon had to end it with you. He was about to go on a mission for an unprecedented amount of time and he would not be here to protect you. So a month before leaving, he treated you coldly. Harshly. A way he'd never dream of being with you. He would hear you crying in the bedroom and it was a knife to his heart, but to him, it seemed like it was the only way to keep you safe.

Then, a moment he'll never forget. He said that he didn't feel the same for you as he did before. Thought it best if you both went your separate ways and that it had to be within the next two weeks because he was selling the flat and moving away. That whatever of his you had, to give it to him. Any sleeping shirts, photos, and the bloody ring he promised himself you'd wear to your grave.

He was a witness to how you broke at his words. God. He, at that moment. wished his enemies just took him and be done with it. Relieve him of the agony he caused to himself by hurting you. You wailed, agonizingly loud, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and dripping from your chin to the floor for what seemed like hours.

Til your heartbreak turned to rage. You spit venom at him. That if he had another 'cunt' waiting for him somewhere. That if he ever even loved you. You always were his strong merciless woman with fire in your veins and smoke in your lungs. How hard it was to be him, sitting on the couch and blankly stare at the telly without rising to your jibes. To tell you the truth. That there has been no one before you and there won't be one after you. But he forced himself to ignore you as you shoved all of your belongings in your luggage before throwing him the engagement ring and slamming the door.

Gone.

After this, he lived up to his namesake. He was a ghost from your past life. As if he had never been there in the first place. You moved away, far away, and it was bittersweet for Simon because this way you could disappear, out of the limelight. Breathing. Alive.

And he kept an eye on you, from afar. Just to make sure you were safe.

It worked. Both fortunately and unfortunately. You moved on, it seemed. Not from him, which he is so grateful for, but your life went on in every other aspect. It went uninterrupted up until his deployment.

It was supposed to be a simple but long mission. Wait for them to clear out before cleaning house. But even with all the careful planning, and no fucking mistakes, it went tits up.

Somehow they missed one. One fucking enemy. Simon had been standing behind John and turned around after hearing the crunch of broken glass behind him.

One shot to Simon's shoulder, another to his stomach, and then another to the right side of his chest. Before Simon falls, John shoots the last man dead. He throws himself to his knees next to Simon, gloved hands on top of each other as he presses hard into the bullet hole bleeding the most— the one in his ribcage.

"Christ, Ghost. Stay with me, son. We'll get you out of here and patched up in no time, yeah?"

Simon can't hear anything past the rushing of blood in his ears and his own heartbeat, pumping out blood from his wounds with each pulse. Simon's losing too much blood, too fast, and he knows it.

Price is panicking, voice warbling on the radio calling for medevac, but the wait time is 45 minutes. Far too long. And Simon had beat the devil once, long ago. Everyone knows he can't be beaten twice. He opens his mouth and blood bubbles in it as he tries to speak.

"I'm not making it, Captain."

"The hell you're not, Simon, stay with me!"

Simon grabs John's wrist with the little strength he's got left and whispers out, "Captain. John. Please," before digging into the inside of his glove, and pulling out something before clasping it in John's hands and squeezing.

"Please."

John looks at his own hand and nods, eyes glassy with years before he sniffles, clears his throat, and tells Simon of how his daughter had just learned how to argue back when he wouldn't give her any more juice because she's had too much.

Simon is still gripping John's hand as he drops his head back in resignation —before he imagines the family he could've had with you. Pretty little girl with curly hair, your eyes, and all of your attitude. In another life, he thinks, he'd find you there too. In any life, he'd love you.

He wheezes an inhale once—wet, painful— and exhales, and then his chest stills. Hand gripping John's goes limp. John lets out an agonizing scream through his teeth before he presses the button on his radio so hard it cracks.

"All stations— this is Bravo. We got the intel...One KIA."

---

You're in your bed, toasty and warm, when there's a knock on your door. You sharply raise your head before turning to look at the clock.

8 a.m.

'Who in the hell is at my door at this hour?'

You begrudgingly throw the covers to the side, hand on the swell of your belly before rolling up from your side to sit on the edge of the bed, and step into your slippers. One hand underneath your 3rd trimester bump, you drag your feet towards the front door and open it.

A tall man with mutton chops and a black beanie is standing in front of you. He looks down at your heavily pregnant stomach and closes his eyes, softly shaking his head with a, 'Bloody fuckin' hell.'

Your face is contorting into confusion when he opens his mouth to say, "You must be Simon's fiancee."

Your heart starts to pound into your ribcage. You don't even try to refute his claim because you have an inkling of what this is about. 'Please god, no.'

"It is with deep regret that I am here to inform you of the untimely death of your fiance, Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He died on active duty, contributing his best to our cause. The reputation gained by your fiance is a fine one, and I hope the knowledge of this affords you pride and comfort during your sorrow. I extend my heartfelt sympathy to you."

Your throat is closing up, choking you as tears well in your eyes. Chest is on fire because you can't breathe and your chin is trembling with the struggle to not weep and fall on your knees. Taking a deep shuddering breath, you clench your teeth. You're livid. Whatever the fuck this is, it isn't good enough for your Simon.

Voice warbly and wet, you hiss, "I could've gotten a casualty letter from the bloody military if I wanted to hear you spew your shit," ending it with a sniffle.

"You're right. May I come in?"

Throwing the door open, you shuffle inside as John steps inside. You're about to sit down when you hear a "Let me.", before the chair you're about to sit on is pulled back. Holding the underside of your belly, you let out a huff as you drop your weight to the seat.

You turn to look at John and you see the clench in his jaw before he opens his mouth to try and speak but he cuts himself off with a clearing of his throat. He takes a second before swallowing and grips the back of one of your dinner table chairs before attempting to speak again.

"Simon was one of my best." Your eyes soften at how frail and shaky his voice sounds.

"He was always at my six. Said it was to be the eyes I didn't have at the back of my head. But I know he always had his facing an open area whenever I was turned around. He died for me. Had he been standing anywhere else other than behind me, he would still be here," and he breaks down, shaky sobs leaving him.

You slowly get up, hand to your lower back before moving to him and giving him an embrace as you wail into his shirt— mourning the loss of a loved one.

It seems like a long time before John taps your upper back and says, "Come. This cannot be good for the baby. You need some relaxing tea, eh?"

With hiccupping breaths, you pull away to look at him before nodding.

"Come. You're gonna make it for me. I wish to get to know what kind of extraordinary man you must be. Simon would not have given his life for less."

He gives a self-deprecating chuckle before he digs into his pockets, before holding his fist out, dog tags glinting under the light and a small white square between his thumb and index. That square has your address written in shorthand and it had a bloody streak over a part of it— the streak the shape of a finger, as if ripped out from someone's hand.

"His dog tags. As well as what Simon on his dying breath. He carried this with him, and by the state of how crumpled it is, he had it everywhere with him."

You take the chain, putting it around your neck— tags resting against your belly— before taking the paper. It's a photo of you. You're in a flower sundress, skin glowing under the rays of the sun with a blinding smile and rosy cheeks. You knew this photo. Simon always claimed it was his favorite. That he loved your smile here because He had made you smile like that.

Your tears are slipping from your eyes and dripping onto your pajamas before picking up the dog tags and pressing a kiss onto the cold metal, then letting them drop. Little baby Riley gives a swift kick to where the tags landed on your stomach.

@thychuvaluswife

[swarvey]

when you've moved on | elliott x gn!reader | part two

summary -> he slowly lost interest in you after you got married. now he watches you fall back in love with someone else. warnings -> very slight mention of nsfw, implied age gap, mainly just angst! wc -> 1106

a/n: i swear i keep trying to write for the bachelorettes but then get inspired with an idea for the bachelors :') anyways have this, decided to do elliott since he's "so much older and wiser" iykyk.

this was inspired by the dialogue you get when your hearts with your sdv spouse gets low, except i flipped the tables :) lmk if you guys want to see this as a series!!

part one -> the way i loved you (sebastian)

tolerate it -> "what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins?"

elliott's pen hovers over the page in front of him, unmoving for the past ten minutes now. his grip tightens, knuckles white in frustration as he finally releases it, falling back in his chair with his eyes closed as it clatters onto his table.

his writer's block has never been worse, and it's because all he can think of is you.

more so, his loss of you.

no matter how many times he replays the scenario in his head, he can't make sense of how he lost you. he still remembers his wedding day, how he couldn't help but tear up at the sight of you approaching him down the aisle.

"you said you wouldn't cry," you'd teased him.

"i said i would try, my dear," he responded, touching your cheek gently, "but how can i not? your beauty is otherworldly today."

he remembers his vows, his promise to always be by your side. he remembers kissing you like his life depended on it. he remembers going home with you that night, in disbelief that he could finally call you his as he pulled his hair into a bun, mermaid's pendant hitting his bare chest as he dragged you to the bedroom.

"i love you, y/n," he'd said after, both of you panting in exhaustion and satisfaction beside each other. "more than anything else in this universe. i wouldn't trade you for a hundred iridium bars."

you'd laughed, turning your head to look at him with shining eyes and pink cheeks. "really? how about a thousand?"

"nor a thousand."

"ten thousand?"

"not even ten thousand bars, no."

". . . how about a hundred thousand?"

"no, not even a hundred thousand bars!" he'd turned to you then, wide-eyed and holding back a grin at the sight of your scheming gaze. "my love, let's be reasonable—"

"what about a million bars?"

"wha . . . a million bars of pure iridium . . . ? dear, don't make me do this . . ."

"a-ha!" you'd said, sitting up in bed suddenly. "so you would!"

"i never said such a thing!"

at the sight of his pout, you had sprawled yourself on top of him, planting a kiss on his nose as he looked down at you with a smile.

"i love you, too, el."

elliott sighs, his head falling forward into his hand. one part of him wishes to hear you utter those words again; the other prays he'll one day forget you ever said them.

the first few seasons after the wedding had been dreamlike — elliott had never felt so full of life before. it was like being with you had opened his eyes to how colorful and bright the world could be. sometimes he would wake up before you and admire your sleeping figure, a soft smile appearing on his lips every time he caught a glimpse of your necklace.

he doesn't remember when the spark began to fade, though.

no, he only recalls the days he began to leave the farm early in the morning to spend time alone in his old cabin on the beach, coming back only for dinner. the two of you would eat quietly, sitting at opposite ends of the table. he would ask and answer questions shortly, mainly focusing on the dull, uninspiring feeling he seemed to get every time he was in your shared house.

he never noticed the sad look filling your eyes, begging him to pay attention to you, to show you the love he once had for you. he paid no mind to how your face lit up every time he came home, only to deflate as he walked past you. he never even thought about how your conversations with him had turned one-sided, as he would spill his troubles to you without even giving you a chance to share yours.

not until it was too late, that is.

". . . do you still love me?"

it was a question he never thought he would hear from you, and yet he'd unknowingly driven you to that point. elliott had never heard silence so loud until then, realizing that, for some reason, he couldn't answer your question.

"answer me, elliott," you'd said, voice wavering as he uneasily met your eyes. "i need to know this. i feel like you've been treating me like a kid lately — when i talk to you, i can barely get a word out without you lecturing me. you're barely home to even do that anymore."

he scoffed. "please, y/n, be reasonable," he had replied, the same words he had said that night after professing his love to you. "i've simply been a bit caught up lately, that's all. i need my own time to write."

"seriously? that's what you're going to say?" you shook your head, crossing your arms as you looked at him pleadingly. "why are you acting like this? do you seriously think being a bit older than me justifies how you've been treating me?"

"that has nothing to do with our situation," he snapped sharply, then sighed. "please, can we go to bed? i'm tired of this." he started towards the bedroom door, leaving you behind him.

"you never answered my question."

he stopped.

"it's okay, el," you'd whispered. "i had a feeling i already knew. i was just hoping you would at least be able to tell me."

so now, here he is. unable to finish the sequel to his novel because he'd dedicated the first one to you, and what's the point of writing a second one if you're no longer by his side?

what's the point if you have sebastian now, who spends every second with you? who is much younger than him and rides a motorcycle? who gives you a mermaid's pendant — a year after the two of you separated, by the way — and makes sure the entire town can make it to your wedding?

he doesn't know what you see in him. sure, his passion for music is a bit admirable, but can he really treat you properly? there's no way seb can make you smile, make you laugh, make you cry out of pure joy or pleasure like he did.

elliott had attended the wedding, of course, so he could make sure you were happy.

he most certainly wasn't hoping to see a twinge of hesitation, maybe even regret in your eyes as you walked down the aisle again.

as elliott abandons his writing and heads out the doorway of his cabin, the image of you happier than he'd ever seen you while passionately kissing sebastian is burned into his mind.

you are no longer his, and it's entirely his fault.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Five

Summary: Taehyung gets careless and breaks your heart yet again. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 4.7K~ Warnings: Implied yändere and mentions of signs of trauma because of it. (nothing too extreme) a/n: It's taken me so long to get this chapter out I'm sorryyy but I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you so much for your continued support on my stories and I hope you'll look forward to the next part!

Jungkook's visit last week really had me thinking about the choices I make on the daily. 

I stopped stressing about what Taehyung might be doing when he's away and started thinking about ways I could improve myself.

It wasn't anything major but I wanted to take baby steps.

For instance, setting up a schedule for when I wake up and always making sure to not stay up past midnight. Along with promising myself to at least sit and write for a couple of hours per day but also taking breaks when I felt I needed to. I would come back though and finish only when I was satisfied and came to a proper stopping point.

Implementing these little changes in my life has worked wonders on my confidence and peace of mind. I feel like I'm accomplishing something and getting some sort of fulfillment in the day to day which I haven't been able to say for the past few years.

I guess all of this can be chalked up to Jungkook. 

I know I'm ultimately the one who's implemented these things into my life but if he hadn't given me that push, I don't think I would've ever gotten to even see these small victories.

While I'm in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee I hear a faint chime on my laptop and I smile knowing exactly who it is.

'Good morning Noona, did you sleep well?'  I read from the all too familiar jkjkjk.97  and smile seeing that my suspicions were correct.

'I slept like a baby, who knew going to bed before dawn would do wonders!'  I send back and when I try to stand up to walk back over to the kitchen I'm met with another email popping up from him.

'That's good! I'm happy to see that you're feeling a bit better these days :)'  he sends and I smile at the fact that he's just as eager to reply to me. It's been like this ever since that day he dropped off my groceries. He would send me emails first thing in the morning almost like clockwork.

I'm surprised that he manages to keep a similar schedule to mine but I don't really know what he does most days except work. 

I know he works at the grocery store but it seems to me like he's always working at odd hours. Most days even well past closing so it's got me thinking about what else he could possibly do for a living.

It's none of my business but I can't help but be curious about it since when I ask him how his day went, he usually says he's still working even though it seems like he's been working since dawn. 

I really want to ask him but I don't want to pry. He seems like the kind of guy that keeps to himself and open up when he's ready. 

I'm just hoping that there will come a day where he'll trust me as much as I have grown to trust him.

My thought process his interrupted by the sound of keys jingling in the door and my heart sinks to my stomach when I'm brought back to reality.

"Hey baby" Taehyung greets while taking off his shoes. It's Saturday so he doesn't have work which means he might be hanging around here for a while before no doubt heading out again. 

"Hey" I respond quietly, feeling as though I'm retreating back into myself, not really being able to relax until I know what kind of headspace he's in.

"Where's my welcome home kiss from my gorgeous wife?" he asks while walking over to where I'm sitting at my desk. He leans down and kisses me on the lips, moulding his mouth against mine while I crane my neck up and return the kiss, placing a hand on his cheek to keep him connected.

"Welcome home" I let out after he pulls back, panting slightly as he nudges his nose against mine before standing up straight again. "Have you been up long?" he asks, him having gone out late last night and surprisingly turning up here again bright and early.

I hum in acknowledgment, "I've been waking up earlier these days so I can get a jump start on my writing and trying to go to bed earlier" I respond while watching his back as he walks over to the kitchen.

"Oh really? How's that going?" he questions, pouring himself a cup of coffee and walking back into the living room, waiting patiently for my answer. 

"Well it's been nice to implement a bit of a routine since my days and nights have kind of been all over the place for a while. Plus, I feel like this story is really coming along. I even started mapping out ideas for the next book in the series!" I say and he looks at me as if he's almost falling in love with me again, making me shy under his gaze.

"That's amazing honey. I feel like I haven't seen you smiling like this in a really long time. Looks like all you needed was a little discipline to really get your life back together huh?" he say while giving me a knowing look, cocking his head to the side and letting his eyes roam my body for a second. No doubt looking at the faint bruises he'd left from last week.

"I guess so" I say, awkwardly rubbing my bicep where he had grabbed me. "How are you feeling?" he questions, coming a bit closer and ghosting his fingers over the marks. "I'm fine, they don't hurt as much anymore" I say, slipping my arm out if his grasp.

"That's good, I'm sorry I got a little rough with you. I was frustrated with some work stuff and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair of me" he apologizes while brushing the hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. "It's okay" I say quietly, looking down at the floor to avoid his gaze. 

"No, it's not okay" he says tilting my chin up and making me make eye contact.

"I haven't been treating you well and I wanna make it up to you" he says, caressing my face with the hand that he used to tilt my chin up. "Okay" I whisper as he leans down to connect our lips again but before they're able to touch his phone rings. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone and the name Tiffany flashes across the screen with a kiss emoji at the end, giving me a name to associate as to why he's actually never home. 

"I've gotta take this" he says and I nod my head to show I don't mind even though my heart is breaking more and more with each ring. He gives me a quick kiss to apologize before answering the call and walking into the kitchen. 

I take that as a sign that he'll be leaving for the night again and head into the bathroom since it's the one place he won't question as to why I've shut him out. I close the lid of the toilet and cover my ears so I can't hear him but curiosity gets the best of me and I hold my breath to see if I can make any words out despite my whole motives of coming here in the first place.

"No I ca-. Well I just got here I-. Okay, okay fine I'm coming. Let me just come up with an excuse to tell her and I'll be there soon. Okay? Alright, love you too. Bye" I hear him say and he ends the call. I cover my mouth, trying to stop any sounds of heartbreak that might come out and listen as he walks down the hall to our room. 

"Y/n? Honey where are you?" he asks, barely bothering to look for me. "I'm in here" I say, turning on the sink to drown out the sound a bit to prevent him from hearing how wobbly my voice sounds from the emotions I'm trying to keep at bay. 

"I've gotta head out for the day but I'll be back tomorrow night. You gonna be okay?" he asks as if he cared about me. "Yeah I'll be fine don't worry, I'll see you then" I yell above the sound and he says a quick goodbye through the door in return and leaves soon after. 

Once I hear the front door close I let some of those choked sobs go.

He's never been that obvious before. Does he just not bother to hide since he sees that I don't question him about it? I don't even know why I still care since it's very clear that he doesn't care about me.

At that I look at my phone and see that there's another email from Jungkook that came in a little while ago which gives me motivation enough to dry my eyes and get myself together so I can head back out to my laptop and get lost in this safe haven we've created for each other. 

'Did you forget about me already?'  he questions, seeing as it has taken me a while to respond. I couldn't risk doing it and Taehyung finding out about us. Even though there is no 'us' when it comes to Jungkook and I, unlike that Tiffany girl he just left me for today.

'I'm sorry Taehyung came home. He just left though...'  I send and get a response back immediately, seeing he's been waiting for my response.

'Are you okay? Did something happen?'  he asks and I smile at the thought that there is someone out there that cares enough to ask. 

We've been emailing each other everyday since he came over and I've opened up to him a bit more about my relationship with Tae and he's been really good at just letting me talk and just being there for me. Always talking me through things and helping me process no matter if it's problems with Tae or even other more mundane things like writer's block. 

He's just there, no matter what.

'Can we meet up today?' I type out but hesitate, letting my hand hover over the mouse. 

Watching, waiting, worrying about if this would be a good idea but before making that decision myself I accidentally hit send when I try to put my hand down to rest it on my lap. 

"Shit" I say out loud but before I can figure out how to unsend the message I get a response back. 

'Sure :) Did you want to meet at the Blue Pearl? Or should I come over?'  he asks and I hold my breath, weighing the pros and cons to this whole situation and decide to just say fuck it and do what I want for once. 

'Can you come over?'  I send and close my laptop, too nervous to look at his reply. "What the fuck am I doing inviting a younger guy to my apartment when my husband is gone? What am I doing?" I say out loud and pace back and forth until I hear the chime come from my phone this time. 

'Be there soon :)'  "I'm fucked" I admit out loud before running around and quickly getting myself and the house ready.

 ~~~~~

A rhythmic pattern of knocks plays and puts my mind at ease while I walk towards the door and open it. 

"Noona!" he greets with a smile before giving me a hug that catches me off guard making me take a step back to help me stay balanced. "Thank you for coming" I say while returning his embrace and letting go a second later so I can step aside to let him in. 

"Are you okay?" he asks after having taken off his shoes and taken in my form to what I don't realize is to look for any signs of harm. "Yes I'm fine" I say with a sad smile yet know for a fact that even if I try to deny it he can read me like a book. 

"Then why were you crying?" he asks, looking at my red eyes and flushed cheeks. "I heard Tae talking to one of the girls he's cheating on me with" I mumble and at that Jungkook takes my hand and leads me over to the couch without saying a word.

"He didn't even try hard to hide it. Like he has a stupid kiss emoji next to her name and everything. He had only been here for like twenty minutes tops before he left" I spill out. He keeps a hold of my hand, looking down at it while I let out all the things I've been holding in. 

The worries, the doubts, the fear, the stress. I don't know when it started and I can't figure out how to make it stop. 

"I don't know what to do" I admit, looking down at my lap, watching as the tears fall from my eyes and onto the fabric of my jeans. 

"Do you want me to be honest and tell you what I think or do you want me to just listen?" he asks, rubbing circles on the back of my hand. "Be honest?" I pose almost as a question, knowing this is the ugly truth I've been hiding from. 

"Can you tell me more than one reason as to why you should stay with him? Besides him being your husband" he asks, sitting silently and waiting for me to respond, giving me time to think it through but when I shake my head he goes forward with posing his argument. 

"If you can't manage to come up with a reason as to why you should stay with him then what's keeping you from leaving? I know you said that you're scared and you don't know what to do but the fact that you're not doing anything is hurting you more than if you decided to leave him" he states, I just nod my head and listen, letting him say his piece.

"He's hurting you. He's hurting you physically" he says while ghosting his fingers along the bruises that run up my arm, "Mentally" he continues brushing the hair off of my face and rubbing his thumb up against my temple "And sexually" he finishes, taking note of the hickeys and the way I flinch away from him when he tries to lay his hand on my neck. 

"That's just how Taehyung is, he likes things rough" I say, making excuses for the marks that are clearly beyond rough sex. 

"But do you like it?" he questions, catching me off guard with an intimacy of the question. "He keeps me satisfied if that's what you mean" I answer curtly, hoping he'll take that as an answer. 

"That's not what I asked. Do you enjoy the way he has sex with you? Is that how you want to have sex?" he continues, not backing down from getting an answer out of me. I look up at him to see if he's seriously asking me that question and all I can see is a serious expression on his face.

"I don't mind it" I say, dancing around my answer. "Noona" he warns in a tone of voice he's never used with me, catching me off guard. 

"N-no. No I don't like it. It's too rough for me and I don't like it" I admit. He nods, casting his eyes down as if he's lost in thought before asking his next question. "Have you ever told him?" he questions and I shake my head only to realize moments later that he can't see me. "No I haven't told him" I respond quietly and he nods again before looking back up at me. 

"Why?" he asks and I'm left with one answer. "Because I'm afraid of what he might do to me if I say no" I explain. "I figure it's better to say yes and take it instead of saying no and having him force himself on me" I cover my mouth not realizing the fact that I said the thing that I was even too afraid to admit to myself.

"Has he ever forced himself on you?" he asks while clenching his jaw, clearly upset at the thought. "I didn't tell him no but I tried to make him see that I didn't want it but he didn't care to pay attention" I answer, getting rid of the filter seeing as it won't do either of us any good if I were to hold back. 

"That's one of the many reasons that you shouldn't even be with him anymore" he starts, his whole body tense, anger just bubbling under the surface. "You shouldn't have to be with someone you're scared of. I just don't kno-" 

"That's just it, you don't know. You told me that before, that I shouldn't be with someone that I'm scared of but you just don't get it. You've never been married. You've never had to deal with struggles like this. You make it sound so easy, that I could just leave and never look back but it's not that simple" I spout off, defending myself and my decisions. 

"Noona I just want to he-" "I know, I know" I say cutting him off but gaining a softer tone at the end, shrinking back into myself, ridding myself of my defensive behavior. "I'm sorry Jungkook, I shouldn't have said that. I asked you to come over and then I just yelled at you and I just..." I trail off, hating myself for doing that to him.

He tilts my head up and looks at me, studying my features and I cast my eyes down, too nervous to maintain his strong gaze. "Look at me" he says in a soft tone but I keep my eyes down, focused on my hands that I have balled into fists. 

"Look at me, please..." he whispers and at that I decide to do as he says and I see how his eyes have glossed over, the stars in them wavering. "He doesn't deserve you" he whispers cupping my face, running his thumb along my cheekbone to brush off a tear that I didn't even realize had fallen. 

"I don't know what to do" I let out in a choked sob, letting the tears that I've been holding in fall, never letting myself cry enough to feel better. He pulls me in and I latch onto him, burring my face into his shoulder as he holds onto me tighter, further showing me that I'm safe with him. 

"Whatever you need I'm here for you. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it" he says, the deep rumble of his voice brings me comfort. "I-" I start but cut myself off with another sob. "It's okay, just let it all out" he says and cling to him harder. 

After having sat there and cried with him for what felt like hours my sobs slowly die down to sniffles and my breathing patterns return to normal. "You okay?" he questions, more so asking if I had finished crying versus how I'm feeling about my current reality. I nod my head but nuzzle in closer to him, not wanting to let go just yet. 

"What's wrong?" he questions. "I don't want you to see my face" I complain into his shirt and he laughs at (from his perspective) how adorable I am. "Aw come on why not?" he chuckles and I nuzzle my face into his neck, making skin to skin contact without paying any mind to it. "My face is probably all red and my eyes are puffy from crying" I mumble against his neck. 

His body goes stiff but I don't take too much notice and move a bit closer to him, not realizing how I'm making him feel and only realize it after he clears his throat a few times. "Is something wrong?" I ask finally taking in how uncomfortable he seems. 

"No, nothing's wrong I just- no it's nothing" he says trying to backpedal out of this. "It's obviously something if you're reacting like that" I press, wanting him to be as truthful with me as I have been with him. 

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" I say, pulling away from him. "No! Noona no, it's just that. Your lips were on my neck and you were really close and..." he trails off, hoping that's explanation enough. 

"I didn't even realize I was doing that, I'm sorry..." I trail off as well, hating that I made this situation even more awkward than it already is. "It's okay Noona I just, well I just want to make sure we don't cross a line and it was making it hard for me to do so" he explains.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, wanting to know exactly what he's thinking. "It's just, well you're married and I think you know that I'm attracted to you by now so it was just making it hard for me to think straight" he admits and I nod my head and look down at my lap, not really knowing how I'm supposed to respond. 

"I hope this doesn't change things between us. I really do want to be your friend but I understand if I've made you uncomfortable. I just thought you should know" he finishes and waits with bated breath for my response. 

"Would things be different?" I question, not fully asking the question since I'm not sure if I want to know the answer. "Would things be different if what?" he presses. "Would things be different if I wasn't married?" I ask and I close my eyes, scared of seeing his reaction. 

"You can't just ask me that" he says and I look up at him to see his face turned away, showing how pink the tips of his ears have gotten and how his jaw is clenching. "Why not?" I press, needing to know based off of the kind of reaction he's giving me. 

"You don't know how hard I've been holding myself back" he says and tongues his cheek, making me widen my eyes at the motion. "Holding yourself back from what?" I press further, needing to know what's running through his mind right now. 

"From kissing you" he says, finally looking back at me, making eye contact before his eyes flicker down to my lips. "I-" "I should go" he says, cutting me off before I can say anything further. "Wait, no you don't have to go. I'm sorry" I say, trying my best to keep him here. I can't let him just run off after a confession like that but he's giving me no other option as I watch him stand up. 

"You have nothing to apologize for Noona. I shouldn't have said that. I do have to go though, my family is waiting for me back at home" he says and I widen my eyes, never having heard him talk about his family as of yet. 

"Family?" I question, my curiosity peaked. "Yeah I live with my mom and my three siblings" he says while walking over to put his shoes on. "Three?" I question and he nods his head not bothering to give me much more than that. 

"That's a topic of conversation for another time though" he says after he stands back up from tying his laces. "Oh okay" I say and hug myself, providing myself some comfort, hating to see him rushing out of here already. 

"They really are waiting for me. My mom has to work tonight so I'm stuck taking care of the kiddos" he says, giving me a soft smile before turning to open the door and I follow behind him. 

"Let me know when you get home okay?" I say, leaning up against the door frame. "I will" he says and reaches out to pull me in for a hug, accepting it right away. 

"I still want you in my life so please, don't disappear" I mumble into his chest and he hums in acknowledgment. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Not after I fought for that title of best friend" he says pulling back and looking down at me fondly and I smile back up at him before he places a hand on the side of my neck and leans down to place a kiss on my forehead.

"Bye Noona" he says, giving me a soft smile. I smile back up at him and return his sentiment before he turns to walk away.

I watch as he goes, waiting for him to get in his car where he looks back up towards my apartment, not expecting to see me waiting for him but smiles when he does. I smile back and wave and watch as he pulls out of his spot and makes his way out of the parking lot. 

"I'm really fucked" I mumble to myself and turn to walk inside my apartment. 

"He gets more and more handsome each time I see that young man" Mrs. Mitchell says, making me jolt back from the scare of being caught. 

"Mrs. Mitchell we didn't-" I start but she waves me off. "You don't need to make excuses to me love. Like I said last time, I wouldn't blame you if you did" she says and places a hand on my arm, noticing all the mixed emotions I have written all over my face. 

"Why don't we change the subject and have you sign those books we had spoken about the other day" she says, turning to walk towards the stack she had waiting by her front door like she had told me she would. 

I smile at her enthusiasm for my writing and and am thankful that she doesn't address what had happened between Jungkook and I anymore. 

"There you go" I say putting the cap on the pen and handing the last book back to her. "Thank you dear! The girls are going to love these!" she says placing the books back in their place. "Girls?" I question, chuckling at her reaction, so happy a simple thing like this could make her happy. 

"Yeah! The other women in my book club. I recommended your books to them and they've been begging me to get them a signed copy from you ever since" she says, turning back to face me. "Well I hope they enjoy them!" I reply happily, embarrassed still that woman of their age are reading it but thankful nonetheless. 

"We're all meeting together here next Sunday so maybe if you're not too busy writing you could stop by and have tea with us. I just know they would love to meet you!" she says, practically glowing with excitement. 

"I'll have to get back to you on that one but it sounds lovely" I smile, my heart swelling at the thought of meeting some of my readers. "Wonderful! But I'll let you get back to your day dear. Make sure to set aside some time to take care of yourself and relax tonight okay? You deserve it" she says placing a comforting hand on my arm before we both go our separate ways. 

As I close the door behind me I'm met with that all too familiar chime and I walk over to my desk, this time a bit more tentative than before, being nervous as to what I might find from my familiar friend jkjkjk.97

Home :) is all he sends but I decide to respond, nervous of the result if I don't, scared that he might shut me out or fade away.

Have fun with the kiddos tonight! And thank you for coming today, it really meant a lot to me  I send back, hoping to make things sound normal.

Anytime, let's see each other again soon. Okay?  he asks and I can tell he's waiting earnestly for a response. 

Okay. This time at The Blue Pearl so we can say 'Hi' to Rae. I miss her :(   I say, hoping that he won't take that as a way of me keeping him from coming over when I really do miss Rae. 

The Pearl it is! Goodnight Noona he says, ending the conversation early tonight, no doubt having a lot to do to manage three kids for the night. 

Goodnight Jungkook  I send and close my laptop, vowing to do as I had agreed upon and take the rest of the day to take care of myself. 

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[galazry]

Till Death Do Us Part

pairing: Wanderer x gn!reader genre: fluff...? content: Just like they said, "until death do us part." word count: 654 a/n: sooo... have you guys heard the song "Until Death Do Us Part :)"? if you haven't, i totally recommend it. It's a very nice song. It is also the inspiration for this drabble. you know, tags are really important, huh?

As the music slows down, all heads turn to face the end of the hall. The mahogany doors swung open to reveal you clad in white. Everyone awed at how magnificent you looked. The brightest smile, that could light up the entire world, adorns your face. How could you not when today was the day you were to be wed with your beloved?

Wanderer stood there, his indigo eyes watch as you slowly walked down the aisle. You had always looked so magnificent in his eyes, but today takes the cake. A bouquet of roses, orchids, and jasmines nestled in your hands, though beautiful, it didn't compare to how beautiful you were. God, you really took his breath away.

The crowd of people slowly disappeared in his view as his eyes zones in on you, You were like the precious jewel in the crowd, so perfect, so wonderful. With each step you took, Wanderer remembers all the time he had spent with you, his best friend— all the laughter and joy you both shared, the ups and downs, the tears and secrets you both shared— all lead to this very moment. The yellow tulip in his pocket droops a bit, before he hastily fixes it. It was a special day, so even the littlest mishaps must be corrected. He wants to look perfect, after all.

Once you reach the end of the aisle, he let out the breath that he didn't know he had been holding. He felt faint seeing you up close as he felt tears pricking his eyes. The pastor's words fall onto deaf ears and Wanderer could only hear both his heart beating, and the soft giggles you let out.

The images of waking up by your side every morning and falling asleep with you in his arms every night; The way that you both would be spending all your time together, being each other's anchor, for the rest of your life. Images of you both sitting on the porch, as the sun sets on the horizon, the light refracting off your silver-like hair. Wrinkles on both of your faces and yet the love you both shared was still fresh.

"Do you [Y/N], take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

The words of the pastor brought Wanderer back to reality as he focused on your face. How he would treasure the bright smile you have right now, forever imprinting it into his brain as his favourite smile of yours.

"I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounced you both, spouses for life. You may now both kiss."

The crowd cheered as the bells rung. Wanderer can't help but to let the tears that he had been holding back flow down his cheeks as he sees the love of his life kissing another man who had managed to make you his.

You both looked so happy.

All the scenarios he had imagined with you came shattering down. He won't be the one to wake up by your side. He won't be the one you build your life with for the rest of your life. He won't be the one to dance with you in the kitchen, listening to old sappy music, while the dim light makes your silver hair glisten. Wanderer just wished that he was the one that you chose to spend all your life with, but he couldn't blame you. It was his fault for keeping his feelings a secret and now, it was all too late and you will never know much affection he has for you.

Even so, just like he had promised under the moonlight, on that one summer day, he'll stick by your side.

Just as a best friend.

Until death do us part.

[selya711-twiste]

hope you’re doing well 🙏 do you have any thoughts or hcs on how rollo would flirt?? 😳

Oh do I.

how rollo would flirt...

...He doesn't seem like someone who'd call anything he does with good intentions "flirting."

I don't think Rollo has ever imagined he'd pursue a romantic relationship with anyone (or anything intimate with another person in general.) Rollo's knowledge of courting seems very textbook, thus he never thought of applying what he learned to himself and forgone the idea of ever performing such rituals.

When he finds himself drawn to a person... It starts slow. Not even Rollo himself is aware of it at first.

If you're a student at Noble Bell College, regardless of your standing or what you've done to gain his attention, he would always offer to lend a helping hand with anything that concerns you. Sometimes he assists you with your studies, on other days you're chatting about things that interest you two like the sights in the city and daily occurrences in the school.

If you're the prefect of Ramshackle dorm who he met during the three-day trip to the City of Flowers, it would be more evident to Rollo the speed at which he developed feelings of fondness for you. You don't have a lot of time away from the other NRC students unless you slink out, which is Rollo's opportunity to come to see you away from their lingering eyes.

He's already busy as the student council president, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have time for others. Though it may appear like simple, passing conversations, the words he tells you are meaningful and make you feel cherished.

The baked goods from the local bakery in the city are his go-to, and he shares them with you. With the matter of money, you want to pay him back but he declines... He treats you every time they have something fresh.

Traditional gestures like bouquets of flowers and handwritten letters are reserved for when you two have established something. For now, this is the language the two of you shared. You two have become like close friends, whether or not you're aware of the favoritism you might be receiving.

It's known across the campus that Rollo is someone who keeps to himself. It's either you're the one who notices how close he has become with you lately, or someone else brings it up to you.

When Rollo himself notices how fond he's become of you, he'll simply say he's doing his duties. The longer this goes on, however, he'll scoff, look away with a handkerchief to his lips, and then tell himself that it's nothing noteworthy. He'll deny his feelings for you, but this act alone seals his fate.

The time he spends with you is well within the confines of his schedule. He can't dare risk his grades or responsibilities even for you, but that means he's dedicating his free time to be with you.

The Noble Bell students he dutifully looks after haven't caught on to his blooming feelings, fortunately. They think it's nice that the president is taking steps to have companions, so no teasing here. The last thing they'd want is to disrespect Rollo, after all.

He would feel his heart skip a beat if one day you were the one looking for him and asking around for his whereabouts, all of his schoolmates kindly leading you to him.

When it comes to that point, I do think Rollo is going to take forever to confess- if he even wants to admit there's something to confess. He'll obsess with the object of his affection for a while and, as lightly as possible, think they're the problem. He's the one who looked forward to seeing you, but over time he's now thinking you're the one who somehow hexed him, whether or not you had the magic for it.

So, he has affection for you that he does not know what to do with.

It's almost endearing, actually.

Between the assistance he provides you, the solemn promises, the fresh croissants you share together, and the warmth between you two no matter the season...

You're the key figure in getting him out of his head.

Are you going to reciprocate his feelings, or continue this game of cat and mouse?

[kazuyummy]

🎡 DAIYA NO ACE & READER:  AMUSEMENT PARK EDITION !

you're going to your local carnival together - so what sort of activities will your date be filled with?

‎‎

R O L L E R C O A S T E R S

these adventurous boys are all about thrill and excitement (even if it may not show outwardly for some of them at first!), and you can't help but get caught up in it. whether you're screaming your lungs out or perfectly calm on a roller coaster, he'll be holding your hand the entire time. when they show your pictures at the end, he'll get a copy and keep it as his wallpaper before he finds another fun ride for you to take on together.

➤ umemiya seiichi, kuramochi yoichi, isashiki jun, shirasu kenjiro

C A R N I V A L G A M E S

guess who'll be that one person carrying around a pile of giant stuffed animals all over the park? that's right - you (of course, he'll offer to carry them all once he's done winning all the games). he's determined to show off in front of you despite the fact that the games are rigged, and whether or not he's a pitcher, you bet he'll want to try knocking down those milk bottles. he'll spoil you with all the cotton candy and treats you want as you take in the bright lights and excitement of the crowd with him by your side.

➤ narumiya mei, furuya satoru, yuki tetsuya, maki yosuke

F E R R I S W H E E L

what's better than a scenic view with your date? a view high up in the air, of course - this classic romantic ride won't get your heart racing from adrenaline, but from the intimacy of being so close with your carnival date. he'll hold your hand and point things out with the other - the setting sun and stars twinkling into view; the neon lights of the stalls below; the way the fireflies flicker in the shadows of trees. he watches you as you stare in awe at the sights, leaning forward slightly and mouth agape. and cliché as it is, he can't see anything out there more beautiful than you.

➤ shirakawa katsuyuki, kominato haruichi, kawakami norifumi, takigawa chris yu, matsubara nao

B O U N C Y C A S T L E

your date knows how to have fun and live life to the fullest. a bouncy castle is the perfect excuse to tease you - when you fall, he'll keep jumping higher as your lungs fill with laughter and he eventually helps you up, promising to hold you and not let you fall again. any inflatable ride? you're on that - zipping down the giant slide holding hands, racing each other on the obstacle course - touchy as a pair of young lovers who can't keep their hands off each other. you'll cool off with some colourful slushies or soda floats, and he'll get you the cutest little balloon animal to top off such a perfect day.

➤ todoroki raichi, hideaki tojo, nagao akira, sawamura eijun, kanemaru shinji

W A T E R R I D E S

your date is a bit more unpredictable - what's next? the splashing log ride? the tunnel of love? a paddleboat or lazy river? there's something about being by the water with you that he can't resist. first, something cooperative - you'll be paddling together, maybe some friendly bickering depending on the guy, but you're sure to have a lot of laughs along the way. next, something to get your adrenaline up - the log flume where you both get soaked and sit a bit in the sun to dry off. and last, an easygoing boat ride, where he looks deeply into your eyes and tells you what an amazing time he's had with you.

➤ kamiya carlos toshiki, amahisa kosei, miyuki kazuya, okumura koshu, masamune hongo

B U M P E R C A R S

get ready for a bit of friendly competition with this one - he'll be the one that rams into you every chance he gets, but absolutely terrorize anyone else who thinks they can bump into you. you'll have fun spinning around and trying to catch him by surprise, but he's always looking for you among the loud screams and chaotic cars. when the ride powers down, he's there right away, helping you out and catching you when you trip and lean a little too far into his chest. while waiting in line, he'll make playful bets like who most people are gonna target that round, and he might even sneak in a quick kiss on your cheek before you get in the car...

➤ sanada shunpei, watanabe hisashi, kominato ryosuke, yuki masashi, harada masatoshi

hi friends, hope you enjoyed this one! let me know what you'd be doing and with which character! once again, let me know if i missed anyone that you wanna see... though i added a few more. this is a bit of a short one, but just tryna warm up my writing again!

all images from unsplash, dividers from saradika

[childotkw]

go on. tell me more about the orphaned at 8 years old au

Harry - Hadrian, his name is Hadrian now - is three months into his first term at Beauxbatons when he gets called into the Headmistress' office. He sits on a chair too big for him, little feet dangling off the floor, surrounded by people he doesn't know, and is told by a woman with a gentle voice that his mother is dead.

An illness, he's told. It was very sudden. She didn't suffer.

He's only eight years old, and so very small, and now he's all alone. His mother has been his entire world up until this point, the only person he could trust, the only one he knew would protect him, and now...

Now he's an orphan.

The knowledge is a brand across his soul.

There are conversations after that, some he's there for and many he's not - about what to do with him, who would look after him, where he could live.

Hadrian drifts through the days in a haze, his future unravelling right in front of his eyes.

How was he supposed to kill Voldemort now?

His classmates and professors all treat him like spun glass, delicate and seconds from breaking. It's irritating and a constant reminder of what he's lost, and Hadrian finds himself pouring over his memories of his mother, to keep something of her close to his heart.

Over the coming months, he's told he'll be taken to an orphanage when the year ends. He's told it's a lovely place, warm, with a kindly man that will look after him. He's told that is where he will live from now on.

Hadrian decides then that he's really rather sick of people telling him what will happen to him, but he's too young to be by himself, so he puts his head down and accepts things for now.

Instead of stopping to think about the gapping hole in his heart, he throws himself into his studies, desperate to live up to his mother's expectations. Desperate to make her proud.

And for years, he does.

He's a brilliant student, driven, exceptional in whatever task he puts his mind to - but he's also odd. A little too intense, too caught up in his own head, to make friends. He's unsettling to his peers, and barely puts effort into maintaining relationships. He's obsessed with learning, with pushing himself, and that drive to be the best takes him down...darker paths.

He teaches himself magic, dives into obscure branches, things that might be considered...unnatural. And he eventually crosses a line not even his professors can forgive.

Hadrian is expelled from Beauxbatons, his wand snapped, and just as he's kicked out of the orphanage - just as he's on the verge of losing everything, someone comes to him.

A vampire finds him, a peculiar glint in his red eyes, and Hadrian is out of option. He accepts Erebus' hand without hesitation, because the promise of power is too hard to ignore, and Hadrian still needs to kill Voldemort.

Erebus, on his part, is quietly ecstatic that he managed to stumble across the Harry Potter on some random street.

The boy is alone and desperate and young, easily ready to be moulded. He's also adorably murderous, and Erebus is too much of a bastard to not take advantage of this opportunity.

His employment to his Lady has always been a matter of convenience, after all, and now that he's got direct access to little Hadrian, he finds it a simple enough choice to cut ties and move forward with his own plans.

[aestheticitii]

hair clip.

when the castle was reduced to nothing but rubble, had it still been there? [líf/kiran] content tags: slight angst(?) notes: writing for líf is hard because i want him to smooch the summoner but i don't want him to smooch alfonse's summoner so all i can do is make him sad. also endings are hard

nestled into the palm of his hand is a small, rectangular box, dark blue in color and lacking any extra embellishments. his fingers curl over its slightly curved surface, their tips resting just barely above where his thumb sits at the lid's end.

the identity of its content is obvious to him. though the specifics might be different from his own experience, there is still a younger version of himself walking around the castle with a golden hair clip keeping his bangs out of his face.

a similar gift for him, by the estimates of someone who knows kiran well, is to be expected.

how did that go the first time again?

it seemed like your hair was bothering you.

"on one, two...three!" as its gifter's command, he opens the box to reveal a silver hair clip—a rectangular piece composed of tiny jewel leafs. "it seemed like your hair was bothering you. so...i got you this!"

so...this is for you.

a smile of some sort accompanies her entire performance. at first, a cheery one, mimicking the false cheeriness she injects into her first words; it then melts into something shy, more in line with the careful, uncertain note she ends on.

"do you like it?"

i hope you like it.

dark brown eyes shift from the hair clip to his face—once, twice, seemingly intent on repeating the gesture for however long he remains silent. a thick strand of dark hair, dyed golden because of the sun's warmth—or rather, what manages to make it through the clouds dotted across the sky—spills loose from its restraint.

was it a braid? was her hair always so short?

i think it'll look good on you,

kiran steps forward to the tune of her own exhale. concern softens her eyes and tugs the corners of her lips down ever so slightly. his free hand longs to cup her cheek, so that she'll close her eyes and lean into his touch—and so she'll remember that he'll always trust her judgement.

instead, her fingers graze his cheek hesitantly.

was her touch always so warm?

she says his name.

alfonse.

"líf?"

the beautiful illusion shatters. in place of his wife stands a younger girl who wears her face and guards her heart, and who commands the same love and affection from him, no matter how much he tries to resist.

"your expression," he mumbles.

it's the same.

"hmm?" she retracts her hand in a hurry, as if it is his skin that burns instead of the other way around, and wraps her arms around herself. "sorry. you seemed out of it."

with his gaze still focused on her, he murmurs, "i had one...before. this..."

regret floods his veins the moment he comprehends his words.

"a hair clip? why—oh." her curiosity withers away and leaves behind a saddened expression on his face, one that makes his heart both ache and preen. "i'm sorry. i noticed your hair—and alfonse..."

the blue-haired man looks down, his hair partially obscuring his gaze. "i was just remembering it. i haven't seen it in a long time."

a useless apology lies in wait on the tip of his tongue. without knowing the exact cause of its existence, líf swallows it back down; the hazy, half-realized thoughts he has about it lead him down a river of memories he hasn't visited in a long time.

kiran's muffled laughter, from the day he lost the hair clip, interrupted briefly by their unborn child's vicious desire to remain relevant in the current setting, rings clear in his mind—as does the sound of his daughter's tantrums, and the quiet, sullen way she promised to find the hair clip she haphazardly hid in the royal library.

when the castle was reduced to nothing but rubble, had it still been there?

a warm hand on his shoulder distracts him from his current thoughts. líf covers it with his own, much cooler hand, the result of being a member of the undead; gently, he squeezes it, then looks up at her, hoping the look on his face conveys nothing about his earlier thoughts.

her expression flickers.

"you don't have to wear it. just...know that, okay?" she says finally, holding up her hand preemptively to prevent him arguing with her. the hand he's been keeping cool begins to move, and as he releases it, it grasps his hand and returns his earlier gesture. "and...i'll see you around."

kiran loosens her grasp on his hand and slides her hand out, letting it fall to her side. lips quirking into a terribly awkward smile, set on the backdrop of an expression torn between determined and embarrassed, she turns around and begins to leave.

he watches silently until her form disappears from his view, his gift still in hand. his fingers press down on the lid, then curl tightly over the box.

"you'd like me to wear it, wouldn't you?" the blue-haired man asks, to a dead woman, looking contemplatively at where her younger self once stood.

"if it's from you too, i think...i'd like to wear it."

[neewtmas]

aaaalright let's do this

they set up their agency together??? this is off to a great start

the biscuits!! (can't help but think about cam holding the giant one lmao)

the way you describe their dynamic is beautiful, makes me wana start an agency with him

“True, but it's a lot of wasted time if we don't. Why don't we split up and take a floor each?”

no no noooo bad idea bad idea BAD IDEA

“Promise.” You leant forward and placed your lips delicately on his.

don't let this be their last words to each other🥹

It was one he'd bought for you, a small pink gemstone in a heart shape on a simple silver chain. His promise to always love and protect you. Not a day had gone by since that you didn't wear it.

if Anthony Lockwood does one thing, it's gifting precious necklaces to the women he loves (it's very adorable tho)

His only condition was that if the Source was more likely to be upstairs, that would be where he'd look.

🫠🫠🫠

You lunged towards your rapier. The Visitor lunged towards you.

shit shit shit shit

Through the fog of pain that had suddenly engulfed your brain you heard Anthony, close by now, yelling your name. You had to go to him. He'd know what to do. Everything would be okay.

He always knows what to do😭😭

The blue had spread across your chest, and the little pink heart stood out starkly against it. “I'm so sorry, my darling,” Lockwood said softly. He choked back a sob as he leant down, placing a kiss into your hair. You wanted to do the same, to speak to him, to do anything.

not the necklace 😭😭😭and he'll never get to kiss you again🥲🥲

There was something in his hand, balanced carefully on the tips of his fingers: a necklace, with a little pink heart. A spark of recognition bloomed in the back of your mind. That was your necklace.

the way you describe what's it like to be a ghost??? perfection

just that slight familiarity but you don't really know and ahhh

also the necklace being the source🥹

What if you didn't recognise him and turned violent like so many Visitors?

oh that would be devastating oh god imagine having to fight the love of your life

I love how you show his grief here

What if you didn't because you didn't recognise anything, just hung there as a shadow of your former self? What if you did, and he had to live with putting you back in the case and removing you from his life all over again?

I'm gonna cry this is horrible

also think about how at some point he would lose his talent and then there wouldn't be any chance at communication😭😭😭🥲

The decision was made for him when a soft golden glow appeared in the corner of his bedroom. There you were. Tears welled in his eyes as the image of you sent him spiralling back to that day: your edges were a little fuzzy but everything else was the same, from your outfit to the scared look in your eye to the dark patch spreading from your shoulder.

the fact that the glow is soft and golden when it's always described as white/silver and cold might be my favourite part of this whole thing🥺🥹🥹

The sound reminded you of home, wherever that was. Things were still hazy, but part of you had a feeling this was it. Here, with this boy.

fucking hell😭😭

Nothing felt real because you weren't. You were just a Visitor.

merryyyyyyyy😭😭😭

him telling her about George arghhhh

Not only because you couldn't touch, but because deep down you knew that as much as you treasured being able to keep him in your life (or rather, afterlife), you had to let him go sooner or later and he needed to do the same with you.

the fact that you have to let go eventually and you know it's gonna have to be soon, that's so painful😭😭

It was a photo album, labelled in handwriting you recognised as your own. Page by page, he took you through your memories, giving you time to linger on each one: you as a baby, then a toothy toddler with your first pet; your family and childhood friends; Polaroids of your first team in training to become agents.

😩😩😭😭

He looked at you so lovingly. “We did it, darling.” You would have reached for his hand if you could.

I'M GONNA JUMP OFF A CLIFF WHAT IN THE FRESH FUCKING HELL

“Did it touch you?” he asked in a panic as she clung to him. “Course not, I'd be dead.”

ohhh the pain🫠🫠🫠

“He loves me. You love me, don't you?” Her hand stroked delicately across his cheek, and he fought the urge to lean into the touch. For that brief moment, he could pretend it was you, still with him, saying those words.

pain au chocolat

There was a girl sitting beside him on the bed, holding a little pink heart on a chain. Your necklace. You grew defensive, preparing to strike.

having to watch your love fall in love with someone else is the worst thing ever omfg

The boy reached out and gripped Lucy's free hand, never taking his eyes off you. The gesture was supportive for her, but meant for you too. A tear rolled down his cheek. Lucy's breathing was shallow.

this is heartbreaking in so many different ways😩🥹

George was absolutely fascinated by you, and took every opportunity to quiz the others on your awareness of various things and how you reacted to his experiments.

he's just the cutest

Lucy often got you out on her own to have another girl to talk to. In return, of course, she'd fill you in on any gossip they came across or funny things that happened on cases that the boys were too embarrassed to tell you about.

friendship from beyond the grave oh god I'm gonna cry again

Through it all, you watched the three of them grow into a little family.

watching your friends grow closer while you're just kinda there is a different kind of painful😭

“It's okay.” It's not your fault.

a masterpiece, merry

Little Pink Heart

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, implied Locklyle

Summary: following a fatal Ghost-Touch, Lockwood and reader must figure out how to manage love and life after death

Content: reader's death, ghost!reader, grief, angst, bittersweet, not a happy ending, established relationship

A/N: Please please be aware that this fic has some very heavy content, don't feel obliged to read if you could find it upsetting! That being said, this is as much about exploring the concept of Visitors' sentience that Jonathan Stroud introduced and building on what we saw with Annabel Ward as it is about the angst and the grief. This is dedicated to @bella-rose29 for mentioning the idea of ghost!reader and giving me inspiration (bonus angst: listen to Someone New by Freya Ridings while you read)

Word count: 4.9k (my longest fic yet!)

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

The click of the key echoed through the house as you opened the door. Dusk was falling, the fine mist that had settled tinted a soft blue. As much as you didn't want to go inside, you fancied staying out here less.

“Don't linger, darling,” your boyfriend, Anthony, murmured as he passed over the threshold. His hand slipped into yours and he led you in. The house was cold and dim in the fading light, and from the fine layer of dust and lack of personal effects it was clear that it hadn't been inhabited for some time. It was a shame that the owner, who had seemed like a nice enough young woman, had had to move out of her family home, but you couldn't help but be grateful. You and Anthony had only just got your licences, and with no links to any agencies nor desires to join them you'd decided to try and set up your own. That took time, though, and money, and though Anthony had a little equity in his house you'd agreed to take a couple of small, private cases to make up as much as you could. That was how you found yourself here, ready to earn a reasonable sum in exchange for eliminating a lone Type Two. A few jobs like this would help set you up nicely.

The kitchen was slightly warmer than the rest of the house, the west-facing windows having allowed in the last of the sun before it dipped behind the trees in the distance. Together you set up your kit bags on the table - you didn't have much: a few handmade salt bombs, filings and chains, a few flares only in case of emergency (they'd cost far too much to waste) and of course your rapiers. Lockwood pulled something extra from his bag, a small plastic-wrapped packet. Bourbon biscuits.

“You're the best,” you smiled as he opened the packet and offered one to you, which you bit into quickly.

“I know,” he grinned back, brushing a stray crumb from your lip. You blushed.

The owner of the house had provided a floor plan, but her account of the Visitor had been so inconsistent and vague that it was difficult to pinpoint a possible location for the Source. Anthony spread the roll of paper across the table, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, peering over his shoulder at the diagram. There were two floors and a basement, but the latter had been gutted a month ago ready for renovation so there was nothing in there at present.

“Let's start upstairs and work our way back down,” Anthony suggested. “More likely to find something in one of the bedrooms.”

“True, but it's a lot of wasted time if we don't. Why don't we split up and take a floor each?”

His expression soured, and he moved closer, taking your hand again and rubbing small anxious circles above your thumb. “That's smart, but I hate the idea of leaving you on your own.” Even when he didn't agree with your ideas, he always found a way to compliment them. Just one of the things that made you love him all the more.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It won't be for long, and I'll call for you the moment I find anything suspicious.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You leant forward and placed your lips delicately on his. He held you close, your hands on his chest, one of his on your waist and the other fidgeting with your necklace. It was one he'd bought for you, a small pink gemstone in a heart shape on a simple silver chain. His promise to always love and protect you. Not a day had gone by since that you didn't wear it. He nodded at last; he knew he would, he'd do anything you asked of him in a heartbeat. It still worried him not to be by your side, but he trusted that you were a good agent who could handle yourself and that you meant it when you said you'd call for him. His only condition was that if the Source was more likely to be upstairs, that would be where he'd look.

So it was that you found yourself, torch in one hand and the other on your rapier, exploring the ground floor. The silence was oppressive, seeping the confidence from you with every step. Not a ticking clock, not the creaking of the old building settling, not even the residual hum of electricity or plumbing, just the occasional thud from your boyfriend upstairs. Working quickly, you ruled out the dining room and bathroom. That left the lounge. The air smelled musty, and a shiver ran through you as you entered. That was never a good sign. You pulled out your thermometer and watched the temperature drop the further in you went.

“Anthony?” Your voice felt deafening against the quiet of the room, but you knew it hadn't been anywhere near loud enough to travel upstairs. No, this was silly, you could handle this. There were no signs of a spirit yet, for all you knew the change in temperature could be from the wind blowing down the chimney into the empty fireplace. You flicked the torch off, using your now free hand to hold your necklace, grounding yourself as you tuned in and listened. There was nothing at first. You wondered whether Anthony was having more luck upstairs; so far down here had been thoroughly useless. Maybe you should go and check on him. But then you heard it. A tragic, gut-wrenching wail, getting closer.

“Anthony?” you called again, louder this time but as steady as you could. There was movement above. He'd heard. So had the spirit, the wailing definitely nearby now. You pulled out your rapier.

The temperature plummeted.

A screech, so close you would have felt the breath on your neck had it come from a living being, made you whirl round. Your rapier clattered to the floor. Shit. Stay calm.

“Anthony!” you yelled, not caring how scared you sounded. His footsteps rattled down the stairs. He was so close.

You lunged towards your rapier.

The Visitor lunged towards you.

Lockwood was in the back bedroom when he heard his name. All his senses were immediately on high alert - you were the only person he allowed to call him Anthony, so he always reacted differently to his first name anyway, and under the circumstances hearing it immediately made him fear the worst.

“Y/n?” He crept out onto the landing, slowly pulling out his rapier and listening intently for any more noise. It was moments like these he was grateful not to be a Listener, he could focus on you and not the sounds of the house's history. He was only two steps onto the staircase when his name came again, louder and more panicked. Without a second thought he ran down the stairs, only holding back enough to make sure he didn't fall. His blood ran cold when he heard you scream.

You tried to both duck and spin as your hand came into contact with the hilt of your rapier. The blade sliced upwards, connecting with the Visitor, but it was too late. Its clawing grey hand clutched onto your shoulder moments before it disappeared. You screamed as tendrils of ice shot through you, radiating outwards from the spot. Through the fog of pain that had suddenly engulfed your brain you heard Anthony, close by now, yelling your name. You had to go to him. He'd know what to do. Everything would be okay.

You took one step, then another. Your torso was going numb, your entire arm having already fallen victim to the plasm which was turning your shoulder a violent shade of blue. One more step, and your legs gave out. You just about made out the silhouette of your boyfriend in the doorway, rushing towards you as you slumped to the ground.

“No, no, no, y/n!” Anthony's face swam into view, trying to mask his utter horror for your sake. “It's going to be okay, darling, I'll go and get help.”

The fingers of your good hand twitched towards his and he took it immediately, despite how cold it was. You struggled to focus on him through your tears, and noticed the same in his eyes. “Ant-” Your voice was failing fast.

“Shh, I've got you.” He cradled your head, his own tears mingling with yours on your cheek, but you could barely feel them. Almost everything was numb. The blue had spread across your chest, and the little pink heart stood out starkly against it. “I'm so sorry, my darling,” Lockwood said softly. He choked back a sob as he leant down, placing a kiss into your hair. You wanted to do the same, to speak to him, to do anything.

His face was the last thing you saw before everything went black.

—

You had no idea how much time had passed when your vision returned, a room slowly materialising in front of your eyes. It was a bedroom, filled with knick-knacks and bathed in a warm golden light. It looked familiar, but you hadn't been here when it went dark, you'd been… somewhere else. It was so hard to remember, but you knew there had been a dark, dusty room and a feeling of agonising cold. And a person. There'd been someone there, someone you needed to say something to. Now here you were, everything feeling so normal yet so bizarre; you were still you, still able to move and see and hear, but there was a disconnect between those sensations and reality. Nothing felt real. You looked around again, desperate for answers.

There.

Perched on the edge of the bed was a boy. His crisp white shirt was a stark contrast to his dishevelled dark hair, doleful brown eyes and the deep eyebags beneath. He looked exhausted, like he'd barely slept or eaten. There was something in his hand, balanced carefully on the tips of his fingers: a necklace, with a little pink heart. A spark of recognition bloomed in the back of your mind. That was your necklace. It was important. He had no right to be holding it. You drifted forward. The boy looked so familiar. Oh. The icy feeling rippled through your chest again, and you remembered. He'd been there when that feeling had taken over your body until you couldn't feel anything else. Rage boiled in your veins, and a snarl crept onto your face. But then, as quickly as it started, the anger subsided. He'd not caused it. He'd held you so gently, cried as everything faded. You knew him. You opened your mouth, finally ready to speak.

Lockwood stared at the tiny gemstone in his hand, unsure whether he wanted anything to happen this time. He'd secretly slipped it from you before DEPRAC had arrived, and spent the past few weeks periodically taking it out of the little silver-glass box in his bedside table. Part of him desperately wanted you to come back, to let him see you once more, but the other part knew it would hurt so much. What if you didn't recognise him and turned violent like so many Visitors? What if you didn't because you didn't recognise anything, just hung there as a shadow of your former self? What if you did, and he had to live with putting you back in the case and removing you from his life all over again?

The decision was made for him when a soft golden glow appeared in the corner of his bedroom. There you were. Tears welled in his eyes as the image of you sent him spiralling back to that day: your edges were a little fuzzy but everything else was the same, from your outfit to the scared look in your eye to the dark patch spreading from your shoulder. You looked at him now and he was relieved to watch you processing your surroundings. The person he knew was still in there, you weren't just a hollow shell. Suddenly you snarled and he flinched, fingers twitching towards the silver-glass case.

You moved closer.

You stopped.

Your face fell.

He watched the glimmer of recognition in your eyes, and the tears he'd been holding back spilled out along with all the things he'd wanted to say for months.

“Oh my darling, I'm so sorry. I should never have let this happen, I should have been there for you, and-”

He paused. You were mouthing something. Over and over. Your death loop, he presumed. God, just putting death in the same sentence as you stung.

“I'd give anything to be able to hear you right now,” he said, voice wavering. You stopped, giving him a sad look. The realisation that at the very least you could understand him, even if you couldn't communicate fully, hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Lockwood!” a boy's voice called from outside. You both looked at the door and your anger flared again. The boy on the bed shook his head.

“He's a friend,” he told you reassuringly, before calling back, “One minute, George!” You waited in the corner, puzzled. The boy, Lockwood (you knew that name, didn't you?), gave you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, y/n, I've got to go. I'll explain soon, I promise.” He dropped the necklace into its little case and clicked it shut, and you watched the world dissolve.

—

You still weren't sure how much time had passed when you found yourself back in that bedroom, but it didn't feel like very long. The last rays of the sunset poked through the gaps around the drawn curtains, the room lit instead by a lamp on the bedside table. The boy, Lockwood, was sitting on the bed again holding your necklace, but this time he looked at you almost immediately. His hair was a little neater, his eyebags more pronounced.

“Hi,” he said quietly. “Sorry if I disturbed you, I don't… really know how this works.”

You knew he couldn't hear you, but you gave your message again anyway.

“Maybe I should see if George knows how to lip-read,” he chuckled wryly. The sound reminded you of home, wherever that was. Things were still hazy, but part of you had a feeling this was it. Here, with this boy. “Which reminds me,” he continued, “I did promise to tell you about him.”

You settled into the space in the corner, allowing Lockwood's low, gentle voice to wash over you. It was incredibly calming. George was his new housemate, he told you, who'd been living here for about a month. It was all very confusing - it had felt like both minutes and years had passed since you were last here and the same before that, but he explained that the other boy had moved into the house in mid-September, and the last time you'd been here was a week ago in late October. Where was all the time going?

“I have no idea whether you experience time when your Source is contained, whether you're aware of what's going on in between or remember things from last time,” he admitted. Source. You knew about those. They were what you'd been looking for that night in that dark old house. A spirit had been tied to it, and you had to seal the Source to get rid of it. But you'd failed and it had found you, and now… your chest tightened at both the memory and the realisation. Nothing felt real because you weren't. You were just a Visitor. You continued to listen numbly as Lockwood kept talking. Not much wonder he'd recoiled when you first appeared, he'd seen what the touch of a ghost had done to you and without knowing you'd almost inflicted the same fate. You vowed in that moment that no matter what, you'd never let that happen.

The next few months saw Lockwood getting you out every chance he got. Bit by bit, he helped restore your memories and did his best to accommodate you even though the two of you couldn't properly communicate. He set up a little daily tear-off calendar on his dresser so you could keep track of how long it had been between visits, and stored his kit bag in the bottom of his wardrobe so you could move more freely around the room. Eventually, you'd come to remember him more. Not just the events from the night you died, but him. Your boyfriend, Anthony. You wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to be a comforting presence, but you knew you couldn't. Not only because you couldn't touch, but because deep down you knew that as much as you treasured being able to keep him in your life (or rather, afterlife), you had to let him go sooner or later and he needed to do the same with you. He'd been followed around by grief since long before you met him, and you hated that you were adding to it. You were just glad to see him slowly improving week by week - his face was a little brighter, and it seemed George was making sure he stayed fed. You'd have to thank the other boy if you ever got chance. Anthony said the two of you would have got along if you'd met in life, and even now George's obsession with the Problem would have made him your biggest fan, but their friendship was too new and besides he wasn't a Listener either so you'd not be able to tell him anything.

“I've got something to show you,” Anthony announced as you materialised one sunny day in late spring. He sat down with a large pink folder and patted the space next to him on the bed. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Come on,” he sighed fondly, “you never had any sense of personal space before, don't start now. Just no hugging.”

You glowed a little brighter and drifted over, your legs disappearing into the mattress until your torso was level with his. Being careful where he positioned his arms, he angled the folder towards you. It was a photo album, labelled in handwriting you recognised as your own. Page by page, he took you through your memories, giving you time to linger on each one: you as a baby, then a toothy toddler with your first pet; your family and childhood friends; Polaroids of your first team in training to become agents. His hands trembled a little as he reached the next section. On the left were four photos: the team you'd transferred to, the one he'd been training with; a slightly blurry action shot of the two of you sparring for the first time; a goofy photo he'd taken of you cartwheeling down a grassy hill after a case; your team all proudly holding their Grade Four licences. On the other side, surrounded by two styles of hand-drawn hearts, was the two of you hugging on the steps of 35 Portland Row, Anthony's lips pressed in a smile against the top of your head. You remembered that sensation well, a frequent occurrence right up until the moment you died. The rest of the album was full of photos of the two of you, ones taken by others and candids you'd snapped of each other. You felt a pang of regret that you'd never get to take any more.

Anthony turned another page. Hold on. You knew for certain there were no more photos. You looked sideways at your boyfriend, and he gave you a bashful smile. Pasted across a double spread was a copy of a certificate from DEPRAC, confirming A.J. Lockwood & Co Investigators as a registered agency. Inspector Barnes, who you vaguely recalled meeting once or twice, had signed as the licensing authority. Anthony and George had put their names down as the founding members. But then underneath that, in Anthony's familiar hand, he had added an extra section. Honorary Member: y/n y/l/n.

He looked at you so lovingly. “We did it, darling.”

You would have reached for his hand if you could.

—

Weeks began to pass before Lockwood got you to visit again. He'd have spent every day with you, but business was good and he owed it to you to make a proper go of it. In the meantime, George talked incessantly about Visitors which gave Lockwood a chance to think about you. Each time he finally got to see you again he'd apologise profusely, and you'd repeat your death loop back to him. He tried so hard to figure out what you were saying - his Sight was good, you were as clear as day and he knew your every quirk and mannerism, but he just couldn't put the movements of your lips to the right sounds.

Everything changed the day he met Lucy Carlyle. From the moment she set foot in his living room, he felt like he was supposed to have met her. The feeling only grew when he gave her the interview tests - plenty of people had passed through, some with better Talents than others, but none had come even close to the Listening abilities of the girl before him. When she spoke of the gentleness she found in his uncle's pen-knife, he knew he had to hire her.

Lucy managed to defy even his high expectations on the Annabel Ward case. He kept his focus on the young woman's spirit hovering at the end of the corridor, rapier levelled in case the details of her aggressive nature were true, but he couldn't help but think of the first day he brought you back and how quickly you'd retreated and shown a level of sentience he'd never expected from a Visitor. Was this poor woman the same? Lucy's eyes were closed, listening intently.

“She's in pain,” she said softly.

“Of course she is, she's dead.”

“No, something's different.”

He was intrigued instantly. “What's different?”

She shushed him. “I can almost…”

Annabel launched forward, sending Lucy crashing through the wooden railing in her attempt to dodge the grasping hand. Déjà vu overwhelmed Lockwood, your pained eyes flashing across his mind as he staggered backwards.

No.

He'd already lived through this once and regretted the outcome every day since. Now was his chance to redeem himself. He sprang towards the ghost, fending her off with his rapier, pulling Lucy from her desperate grip on the picture frame as soon as the coast was clear.

“Did it touch you?” he asked in a panic as she clung to him.

“Course not, I'd be dead.” Didn't he know it. The more she explained how she'd connected with the spirit, the more sure he became. Later, when they experimented with Annabel's necklace and he listened to Lucy describe the scene in such detail, he knew for certain.

“He loves me. You love me, don't you?” Her hand stroked delicately across his cheek, and he fought the urge to lean into the touch. For that brief moment, he could pretend it was you, still with him, saying those words. Perhaps with Lucy's help, it could be.

—

It had been a while. The trees outside Anthony's window were tinted a beautiful copper. You couldn't wait to hear his updates this time.

“There's a sadness, but so much love too. She feels very kind.” That wasn't Anthony's voice. Something was wrong. There was a girl sitting beside him on the bed, holding a little pink heart on a chain. Your necklace. You grew defensive, preparing to strike.

The boy looked up and saw you glaring. “It's okay, darling.” The girl followed his gaze. “Lucy, this is y/n, my late girlfriend. Y/n, this is our new associate, Lucy. She's a Listener.” Ah. Finally. You settled back down and took in the girl properly. She was pretty, with a warm brunette bob and a blue jumper which made her eyes pop. She smiled up at you, a genuine friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you,” she said sweetly. Anthony gave her an encouraging nod. You noticed that he seemed a little nervous, but there was also a calmness to him that had been missing for the past year. If that was Lucy's influence, then she was alright in your eyes.

Anthony spoke to you again. “She's brilliant, connected with a Visitor on our last case and I thought maybe she could finally help us figure out what you've been trying to say.” You nodded in agreement, and the girl closed her hand around the necklace.

You weren't sure whether you were in Lucy's head or whether she was in yours. The two of you blended into one as she ventured into your memories. Anthony's room melted away around you, sending you back to that cold dark room. You bristled.

“It's a bit different having her in the room with us,” Lucy murmured, eyes closed. “Let me know if either of you need me to stop.”

Anthony glanced at you, flickering slightly but still present and unagitated. “We're okay, go on.”

Meticulously, she described what you were both experiencing, or in your case reliving. It was hard knowing you were getting closer to the agony all over again, but it was important for your boyfriend to finally have a chance for answers and closure, so you kept the inevitable moving along.

“Anthony?” Lucy said softly, the same way you had. By the look on his face, it seemed he was realising now what you had at the time - that you'd tried to call him and hadn't been loud enough, that if only you'd tried again straight away, maybe you'd still be alive. “Anthony?” she called again. “Anthony!” You heard your own scream echo in your mind, felt the cold grasping your shoulder. The boy reached out and gripped Lucy's free hand, never taking his eyes off you. The gesture was supportive for her, but meant for you too. A tear rolled down his cheek. Lucy's breathing was shallow.

“It hurts,” she gasped, “and she's scared.”

“I should have been there quicker.” His voice was shaking with emotion, barely able to get the words out.

“No, there's no anger. She knew you were coming, and having you there through the end was a comfort.”

Anthony swallowed thickly. “Her death loop. Can you hear it?”

She opened her eyes and watched you as you spoke, the words spilling from her lips a second after.

“It's okay. It's not your fault.”

The boy broke down, his sobs rattling through the small room. Lucy held out her arms and he folded into them. She threw you an apologetic glance, and you said it again to her. “It's okay. It's not your fault.”

They were still hugging when, with his and your permission, Lucy gently slipped your necklace back into its case.

—

Now that the secret was out, you really did become an honorary member of the agency. Sure, you couldn't exactly contribute to the cases, but other than that the whole team treated you as one of their own. Anthony always waited for your opinion on big decisions, which you could make quite apparent with how happy or angry your energy was. George was absolutely fascinated by you, and took every opportunity to quiz the others on your awareness of various things and how you reacted to his experiments. Lucy often got you out on her own to have another girl to talk to. In return, of course, she'd fill you in on any gossip they came across or funny things that happened on cases that the boys were too embarrassed to tell you about. Through it all, you watched the three of them grow into a little family. Anthony and Lucy especially had clicked with each other; they reminded you of how you and he had been. That realisation filled you with a mixture of relief and melancholy. You loved Anthony so much, all you wanted was for him to be happy, but you'd be lying if you didn't wish it was you putting the light back in his eyes.

He sat you down shortly after New Year. His face was sombre but hopeful, and he fidgeted with his ring. Part of you could already tell what was coming.

“I don't really know how to say this,” he began hesitantly, “but after everything we've been through, you deserve to hear it.” You waited patiently for him to find the words he needed. Really, you had all the time in the world.

After a few moments, he spoke again. “I promised to always love you, and I will still keep that promise until the day I die…” But. There had to be a but. “...but I really care about Lucy too, and I just-” He didn't need to finish the sentence. And technically he was single. And he stood a chance of having a life with her. And she wasn't going to keep him tied to his past and his grief.

“It's okay.” Now he knew what your death loop was, he could tell what you'd said, and the way you'd limited it to just those words was a reminder of how remarkably well you understood everything that was happening. How you were as close to being a person as you could be, how it wasn't close enough.

“Promise?”

You touched the hollow of your neck, where the outline of a little sparkling heart sat against the darkness.

He nodded in understanding and reached for the silver-glass case. “Thank you, darling.”

“It's okay.”

It's not your fault.

[glorified-red]

Damian When His s/o is Sick

word count: 880~ warnings: snot? phlegm? mentions of throwing up, normal sick things really In honor of me being incredibly sick, here's me coping.

He'd notice you're sick before you do

Damian observes you from afar a lot, he enjoys seeing how you interact with the world because you're the best view in his eyes

So when your steps drag more than normal, your movements are slower, and your speech is more sluggish, he'll know somethings wrong

He'll ask if somethings bugging you, demanding to know what's wrong

When you brush it off, he will not believe you in the slightest

All it takes is brushing your bangs back once and Damian will feel the fever on your skin

"You have a fever, go lay down."

And if you don't, he'll spend the rest of the day making sure you not only find a bed, but you stay in one

Damian would do everything in his power to make the next few days as bearable as possible

He loves to show you love by doing little things for you

He'll bring you food so you don't have to get out of bed

He'll even bring you tea because it will soothe your sore throat, clear your sinuses, and hopefully be something you can keep down

Refilling tissues, placing a cold towel on your forehead, and making sure you drink even a little bit water

He'll pull your hair back into a braid or pin your hair out of your face so anytime you throw up you won't have it get in the way

It's mostly so he doesn't have to hold your hair and be in the splash zone

But it is cute of him to clip your hair back

He'll hand you a towel the second you finish along with a water bottle to wash the phlegm down

Damian takes sickness incredibly seriously so he will be checking your temperature like crazy

He doesn't react much when he reads the numbers but you can see the worry in his eyes

You can also see it in the way he puts the thermometer down and tucks you in just a little bit tighter

Temperature fluctuation is annoying and Damian will try his best to stay on top of it

He won't let you have more than two blankets because even though you feel cold, your fever is still raging forward

Damian will insist you just stand outside and let the sun warm you up

You can complain as much as you want but the second you step outside you feel a little bit better and you want to wipe the knowing look off his face

He claims fresh air is always the best medicine and you hate that he's right because you can breathe through your nose again for the first time in a few days

Heat flashes worry him the most

Whenever you get dizzy you give Damian a heart attack, he'll linger near you and every time you misstep he'll flinch to catch you

He wants you to stay put in the bed where he can make sure you stay safe

"Stay put."

The second your fever gets too high he will make you take a cold bath

It's routine and it sucks but Damian is serious in your recovery because "This isn't something to be taken lightly."

He may not seem like he's worried about you but the longer your fever doesn't break the more he'll worry

You'll notice it by the way he finds ways to spend more time around you, he just kind of lingers

He does keep his distance though because being sick is such a nuisance for him and if you tell him to give you space he will

But that won't stop him from at least dropping off medicine when you need to take it

He won't admit it but he really does worry about you

Being able to keep a close eye on you is his way of showing he cares even if it seems overbearing at times

What can he say, he likes you happy and healthy

Keeping his distance means no cuddles from Damian until your fever breaks and your cough is gone

Heaven forbid you sneeze near him

But he'll sit in the corner of your room and do his own thing while you wallow in your bed

Don't get up because he will interrogate you as to why you're not resting

You can try to beg him to let you wear one of his comfy shirts but he will never let you

The thought of your snot getting anywhere near his clothes is an instant no, but he'll promise to lend you your favorite hoodie of his once you recover

The second your fever breaks he'll drag you out of bed so you can take a shower

He'll make sure your clothes get cleaned so you don't feel so disgusting anymore because no one feels great when their shirt sleeves are covered in snot

The moment you're back to your normal self, he'll have his hoodie freshly out of the dryer for you

He'll even let you drag him into your newly cleaned bed for some well-deserved cuddles because yes, he did miss this

But he enjoys when the love of his life is safe and healthy

Getting to kiss you again is always a bonus

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@sunhats-and-candycorn

@missredrobin

[the-little-ewok]

Waiting

Waiting (Oneshot) Poe Dameron X G/N Reader Word count: 2900(ish) Rating: M Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending), Fluff, implied sexual content (non explicit), mention of injury, language

Summary: The waiting is always the worst. The minutes that drag themselves forward. The long hours that bleed into days. At least it won't be for long this time. “I’ll be home in a few days. I promise.” Except he isn't.

----

It's been 3 minutes since he left.

He's barely gone and your heart aches already, even though your lips still tingle from his last kiss. His smile is still bright in your mind. His voice is still perfect in your ears.

"I'll be home in a few days. I promise." He'd kissed you again, softly, sweetly. The same way he did every time he left. He'd held his palm to your cheek while he looked you over, committing every part of you to memory, even though he knows he won't be gone long. It's a routine he follows every time he leaves, and every time you feel the same familiar tug on your heart.

Then, just like every other time, the warmth of his touch was gone, and he disappeared up into his X-Wing, giving you a wink as he strapped himself in and closed the canopy.

"Be safe." You'd mouthed to him, stepping back to a safe distance to watch his departure. "Come home."

He'd blown you a kiss. You’d pretended to catch it and hold it to your heart. Even through the transparisteel, you could see the way his grin widened in response.

Then he was gone, up into the stars, and with the retreating vision of his ship, the colour dropped out of your world. Everything suddenly seemed dull and lifeless.

It's always this way until he comes back. It's always this way when you're waiting.

The waiting is always the worst. The minutes drag themselves forward. The long hours bleed into days. At least it won't be for long this time.

"I'll be home in a few days. I promise."

~

It's been 3 days, 4 hours, and 26 minutes since he left.

You always get anxious after a few days. You miss him, but for a while you can enjoy the quiet moments, busy yourself with work and try to push his absence to the back of your mind. You wait for his messages, his footsteps in the corridor outside your room, the call of your name, but for the most part, you can distract yourself until the last minute. Until you know he should be back. That's when the anxiety hits you the hardest. The suffocating worry that puts you on edge right until the moment he’s home and safe, settles in your chest. The sudden thought that hits you — he should be coming home... but what if he doesn’t? He always comes home though.

He hasn't been in contact, but it's not unusual, not when he's on these types of missions. You're not too worried yet. He'll come home full of apologies and kisses, telling you how much he missed you, how he missed your voice, your eyes, your lips. You'll laugh and tell him he should rest as he pulls you to the bed. He'll ignore your suggestion.

He always does.

"I'm hungry.” He'd complained against your neck, his voice gravelled with tiredness. You'd kissed his dark curls and shuffled out from under his arm.

"You get some rest, and I'll go find us something to eat." You'd tried to climb out of the bed, but his arms wrapped around your waist again, holding you back.

"No, you can't leave me yet. I only just got back. You aren't leaving this bed. I'll wait. It's worth starving to death to taste your kisses instead."

You'd allowed yourself to sink back into his arms with a giggle. His kiss had been heated, passionate and achieved its intent of making you dizzy and breathless.

"I'll make sure next time you come home I'll have snacks."

He'd given you a bright grin. "Promise?"

"Promise." You’d groaned as his lips found your neck once more.

He'll be home any day now. This day or the next. So you'll wait a little longer. You'll make sure things are perfect for when he gets back. You tidy his room in preparation, you wash and fold his clothes neatly, you keep notes of everything he's missed. You put his favourite snacks on the table. The waiting won't last much longer.

"I'll be home in a few days. I promise."

~

It's been 7 days, 6 hours, and 27 minutes since he left.

Any news? Nothing yet.

You weren't too worried at first. Not after he was a day late. Not even after two. But by three, the anxiety had started to twist harder in your stomach. By four, sleep had started to evade you. You tell yourself he's fine. He's just delayed. He probably managed to talk himself into some kind of trouble, and likely out of it too. He's just delayed. A few days is nothing. But every day without communications, without news, every day of silence only adds to the growing worry.

While you wait your mind wanders back to the last time he was late.

"Poe. Stop talking. I'm just glad your home and safe!" You'd interrupted after he'd burst into your room, still in his flight suit, apologising for being late back from his mission and rambling on about stolen ships and Jawas. "I was starting to worry."

He'd stopped talking and smiled at you. "I'm glad I'm home safe too. I have the best story to tell you.” His eyes had been so lit up with excitement even under the heavy veil of tiredness. You could tell the mission had gone well, and you knew he would talk for hours and hours. He’d tell you everything, whether you want to hear it or not. Luckily you did. You always do.

He'd taken the few steps into your room and pulled you into his arms, cuddling you tightly.

"You smell worse than a womp rat nest,” you whined, trying to duck out of his arms.

He'd laughed and only held you tighter, placing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m happy to see you too, baby.”

You check in every day. You check the flight logs. You check messages. You send comms to everyone you know across the galaxy, every ally and friend you have. Every day, you check the news feeds for any tiny piece of information, equally hopeful and dreading what might come up. Nothing ever does. You tell yourself you just have to wait a little longer. He’ll be home soon.

Any news? No. Nothing yet.

"I'll be home in a few days. I promise."

~

It's been 3 weeks, 13 hours, and 37 minutes since he left.

The days pass in a blur now, and there are still no communications. No answers to your calls. No ship landing on the docking station. No bright smile and kisses. No apologising for his late return before running off for debriefings, promising to find you later.

They tell you not to be worried. There are no reports that he's been captured. No signs of his ship or him. You’d have heard if he was hurt. You'd know if it was worse. These are good signs. He's just delayed somewhere not able to get a message out. Missing in action. But not lost. Not yet.

It doesn't make you feel any better; it doesn't make the waiting easier. But you stop asking for news. They’ll tell you if they find him. They tell you that you look tired. That you should rest. They force you to take some time off.

But you can’t relax. Instead you pace around his room. You re-fold his clothes. You re-make the bed and re-order his books. You re-clean his tools. When you pick up his jacket to hang it, the lingering scent of him brings tears to your eyes.

"You're freezing cold!" He'd exclaimed as he took your hands in his while you sat outside on the ground, watching the sun setting in the distance, away from the hum of life on the base. Taking both your hands in his, he’d blown warm air on them, bringing a tingling sensation to your fingers.

"Yes. It's the middle of winter. Who wants to watch a sunset in winter?" You’d laughed, your breath coming out in puffs of smoke.

"It's supposed to be romantic." He'd winked back, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around you. He’d wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close against him. You'd felt instantly warmer surrounded by the scent of him, his body pressed against your side.

"You'll catch a cold without a jacket,” you’d said.

"Help keep me warm then." He'd smiled and leaned to press his lips to yours for the first time. You'd stopped noticing how cold it was after that.

You bury your face in the material as the tears spill over onto the fabric, your knees giving way under you as you collapse to the floor. How much longer can you wait?

You spend the night in his room. Curled in his bed, his jacket wrapped around you. If you close your eyes tightly and try hard enough, you can imagine he's there with you, his arm thrown over your waist, his body pressed close against yours, the gentle contented sigh he gives as he sleeps.

"I'll be home in a few days. I promise."

~

It's been 4 weeks, 1 day, and 5 hours since he left.

Nobody says it. Not directly to you. But you hear it in whispers. Notice conversations stop when you enter rooms. The quiet hush that falls over the cantina when you walk in. The eyes that watch you as you mutely wander the corridors.

What if he's not coming back?

He’d be back by now if he was alive right?

Probably dead. Or worse.

Nobody's heard from him at all. Heard they are going to call it soon.

Looks heartbroken. You heard the crying in the night?

Worse without a body. No way to say goodbye.

"We're worried about you."

Snap drops by every day. He brings you something to eat when you can't stand the looks any longer. At first, you manage a smile. They are worried too. They are missing their friend. They don't need to worry about you as well. You tell him it's alright, you're alright. You're used to waiting. You're sure he's fine.

You leave the comms open all night. Sending desperate messages. Please come home. Please. Over and over. But nobody answers. You fall into a fitful sleep every night with it open. You wake every morning to the silence.

A blast of static had woken you in the night.

"You there? Baby?" His voice had sounded so close that you'd looked around the dim room for him, before realising it was coming from the com next to your pillow. You'd slept with it since he left. Waiting for his call.

"I'm here. You're late calling,” You'd mumbled, still half asleep.

"I woke you up. I'm sorry. I forgot you might be sleeping. Time doesn't really exist out here." You could hear the soft rumble of his engine in the background, the quiet beeps and clicks as he pressed buttons and flipped switches.

"No. It's ok. I miss hearing your voice." Sitting up, you'd pulled the sheets around you, against the chill that always seems to settle in your room in his absence. You'd cradled the com gently in your hand, as though through it you could have touched him. "I can't sleep properly without you now anyway. I miss you."

You’d thought about how it was getting harder every time he left. The hole he left behind became increasingly bigger. A piece of you was always missing when he's gone. The world was so much darker without his light.

He was quiet for a moment before he answered. "I miss you too, baby. I miss you so fucking much it hurts." Your eyes had burned with tears. Because he felt it too. The waiting hurt you both.

As the days pass by, you can't get the words out anymore to say your fine. You can’t say he’s ok because you don’t know. He’s never been gone this long without a word, and when Snap hugs you tight, you dissolve into tears-full howling, painful sobs that scratch your throat and choke you. Because you wish it was his arms around you. Because he's supposed to be here. Because you miss him so much it hurts.

"I'll be home in a few days. I promise."

~

It's been 5 weeks, 4 days, 16 hours, and 45 minutes since he left.

It wakes you suddenly in the middle of the night. The irrational, deep-seated panic that you can't remember him. That pieces of him are already fading from you so soon. You can't quite pinpoint the way his voice sounds. Or the exact colour of his eyes. Or the way he smiled. The memories seem fuzzy and unrealistic. Everything you can imagine seems wrong and out of place.

It makes it hard to breathe as your chest tightens. You need to remember. You desperately try to hold the pieces to you. Your mind is reeling as you try to remember him. Your most vivid memories seem suddenly blurred at the edges. You try desperately to remember the exact way he'd said he loved you the first time. Right here in this room.

"I need to talk to you." He'd rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as you tilted your head in curiosity. You didn't remember a time you'd ever seen him unsure like that. No, not your self-assured commander. He was always sure. Your heart had dropped. You remember thinking nothing good was about to leave his mouth.

"Iloveyou."

He'd blurted it out so quickly you'd frowned, not understanding the jumbled words he'd garbled out. "I… What?"

"I love you." He'd looked at you almost meekly and then given you a lopsided grin. "If that's ok?"

Your heart had felt like it would burst from your chest, and you hadn't been able to stop the bubble of laughter that fell from your lips in pure relief.

"If it's...? Stars, of course it's ok, you idiot. I thought you were going to tell me something terrible!" You'd giggled and wrapped your hands around his, holding them tightly. "Suppose I should tell you I love you too. If that's ok?" You'd teased.

He'd grinned back, finally relaxing, his soft brown eyes holding yours, his thumb softly stroking the back of your hand.

"It's better than ok."

The memory was once vibrant, bright, so easily recalled, every detail perfect, but nothing feels right about it now. Did he sound like that? Was that really his smile? Were his eyes that exact shade of brown? Did his hands feel that gentle?

Desperately you scramble around for the comms. Are you there? I need you. I love you. Please answer. Come home. You promised. You promised. You promised. Silent static is the only response.

"I'll be home in a few days. I promise."

~

It's been 6 weeks, 2 days, 4 hours, and 2 minutes since he left.

When they tell you there is a ship incoming, you don't let yourself hope. It's impossible to make out the voice through the breaking static as they try and call in. The ship is barely keeping in the air and it's impossible to speak with them. Unrecognised. Unregistered. And crashing down. You can't let yourself hope. It could be anyone.

Your feet carry you to the yard, but your mind is still elsewhere. You don't really take any notice of the hustle and bustle around you at the new arrival. Not until you step out into the drizzling rain. You glance up at the hiss of the bay doors, and you see him. Your mind catches up so quickly it makes you dizzy, and you stumble, your heart beating wildly.

He's filthy, limping, bleeding from a deep cut on his head and in need of several good meals. But alive.

When you reach him, he doesn't speak, not at first, and you can't make your tongue work to say all the things you want to. You want to tell him you missed him. You want to ask if he’s alright. You want to shout at him for making you worry. But there will be time for talking later.

You lift a hand to touch him, but you drop it again just as quickly, worried he isn’t real and you could break this dream. His eyebrows pull together as he frowns at you. He lifts a hand to wipe the tears you hadn't realised were falling, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. Only then do you allow yourself to believe. He's here. He’s alive. He’s home.

You throw your arms around him and hug him tightly. He lets out a grunt of pain, and you realise he's probably hurt. But when you try to let him go, he shakes his head and wraps his arms around you, holding you to him. With his touch, the world comes back into colour. Bright and vibrant. You didn't forget the way he smiled. Or the colour of his eyes. And when he talks, you remembered his voice exactly.

"Sorry I'm late."

It's been 6 weeks, 2 days, 4 hours, 17 minutes since he left. But the waiting is over, and he's home.

----------

Thank you for reading!

(I may do part 2 if anyone is interested)

Beta by the lovely @the-scandalorian

Further Poe stories : Masterlist

Requests are open

Taglist: @fisforfulcrum ; @pumpkin-stars ; @beydameron ; @mypedrom ; @salome-c ; @mbpokemonrulez ; @prettylilhalforc ; @reenadreams ; @lexloon ; @fett-ching ; @jitterbugs927 ; @one-hell-of-a-disappointment ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @dailyreverie ; @mandorush ; @the-scandalorian

If you would like to be added/removed from the taglist please let me know.

[jungshookz]

maybe, she can drive his car; mechanic!yoongi

➺ pairing; mechanic!yoongi x spoiledbrat!y/n

➺ genre; mechanic!yoongiverse!! sfw!! honk honk humour!! some suggestive behaviour because this is mechanic!yoongi and his y/n we're talking about!! the green-eyed monster inside of y/n is awoken after being dormant for so long and she's ready to bite some heads off

➺ wordcount; 11.6k

➺ summary; yoongi's ex is back in town for a visit and you'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly envious of a) how knowledgeable she is about stupid cars and b) how well she gets along with literally everyone.

➺ what to expect; "right, about that- i know i was supposed to come over for dinner tonight but- listen, i don't know what lisa did but obviously she's got a lot of connections now and the shop has literally never been this busy before... you understand, don't you?"

➺ currently spinning on the record player; mustang sally (originally by wilson pickett, covered by andrew strong)

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

namjoon usually doesn't pay too much attention to you whenever you're hanging out at the workshop with everyone because of how often you're here, but there's something about the way you're acting today that even he has to admit is oddly very...

cute?

and it's not that you're not cute all the time (because you totally are!!) but it's just that the version of you today in particular is suddenly making him want to go off and find a y/n of his own

"whatcha doing?"

namjoon jolts in surprise when a grimy hand suddenly burrows itself into the warm bag of freshly-popped popcorn that he has cradled to his chest and he scowls before turning his body away slightly

"hey, you're contaminating the popcorn, man-" he huffs, quickly grabbing the mega-sized pack of hand wipes from the desk before plopping it down on the countertop for jungkook, "at least have the decency to wipe your hands before digging into my popcorn- also, i'm watching. duh."

"watching?" jungkook frowns as he sloppily wipes his hands on the front of his shirt, turning to look out the open door, "watching what?"

"yoongi and y/n." namjoon hums, popping a couple of kernels into his mouth with a crunch, "she's been following him around like a little duckling all day."

"mm." jungkook props an elbow up on the counter as he looks towards the two of you before clicking his tongue, "...he must've really given it to her good last night if she's acting like that-"

"okay, now you've ruined the moment-" namjoon frowns, his shoulders dropping slightly before he gestures to you guys, "it's sweet! this is obviously a wholesome thing-"

"call it what you want, but all i'm trying to say is that good sex makes you do crazy things-" jungkook snorts before aggressively shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, "cravy phings."

"i'd like to argue that good sex forms a strong emotional bond which explains why there are cartoon hearts currently floating around y/n's head-" namjoon perks up when he notices the way your eyes light up at something yoongi says, "look at her! look at the way she's looking at him!"

"oh, please." jungkook tuts, "that dopey look on her face is telling me that the only thing on her mind is yoongi bending her over the hood of that car and just ramming-"

"namjoon and jungkook are arguing again." you point out, turning to look towards the office just in time to see namjoon throw a handful of popcorn at jungkook only for him to open his mouth and chomp wildly at the air to get some into his mouth

"jungkook probably said something stupid, as per usual." yoongi snorts, leaning over to lock the hood of the car into place before pulling away and taking a look at the situation, "now, let's see what we have going on here..."

when namjoon told him that this was a brake master cylinder repair he immediately felt all the excitement leave his body

he hates doing brake master cylinder repairs

all the parts are so small and the handiwork is super tedious anD the last time he did one of these he took like four hours to get it done

overall it's a pretty boring repair job and as much as he wants to pass it off to one of the others to do, he knows that he's the most skilled with the internal mechanics of a car compared to everyone else which he usually likes to brag about but today he wishes that that wasn't the case

"so what do you have to do?" you frown, stepping over so that you're standing by the side of the car and you're not in yoongi's way, "all the thingies look fine to me."

"well, i actually need to replace the brake master cylinder thingy." yoongi teases, smiling lightly as he points at some kind of container, "there's a leak in the seals, which is pretty common since they wear out after a few years. it should be an easy fix! it'll just take a while, that's all."

luckily, taehyung already took care of the messy part and emptied the fluid from the reservoir for him so now it's time to start the actual repair process

"so does beeper have one of these cylinders in him?" you ask, tilting your head in curiosity

you've never actually taken a look at beeper's under the hood situation before so you wouldn't know

(it feels like he's all naked and exposed whenever yoongi lifts his hood up and you just want to give beeper some privacy, that's all.)

"if beeper didn't have one of these cylinders in him, you wouldn't be able to brake, silly." yoongi snorts, reaching down to unclip the sensor from the reservoir, "see, when you push down on the brake, it pushes a piston through the cylinder and forces hydraulic fluid through the brake lines, which goes to the slave cylinders of each wheel, and then-" he pauses when he notices you've gone all quiet and he turns to see you staring directly at him with a dopey little smile on your face "-what? what'd i say?"

"i like it when you talk shop to me." you giggle quietly, "i mean, i don't understand 98% of the words that come out of your mouth when you do, but i still like it a lot-"

"yeah?" yoongi teases, taking a hand off the edge of the car so he can gesture for you to come closer (and you do, obviously), "you like it when i talk to you about... hm, i don't know..." he feigns cluelessness as he stands up to slink an arm around your waist and bring you towards him while your arms automatically hang loosely around his neck, "how the rubbing of the brake pad against the brake disc generates friction..." he lowers his voice as he sits lightly on the edge of the car and gives your hips a squeeze

"mm, tell me more..." you play along, letting yoongi pull you closer so that you're settled nicely in between his legs

"i don't know, maybe i should save all the good stuff for the bedroom..."

you resist the urge to immediately start whining when you lean in only for yoongi to dodge your kiss, "hey, i like you in these baggy overalls, by the way." he suddenly changes the subject and you feel your cheeks flush when both his hands slide in through the gaps until he's able to grip your bum, "big, big fan of them-"

"you- namjoon and jungkook are right there-" you gawk, "at least have the decency to turn me around so they don't see you fully groping me-"

"they can always just close their eyes or something-"

"okay, you two, break it up-!" you hear namjoon's claps echoing from the office as he tries to get your attention and you immediately turn to look at him with a grin, "god, it's like you sick freaks want to rub it in our faces-"

"okay, i have to get to work so why don't you go and hang out with namjoon in the office?" yoongi stands up, being careful not to hit the top of his head on the hood, "he'll let you play chess on the computer if you ask nicely."

"i thought i was helping you out today!" you frown, grabbing onto his hand before waving it back and forth, "you said i did a good job handing you the tools and stuff. i'm getting better at not mixing all the different types of screwdrivers up!"

yoongi can't help but laugh at how needy you're being and he reaches up with his free hand to adjust his bandana

"i know you wanna help, but i promise you there's nothing exciting about repairing a master cylinder." he hums, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully, "plus, don't you still have a huge research paper to work on?"

"yeah, but i'd much rather hang out with you..." you pout, yoongi cooing before leaning in to give your pushed-out bottom lip a little kiss

"we can hang out when we're both done with work."

"okay..." you purse your lips before letting go of his hand, "it's your loss. i'm a fantastic helper."

"mhm, you certainly are-" yoongi spins you around before pushing his palm against your lower back to get you to move, "now go and bug namjoon!"

you turn back to glance at yoongi one last time and he sweeps his hands at you to tell you to gO

fine!

it was getting hot in the garage anyway and namjoon always has the aircon blasting in the office

"sorry! only sad, single people are allowed in this area-" namjoon jokes as soon as you step in, gesturing to the office space with a grin, "leave or i'll have security escort you out."

"oh, stop it." you giggle, folding your arms up on the counter and leaning forward, "i keep telling you i'd be more than happy to set you up with one of my friends!!"

"i know, and that's very nice of you to offer, but i just want to find someone organically, you know?" namjoon sighs, leaning back against his chair before looking up at the ceiling wistfully, "being set up with someone doesn't feel like a natural process."

"namjoon thinks he's the main character of a shitty netflix romantic comedy." jungkook mutters, the two of you exchanging low giggles with each other

"well, if no one comes into your life organically you can always let me know and i'll- woah-" you jump in surprise when the sound of a roaring engine suddenly shatters the peaceful atmosphere and you turn around just in time to see a sleek car veering into the shop

you wince and raise a hand to shield your eyes from the bright headlights and you don't get a chance to make the first comment because jungkook beats you to it

(for the record, you were going to talk about how dramatic of an entrance whatever that was)

"oh my god. that is the sexiest car i've ever seen in my entire life." he breathes out, stepping away from the counter so he can stand by the door and get a closer look, "a 1965 mustang. nice."

"fun fact: i was actually thinking about getting a vintage mustang! i wanted an olive green one because i could've named her 'olive' which is super cute-" you nod enthusiastically, looking back and forth between namjoon and jungkook only for them to.,., completely ignore you and continue staring at the glossy mustang sitting out front

"okay, you guys, it's just a car-" you roll your eyes and let out a little snort of disbelief, "this isn't going to change your life or anything-"

a high-heel clad foot steps out of the car and onto the pavement and you immediately recognize the classic red-bottom louboutins

you actually own a pair of them as well but you rarely wear them out because you're always paranoid that you're going to topple over and snap an ankle and that would be completely mortifying

they're six inches tall!!!!

for the record, they look very nice sitting (collecting dust) on your shelf but now you're starting to think that it might be a good idea to wear them out again because this stranger makes it look like walking in them is easy breezy beautiful

"holy shit. is that lisa?" namjoon murmurs, reaching up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "oh, wow. she..."

"i don't remember her looking like that the last time we saw her." jungkook whistles lowly, "hello, miss manoban."

"lisa- who's lisa?" you frown, tilting your head in curiosity as you watch this mysterious lisa toss her oversized sunglasses into the front seat of the car before slamming the door shut

"uh, she's just one of yoongi's exes- she actually used to work here but-" namjoon reaches over the counter so he can nudge you aside gently to get a better look, "when did she get a vintage mustang?!"

lisa leans down to look at herself in the side mirror, smearing some red lipstick over her pillowy bottom lip before rubbing her lips together and nodding satisfactorily

"guess her car-wrapping business really took off." jungkook hums, his eyes glued to the car

she seems to be moving in slow motion as she takes her hair down and shakes her head back and forth, the three of you tilting your heads at the same time as you watch her in awe

"car-wrapping?" you ask curiously, "she must spend a fortune on wrapping paper and giant bows-"

"no, obviously it's not actual wrapping- like-" jungkook huffs and you resist the urge to bop him over the head at how snappy he's being with you when he already knows you're clueless when it comes to this kind of stuff, "okay, you know how you said that if you ever got a g-wagon for yourself one day that you wanted to make it baby blue just like beeper and also matte? lisa could do that for you."

"oh! in that case, it might be nice to get a business card from her or something-" you make a mental note before shaking your head and turning back around to face namjoon, "hey, so, super casual, can we round back to the whole 'yoongi's ex' thing real quickly because i-"

"yoohoo, boys!" lisa whistles, grinning excitedly when she's suddenly joined by everyone outside one by one, "what, no one thought to roll out the red carpet for me?"

"c'mon, namjoon! let's go say hi to lisa and her vintage 'stang!!" jungkook grins, gesturing for namjoon to hurry before he's darting out the door, "lisa, hey!"

"yeah, okay!!" namjoon gets up from his seat so quickly that he sends his chair rolling back and smacking against the file cabinets, "oh, y/n-! if anyone calls, just send them straight to voicemail-"

"but i-" you don't get a chance to say anything before namjoon's brushing past you and dashing out the door as well

you don't know too much about lisa but obviously she's a pretty big deal around here

it'd probably be good for you to go and introduce yourself instead of awkwardly hanging out in the office by yourself

"hello, lisa. it's very nice to meet you. firm handshake." you mutter to yourself as you step out of the office and head towards the bustling group of boys, "hey, lisa! so great to meet you. firm handshake. hi, girlie-! nope, don't like that one-"

"-in town for business so i thought it'd be nice to swing by and visit my boys." you manage to catch the end of lisa's sentences as you join the boys, trying not to make any sudden movements to catch her attention

"you should've texted one of us or something!" namjoon pulls his phone out of his back pocket, "we could've ordered a pizza for lunch-"

you reach over to give the back of yoongi's jumpsuit a little tug just to get his attention and he glances over his shoulder at you before offering you a teasing smile and reaching back to wiggle his fingers against your stomach

you giggle lightly before swatting his hand away and he turns back to look at lisa

"well, i wanted to surprise you guys!" lisa chirps, tucking her clutch underneath her armpit before clapping her hands together, "i see nothing's changed around here... except for..." you feel your heart drop when she suddenly leans over and looks directly at you, "hello! i don't think we've ever met."

"oh, shoot- sorry, i should've introduced you sooner-" yoongi steps aside so that he isn't blocking you, "lisa, this is y/n! y/n, this is lisa." he smiles, gesturing towards lisa, "my girlfriend." he pauses and quickly shakes his head at his little flub-up, "i mean- lisa, this is y/n, my girlfriend-"

"he's definitely gonna pay for that later." jimin mutters, jungkook snickering before nudging at his side to get him to shut up

"it's super nice to meet you, y/n!" lisa doesn't acknowledge yoongi's error and she steps forward to get closer to you

she's practically towering over you but it's really just because of the stilettos

she turns her head to look at the boys and a second of silence goes by before they realize what she's asking of them and they all scatter in different directions

you give yoongi a look that basically screams S.O.S. and you resist the urge to burst into tears when he gives you a cheery thumbs up in return and trots off to go and do something else

okay

you'll be fine

you have nothing to be nervous about!

this is just yoongi's very hot ex who looks like a million bucks while you'e currently dressed like a giant toddler

it doesn't help that you're wearing what's commonly known as a 'baby tee' under these overalls

"you- yeah, you too-" you chuckle uneasily, giving her a weak handshake before pulling away with a smile, "i'm sorry, i'm a little underdressed-" you pause to gesture to the grubby overalls you have on, "i promise i look better than this most of the time..."

"oh, don't be silly. i just grabbed the first outfit i saw out of my suitcase and threw it on-" she sighs, reaching up to pick some lint off her blazer that you're pretty sure you saw in the most recent YSL spring catalog (in fact, you're pretty sure it's on your to-buy list), "so, what do you do?"

"me? i- uh, well, nothing, at the moment- i'm still studying for my undergraduate degree, so..." you shrug sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck

for some reason you can't seem to maintain eye contact with her for more than three seconds at a time

"oh! you're still in school?"

"yeah, i- well, i'm graduating this year, so i'm almost out of school if you think about it that way- but yes. yes, i... am currently a university student, so that's what i'm doing."

"mm, cute! what are you studying?"

"history! i'm a history major and a marine biology minor." you nod, "so... the cold war and... like, sharks. something like that."

"ah, very cool."

to be honest you're not entirely sure if lisa's being sincere or not but you'll take the compliment either way

you can tell she's trying to scope you out - which is fair, because this is the first time you two are meeting and you're currently involved with someone she used to be involved with

"i'm sorry. i'm probably, like, freaking you out right now, aren't i?" lisa snorts, reaching out and placing her hand on your forearm for a split second, "i promise i'm just genuinely curious and i'm not trying to, like, interrogate you or anything. it's super nice to meet you! and honestly- i love the overalls. the little knee patches are adorable."

"oh, thank you..." you smile nervously, reaching down to glance at the mismatched patches of fabric sewn onto the knees of your overalls, "yoongi actually sewed 'em on for me! i usually wear this whenever i'm here because i'm okay with getting it dirty- i, um, i like your blazer! and your heels. and your purse- a chanel clutch is a classic!"

"ooh, someone has an eye for fashion..." lisa winks, raising her clutch and waving it slightly, "maybe after i'm done talking business with yoongi we can talk about gucci's new multicolour line-"

"oh, i have so many thoughts on gucci's new multicolour line!" you gasp, suddenly reignited with a spurt of energy, "honestly the colour scheme is very stabilo highlighters to me but we can talk about it later- i'll just be hanging out in the office, so you can find me there whenever you're ready-"

"perfect!" lisa gives you a thumbs up before pointing over to where yoongi is, "if you'll excuse me, i have to go and talk about boring things with yoongi-"

"mhm!" you watch with a smile as lisa click-clacks off towards yoongi before you spin around on your heels, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for how well you handled that interaction

lisa's actually nicer than you thought she'd be!

obviously the saying don't judge a book by its cover is very applicable here

"so... what'd you think of lisa?" namjoon joins your side before nudging you gently, "she's nice, right?"

"i like her! she seems really cool." you nod enthusiastically, pausing to glance over your shoulder to look at her from behind, "i need to ask her for tips on walking in those louboutins and how not to fall over."

"you know, i must say i'm pleasantly surprised at how you're handling this." namjoon snorts, holding back for a second to let you into the office first before he steps in behind you, "colour me impressed!"

"thank you!" you reach over to pull the lollipop jar towards you before suddenly pausing and looking back over at namjoon with a frown, "hold on a sec, what's that supposed to mean?"

"hm? oh, it's nothing." namjoon scrunches his nose, dismissing you with a flick of his wrist as he takes his seat behind the counter, "i just know that if i was in your shoes and my significant other's very attractive and very successful ex came back i would be a little antsy about it-" namjoon glances up from the computer and his eyes widen in panic when he notices that your eyes have widened in panic, "i- i mean- not that you're not very attractive and very successful- what i'm trying to say is that you have nothing to worry- you and yoongi seem like a very stable couple so-"

"do you think maybe you could tell me a bit about yoongi and lisa?" you interrupt his spiral and you feel yourself starting to get a little fidgety, "because i- i actually don't know anything about that situation-"

namjoon has a point, now that you think about it

lisa is very successful and very attractive and can walk in high heels very elegantly

and what about you?

yesterday you submitted a paper one minute before the deadline because of how much procrastinating you had done

and you haven't worn heels in forever because they just hurt so much

but lisa wouldn't complain about her feet hurting in high heels

lisa could have a hundred blisters and still walk into the room with a beautiful, red-lipped smile

"has he never told you about her?" namjoon frowns, "i feel like every couple should at least have one conversation about their past relationships."

"i think he tried to one time, but i- i dunno, you can't blame me for not wanting to sit there and listen to yoongi talking about all the girls he's been with, so i just changed the subject..." you mutter, pushing the jar away from you after pulling a strawberry lollipop out, "kind of regretting that decision now."

it's not like you have a reason to be insecure or anything, right?

your relationship with yoongi is very solid and there are certainly no trust issues or communication issues or anything of the sort

...

but he is your first boyfriend...,., and this is your first serious relationship which means you've had no prior experiences to learn from which means you're just going with the flow most of the time.,., so is it possible that you're being a little naïve right now?

"still, i don't think me telling you all the details of their relationship is a good idea because i feel like this is a conversation you should be having with yoongi-" namjoon chuckles nervously, leaning back against his chair before tucking a pencil behind his ear, "sorry, kiddo. i'm not trying to stir the pot here."

"i- oh, c'mon, joon- what's it gonna take, huh?" you reach into the front pocket of your overalls before subtly flashing a folded up hundred dollar bill, pursing your lips slightly as your eyes flicker back and forth between namjoon and your chest-money, "hm??"

"first of all, it's very concerning to me that you stash loose cash in your pocket like that. second of all, are you really trying to bribe me into telling you about yoongi and lisa?" namjoon asks incredulously

"what?! no!" you scoff, tucking the bill back into your pocket before pausing and raising an eyebrow, "...is it working?"

"no! in fact, i find it offensive that you think i'd be so easily swayed-"

"the next time i bring sushi for lunch, i'll get you your own mango shrimp tempura roll." you offer, namjoon staring at you blankly before he suddenly springs into action

"so, they used to sleep together, obviously." he clears his throat, "when lisa started working here, i kind of expected her to get involved with one of us and unsurprisingly it was yoongi, because... well, it's yoongi- i'm pretty sure it was a friends with benefits kind of thing because i remember asking him about it and he said they didn't want to put a label on it? and then at one point jimin asked lisa about it because all of us were super curious and she called it a 'situationship'... which, personally, i think is a pretty cheesy label- i dunno, they'd go out to dinners sometimes and occasionally they'd come into work together in the morning because- well, you know- uh, they were in this 'situationship' for... maybe, like, eight months? and then lisa got an opportunity to work elsewhere and she took it and they decided to call it off and fast forward to now... here we are!" namjoon claps his hands together before pressing his palm over his heart, "and i promise you that's all the information i have- well, maybe this piece of information might be useful to you: they were, like, super horny for each other all the time. like, almost outrageously horny, which i think is one of the downfalls of the relationship because you can't base a solid relationship off of animalistic sex, right? ooh, there was one time i caught them in yoongi's office and lisa was-"

"okay, i think that's enough-!" you hold a hand out to shut namjoon up and he shrugs before leaning back against his chair, "more than enough, actually-"

you weren't expecting to learn about the raw, animalistic sex yoongi had with lisa, but then again, you weren't expecting to even meet lisa at all

oh, god

should you be nervous??

you shouldn't be nervous, right??

...yeah, you're being ridiculous!

yoongi has been with other girls before and that shouldn't bother you because you didn't exist then

this has nothing to do with you!

so what if he bent her over the office table and-

okay, maybe it's time to stop thinking about this because the point is: you're fine. don't worry. everything is normal. yoongi is your boyfriend. lisa is his ex. everything is great!

"by the way, i want you to know that you honestly have nothing to worry about." namjoon suddenly chimes in as if he can read your mind, "lisa was yoongi's past but you are his present and most likely his future as well, so- seriously, don't even worry about it."

"yeah, you're right. it'd be silly of me to be upset about yoongi being with someone else when i wasn't even in the picture yet." you snort, reaching up to smack your own forehead gently, "okay! i'm feeling a little better. it would've been nice to not be informed about how horny they were for each other, but thank you for that detail-"

"yo, where are the snap ring pliers from my toolbox?" you turn just in time to see yoongi pop his head in, "i can't find them anywhere... i swear to god, everyone keeps borrowing my tools and 'forgetting' to put them back-" he rolls his eyes before looking over at you with a smile, "hi, baby-"

"hi yoongi-" you giggle, all your doubts and insecurities immediately fluttering away

see? nothing to worry about!

phEw

it feels like a weight's been lifted off your shoulders

"i think hoseok might've been using them earlier this morning." namjoon hums, "what do you need them for?"

"oh, lisa offered to help me out with the master cylinder repair and she needs 'em." yoongi points back over his shoulder, "you know how great she is with her hands-"

"woah, i thought-" your voice cracks slightly and you clear your throat, "i thought, uh- you were working on it yourself? like, i thought you didn't need any help and that's why i'm in here-"

"oh, i don't, but- well, lisa's good with fine-tuning so i might as well take advantage of her expertise while she's here." yoongi snorts before looking back over at namjoon, "you said hoseok had them?"

"yep!"

you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from commenting any further

it's fine!

as we've already established, you have nothing to worry about.

...right?

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

"and... voilà!" you smile satisfactorily to yourself after you set the scented candle down on the coffee table

the living room is going to smell like warm brown sugar and cinnamon in a few minutes and you can't wait

this is yoongi's favourite candle so you hope he'll be excited about that when he gets here :'))

you've been preparing the apartment for his arrival and lighting the candle was one of the last things on your to-do list

you still have to order dinner for tonight and you've always been awful at making decisions so you figured it'd be best to let yoongi choose instead

you haven't seen him for about a week and a half because of finals (and, being perfectly honest, you were the one who implemented this distancing rule in the first place because you know you won't be able to focus on studying when yoongi's in the apartment with you) so you're pretty pumped for tonight!!

you hum to yourself as you click on yoongi's phone number in your contacts, flopping back on the couch with a fwump! while your legs swing lazily over the arm

"hello?"

the phone picks up after a couple of rings and it takes you a second to realize that the voice on the other end certainly does not belong to your boyfriend

"he-" you pause, pulling your phone away from your ear and frowning at the unfamiliar voice before bringing it back, "um, hello?"

"hi! who's this?"

"who's this?" you point to yourself before scoffing lightly, "what do you mean who- who's this?"

"oh- oh, y/n! hey, it's lisa!" lisa greets enthusiastically and you relax a little knowing that it's just lisa, "sorry, i didn't look at the contact name before picking up- what's up?"

"well, i-" you pause again to recollect your thoughts, "um, sorry, i guess i was just expecting yoongi to pick up his own phone so i'm a little lost right now-"

"oh my gosh, don't even worry about it! yoongi's hands are super gross right now so i offered to take his call for him which is why i picked up the phone. is there something you wanted me to pass along to him?"

"yeah, you could pass his phone right along to him-" you joke before reminding yourself to keep the unnecessary cattiness to a minimum, "yeah, um- can you ask him what time he's coming over? so that i know what time to order our food and stuff? i want the food to still be nice and hot by the time he gets here, so i just need a time from him, that's all-"

"yeah, about that... i actually don't think yoongi's going to make it for dinner."

"i-" you frown, pushing yourself up so that you're leaning back against an elbow, "what? why not?"

"the thing is, i hooked him up with a bunch of clients so the poor thing's been working like a dog all day and it looks like he's going to be stuck here for a while... if you're worried about him skipping dinner, i can totally go and get some food for him if you want! there's this sandwich place a block away and i know what he likes-"

your eyes widen slightly at how... happy? lisa sounds about the fact that yoongi potentially won't be joining you for dinner and you nod to yourself as you clench your jaw

"that's- that's very kind of you, lisa-" your voice is a little pitchier than usual at this point and you clear your throat obnoxiously, "i'm sorry, i just really have to talk to yoongi for a second so if you could just, like, hold the phone up to his ear that would be okay too-"

"okay! gimme a sec." there's a bit of shuffling on the other end and you press your lips together as you wait (im)patiently, "yoongs! it's y/n... dinner... hot food... her place... clients... pretty busy tonight..."

and she even has a nickname for him

that's just downright adorable, isn't it?

"god, just give him the damn phone." you mutter under your breath, raising your other hand to inspect your cuticles as you lie back down on the couch

hm

you should probably schedule another manicure soon

"-it's okay, i can hold the phone myself- y/n?" you perk up when you hear yoongi on the other end and you can't help but kick your legs in excitement

you can't help it!!!

you haven't heard his voice in a whole week and a half!!!

"greetings, yoongs." you tease, "what time are you going to be here?" you bypass lisa's whole monologue about yoongi probably not being able to come over tonight in hopes that she'll be wrong about him ditching you to continue working, "i wanna order the food so it'll get here a little before you arrive. also, i haven't chosen what we're going to eat tonight so you're going to have to choose for us-"

"right, about that-" yoongi clears his throat, "i know i was supposed to come over for dinner tonight but- listen, i don't know what lisa did but obviously she's got a lot of connections now and the shop has literally never been this busy before..." he pauses and you hear the sound of loud clanging in the background, "you understand, don't you?"

it takes you a couple of seconds to process the fact that yoongi really won't be coming over tonight and you puff your cheeks out to keep yourself from immediately whining in protest

to say the least, you are.,.,,. very disappointed,.., but!! it won't be the end of the world, right?

you hate that lisa was right, but that's a conversation you can have with yourself another time

and if yoongi won't be here, that means you can hog all the garlic cheesy bread to yourself so maybe this is a blessing in disguise >:-)

"no, yeah, i- yeah, get it!" you nod, "i love that business is booming, i just don't love that you didn't text me or call me earlier to let me know you weren't going to come over tonight," you frown, turning your head to look at the flickering candle, "a heads up would've been nice, that's all..."

"i asked lisa to text you earlier when my hands were full... sorry, she must've forgot..."

"oh. yeah, i guess it could've slipped her mind." you respond dryly, "it would've taken, like, five seconds to text me-"

"okay, i-" you hear yoongi let out a small sigh before he speaks up again, "i'm sorry, baby, i really am- do you- i can come over now if you want me t-"

"no, it's okay! i'm sorry, i'm just-" you shake your head quickly before chuckling uneasily, "i just haven't seen you in a while so i miss you, that's all- but i'll let you get back to work now and i'll see you later?"

"yes! you are the best, you really are- look, i promise i'll be all yours as soon as i-"

"yoongi! these tires aren't going to change themselves, silly-"

"oh, c'mon-" you grumble, your teeth grinding slightly at the interruption of lisa's peppy voice in the background

"uh- yeah, in a sec-! i gotta go, doll- i'll call you later-"

"okay, b-" you don't get a chance to even say goodbye before the line goes dead and the only thing you can hear is an obnoxious beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep- "-ye."

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

one of your goals for the new year was to try your best to not hold a grudge

admittedly, holding grudges is one of your specialties so it's been a little bit difficult but you think you've been doing an okay job so far!

like that time jungkook accidentally drowned you with dirty car water because he didn't see you and also he had headphones on so he couldn't hear you

you were ready to strangle him right then and there but you just took a deep breath and reminded yourself that *~deep-cleaning services exist~*

and sure, you were a little upset that yoongi couldn't make it for dinner the other night and that the two of you haven't really had a chance to have a moment alone because of how swamped he's been with work, but... well, the past is in the past and challenges like this are good for your personal growth!

plus, it's the start of a new week so you're just going to focus on the present

you try your best to keep your footsteps as quiet as possible as you approach a preoccupied yoongi from behind

he's currently sorting out all the things to do on his giant whiteboard (you bought this for the boys because you thought it'd be a good way to organize all their tasks and unsurprisingly, namjoon was the most excited about it)

"guess who?" you hold your hands over yoongi's eyes with a giddy smile and he immediately spins around to face you

"hey, what are you doing here?" yoongi asks, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before pulling away to check the time on his watch, "aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"

"my history seminar was cancelled because my professor had some kind of an emergency so i thought i'd come and have lunch with you guys!" you hum, reaching over to fix the thin silver chain hanging around yoongi's neck, "i was going to pick the food up before coming here but i didn't want to just choose for everyone so i thought it'd be better to get everyone's orders first-"

"oh, you don't have to do that, baby-" yoongi shakes his head, capping the marker and dropping it back into the wire holder, "lisa actually offered to treat us to lunch- apparently there's some bagel place that has, like, a hundred different fillings-"

"lisa's here?" you interrupt, suddenly straightening your back before looking around quickly, "i... was not aware that lisa was... still here! i thought she was only here for a little while-"

"mm, she ended up extending her stay! one of her clients pushed their appointment to thursday so she came over to help out for the day."

"oh, cool." you nod, pressing your lips together as you take a second to sort through your thoughts

your nose scrunches slightly as you weigh the pros and cons of saying what you're about to say to yoongi

...

it won't kill you to ask, right?

"hey, i don't wanna, um-" you pause, "you know, i don't wanna... be that girlfriend, but... do you think that there's a slight possibility that lisa might still have feelings for you?"

a moment of silence goes by before yoongi practically barks out a laugh of disbelief

"what? lisa? no, no- that- no, don't be ridiculous." he snorts, shaking his head before turning back around to face the whiteboard, "lisa most certainly does not still have feelings for me- and, by the way, she was the one who broke things off with me, so if anything, i should be the one who still has feelings for-" he stops himself midway and presses his lips together before turning to glance at you over his shoulder, "you know, i'm hearing the words coming out of my mouth and i... am going to shut up now."

"mm, good choice." you raise a brow before shrugging, "alright, well, i just- you know, it's a possibility but if you say that lisa doesn't still have feelings for you, then i believe you-"

"alright, boys! it's chow time!"

you turn your head to see lisa waltzing into the shop carrying two large paper bags and the rest of the boys immediately rush over to her like moths to a flame

she brought bagels for lunch?

you're not trying to be biased or anything sandwiches are easier to eat, in your personal opinion

you basically have to unhinge your jaw to get a good bite of a bagel

"y/n!" lisa looks more than surprised at your presence when you and yoongi walk over the join the group, "i wasn't aware you were going to be here today- yoongi told me that you had class so i-" she pauses to set the bags down on the table, "oh my goodness, i am so sorry but i really didn't know you'd be joining us for lunch... yoongi, you could've texted me or something-"

"she just got here!" yoongi shrugs as he takes a seat at the table, "don't pin this on me-"

"ah, i probably look like such a jerk right now..." lisa winces, scratching the back of her head before reaching down to grab a bagel out of one of the paper bags, "here! you can take my bagel-"

"no, no, it's alright!" you hold your hands out before shaking them, "don't be silly, you don't have to do that- it's very nice of you to offer but i- it's alright, you go ahead and enjoy yourself!"

"oh, stop- take the bagel, y/n." lisa scoffs playfully, practically shoving the bagel into your arms before rummaging through the bags again, "i'll just share a bagel with yoongi! you don't mind, right, yoongs?"

"yeah, i had a snack earlier so i'm not, like, starving or anything-" yoongi nods, "what kind of filling is it?"

"this one is..." lisa pauses to look at the sticker on the top, "smoked salmon and dill cream cheese with capers."

"yoongi doesn't like capers." you chime in, suddenly feeling the need to prove to everyone that you know your boyfriend very well, "i remember they were sprinkled in a salad one time and he said they were too salty-"

"eh, i'll survive. i can always just pick 'em out." yoongi shrugs nonchalantly and you can't help but purse your lips in mild frustration at his response

"'atta boy! luckily, they're already sliced in half otherwise we'd have to take turns taking bites which would be weird-"

"agreed." you mutter, peeling the label off your bagel and sticking it onto the side instead

"oh, lisa! i was wondering if maybe you could help me out with some custom headlights i'm working on?" hoseok perks up, "i'm having some trouble getting the halo lights to work and i need your magic hands-"

"mhm! i can definitely check them out after lunch-" lisa grins, taking a seat next to yoongi, "anyone need a napkin?"

"yes, please!"

"i need one too-"

"pass one over here-"

you know it's silly of you to be feeling jealous over this because god knows the only thing you know about cars is that key go in and car go vroom so obviously the boys would never ask you to help them out with anything like how they're asking lisa to help out

and you're trying very hard to noT throw a self-pity party but it's getting harder and harder to not to that

(and it certainly doesn't help that there aren't any more seats left at the table)

you just can't help but feel so!!!!! inferior!!!!! compared to lisa

she's so cool and pretty and witty and obviously very knowledgable about cars

and what are you bringing to the table??

ham and cheese sandwiches??? fancy sushi rolls????

obviously not anymore because they've been replaced by these stupid bagels

this is the first time you haven't been able to throw money at a problem and you're not,.., sure.,., how you feel about it,..,

"i, uh, have to work on a paper, so i think i'm going to go and eat this in the office if anyone wants to come with?" you clear your throat quietly as you start to back away from the table slowly, "...or i can just go fuck myself, which is fine too."

you're not entirely surprised when your comment isn't acknowledged by anyone and you nod to yourself before swiftly turning on your heel and trying your best not to storm towards the office

you force your fists to uncurl and your shoulders to relax slightly but you can't help but make a face when you hear the boys laughing obnoxiously at one of lisa's jokes

of course she has to be funny as well

because the woman literally has zero flaws

you've been trying to find a reason to hate her and so far you haven't found anything negative to say

hating someone for having perfectly styled hair is a little odd

the legs of the chair screech against the floor as you pull it out and plop down

whatever

you like eating alone anyway

you unwrap the parchment paper and pick up the bagel before taking an overly aggressive bite of it, your cheeks practically bursting from how much food is currently in your mouth

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you chew, tossing the bagel back onto the wrapper with a thunk!

...

damnit!

this is the best goddamn bagel you've ever had in your entire life!!

"phtupid phriggin' bavhel." you grumble, reaching up to wipe the sauce off the corner of your mouth before swallowing roughly, "even the mayo is delicious! god, what is this? some kind of garlic mayo-"

"oh my god. i think she's finally lost it." you jolt upon hearing jungkook's voice and you turn to see him and jimin standing at the door

"what's your problem?" jimin asks, the two of them walking over to join you at your sad, lonely table

"what? nothing. i don't have a problem." you shake your head stubbornly, "i just- i just wanted to be alone, that doesn't mean something's wrong-"

"is that why you're in here basically yelling at a bagel?" jungkook points out as he pulls out a chair and sits on your right

"i'm- i'm just stressed about- my paper. or whatever. it's whatever, i'm fine-"

"you can talk to us, you know." you frown when jungkook suddenly reaches over and in an uncharacteristic move, places both hands over yours

"is it about lisa?" jimin asks, crinkling his nose as he sits down as well, "it's about lisa, isn't it?"

"no, it's not-" you press your lips together before letting out a light laugh, "you know, i don't even have a reason to be upset about lisa, right? she's super cool and very nice and knows a lot about cars and is yoongi's age and namjoon blessed me with the knowledge that she, apparently, was a very passionate lover- so i have nothing to be upset about!" you snap, slapping your palm down on the table before wincing and cradling your hand to your chest, "...everything is fine."

"i have to say, i really don't think jealousy is a good look on you." jungkook clicks his tongue before glancing down at your feet, "i also don't know if those shoes are a good look on you- jeez, it's like the people at gucci are just pulling design elements out of a hat-"

"you are not making me feel any better, jungkook- these shoes are new!"

"ooh, you should make him jealous!" jungkook suddenly lights up and the fluorescent light hanging above you guys flickers for a second

"we're going to have to round back to my shoes later because i really don't think they're that bad-"

"you should make him jealous and give him a taste of his own medicine..." jungkook trails off, ignoring your previous comments once again, "it's what you deserve."

"i'm not- i'm not doing that." you chuckle uneasily, "are you serious? this isn't high school and getting him back would just be petty of me-"

"but it'd feel so nice to be petty, don't you think?" jungkook encourages, scooting a little closer to you with a devilish grin, "think about it, y/n. don't you wanna see yoongi get all hot and possessive over you-"

"i don't think it's a good idea." jimin chimes in, shaking his head quickly as he moves in closer as well, "because if yoongi finds out you orchestrated something just to get him back, that might create an issue of trust in the relationship, and that would be very, very bad-"

"oh, but it feels so good to be bad..." jungkook coos, poking your arm with his pointer finger, "so, so good..."

"uh, i don't think so! i'd like to argue that it feels bad to be bad-"

"don't listen to jimin, he's a wuss-"

"don't listen to jungkook, he's an idiot-!"

"okay, cut it out!" you snap, shoving your hands into both their chests to keep them from coming any closer, "i... must admit, i do want to do something to piss yoongi off because of how much he's pissed me off, but... i'm not like that, you know? and i don't want to come off as some crazy girlfriend because-" you pause when you notice jungkook's finger creeping closer and closer to your bagel and you immediately deflate as soon as you realize what's going on here, "oh my god. you guys only came in here because you wanted to try my bagel, didn't you?"

jungkook and jimin exchange knowing glances before looking up at you sheepishly

"yeah, that makes more sense-" you snort, rolling your eyes before pushing the bagel away from you, "have at it, you animals."

you lean back against your chair, stroking your chin in thought as the sound of jungkook and jimin bickering over who gets the bigger half of the bagel starts to fade out

to be petty or not to be petty, that is the question...

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

(spoiler alert: the answer to the previous question is to be petty. very, very petty.) »»————- 🛠️ ————-««

"namjoon! where did you put my keys??" yoongi calls out, yanking open another drawer to rifle through its contents, "i'm supposed to pick y/n up from campus and i can't find them anywhere... i don't want her to just stand there waiting for me..."

"looking for these?"

yoongi looks up to see lisa standing by the door with his keys in her hand before she tosses them to him

"yes! you're a lifesaver, thanks-" he catches them with one hand before stepping out from behind the counter, "i thought you were leaving today? we already said goodbye to you this morning-"

"yeah, i know-" lisa chuckles as she steps into the office, "it's just that... well, i was going to just leave but i actually had something i needed to talk to you about before i left. i felt it wouldn't be fair to either one of us if i didn't say anything."

"mm. what's up?" yoongi hums, sticking his hand into the lollipop jar to pull a cherry flavoured one out

he pulls another one out before tucking it into his pocket (one for you when he picks you up!)

"well, i guess i should just go ahead and say it- just gotta rip the bandaid off-" lisa straightens her blazer before clearing her throat, "yes."

"...yes?" yoongi frowns, unwrapping his lollipop before popping it into his mouth and scrunching up the wrapper, "i'm not following. yes to what?"

"oh, don't play dumb-" lisa snorts, flicking her wrist at him, "yes, as in: i would love to rekindle our friends with benefits situationship-"

"woah, what?!" yoongi immediately chokes and he yanks the lollipop out of his mouth before patting his chest roughly, "what are you- what the hell are you talking about??"

"what do you mean what the hell am i talking about??" lisa stares at him incredulously before shaking her head, "you're the one who's been giving me secret signals all week-"

"signals-" yoongi's gawks, "what signals??"

"you know, like, how you cancelled dinner plans with her so you could be with me..." lisa croons, taking a step closer towards him

"i cancelled dinner plans with y/n so i could be with twenty cars-" yoongi inches to the side so he can make a quick getaway to run behind the counter in case lisa pounces, "which, i'm realizing doesn't make me sound like the best boyfriend but- i most certainly didn't cancel just to spend private time with you, no offence-"

"what about when we shared a bagel and you didn't complain about the capers??" lisa snaps, lunging towards yoongi only for him to quickly spin out of the way and hurry to get behind the counter

"uh, we shared a bagel because i wasn't hungry for a full bagel and i thought you weren't either, and also-" yoongi grabs namjoon's wheely chair as a makeshift barrier between him and lisa, "i'm a grown man, i'm not going to throw a fit over some friggin' capers-"

"how about when i squeezed your arm and asked you if you'd been working out and you totally flexed your arm for me??" lisa grabs the arms of the chair before yanking and aggressively rolling it behind her, yoongi's eyes widening in panic at the sudden empty space in between the two of them

"i flexed it to prove to you that i have indeed been working out-!" yoongi hops up onto the counter as soon as lisa darts towards him and he hurries to jump off so he's on the other side of it, knocking the phone and namjoon's pen holder down onto the ground in the process, "friends can ask each other if they've been hitting the gym!! i squeeze namjoon's arms all the time because his biceps are literally boulders-"

"i just feel like we have unfinished business, you know?" lisa whines, pausing for a second before bringing a hand up to bite down on the tip of her pointer finger teasingly, "plus, you have to admit that our sex was super hot-"

"are you- hello, i'm dating y/n!" yoongi gasps, "our business is finished! we have no more- we're out of business, lisa!"

"oh, c'mon." lisa raises a brow, clearly unimpressed with his reaction, "it's not going to hurt anyone to keep me as your sexy little secret- it's perfect! i only come into town, like, once or twice a year, so she won't even suspect anythi-"

"what are you- are you insane?! i'm not going to cheat on y/n-" yoongi chokes before raising his hands in defence, "lisa, you're a very beautiful woman and we do have a history, but- look, i'm sorry if i sent you mixed signals this week, that was certainly not my intention- please understand that i am very much not trying to cheat on someone who i love very much and who i'm pretty sure loves me back, so-"

"then who's that person she's so obviously flirting with right now?" lisa points over his shoulder, "also, she's barely visited you this week. what kind of girlfriend doesn't want to always be with her boyfriend??"

"first of all, space can be healthy, and second of all, she- hold on, you said flirting?" yoongi turns to look over his shoulder and out the door, tilting his head slightly when he sees you standing at the front of the garage laughing with... someone he certainly doesn't recognize...

"you can leave all of this behind and come and work for me, yoongi-" yoongi jumps when he suddenly feels hands grasping at the collar of his jumpsuit and he turns back to see lisa standing right in front of him (how did she move so quickly and quietly?!), "we can be happy together, i swear-"

"yeah, cool, just give me a second-" yoongi gently yanks lisa's hands off of him before hurrying out of the office and making a beeline right for you and this mysterious stranger

"oop- okay, he's coming this way-" baekhyun mutters, glancing over your shoulder before looking back at you, "it's show time. you ready?" he hums, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

"what do you think? do we look convincing?" you reach down to unbutton another button on your blouse before adjusting the collar

it's taking everything within you noT to whip around to see if yoongi's just walking towards you or if he's storming towards you... because there's definitely a difference and you definitely want it to be the latter

the plan you came up with had a pretty simple formula: one handsome stranger + one flirty, oblivious y/n = one jealous yoongi

jungkook had a point about how nice it'd be to get yoongi all riled up and possessive and frankly you think you deserve it considering how dismissive he's been with you all week... which is why you were more than happy to recruit your very handsome friend baekhyun (he's very sweet / you met last semester in one of your history courses / he was more than willing to help out with your plan because he's a theatre major and this is good practice for him) to help you out with your plan!

"you're laughing like a robot." baekhyun lowers his voice, "i told you to act natural-"

"i'm being natural! ha, ha! ha! ha-ha. you're so funny, baek-" you giggle obnoxiously, reaching over to slap his chest gently, "you are absolutely the funniest person i've ever met-"

"y/n!" yoongi clears his throat loudly and you bite back a grin at the hint of annoyance you can detect in his voice, "i... thought i was picking you up from class today? i wasn't aware you hired a chauffeur!"

"oh, yoongi!" you spin around, feigning surprise as if you totally weren't expecting to see him at all, "oh, this is actually my friend- i know you've been busy so he offered to give me a ride!" you hum, stepping aside to let baekhyun step up onto the sidewalk, "baekhyun, this is yoongi-" you gesture to yoongi, "yoongi, this is baekhyun! ...my boyfriend."

you're hoping your accidental on-purpose flub-up triggers yoongi's memory of how he accidentally introduced lisa to you as his girlfriend and you're delighted to see the way yoongi's jaw drops slightly, "oh, my bad! i'm sorry, i don't know how that happened- what i meant to say was baekhyun, this is yoongi, my boyfriend. there we go."

"baekhyun..." yoongi repeats, his eyes narrowing slightly when baekhyun suddenly wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a squeeze "well, that's very nice of you to drive y/n all the way here. thanks for doing that, man."

"oh, it's no problem at all!" baekhyun hums, reaching over to pinch your cheek, "y/n's the sweetest and i didn't want to abandon her on campus-"

"okay, she wasn't abandoned, i was literally about to leave to pick her up-" yoongi points out, lifting his keys with a jingle before abruptly shoving them into his back pocket, "you know, y/n's never mentioned a baekhyun before. you two seem... close!"

"oh, baek and i go way back." you snort, digging your elbow into his side with a grin, "isn't that right, baek?"

baek

yoongi pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek at the fact that baekhyun still has his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you haven't made a move to shoVE it off

how can you not see that his intentions with you aren't just chummy??

he wouldn't have driven you all the way here if he didn't want to get his grubby hands under your skirt-

"we most certainly do! we made some great memories in that lecture hall- i have to say, i was, uh, pretty disappointed when i found out she was already in a relationship..." baekhyun sighs dramatically, shaking his head before looking back at you, "i would treat you right and never cancel dinner plans with you-"

"okay, i think it's time for you to go, bacon-" yoongi forces a smile on his face before reaching over to gently pull you towards him, "thank you for dropping my girlfriend off. have a good one."

"oh, no problem!" baekhyun points towards you, "hey, lemme know if you need a ride to campus on monday because i'd be happy to swing by your apartment and-"

"no, i can take her!" yoongi manoeuvres you so that you're standing behind him and basically blocked from baekhyun's sight, "i've got it from here, thanks."

"bye, baek!" you wave at baekhyun as gets into his car and he salutes at you before his right eye drops in a cheeky wink and it's at that point that yoongi really thinks he's about to lose it

what the hell was that?!

he spins around to face you as soon as baekhyun zooms off and you keep yourself from asking him why his ears have suddenly turned super red

"why are you wearing lowbuttons to class?" yoongi crosses his arms over his chest, "i thought you said you were going to use them as, like, apartment decoration."

"louboutins, yoongi." you correct, looking down at your slick stilettos, "and why can't i wear louboutins to class?"

"you wore them out to dinner one time and i ended up having to carry you back to the car because your feet were aching-" yoongi reminds you with a pointed tone, "are you telling me that you walked up and down and all around campus in those things?"

"maybe i did." you shrug, turning to stick your nose up in the air a little, "i can wear stilettos to class if i so please."

"and the miniskirt?"

"what, you don't like it?" you pout, reaching down to pick a piece of fluff off the surface, "it's new!"

it's a plain black skirt but it has a little slit on the side and you purposely bought this specific piece knowing that yoongi has expressed how much he likes you in black

"of course i like it, and obviously i'm a big fan of the heels but-" yoongi huffs, "all i'm saying is that it's a little odd- the timing is weird for your miniskirts and heels to make a sudden comeback now that you're all buddy-buddy with this backyawn-"

"it's baekhyun-"

"that's what i said!"

"you know, i don't know what you're implying here but i haven't done anything wrong-" you shrug, "are you feeling okay? maybe you need to take a nap-"

"stop being stubborn, y/n. just tell me what's going on!"

"nothing's going on!" you insist, raising your hands in defense before flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder, "everything is perfectly fine and nothing is-"

"are you leaving me for baekhyun?" yoongi interrupts, his eyes suddenly softening, "because if this is how you're telling me we're over, it's a pretty shitty-"

"what- what?? no!" you shake your head quickly, "no, of course i'm not- why would you even- okay, fine! fine, i-" you let out a breath and your shoulders drop a little, "it's just that... i don't know, it kind of feels like i've been fighting to get your attention for the whole week and i... i feel like i shouldn't have to do that as your girlfriend, you know? and i'm not... i guess i just felt like i wasn't stacking up to lisa and how cool and smart she is and- this whole week it's just felt like you're in a relationship with lisa and not me, so i... wanted to make you jealous to see if you still cared. or whatever."

"are you serious?" yoongi's eyes flutter shut and he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, "fuck, i'm sorry, ah- i'm sorry, y/n, i really am-" his brows knit together in remorse as he looks at you, "i think i just got swept up in all the new clients she was bringing in so i was focusing more on that than on noticing what was going on with you... i'm sorry. why didn't you just come and talk to me about it?"

"i didn't know how." you mutter, reaching up to scratch the side of your head, "i've never had to deal with something like this before, so... i know it was silly of me to come up with this whole thing-"

"you are my girlfriend, y/n." yoongi reminds you, his voice softening, "not lisa. it's you." he reaches over to hook a finger under your chin so he can get you to look at him, "i promise i only have eyes for you, pretty girl. you still love me?"

"god, yoongi-" you feel your cheeks flush at the nickname and you roll your eyes playfully before turning your head, "yeah. duh."

"oh, you silly thing..." he tuts, pulling you in for a hug and propping his chin up on the top of your head, "i'm sorry, baby. i really didn't mean to make you feel like that..." he pulls away and reaches down to glide his finger down the bridge of your nose before poking the tip, "i hope you can forgive me for being a shitty boyfriend."

"i'll forgive you if you forgive me for pretending to flirt with someone else." you smile sheepishly, yoongi grinning before nodding in agreement

"deal." he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you head back towards the direction of the office, "so you really went through all that trouble just to make me a little jealous?" yoongi grins, "just for a little bit of attention? as if i'm not already all over you when we're alone-"

"well, it worked, didn't it?" you take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you squish your cheek against yoongi's shoulder and look up at him, "my acting skills are not half bad, if i do say so myself-"

"oh, shit, uh-" yoongi suddenly stops in his tracks when he sees lisa step out of the office and he spins around so that his back is facing her, "not to make you worry, but you should probably know that lisa's somehow convinced that i've been secretly flirting with her all week because i want to become friends with benefits again and she almost, like, body-slammed me in the office- also, if namjoon asks, tell him a raccoon snuck in and that's why his desk is a mess and his pens are all over the floor-"

"wait, what?!" your brows knit together and you're about to lean over to look at lisa but yoongi quickly reaches out and grabs onto your shoulders to keep you in place

"-yeah, so i'm going to lay you down on the hood of that car now because doing something extreme is probably the only thing that'll prove to her that she's wrong and i am very desperate to show her that she's wrong-"

"lay me down on the- and do what?! yoongi-!" you don't get much of a chance to say anything else before yoongi's suddenly bending down to pick you up off the ground in one swift movement, his fingers digging underneath your thighs as he lays you down on the hood of the nearest car, "yoongi-! you can't just-"

"shush!" yoongi hisses, pressing his lips against yours to shut you up promptly

"mmvph-"

it doesn't take you very long to melt into the kiss once you realize you haven't kissed yoongi like this in like a week and a half and you can't help but smile at the familiar faint taste of cherry you're getting from him

yoongi's warm hand slides down from your waist so he can hitch your left leg up against his hip, one of your heels slipping from your foot and clattering onto the floor

your senses are so clouded with yoongi cherry yoongi cherry that you nearly forget the two of you aren't alone (and also, all of this is definitely being recorded on the security cameras right now)

"hey, so- i- i'm gonna get going-" lisa announces loudly as she stands at a good distance away from the two of you, her eyes looking up towards the ceiling so that she doesn't have to watch the way yoongi's kissing down your neck, "i have to check out of my hotel, so-"

"yeah, sounds good!" yoongi pulls away for a second and shoots a quick thumbs up over his shoulder, "see you later, pal!"

"bye, lisa!" you chime in, giving her a wave even though she isn't looking at you and is really trying to double-time it to her car, "it was so nice meeting you!"

the two of you watch silently as lisa practically leaps into her mustang, the sound of the engine revving before she quickly speeds off like she just remembered she left the oven on at home

you turn your head to look up at yoongi before scoffing lightly, hooking a finger against his chain to pull him back down towards you, "you're ridiculous, you know that?"

"yeah, i know-" yoongi's nose crinkles before he offers you a boyish smirk and a half-hearted shrug, "you love it, though."

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!) ✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!) 💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles like this one!) 🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

[hallowcked]

As Brooke climbs up into Tyler's lap, he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her close. This is what he needs; to feel Brooke clinging onto him like she always does. Injuries be dammed. He doesn't like when she's too careful around him. He wants to be hugged and cuddled and loved on. Brooke's the only person he lets touch him this way, and when he goes too long without her, he becomes starved for it. "You don't have to be worried about me. I'm fine." He knows that sounds like such a copout. They both use 'I'm fine' even when they're not. But in this case, he truly is okay. In fact, he's more than okay. His thumbs brush along her smooth hips as he looks up, into her eyes. They're soft and full of light again. Just the sight of them makes his heart sing. He could hold eye contact with her all day and it wouldn't feel weird.

"I know you're talking to me but, I don't want you to worry. I have a few scrapes and cuts but you took care of me." He leans forward and presses his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. It's these moments when he feels the most grateful to be alive. For as long as Brooke loves him, he'll continue fighting tooth and nail to survive. Just so he can kiss her lips and tell her that he loves her. Over and over again until she's sick of it. "We haven't played a question game since Davey's Diner three years ago. Anything you ask, I'll answer honestly. I promise." He leans back against the soft cushions and relaxes under the weight of her small frame. The only thing missing is the fireplace being lit. It would feel nice against the chilly breeze.

A smile lights up his face at the barrage of questions she hurls at him. There's nothing he wants more than a family. That's all he's ever wanted. "When I think of our future, I see us with three or four kids. We're living together and married. We have big holidays and we invite all our friends over." Okay, they only have Volchok and Isadora as friends. There's also Riley and Jake. The latter gives him a headache but he knows he means something to Brooke. Therefore, he won't ask her to cut him out of their lives. "Yes, that includes Jake because I know he's important to you." He rolls his eyes and smiles despite the pain in his side. "I'm not going to lie, Brooke. I think about having kids with you all the time. It doesn't matter when. I know you're on birth control, but I don't stop myself from cumming in you because having a child with you would never be a mistake or an accident. I wouldn't see it that way. I know we're young and still in school. But all I ever wanted was a family and I want that with you." His arms tighten around her a bit, keeping her close. "I always dreamed of meeting you. I know you're the girl I want to marry." he sighs and looks away at the more difficult question. "As for the Vipers and the Hotel, I'm hoping I'll be done with that. Well, I don't have to hope. I would be done with that. I would prioritize my family. Even if that means leaving Riverwood behind. Forever." Wanting to hear what she thinks, he looks up and caresses her cheek. "What about you, pretty eyes? What does our future look like to you?"

"What?" She's caught off guard by the question, and whatever it is that may have led him to that conclusion. Brooke couldn't be happier that Seth was out of the picture, once and for all. If anything, she worries about Tyler's mental state. What guilt would come, if any, should someone discover Seth's mutilated body (or corpse) in his apartment? He was already so emotionally damaged and stunted, Brooke didn't want to make that worse for him. She doesn't want to be the reason, Tyler kills people. Or brutally beats them until they're laying in a pool of their own blood, unconscious. As hot and comforting as it may be too, knowing the extreme lengths he'd go to in order to protect her and protect their unborn child.

It's because of that last part that Brooke seems off. And Tyler clearly notices. The only person, or two people now -- who know her secret are Jake and Isadora. Jake, because she told him the other night when they hung out. And Isadora because she was there when Brooke received medical confirmation from her doctor this morning. Now, she has to find an OB/GYN, start taking prenatal vitamins every day, and try her best to limit any stresses in her life seeing as this was her second pregnancy and the first one resulted in a miscarriage. "It's not that," Brooke attempts to reassure him as she sits up in his lap. She can feel the nerves percolating in the pit of her stomach as she rubs her hands over her thighs in a calming gesture. "I'm not disappointed in you. I'm just worried about you. In general." She loves him, obviously, so worrying about him on a daily basis is a given. "Plus, I don't see you that way." The manner in which he describes himself is not how Brooke views him. She'd argue he's the perfect balance of someone who's mature and angry, given his troubled upbringing. And she can't fault him for being insecure or impulsive because she is too when it comes to him. "I am talking to you," she nudges him, with a sardonic smile. Although, she knows what he actually means. But, what he's asking... she doesn't feel prepared to share. She remembers what Isadora said earlier that morning though. If you want to ease into it, ask him hypothetical questions like, 'do you want kids? Could you see us having children together someday? Have you ever thought about starting a family?'

"There's something I have to ask you..." To take some of the edge off, Brooke grabs an individualized piece of gauze to tape over his stitched wound. It's to keep the dirt and germs from getting in it and infecting it and it gives her something to focus on aside from his face which makes her nervous. "I know we've talked about it before but... Isadora and I hung out this morning and the topic sort of came up randomly and I just thought, I'd pick your brain if that's okay..." She knows she's dragging this out but, there's a lot riding on his answers. "Do you still want to have kids with me, someday? I mean... when you picture a future with me, what does that look like? How soon would you like to start? How many kids do you want to have? What would that mean for the Vipers or your obligation to the hotel business?"