#i gotta do my laundry and clean and all my packing today oh god

[six-of-ravens]

[insert dawn of the final day meme here]

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

[teddy06writes]

Some unspoken thing

Karl Jacobs x Reader 

requested: no

Trigger warnings: mentions of covid, mild descriptions of a panic attack

premise: You and Karl have been friends, for years now, and now even your friends are starting to see that unspoken thing between you

“---” talking

‘---’ talking through a call

(y/s/n) -  your screen name

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

You’d known Karl since you were at least 10, and you both agreed that you’d been together forever, through thick and thin it was always you and Karl against the world. You and your unspoken thing.

When he’d first spoken of moving away from Portland you weren’t too sure, mostly because of college, but still, you found yourself here, sprawled across a couch, exhausted from hauling boxes up to your apartment. 

“Why did we bring so much stuff?” You groaned as Karl picked up your legs long enough to sit down, then letting them drop into his lap. 

He sighed, “Don’t quote me on this, but it was you who couldn’t pack your stuff into less than 20 boxes.” 

“Yah okay Mr. ‘I can’t be bothered to even clean this laundry before I pack it up to leave’.” You scoffed.  

“That's not true! I washed most of it...” Karl trailed off pulling out his phone, “Pizza?” 

“Obviously.” 

Soon the pizza arrived and as Karl went to the door to grab it, you went and grabbed two monsters from the fridge, sitting back down in front of the couch as Karl came back with the pizza. 

“Ey I gotta pizza here!” He exclaimed, setting it down. 

“Eyyyyyyy!” You handed him one of the monsters, opening your own as he sat down, already starting to pull up an old episode of survivor. 

Once the pizza had been finished, and the left overs put away you ended up half cuddled together on the couch, your fingers softly carding through his hair. 

^^

“Hey! I’m back!” You called, looking around the seemingly empty apartment, confused, “Karl?” 

It had been a few months since, you’d moved out to North Carolina, and so far online school hadn’t been too bad even when corona hit, not with Karl and streaming to distract you from the reality of the world around you.

You went back to looking around for your friend, calling, “Hey, Karl where’d you go?” 

Sighing you followed the soft, muffled sobs to Karl’s room, knocking on the door softly, “Honey, are you in there?” 

There was silence, then a muffled, “un uh.” 

You pushed open the door gently, blinking into the mild darkness and turning to see Karl sitting on his bed, half curled into the wall and wrapped in a sweater he’d stolen from your closest a few weeks ago. 

Immediately  you crossed the room, climbing onto the bed next to him and pulling him into your arms, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

His arms drifted around your waist, burying his into your chest, “They all hate me.” He murmured. 

“Who do you think hates you?” You cooed. 

“Dream and Sapnap and everyone.”

“They don’t hate you, no one on the smp hates you.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “What happened?” 

“I said somethin stupid, (y/n), I messed everything up.” 

You knew not to push any further, instead just doing your best to hold him closer, whispering, “They don’t hate you, they’d never hate you okay? It’ll all blow over and everything will be okay. I promise.” 

“What if it doesn’t (y/n)? What if I messed it up forever?” 

“You didn’t baby, you didn’t. It’s gonna be alright, I promise.” 

^^

“Ahhhhhh leave me alone!” You half shrieked, running away from Sapnap and Quackity on the dream SMP. 

‘Imposter! Imposter!’ They chanted. 

“I’m just supposed to be babysitting the chat!” You yelled, “I didn’t sign up to bully on a twitch stream! If I wanted that I would’ve been on my own stream!”

Sapnap laughed, ‘Oof! That's sad.’ 

“I know,” You said dramatically, “No one has any respect for (y/s/n), not you, not my chat, not even Karl!” 

‘We all know thats not true.’ Quackity scoffed. 

You half turned, giggling as Karl, came back into the room, “Debatable.” 

“What’s uh, whats going on?” He asked. 

“I’m being bullied, that's what's going on,” The chat started to fill with hearts and ‘(y/s/n) support.’, “Also I’ve decided since your chat likes me more than mine, so this is my stream now, I’m taking over.” 

Karl just half sighed, grabbing the chair from your desk on the other side of the office, and wheeling it over, sitting down next to you, propping his legs in your lap. 

‘(y/n) the world wants to know, how does it feel to now fill the void where Karl Jacobs once sat?’ Quackity asked, through a voice filter. 

“Well, since my dear friend Karl died,” 

“I’m not dead!” He interjected.

You sniffed, “Sometimes I can still hear his voice.”

“Dear friend?” Sapnap scoffed, “Al- Quackity look at the stream and tell me if they look like ‘dear friends’.” 

You face started to grow red, as both Nick and Alex began to catcall at you two, Karl, clearly getting confused as you ducked your head, face entirely red. 

“Whats the matter (y/n)? You got a crush?” Nick teased. 

Half covering your mouth you muttered, “Just some unspoken thing.” 

^^

“If I were to tell you that I kinda sorta didn’t listen to you, and forgot to buy more cereal, what would you say?” Karl asked, shrugging off his backpack as he came into the apartment. 

When he got no real response, he started to look around, finding you a minute later, laying on his bed, “Did’ja hear me?” 

“ehhhh... I don’t really care.” 

His brow furrowed upon hearing your monotonous, “You okay? What’s up?” 

You were still staring up at the ceiling “Grey, ‘s all grey.”

Sighing he came and sat down on the bed next to you, taking one of your hands in his, “Grey?” 

“Sad brain makes everything grey.” 

Karl fiddled with your fingers a moment, before raising them to his lips and softly pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll go make you tea.” 

He headed out of the room, leaving you to sit up and stare at the ceiling wondering what you’d done to deserve someone like him. 

He headed out of the room, leaving you to sit up and stare at the ceiling wondering what you’d done to deserve someone like him. 

A few minuets later he came back with a mug, handing it to you before he sat down behind you, wrapping his arms around you, “Is there a reason for sad brain today?” 

“Everything's just- blah. I’m just tired.” 

He didn’t need to ask to understand you didn’t mean physically, so instead he just pulled you gently to lean against his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to the edge of your jaw, “Okay?”

You knew Karl had a hard time with words sometimes, and you had long since learned how to listen for the meanings between simple phrases, and especially the weight of certain words, “Okay.” 

^^

‘So what is with you and Karl?’ Niki asked. 

You sighed, “I do not even know where to begin to answer that question.”

You were sitting in a discord call with her, originally trying to plan a joint stream but the conversation had switched.

‘I mean, if you don’t mind me saying so, it seems like your dating.��� 

“Well...” You considered it for a moment, you knew that your feelings for Karl were more than platonic, and had been for a long time, to you, it almost seemed like a fact of the world, the sky is blue, the earth is round, you loved Karl. 

“We've never talked about it, but- I suppose we- uhhh, you know what we’ll just say a little bit.” You quickly changed what you were going to say to be more ambiguous as Karl entered the room yelling, “Hi Niki!” 

‘I know you can’t hear me but hi Karl!’ She yelled back. 

You laughed, turning in your chair, “Niki says hi!” 

Karl grinned, leaning on the back of your chair, “Oh, yeah, dinners ready.”  and Niki raised her eyebrows, smirking at you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You laughed, feeling Karl’s chin coming to rest on the top of your head. 

‘I’m not looking at anything.’ she insisted, ‘you would be a cute couple.’

Your face started to turn red, “Shut up!” 

‘It was a compliment!’ Niki laughed. 

“I know!” 

Karl’s face grew confused, “What?”

“It’s nothing. Niki I’ve gotta go, we’ll see about the stream tomorrow, okay?” 

‘yeah, bye!’ 

“Bye!” 

You disconnected from the call, “Dinner?” 

“Yeah! I managed not to burn the chicken!” 

You couldn’t help but grin, “Awesome!” 

^^

“I swear- either there both oblivious or there just really good at keeping it just hidden enough!” Dream exclaimed. 

“I mean if we don’t find out for another two weeks, I get a hundred dollars, so by all means let it drag out.” Quackity laughed. 

Sapnap groaned, “Actually its more like three hundred now, Hbomb, Skeppy and Wilbur all put in more money.” 

“Well I asked the other day,” Niki began, “and they only said, ‘a little bit’, What does that even mean?” 

“Maybe they are dating and that's (y/n)s way of dismissing it.” Tubbo said. 

You were listening to the discord call, trying not to laugh, as Tommy suggested, “Well it’s possible they are dating but like, haven’t realized it?” 

Everyone began to laugh, “Wait- wait hear me out! Hear me out! Like- you know when on like romcoms and shit where two bestfriends end up like there dating even when they technically aren’t and then they accidently kiss!” 

George scoffed, “That's not a thing.” 

“Well still!” Tommy tried to argue. 

“Not even in movies though.” Niki said. 

“Your right,” You laughed, unmuting, “We haven’t kissed yet, so it must not be a thing.” 

The vc went deadly silent as Tommy began to laugh hysterically, “Were you here the whole time?” 

“Maybe.” You laughed. 

“Wait- so are you and Karl together or not?” Dream questioned. 

“Uhhh, let you know when I find out? Do I get the money if I figure it out?” 

“Oh my god (y/n).” Tubbo was trying not to laugh himself as Tommy continued to lose his shit. 

“Yeah,” You looked over to where Karl was half asleep, leaning against you, “I’ve said it before, and I guess I’ll say it again, it’s just some unspoken thing.” 

^^

Music filled the apartment when you entered, some old song by Sinatra, and Karl was dancing around the living room as you pulled off your coat and mask. 

“Are you listening to Sinatra?” You questioned, setting the rest of your things down. 

“Come dance with me!” He giggled. 

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you grabbed his hand, letting the other come to rest on his shoulder, “God, it’s been so long since I’ve dance.” 

“Come on, you remember don’t you?” 

You chuckled, “Back, side, forward, back. Technically this isn’t a waltzing song though.” 

“You can waltz to anything if you try hard enough,” Karl insisted, “Ready, and- one two three, one two three...” 

You fell into step, quietly humming along to the song as you moved in a slow arc around the room.

“..And- spin out...” Karl murmured, gently spinning you out to the side, and you paused for a a moment before he tugged on you arm, causing you to spin back in, finding yourself, face to face with him. 

You laughed nervously, suddenly blushing at the feeling of his arms around you. 

“What are we?” Karl asked softly, “Like, what is- this?” 

“Some unspoken thing.” Your voice was just as low, suddenly the weight of the hand resting on your lower back seeming to double.

He looked at your lips, then back at your eyes, and you nodded softly, leaning in and pressing your lips together. 

Your arms drifted around his waist as he pulled you closer, before you separated, smiling. 

“Does that mean it’s spoken now?” Karl asked. 

You grinned, “Course.” 

Later, after spending the rest of the night like any other you were cuddled up together on the couch, watching the newest episode of survivor, and you pretended not to notice as he gushed to someone through text. 

Your phone began to buzz with  venmo notifications, and Karl looked at you confused, “(y/n), why is everyone paying you?” 

You chuckled, “Reaping the benefits of our friends conspiring in a discord call that was left open.” 

After the kiss you had sent one text to a group chat; ‘I figured it out: pay up bitches.’

[lengthofropes]

POVs series

Part 2: Sam

(Part 1: Cas is here)

----------

words: 3,3k | smr: Sam’s POV as Cas returned from the Empty | read on A03

rating: general | warnings: none I guess?

----------

I’ve never seen Cas drinking through a straw. I’ve never seen him having a milkshake either, but here he is. On the backseat of Impala, with Dean sitting next to him and laughing as hard as he possibly can. 

“What is so funny?” Cas frowns at him, sounding sincerely confused. Dean can’t answer cause he’s literally choking with snickering. To be honest, yeah, this is one of the funniest things I’ve seen in years.

“You’re… you’re just slurping so loud!” Dean finally manages, wiping a laugh tear from his eye. "Cas, you gotta…” and he can’t finish the sentence because he's breathless with laugh again. 

"I don't understand. Is this supposed to be a dessert?" Cas asks. 

“Yeah, we can’t make a decent milkshake at home, so I thought you should try it here” Dean’s still giggling, but slowly calms down. “I know you like peanut butter with strawberry jelly, so maybe you'd like a strawberry milkshake too” 

“Oh. This is too sweet” 

And I swear Dean is slightly blushing now, I swear! This is even funnier than Cas slurping, but I’m holding back a smile cause yeah, this is too sweet.

“Yeah, umm… No, I just… I though you’d like it…”

“I like it, but it’s too sweet.” Cas looks at him and adds “The milkshake”

“Oh!…”

This time I can’t hold it back and just burst out with laughter.

“What’s so funny again?” Castiel is confused even more, I can see in a back view mirror. 

“Nothing” - Dean to Cas.

“Shut up!” - Dean to me. But I just can’t stop.

“Gimme that!” - to Cas again, taking the milkshake from his hand and slurping even louder than Cas. "It's not too sweet it's just perfect!"

We haven't laughed like this for a long time, too long.

Through the months Castilel’s been absent, times were tough sometimes. Me and Dean, we had to sort out a lot of stuff, and believe me, it wasn’t that easy.  

We talked about a lot of things, then. We started with the simplest.  

What are we about to do now? Continue hunting? Get ourselves a decent jobs? Should we move somewhere else? 

Move, huh. We weren’t ready to, at that point, guess we’re not ready still, not sure if we actually want to. Not sure, we know where to, how to, even. So many things have changed, we needed at least something to stay the same, stay solid for us. So we kind of… continued our usual routine in the bunker, with an exclusion of hunting for a while. We needed a rest. Probably, sticking up with the domestic stuff helped. You wake, make yourself breakfast, you eat, you read or watch movies, you make some calls, you exercise, you shower, you sleep. You do groceries, laundry, cleaning. You, being normal. Functional, pretty much. Slowly accepting your new world and the life you're now living. Like, piece by piece, understanding and acceptance comes.

Bunker felt so... I don’t know, remarkably unoccupied those days? 

Weird, cause we used to live here on our own, sometimes for weeks. Sometimes even months. But now it was… I guess it’s just knowing, that this time someone won’t come back here, this knowing… it made it hard to walk those corridors. I missed Cas. I missed Jack, too. But… you know. 

First month we stayed at the Bunker on our own. I mean, of course I went to see Eileen, it’s the first thing I wanted to do after everyone returned. I don’t even know how I can describe the feeling when I've read the message from her. I… 

We were driving home. With Miracle, sleeping on the backseat. And Jack’s “I’m not coming home” still too loud in our ears. And my phone beeped. It was her. She was the first person we got a message from. 

“Hey, Sam” 

That’s it, “Hey, Sam” - and it’s easier to breathe. I remember, I couldn’t text her back, just kept looking and looking at my phone.

“Eileen?” Dean asked.

“Yeah… yeah. She’s… she texted” 

I literally could add nothing to that. Dean just smiled, but didn’t say anything.

Rest of the road we called and called everyone, checking, laughing on loudspeaker, explaining, repeating the story about Chuck all over again. It was good. Those were the moments worth fighting for - hearing the voices of your family again. We were so happy, so relieved. And free, at last.

Next day the first thing Dean said to me, was that I need to go to see Eileen. 

“Nope, now! Pack your shit and go! ‘Cmon, Sammy, do me a favor, huh?”

Not sure I need to explain the argument between us, cause I didn’t want to leave him alone. Or should I say, the argument inside my head between me and me, the one who cares about my brother, and the one who loves Eileen. But well, he insisted, he insisted hard. And I’d lie if I say, to see her alive and well, to finally hold her, wasn’t on top of my needs. 

So yeah, Dean understood me even better than I did myself. He assured me, that everything’s gonna be fine, and he has work to do - go to the vet with Miracle and buy all the things we need to make the bunker a home for her, too.

I came back home in two days. Eileen went for a long trip to meet up with all her friends, and she promised to come to the bunker in few weeks. And stay for a little longer. Dean was pretty excited, though, even asked why the hell I didn’t bring her back with me immediately. So yeah, visiting her friends was a nice excuse to… 

He needed time. 

I didn’t tell him how heartbroken she was, when I told her Cas was gone. 

He needed time. And I needed to stay close. Because even if I’ve lost my dearest friend, Dean have lost way more than that.

Dean seemed “normal”. Not sad, not unnaturally cheerful, not heartbroken, not… anything. And it was scary as hell. I didn’t try to talk to him. He didn’t try to talk to me. Geez, at that time, I didn’t even knew how exactly it all happened. How did Cas summoned the Empty? Why it took him? But I just waited. I just think it’s time, when…it’s time. Because one thing I knew for sure, something in Dean has changed. Changed very deep. And it wasn’t a grief, no, that was something else. 

One morning I saw him looking at himself in a bathroom mirror. I just stood at he door, not to interrupt, cause the look on his face was… like he was examining himself, actually seeing something for the first time. Figuring, if he likes it or not. 

So, I was there, and I was waiting for him to be ready to share. Giving him time and space. 

Dean quit drinking. 

He just stopped. I didn’t bring it to his attention, that I’ve noticed. It’s just one day I passed him a bottle of beer in the kitchen, and he mumbled something like “nah, I’m good”, and next day I saw him opening the fridge to pour himself some orange juice. And the next day, we were watching something, and I put a cold six pack on a table. He didn’t touch it. So I just quit offering. 

I didn’t ask.

 Now Dean is siting next to Cas on a backseat. Today, it’s been two weeks since Jack brought him back home, but Dean is still always around him, ready to catch him if he is dizzy again (yeah, it still happens sometimes), or he’s disoriented, or unexpectedly weak. Cas feels much better, though. But we constantly keep an eye on him. Well, I’d say I try to, but Dean doesn’t seem to let me, you know?  Actually, it’s the first time he left the bunker in these two weeks. He rarely even leaves Cas’ room, though, maybe only when he cooks for him or goes to the library to grab another book. When Cas falls asleep, he walks out, and we usually talk in the kitchen or wherever. 

 When we go to sleep to our rooms, Dean doesn’t stays in his for long. 

Two months ago he couldn’t sleep in his room, too, but the reasons were different. I remember constantly finding him in the morning, sleeping anywhere else but his bed. Face on the table in the kitchen, in the armchair in the library, on the couch in his cave. One time I’ve found him in the backseat of Impala in the garage. Dean used to drink himself to sleep, when times were tough. Now that he quit, he just stayed up until he passed out. No need to be genius, to figure he’s been having nightmares. No need to be genius, to figure what those nightmares were about. I still see the burning ceiling in my dreams, rarely, but yeah, I do.

And yeah, he told me he’s having nightmares. He told me not to worry about it, cause it’s a normal reaction, and it will pass. 

What he didn’t told me, Jack did.

That day, I woke up and went to the kitchen to fill my water bottle and go for a jog. Jack was there. Just standing next to the fridge, drinking milk.

To be honest, at first I thought I was still dreaming. But then he raised his hand “hi” and I… 

“Hi Sam!”

“Jack… is it really you? I mean… hey!” I’m not sure if I supposed to hug God but well, I did. And he hugged me back and for a moment it felt like everything is back as it used to be. As it used to be, yeah. Our kid drinking milk in our kitchen.

It was 6 in the morning, and I’ve had one of the most complicated conversations I’ve ever had in my life.

Jack told me everything. About the deal Cas made to save him. About the price of that deal. 

About Dean praying to him every single night for the past weeks. 

Jack was good, though, he coped very well with all his new responsibilities; hell is fine, Earth is fine, new Death is great, heaven is getting some renovations, and angels are finally calm and satisfied. The only problem is the Empty. Since he detonated himself in front of Cosmic Entity, he has no idea what was  happening there. If Chuck was able to bring angels and demons from there, it changed, apparently, after the explosion, because the structure of the void has been damaged.

“Every time I try to reach it, it’s like I’m walking in the dark, like I’ve lost the path and I have no idea where I should go. I tried to summon the Entity, tried to open the portal - nothing works.” Jack looked concerned and dreary. “I don’t know what is happening there. I can only guess, everyone’s awake there. And they all are supposed to rest, supposed to sleep. If I made them suffer…” He looked at me with remorse in his eyes. “Castiel is there too. Sam, what if he…”

I felt sick. What if Jack’s right? What if all the dead angels and demons are going crazy in there? What if Cas sacrificed himself again only to suffer for the eternity?

“They all deserve to rest, and I need to make sure they are. And I want him back, Sam. I want my father back”

“Yeah… yeah. We all do. We just didn’t think it is somehow possible again”

“I’ll make it possible, I promise. I’ll keep trying. But I don’t know if I should answer to Dean’s prayers. I cannot fill him with hope, I need to make sure…”

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t think he’ll be able to handle it, if we end up failing…”

“He probably thinks I’m an asshole” Jack grinned bitterly. “Or that I’m too busy, or I forgot…”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t pray to Jack cause I missed him too bad, and I didn’t think I’ll ever see him again. And about Castiel, I just understood it’s impossible to bring him back, the second everyone else have returned. If that were possible, Jack would bring him back with everyone else, too. I didn’t realise there may be a different possibility.

“You really think you can do this? Bring him back?” I asked instead. 

“I have to. And I will” He looked at me, stubborn and determined. “I just need time”

I took a deep breath. That was heavy. Seeing Jack again, knowing the truth about Cas. Stay silent for Dean. This is not the first time I have been hiding something from my brother. But at least now it is more than justified.

Next week Eileen arrived, and things got a little better. Dean was very happy to see her, though, like, really glad. The three of us been spending a lot of time together, constantly chatting about everything, watching movies, cooking, even playing board games. What can I say? Eileen is a ball of sunshine, of course everything’s better in her presence. 

And I knew Dean felt better, too. Since there were no news from Jack in weeks, I decided it was a good tactic, to keep the bunker filled with people we love. So, I called everyone, and the next month was full with friendly visits. 

Kaia and Claire came first and stayed for few days, they were on a hunt in a town nearby. Then Jody and Alex joined us. They both took two weeks leave from work and decided to spend some of it with us. Gotta say, I was upset when they left. Not least because Dean stopped making delicious “special occasion” pancakes for breakfast.

Charlie and Stevie called. They were on a vacation too -  just left to travel around Europe for a month. Yeah, good for them. They promised to meet up with us as soon as they come back. 

Donna couldn't make it to us, cause she was too busy. Things were relatively quiet in Stillwater, but her deputy got sick, so she had to work a little harder those days. So me, Eileen and Dean went to visit her instead. Those were two good days, a lot of hugs and donuts and the latest police gossips. 

The next stop was Garth's house, and Eileen was extremely excited to meet the whole werewolf family. Little Cas and Sam grew bigger and Garth warned us to be careful now with their teeth. Good point. We didn't stay for long though, just for dinner, but Eileen is now Gertie's bestie, and Gertie calls her "giant's girlfriend".

Not long after we got back to bunker, Bobby stopped by for a beer. He was doing well, too, same as all the rest of the survived refugees from the Apocalypse world. They all quit hunting and settled in Lebanon, living their lives peacefully. It was good to see him, all clean and calm. He deserved his retirement.

That was, actually, the exact moment I realised I don’t want to hunt anymore. I’m done. No more blood on my hands. 

Yeah, there’s still a lot of things to hunt in this world. But I just don’t want to. But we’re still the last men of letters. Why not to become…a mentors? Turn bunker into headquarters again? We can’t just leave all the lore, all the knowledge here, untouched.

This thought has firmly settled in the backyard of my mind. Yes, we'll come back to this later, for sure. When we will figure out all the things. 

A nice month, yeah. Then Eileen went to help her friends with a little ghoul problem. I must say, I’m still overprotective, but at least I agreed to let her go by herself, since she gave me The Look. Okay, three of them will be there, one ghoul. They can handle it. Besides, “Girl needs to have fun sometimes, Sam!” and yes, she needed some space. And she promised to keep me updated. 

It was the evening I’ve received “All done! That was too easy, I’m disappointed. We’re driving to their place now, it’s couple of hours. Facetime you soon!” No, I wasn’t relieved, because I wasn’t worried, honestly! But still went to Dean’s cave, where he was watching something, to tell him the news.

“Hey, got a message from Eileen, she kicked that ghoul’s ass”

“Ha! I didn't doubt her!” Dean grinned at me, making a sound of the TV quieter.

“Yeah, she probably will be home in few days. Listen…”

I didn’t finish. Bright light filled the corridor.

“Sam. Now” I couldn’t even see his face, but Jack’s voice was loud and high with emotion. 

“What?? Jack??” I screamed back.

“What is happening?” Dean ran out the room, facing the light in the hallway. “Jack?? Sam, what’s going on?” 

“Sorry, I didn't have time to warn you. It happened all at once. Sam, I'm coming in, I found the entrance. I can do it, I know. Explain to him, tell him…” And he disappeared.

We were standing there, shaking in shock.

“What the hell is going on? Explain me what? Sam? The fuck is happening? Was that Jack?” 

I wasn’t ready for this, it happened not the way I imagined. I though I’ll have enough time for this conversation. What was I suppose to do? Explain? How?? 

Dean was looking at me, eyes wide with concern. Okay, okay… just gonna tell it the way it is, calm and slow.

“Yeah, it was Jack…” And my mouth turned dry.

“….and?” Dean kept looking at me “Explain what? Sam, cmon! He was worried, goddamit! What’s going on?”

“Okay, okay… He, umm. For the past months he’s been trying to get to The Empty” 

Dean was speechless. He turned pale.

“He couldn’t get there, he couldn’t even summon the Entity to talk. He thought it was because of the explosion. But he, umm, he kept on trying. He promised me he will keep trying.”

“He… promised you?” 

“Yeah… He appeared here, a little more then a month ago. He…” It was hard to look into my brother’s eyes, but somehow, I did it. “Dean, he was trying to bring Cas back. All this time”

His expression was unreadable. Something between anger, fear, disbelief and shock. 

“And you didn’t tell me…”

“Because he asked. Because he wasn’t sure how long will it take. He wanted to tell you, when he’s ready to do it. And I didn’t want to tell you too, because if we fail at this…”

“Okay, shut up” He leaned into the wall, all trembling, trying to calm his breath. “He said… he said “Now!” Does it mean… Sammy, what does it mean?” 

There was a plea in his eyes. So much fear. And a plea.

“Yes.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You've heard him”

Dean grabbed my shoulder.

“Sammy…”

The bunker started to shake -  the walls, the floor, as like an earthquake. 

“Sammy… the dungeon”

And we ran, as fast as we could.

So yeah, today we finally went to buy Cas some closes, although he seems to like all those Dean’s hoodies, he looks like an E.T., when he wears them.

Nothing extraordinary, just basic stuff like jeans and shirts and sweaters. Though Dean bought him a cowboy hat, and I swear I could hear quiet “Not again..” from Cas. But he scored with picking one of the world’s ugliest sweaters that I’ve ever seen - blue, with a giant yellow bee on the front. Dean’s face was pure shock when he saw that one, and he immediately put it out of the shopping basket, shaking his head. But the second Cas got distracted with his shoelaces, Dean put that ugly piece back and quickly went to the checkout. 

Now he’s drinking strawberry milkshake in the backseat.

It’s a movie night tonight. Eileen makes popcorn.

[dewykth]

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle​​​ and @dewykth​​​ collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj  word count. 7.5k+  warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr​​​​ !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳  i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter. 

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head. 

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry. 

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel. 

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation. 

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go?  Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 012

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey all! Billy and Evie continue their strange mating ritual. TW: Mentions of past abuse and student/teacher relationship. Heavy petting. SMUT. Phone sex. ;)

TAG LIST OPEN. Chat with me if you have the time xoxo

Chapter 12: Cupid and Psyche

   Evie groaned the next time she woke.

   Pain blared like the morning sun streaming on her face. Flames licking supple cheeks.

   Billy gone in the bed upon turning over.

   His scent apparent all over her damn sheets. Seeped into the pillows. Aramis. Hairspray. Paco Rabanne Pour Homme. Evie wondered if Billy liked to leave parts of himself where he goes. An impression similar to hands in wet concrete. 

   Sometimes a warm body pressed up against you was the only thing reminding you that you were here.

   She curled around his pillow to inhale. Felt butterflies flutter her stomach. Landing on delicate organs to decorate them in jewel toned wings. Iridescent glows that washed harsh reds away.

   Evie wondered what it would be like to crystallize. Utterly.

   Feet touched the floor to leave such fantasies aside. Those butterflies decayed upon seeing her face in the mirror. Hissing, fingertips gingerly touched the skin on fire. Upset welts around her puffy eye. Lungs gave a shudder before Evie was scrambling to replace the emptiness.

   Needy fingers went for her drawer and pulled out a box labeled “FB + EF.” Pushed all the way in back hidden under sheer and lacy panties. Hands clicked around the little pieces of jewelry she wasn’t able to wear in the open until she lifted a brooch to the light. A sparkling ladybug. 

   Fredrick got for her during the first month of that magical summer. They went to some dirty adult party three cities away where people in their twenties and thirties were doing cocaine out in the open. Evie shared a tab of acid with Fredrick that unlocked her entire psyche. Draped herself into him to watch colors spin along the TV. Felt his hand palm her breast before they found a room.

   “Do you think I’m fat?” Evie asked between kisses, coming down from her trip and sweltering with heat. Trembling too hard.

   “What?” He actually laughed into her mouth, came out and pulled her body flush. “You’re not fat, love, you’re so beautiful.”

   At the time, Evie wasn’t sure how that answer made her feel worse. 

   But, the lady bug pin was now scuttling into her stomach. She nearly broke the drawer with her clenched fists pushing it down.

   Exhale.

   Oh, how she moaned like a wanting slut that night. Rode Fredrick hard and turned over afterward for him. Started to cry when he tried to take her home afterwards because she didn’t want to go.

   Didn't want the dreaming to end. She wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever.

   It was their first fight. He screamed she was being a child and manipulating him. They both shouted about telling her mother the truth. 

   Evie really started to sob that she hated him and he just held her wrists and kissed her deeply. Softened suddenly as she fell into his arms. Told her she was too pretty to be so upset. That she had a hold on him. That he was starting to fall deeply and madly in love with her.

   And that made her feel like a god. 

   They ended up back at his place. Evie got home the next day to Mona hiding her pack of smokes behind a picture of Dolly Parton. Not asking where her daughter had been all night. Just said to get ready for her next talent show. 

   Hungover, Evie still won the prize money that went into some new clothes, her future fund, and fresh paint for the salon. Talent scouts cooed to keep growing.

   “Evie!” A knock startled her daydreams. The drawer smacked shut. Heather poked her face in and frowned. “Oh, honey...you need some more ice on that. We made pancakes.”

   “We?”

   “Steve and I. Billy went home to shower, he had to give Max a ride somewhere. Come on, eat some breakfast.”

   Evie changed, rubbing her throat on the way out. Steve blinked at her and tried not to wince.

   “I know it’s not pretty.” Evie pressed her lips. 

   “You saw me after Hargrove kicked my ass.” Steve reached over the little island counter to give her chin this encouraging tap. Darling smile curling. Heather put a big plate down so Evie slid onto a stool.

   “Thanks, sorry I passed out last night.”

   “Ice cream will be a good pick me up later.” Heather kissed Evie’s good side. “Want us to stick around today?”

   “Ah, we can hang out tonight. I gotta clean up and I wanted to go talk to Billy about something.” Evie took a bite and sighed. Steve and Heather exchanged looks. “Nothing happened. Perverts.”

   A beat before laughter erupted. It felt so needed this hour

** ** **

   Evie tried to use makeup to cover the easier welts. Felt useless with her eye socket the size and color of Jupiter. A huff before she flicked a brush aside and stood. She left Blue on the couch before venturing out. Frost and slush marked the unforgiving winter outside. Evie had waited until Neil’s car left and crossed over. Knocked.

   Susan poked her head out.

   “Oh, Evie, I... Dear, what happened?” Susan’s wedding ring caught the light as she touched her lips with worry. Red hair piled up upon her head and a sea foam sweater dress.

   “I slipped on the ice.” Lashes batted. “Sorry, I caught you in the middle of something.”

   “No, I was unpacking the last few boxes in our garage. Shifting some furniture. Think we’re finally moved in. I was just going to change and catch the bus, our shelves are bare.” Susan held the door back. 

   “I was here to see Billy, is he…?” Evie trailed off when she heard it. The blasting music from the farthest bedroom. Shut tight.

   “Yes, in his room. Evie, he’s… He’s in a mood and might not come out.”

   “A mood?” Evie studied the woman. Thin hands clasping so hard that they paled.

   “Maybe a friendly face will be good.” Susan decided, not convinced but too polite to turn Evie away now. “Go on ahead.”

   It appeared Max was out with friends. Susan disappeared into the kitchen after gesturing so Evie crossed down the hallway. Knocked and wasn’t heard. Pounded harder.

   “I’m busy, Susan!” Came the bark.

   “Not Susan.” Evie shot right back. There was a curse before some scrambling and the door yanked open. Billy in a white tank tucked into some jeans with grey socks. Lax. Chain shifting as he breathed. “You look real busy.”

   Eyes screwed up at her. Seemingly irritated. 

   “What are you doing here?”

   “You left, I just...wanted to hang out. Talk, I mean.” Her feet shuffled before she matched his taller posture. Chin lifting. 

   “Getting clingy on me.”

   “As if you have any business talking about that.” She joked, arms crossing. 

   “I spent the night in your bed. We shot the shit, I’m not your boyfriend.” His clipped tone etched some surprise over Evie’s face.

   “Okay, asshole, when and where did I ask if you wanted to be my damn boyfriend? You going to ease up a little bit? I don’t need that.” Evie flared and he sucked in his cheeks before pulling her into his room and shutting the door. “The fuck is your problem all the sudden?”

   Billy had gone to turn the music down a bit, head craning to see her pressed into his door. One of his hands was idly rubbing his ribs. Some of their anger died. A tense expression crossed his face.

   Evie realized she’d never really seen the inside of his room. Smelled like Billy. Smoke, hairspray, and cologne. Random plates and beer cans with smashed cigarette buds. A little vanity made of crates. Near empty shelves. Weights laying round. Laundry mostly in a basket propped up in the corner. Curtains that were really clipped up sheets. Something somber about it all. Like nothing was his. Like he had to make the space livable. Bearable.

   “I don’t plan for guests.” He plucked up a pack of cigarettes. 

   “Bullshit, I see girls climbing in and out of your window.” Evie lightened the tension. Billy hitched as if he might chuckle. Felt guilty instead.

   “Well, help yourself to a seat.” Billy kicked back into a beaten brown couch so Evie nudged her shoes aside and joined him on the other end. “Well?” He lit himself a smoke and scratched his chin, eyes on the window.

   “About last night, that stuff I said...”

   “Weren’t drunk so you can’t take it back.” The white hot cherry pointed to her.

   “I’m just saying," Evie gestured at air, "it was a lot.”

   “Me beating the fuck out of our second period teacher was a lot.” Billy got his cigarette snatched before he plucked it back. “Think of your pretty voice, yeah?”

   Evie pouted, made this rumbling sound at him before she sat back.

   It clicked in Billy’s head.

   “You’re looking to drown your sorrows. Finally something I can really help with.” Billy reached over the couch and came up with a bottle of amber liquid. There was an unmistakable sound of the front door closing, signalling Susan had left. 

   “Heather and Steve wouldn’t approve.” Evie took the bottle anyways. Gulped.

   “Easy, jesus.” Billy drank after. One quick swig. Watched her bring her legs up to cross them. Leggings and a thick, violet sweater with wool socks. Curls spilling. “Small drinks, don’t be an idiot.”

   “Strong words from you.” She sipped that time. Savored the woody burn as it went down.

   “Don’t I know it?” He puffed. Evie offered him the bottle and sighed, relaxing before she spoke.

   “Did Fredrick cry when you hit him?”

   “Like a bitch.” Billy exhaled smoke. “Drove past his place after I dropped Max off at her friend’s. Cleared the fuck out.”

   “Oh.” It still ached. This person who touched her life was suddenly gone. Maybe never to return. Like her father. It should have been a fucking comfort and instead everything ugly swimming under Evie’s skin pushed to the surface.

   “Did you like it?” A whisper.

   “I always do.” He spoke, drank about it. Evie thought back to leveling Tannen’s face. Silently agreed. Wondered when he would break his chains to get revenge.

   “Do you think I’m fat?” Her tone droned next.

   “Why are you asking me stupid questions, Evie?” Billy’s cigarette was hanging lazily from his lips. Bold, crystalline eyes appeared bored at her as an arm came up on the couch. She blinked at him.

   Evie liked that reply. She was fat. She was pretty, too. She hoped. They can coexist. Billy could just be crass about it. Obscene.

   She enjoyed that about him, too. Even if she wouldn't admit it.

   “Do you think about fucking me when you masturbate?” She said in the same controlled tone.

   Billy choked, almost inhaling his lit stick, and spit it on the floor. Still coughing, his head snapped with bulging eyes. Stepping on the cigarette to kick it under the beaten sofa.

   Pride swelled.

   “What the fuck, Evie?” He set the liquor aside. Evie was on her feet lightning quick so he got up also. Just as quick. “Hey, why’d you come here?” 

   She had the door open when his palm smacked it shut. Evie spun there, pressed between him and the wood. Billy breathing into her space. One arm still outstretched. Too intent.

   Evie thought for a moment, she heard his pulse begin to race.

   Her heavy eyes flashed at him. Waiting there for something to crack. 

   And then trembling fingers dipped and clicked the lock on the doorknob without breaking eye contact.

   This shrewd look crossed his eyes. Filled his whole expression with neon light.

   God damn, he was just too beautiful. Stunning like ethereal Cupid about to revive Psyche with true love's kiss after their trials. Wings unfurling all delicate and feathery. They both crystallized.

   “I should go.” Evie said without trying. Not moving an inch. Billy dropped his arms and stepped back to see her. Flicking his eyes before he let his light burn. Leaned forward and bit the inside of his cheek. A rasp.

   “Take your fucking clothes off.”

   Evie threw herself at him.

   Knocked Billy back into the bed while their lips collided. The boy caught fire. He pushed her to turn them over. Already shoving between her legs. So hard, he figured he might blow his load right there. Evie’s lips on his neck made it worse. Made him moan until his leg shook like a dog’s would.

   Yeah, it had been awhile.

   “Fuck.” Billy pulled up, left Evie pawing for him. Fingers under her sweater to yank.

   “Wait.” Evie gasped out so he stopped. All her fervor hid under the bed. Unable to meet those eyes.

   “What?” Billy sat back on his knees. “Scared I won’t like what I see?”

   “It’s too bright in here.” She turned to let the sheets fall over the blinds. Went for the other.

   “Leave some light. Wanna see you.” Billy batted his lashes as he said that. Made her melt. Quickly, he pulled his own shirt off. Flashed the reason for all this anger earlier. Splotchy bruises along his ribs where Neil’s knuckles pushed in for whatever reason he picked that morning.

   Evie paused to see them. Saw Billy’s rock hard chest sink in. Reached out and got her wrist snatched. Gentle as can be.  

   “Don’t worry about it.” His eyes averted.

   “Don’t worry about mine.” Evie asked so Billy cupped her face and pushed her back into the sheets. She paused only to sit up and remove her top. Covered in fracturing rosy marks across fleshy curves. Before she had a chance to get insecure, Billy cut in.

   “Leggings, too.” He winked, snapping the fabric. She scowled instead.

   “You first.” Evie undid the loop of his belt, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she did. Billy felt himself shudder. Stood up so she followed.

   They stared at each other. Didn’t touch and undressed there in the too soft lights down to their underwear.

   Billy’s eyes followed the swell of her breasts. Everything about Evie was plush. Dark curls hung over her shoulders. Really looked like a twisting goddess from a painting. She had her hands in front of her stomach and dropped them when he crossed. Inching her back into the wall.

   A hand cupped her jaw before their lips opened. Arms went around his shoulders. Unafraid that he was looking at her in daylight. 

   Alive. Both of them felt alive. 

   Billy pressed further, let their bodies melt together. Tested how she felt against him. Flesh on flesh. 

   Several sensations erupted the moment his mouth was on her neck. Clouds bursting with rain. Fireworks splashing the night sky. Petals unfurled within Evie’s stomach. Gemstones grew out to crystallize. She wondered how pretty she’d be if Billy took a chisel to her flesh. Cracked the shell open. She ran her hands over his arms and felt the soft hairs there. Pulled him even in closer.

   Fingers slid one bra strap down. Evie coaxed him further with digits woven into golden curls. Maybe Billy had a point about her being molten because she was about to spill hot between his fingers. 

   He came up. Moaned into her mouth. Palms gripping at flesh. Like he had to feel all of her at once. Evie bit her lip, neck craning back so he could inch lower again. 

   Billy Hargrove is about to fuck me, she could have giggled, and I’m going to fuck him hard and thoughtlessly. 

   She hitched a gasp just as his fingertips inched into cotton panties. Got ready to pull him back into bed.

   Billy’s head lifted. The earring dangled almost violently when a door slammed. Evie’s dreams were sent scattering before they frozen together. Marble. 

   Water pouring over red hot iron to elicit the tempering sizzle.

   “Fuck.” Billy recognized the sound. “Fuck. My dad.” He kept saying, pushing Evie’s clothing at her. “You need to go. Out the window.”

   “What?” Evie barely had time to get dressed while he helped her. Both of them bursting at the seams. Billy yanked his jeans up and got the window open. Guided Evie over it as she was still forcing her sweater on. 

   “Billy!” Came a bark at the front of the house. Stomping followed. Evie plopped into the snowy grass with a groan as Billy dropped her shoes into her lap. Evie scrambled back up around the back of her house. Slammed the door and fell back against it like she had to hide too.

   Lungs sputtered.

   “What the fuck?” Her cheeks were an obscene cherry shade. She felt Billy all over her. Ached all between her thighs even in wet clothing. Huffed because she was unfucked and her sweater was inside out. “Shit.” Evie scrambled to her bedroom. Blue scuttled out to a food dish as Evie jerked the curtain open. Couldn’t see anything in Billy’s room.

   Her phone rang.

   “Yes?” A cry into the receiver.

   “Cute that you worried for me.” Cool and even. Almost macho.

   She puffed, sinking.

   “Shut up.”

   “Guess my dad’s beer run wasn’t as long as I thought.” Billy blew air out his lips. “Was hoping he’d be working today. They cut his hours down this week for some reason. Made him real fucking happy.”

   “Come over here.”

   “No, I’m locked in for playing my music too loud and for being disrespectful this morning. Gotta wait till later, he’ll get drunk enough and forget.” Billy reclined on his bed. Something horrible there because he was used to this. Music was playing softer behind him. Mingling with Neil in the living room watching some show play on. “You’re...intense.” His blase attitude and joke almost set Evie at ease. She fell into bed, eyes rolling.

   “Uh. So, are you." A beat. "...Were you surprised?”

   “Yeah, actually. I had you figured for a shy, little birdie.”

   “Everyone thinks that about me. I sing and dance. I like sex and stage lights. I get mad. I’m not shy. Maybe at times about my...but, I get over it. Women can be as intense as men in the sack, you know?” Evie sounded insulted.

   “Don’t worry, I’m a quick learner.” He’d mused. “Learning new things about you every day.” 

   Evie couldn’t explain why that made her blush. Hard. The silky timbre of his voice lulling her into genuine security. 

   “Learned that I can make out your accent more when you’re sleepy, on the phone, and in lust.”

   “In lust? Shut up.” She mocked. “Don’t have an accent. You probably can’t even tell the uptown and downtown accents apart in N'awlins.” Ah shit. Billy found that hilarious as Evie cringed.

   “That so, N'awlins?” Billy countered. “Just say the word, bayou, for me.”

   “...That’s a hard pass. Are all Cali boys this insufferable?” She rolled over to swing her legs up.

   “We are, actually. But, I am the prettiest.” His smile dazzled with no one to admire it. Evie saw it in her mind and wanted to just toss him over town.

   “I’ll give you that for admitting it.” A breath followed. Evie toyed with one of her curls. Tugged. “I had you all shaky there.” His tongue clicked.

   “No idea what you mean.” That cheekiness she enjoyed dripped from his rich tone. “Bummed, I was this close to seeing your tits.” 

   “They’ll be the same later. I think. I don’t know, I always thought they were shaped funny.” Brown eyes turned to the ceiling as she rolled back. one arm behind her head. 

   “Later, she says. Huh. And I’ll be the judge of that. I’m a professional and I’m not picky. Any shape is good, I’m in this for the taste.”

   “Sleaze.” Evie pouted and a chuckle sounded. Billy sighed. "How'd you get my number, by the way?"

   "Begged it from Heather on my way out. I can be smooth." He said. “You really want me over tonight? Steve and Heather won’t approve, am I right?”

   She let out an aggravated sigh and Billy smiled again to himself. Imagined that scrunchy pout she liked to make. Fingers tapping his bare stomach.

   “I mean, we can…hang out. Nothing wrong with that.”

   “Like you came over just now to hang out, chica?”

   “I didn’t come over just for that.”

   “Sure. As if you also didn’t wet your blue panties for me.”

   “You’re so gross.” Evie rubbed her legs together. Remembered his hands worshiping her flesh. Her flesh that she was conditioned to hate. Adjusted the phone and licked her lips. “Don’t make me regret this.”

   “I’m just saying we can easily pick up where we left off, Evie.” The name rolled sinfully from his tongue. She swallowed. Flashes of Billy across her brain. His peachy tanned skin. His gold curls. His lips kissing her. 

   “Remind me where that was? Landed pretty hard there when you pushed me out the window.”

   “Shit, yeah. About that-”

   “I get it.” Evie didn’t need to make him explain. “I didn’t land on my head. Still raw from…” Where Fredrick tossed her into the wall. They both went silent. Just listened to each other breathe. Evie gave this dreamy sigh. “I like...your arm hair and I like the way you smell.”

   He laughed.

   "You're a funny girl, Evie."

   "It's just...that intensity you have, I don't know. You are pretty." She rubbed her face. "I don't know what I'm saying."

   “Your perfume goes right to my dick. You know that, too.” His joke lightened them both again. Evie rolled her eyes. “Explains why you practically crawl into my skin at night.” Billy remembered suddenly that he’d spent two nights with Evie and hadn’t screwed her. That was a rarity.

   “You snore a little. Couple of grunts. Sorta adorable.”

   “Don’t even get my started on how dead silent you get.” Billy’s eyes trailed over his room. He could still smell her honey amber scent lingering. Hummed into the pillow. Obsession by Calvin Klein. Odd scent for a teen, but matching him in intensity and she wore it so subtly. All they could do was battle and weave together. Obsession and Aramis. This strange dance he was thrilled to continue.

   “Never answered my question.”

   “Already forgot it. Was it where we left off or what I’d do to you next?” Lips curled as her breath hitched. “Let’s see. I had you against the wall. Moaning so pretty. Lipstick smeared.”

   Evie almost didn’t speak up when he paused before...

   “And?”

   “And I was gonna keep kissing down your tits. Get the rest of your clothes off. Tongue my way over your sweet nipples. Stomach too, I like to cover all the ground I can. See how shy you really are.” He licked his lips and Evie’s eyes got heavy. 

   “Not so shy when I tell you to keep going.”

   “No, I guess not. Not until I push your sensitive thighs open, I bet you’d quake and purr. Blush like you clearly are now.”

   Evie realized she’d been holding her breath. Didn’t even fight him. Clutching her sweater as he spoke so casually. 

   “It’s a real fucking tragedy. Me, waiting longer before I find out how you taste. That’s all I’m saying.” Billy’s breath was labored on the other end. “Still with me here, Angel?”

   “Is...this your private line?”

   Another snicker.

   “Obviously. Why?” Billy had his jeans open. Bit his lip while he pooled arousal around his tip. Watched it trickle down into his stomach. Again. No reply. “Answer was yes, by the way… What you asked early if I thought about you. I do a lot. Fucking you. Eating you out. I knew you were a hair puller, we have that in common.”

   “Not sure I trust you to last and get the job done with how worked up you get. All the trembling, it was kinda cute.”

   “You clearly haven’t ridden my tongue.”

   Fuck him.

   “You have to actually stop talking to do that, Billy.” Evie laughed in the open and Billy smiled brighter, eyes crinkling. He walked into that one. Idly, she ran her fingers up her thigh. “Between you and I, I never let guys eat me out.”

   Billy stopped to sit up.

   “No shit?”

   “It always made me nervous so I stopped them when they tried. All the mouth action comes from me.” Evie had sat up on the other end too. “I’m pretty good actually.”

   “You’d let me fuck that beautiful mouth after I taste you?” He’d cooed. “Betcha that lipstick won’t look half bad on my skin since you never did start buying waterproof.”

   “I guess it’s only fair.” Evie dropped her tone. “Still think you can’t handle it.”

   “There’s the ego I was hoping for.” He shook his head. “But, I have to say, sweetheart, you’re missing out. That’s the real crime, not letting yourself get tongue fucked once in a while. Do you not know how to treat yourself?”

   Evie mashed her face into the nearest pillow. 

   “I can’t stand you. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She muffled and Billy only laughed again, laying down. Imagined how cherry her lips and cheeks must have looked. Thought about tracing his thumb over her wet mouth. Smeared in slick red.

   “Don’t get shy on me now. We established you weren’t.”

   “It’s weird.”

   “Not weird. You just let a guy kiss down and nature takes over.”

   “It’s not that simple with me.”

   “Sure, it is. Let me walk you through it. Take your leggings and panties off.” He licked his lips. “C’mon, we got time to kill now.” There was some shuffling.

   “It’s not a big deal,” Evie undressed anyways, “it’s just...I think about the angle and guys looking up and seeing my stomach and I get freaked out.”

   “Sweetheart, my mouth will be buried in your pussy, I ain’t worried about your flesh. I’m more worried about my technique. These things you get so worked up about. Guys really don’t give a shit, the good ones anyways.” His vulgarity sent these fizzles all down her nerves. Actually made her feel better. “You just...tip your head back and enjoy it. Although, I don’t mind a little praise and eye contact. Make me feel like a good boy for once.”

   “And I can’t like...play with myself to help?”

   “You can, but just relax and let me take over. You can trust me to make you feel good, Evie. Might be nice to give up some control.”

   He had no idea that he’d hit a nail on the head.

   “So, kisses. Thighs open.” Evie settled into the pillows, free hand twisted into fabric with a cool breeze on her thighs. Breasts rising. “Would you use your fingers too?”

   “If you ask me sweetly.” Billy saw beads of precum all over his abdomen. Throbbed and tried not to grunt. “I’d like to. I’d like to lick my way inside you. Hold your legs open and kiss your clit until you’re begging for more. Love the view of you. Spread open and wet for me. Like how you feel.” 

   “You’ve never been with a girl my size.” Evie broke into his daydreams.

   “You don’t know that.” He paused. It was true.

   “Yes, I do, Billy.” Evie didn’t know why the thought was stark and gnawing. “I’m bigger than you. Wider. Maybe even heavier.”

   “Bet, I can lift you just fine.” He rubbed his face, eyes searching. “I liked it. Touching you. I wasn’t shy about it, was I? Fucking soft. I’m not used to that against me. You’re warm and when I squeezed you against me, I wanted to throw you on my bed so fucking bad. Can't explain it.”

   She went silent so he found a joke. 

   “If it makes you so nervous, I promise to let you suck me off after.”

   “A dashing gentleman if I ever saw one.” She broke out of the nerves.

   “Just think about it, Evie. You ever just take the time to appreciate how wet you made someone? Up close. It's a thrill.” Billy hitched as he palmed himself. Evie swallowed a lump.

   “Are you…?”

   “Am I, what?” Billy’s labored breathing made it obvious, but he wanted her to say it.

   “Did I make you wet?”

   “Jeans are ruined for the day.” He offered, husky under the music. “Should have risked hiding you in the closet.”

   “We would have so been caught.”

   “His problem.” Billy gruffed, changed the subject to work himself up. “Two clasps away from those tits. I won’t forget that.”

   “Maybe I’ll play with them since you’re not here to.” She moved a hand under her sweater and Billy outright groaned.

   “What do you taste like?”

   “I recall you predicting heaven.” Sarcasm etched out. “It's possible you’ll find out if I’m in the mood again. I could be just now realizing this was a lapse in judgement.”

   “Ah huh.” Billy gave himself a few strokes. Evie listened to him sigh too soft and husky in her ear. Pictured him atop her. Rock hard and moaning. Gorgeous like Apollo. Sun streaming upon his back. Illuminating curls.

   She slid her fingers down. Hitched a sigh because she was soaked and aching. 

   “Would you kiss me after I sucked you off?” Evie played with herself. Let him hear the moan.

   “With tongue. You could spit directly into my mouth for all I care. In fact, I might like that.” Billy hummed, tone changing to give an order. “Slip your fingers in if you haven’t already. I know what you’re doing, Evangeline.”

   “You were doing it first.” Evie’s head pressed back into the pillows. She spread her legs and drew circles into herself, pressed two fingers in and moaned.

   “Who’s fucking you right now, Angel?”

   “Oh, you.” She was forward about that. Heart thumping. “Want your mouth and hands.”

   “Told you.” His head tilted back. Tried to stay immersed in the lingering scent of her. “Play with your clit again. That’ll do until I get my tongue on you.”

   Evie cursed that time. Accent lacing her tone. It made him smile brighter.

   “If I had it my way, you won’t play with yourself at all. Know that? You want to get off, you just come to me and let me take care of you.”

   “What a chore.” Evie sped and started to rock into her own touch.

   “I’m always up to the task.”

   Billy worked himself on the other end to every little mewl and sigh. Dirty talk went out the window as she gasped. Started to build herself up. Pictured Billy slicked and surrendered against cotton sheets. Stunning and batting his lashes while he opened his mouth and pumped his fist.

   “Get yourself there, Angel, don’t wait for me.” He heard her curse louder and almost drop the phone back. With Billy’s little murmurs of dirty encouragement, she rubbed perfect circles. Imagined his fingers and tongue. His sly eyes and those fucking lashes. Muscles bulging hot under her grasp. Evie cried out, succumbed there and hitched to shake and shudder. Billy closed his eyes while she got off. Couldn’t wait to be the one who got her there.

   “Fuck, Evie. You’re killing me.” One fists jerked up and down. Unable to get close because he was distracted with her. “I can’t...fucking shit. I was almost there a moment ago when you were here and now, ah…fucking hell.”

   “Sounds like you need help.” Evie stretched like a cat against her pillows. Still trembling.

   “Or another hand.” He sighed. “Or a mouth. Think about how you’d leave that red lipstick all over my dick.”

   “I got an idea. If you give me shit, I’ll end you.” Evie pushed her blissful body up. “Come up to the window.”

   “What…” Billy shoved a sheet aside to see her. Out of breath and curls sticking all over. Blushed and fucked. Gorgeous. “What are you doing?” He was still slowly jerking himself to keep the momentum. Evie looked around the grass and shrubbery. Rolled her eyes before lifting up her shirt and moving the bra down.

   Billy’s mouth dropped along with his phone so she giggled as he disappeared to grab it.

   “Fuck!” Billy caught himself and returned.

   “Are they everything you pictured?” She bit her lip and winked. He was dead intent on her tits. Mouth open. Working himself harder.

   “Push them against the window.”

   Her hard, dark rosy nipples pressed there and Billy moaned. Wished he had them in his hands. Wished he would fuck her mouth and shoot his load on them.

   “Yes, Evie, fuck.” He submitted. Almost sounded like a zombie. Under her spell. Typical boy. Working himself until… “Gonna cum.” Strings of release hit the wall as Billy dropped the phone again to finish. Evie still heard his muffled moans on the end and brought herself back down, giggling at the same time Billy fell into his pillows.

   “Did I lose you, Billy?”

   “No, but if you could pick my balls up off the floor, that’d be great.” He puffed and felt around for a tee to clean up with. “Okay. I’m gonna say this. We’re going to fuck. Hear me? I am going to fuck you. Can’t today. But, it's happening.”

   “So certain. What, are you spent already?”

   “Not gonna plan that far, we hang out as you say...and see what happens.” He caught his breath. “Can’t do it here and your two guards are going to be on you this week.”

   “You thought awhile about this.” Evie licked her lips, still fixing her bra in place. “Maybe my common sense comes back.”

   “Maybe you admit you’re warming up to me again. Sizzling fuse.”

   “Yeah, yeah.” Evie rose out of bed and paused to sigh. Tone shifting. "Billy?"

   "Hm?"

   “What if he comes back?”

   “He’s scared. He won’t. I stopped him.”

   “I feel like I’m going to be constantly looking over my shoulder. You know?” Evie didn't want to touch the floor again.

   “Then, I guess I know where to stand for your attention.” His quip had Evie biting her lip. Roses bloomed up her thighs and cheeks. “I also left my number under your lamp, by the way. Use it.”

   Evie blinked and lifted it to see a torn slip with his handwriting. Slippery bastard.

   “Yeah, I got it.” She bit back a smile. “I’ll...ah, see you later, Billy.”

   “Yes, you will.” He paused. “One more question. More of a courtesy.”

   “What?”

   “Preferred method of birth control? Have a couple rubbers. I’m clean, by the way. But, are you an in or out type of girl?” 

   “Also clean. And I’m an avid user of the pill, smartass. Use that information however you like.” She hung up, leaving Billy to laugh on the other end. He brought the phone away, still so stupid happy. Dreaming himself away.

   Psyche went through so many trials for Cupid. Billy wondered about the after. About Eros picking up some trials of his own to keep a girl that tangled him so ardently. About how it felt worth it down to the beating core. All’s fair...

   Evangeline Fenny might really be the end of him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for tuning in!! That was actually my first full phone sex scene, it's so fun to write these two and their weird dance. I just love them more by the chp. xx Stay and chat with me if you can! As is open :)

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[sofhyuck]

Spinning Webs

Genre: fluff, spiderman!Jisung, best friends to lovers!au

Word Count: 7.3k

Excerpt: “Actually I can’t walk home with you today, I’ve gotta take care of some stuff.”

“What stuff? Han Jisung, don’t tell me you’re actually going to stay after school and study!” You gasped, mockingly bringing your hand up to grasp at your chest.

“Ha ha very funny,” Jisung deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he started towards the front entrance of the school, you following close behind. “Aunt May wants me to run some errands on the way home.”

“I can go with you.”

“They’re kind of out of the way.” “

Oh, ok.” You frowned, taking the hint that Jisung clearly didn’t want your company.

“I’ll see you tomorrow though, yea?”

“Yea, I guess.”

Masterlist

A/N: this is kind of a mix of so many different stories and yet another conversation heavy mess!!! also there’s a bit of cursing. @jisung-enthusiast this is for you, again uwu

Dude I just got bit by a fucking spider

You rolled your eyes at the text, setting your phone back down on your bedside table. Leave it to Jisung to interrupt your studying session with a meaningless text. Opening your book back up, you settled into the lull of studying and attempted to absorb the information laid before you. Barely ten minutes passed before you gave up, none of your textbook making any sense. Sighing in frustration you shut the book, turning back to your phone in hopes of a distraction. Before you could even unlock it, your door burst open, an out of breath and dishevelled Jisung making his way inside.

“Why didn’t you respond to my text?” Jisung pouted, flopping down next to you on your bed.

“Why would I?” You responded, nudging his knee away from where it dug into your side.

“Because it’s cool! Here, look at it!” Jisung held out his arm, a red and slightly swollen mark right on his shoulder.

“Ew, Jisung that’s disgusting! Did you even clean it?” You groaned, turning your head away from the gruesome sight.

“No, was I supposed to?” He mumbled, poking at the wound.

“Yes! God stop touching it you’re gonna get infected.” Rolling off the bed, you pulled him up and dragged him down the hall towards the bathroom.

“C’mon Y/n it’s fine, it’ll heal on its own,” He whined, reluctantly allowing you to sit him down on the sinks.“I swear you’re such a mom.”

“Sorry I don’t want my best friend to get his arm amputated!”

“Oh my god it’s a spider bite.”

“Still.” You muttered, wetting a washcloth and lightly dabbing at the reddened bump on Jisung’s arm. “There, that wasn’t so hard now was it?”

“Yea ok but you didn’t have to get so worried.”

“Whatever,” a breath of air passed through your lips. “How did you even get bit by a spider anyways?”

“You know how I went on that field trip for my bio class today? Well I kind of went a little off course and ended up in this weird ass room full of spiders and one of them decided to bite me.”

“Jesus, Jisung, can’t you stay out of trouble for once.”

“Never, baby.” He grinned with an added wink. “It’s part of the Han charm.”

“I didn’t realise that was even a thing.”

“All the ladies swarm, Y/n, don’t underestimate me.”

With a roll of your eyes you left the bathroom and headed back to your room, Jisung following close behind. Once you entered your room, you turned to face him, only to be shocked at his sudden change in appearance. He looked pale and a film of sweat covered his face, his body swaying a bit.

“Hey, are you feeling okay? You’re not looking too hot.”

“I always look hot,” he laughed weakly, bringing a hand up to wipe at his face. “But yea, I’m not feeling too good right now, I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay here? I’m worried you might faint on the way home.”

“You know I’m not that far away. Plus, you know Aunt May will worry if I don’t come back.” He shrugged, already throwing on his jacket.

“She’s gonna be worried either way, given your condition,” you sighed. “Stay safe, text me when you get home, okay?”

“Got it mom, see ya tomorrow!” He managed a weak grin before heading out the door. After he left you tried to refocus on your studies but to no avail. Thoughts of Jisung swarmed your mind and you couldn’t stop worrying about his health. It was rare that he got sick; despite his shitty eating habits he somehow managed to remain relatively in shape and healthy. Not to mention the rate at which he had fallen ill was nothing less than alarming. You threw your books down with a huff, coming to terms with the fact that there was no way you’d be able to pay attention. Your phone lit up with a text from Jisung informing you that he’d made it home safely and you sighed in relief. You lay flat on your back for a second, gathering your thoughts before getting ready for bed. Hopefully Jisung would be feeling better tomorrow.

❃❃❃❃

The hallways were filled with noise, students jostling you around as you stood in front of Jisung’s locker. Tapping your foot you impatiently glanced at your phone. There were only a few minutes left until homeroom and Jisung had insisted that you meet him before class. Funny looks were shot your way but you merely ignored them, too caught up in your anger towards your best friend. Just as you were about to give up on him and head to class, a hand came down on your shoulder.

“Boo.” Jisung whispered in your ear, cackling as you jumped in surprise.

“Jesus Christ Jisung I’m going to kill you. Do you even know what time it is?”

“Aw, c’mon, you can miss a little bit of homeroom. It’s not like we do anything anyways.” He placed his hands on your hips, swinging you around.

You raised your hand, ready to take a swing at his forearm, but faltered at his healthy appearance. You glanced up and down his body in search of any signs of weakness.

“Dude, weren’t you like, on the verge of death yesterday? You look so healthy how is that even possible?”  

“Guess I’m just a fast healer.” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

“Since when?” Before you had the chance to further question his reasoning, the homeroom bell rang, jolting you away from his grip. His hands clung to your waist and Jisung flushed as he frantically tried to peel his hands away from you.

“I know you want to spend more time with me but I really gotta go.” You laughed lightly, finally prying his hands off.

“Sorry, I guess they’re a little sweaty.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in homeroom right now?” Jisung groaned, cheeks a deep red.

“See ya later, Ji.” You laughed before running towards your classroom. It was only when you sat down that you noticed a sticky substance on your shirt. Figuring you had leaned on something while on the subway, you focused on your teacher’s ramblings. You had to do the laundry anyways.

❃❃❃❃

The day passed as normal, time slipping by until it was final period. History: the only class you shared with Jisung and the only one he was actually passing since you helped him with every assignment. Jisung slid into his seat beside yours right as the bell rang and you nudged him lightly in the side, shaking your head at his almost tardiness. He only rolled his eyes in response, throwing his notebook open on his desk, earning him a glare from your teacher. Opening up your own notebook, you neatly wrote the date while tuning in to the teacher’s dronings.

Halfway through class you glanced over at Jisung to make sure he wasn’t falling asleep. Your eyes widened when you saw him sitting up straight, leg bouncing rhythmically. It was rare that Jisung didn’t fall asleep during history class, leaving you to hit him over the head and wake him up. But there he was, seemingly paying full attention to the teacher. He turned to look at you, briefly raising his eyebrows in a questioning glance. You shook your head and he turned back to face the teacher, your eyes still trained on his profile. The teacher’s shrill voice pulled your attention back to the front of the class and you finally broke your gaze from Jisung. Struggling to return your focus to the teacher’s lesson, concerns for Jisung began to flood your mind. He was totally acting weird, right? It wasn’t just your imagination, there was definitely something off. Before you realized it, the bell had rung and you looked up to see Jisung stood in front of you.

“Finally made it back to earth space cadet?” He chuckled, leaning on top of your desk. You flushed at his teasing, heart picking up speed as he leaned down to be face to face with you.

“Yea, sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.” You shrugged, rushing to pack up your belongings so that you could walk home. Shoving the last of your papers into your backpack, you swung the bag over your shoulder. “You ready to go?” You smiled, turning to face Jisung.

“Actually I can’t walk home with you today, I’ve gotta take care of some stuff.”

“What stuff? Han Jisung, don’t tell me you’re actually going to stay after school and study!” You gasped, mockingly bringing your hand up to grasp at your chest.

“Ha ha very funny,” Jisung deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he started towards the front entrance of the school, you following close behind. “Aunt May wants me to run some errands on the way home.”

“I can go with you.”

“They’re kind of out of the way.”

“Oh, ok.” You frowned, taking the hint that Jisung clearly didn’t want your company.

“I’ll see you tomorrow though, yea?”

“Yea, I guess.” You pouted.

“See ya cutie.” He grinned, ruffling your hair before taking off down the crowded street. Chewing your lip nervously, you heavily debated following him before finally deciding that it wasn’t worth it. If something was wrong he would definitely tell you. And if he didn’t want to tell you what was up, then you weren’t going to press him to spill. Begrudgingly you headed home, eyes trained on the cracked sidewalk, feeling too defeated to even look ahead of you. Maybe you weren’t as close as you had thought.

❃❃❃❃

Jisung didn’t walk home with you the next day either.

“Gotta work on a project with some other guys at their apartment.” He said. Bullshit, you said. Frustrated and hurt, you turned to the only person who knew Jisung better than you: Aunt May. Nervously, you picked at the lint covering your comforter, waiting for someone to answer the phone. After three rings, Aunt May’s voice came through.

“Hello, Y/n, how are you?” She asked, her cherry voice lifting your mood to some degree.

“I’m well! I was wondering if Jisung came home yet, he told me he had to work on a project after school and I wanted to make sure he got home safe.”

“Why, he’s been home since school ended. He ran straight upstairs and he’s been in there for hours.” Your face flushed in annoyance and you almost drew blood with how harshly your teeth dug into your lower lip.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I’m sorry dear. He’s been acting rather odd the past few days, if that makes you feel any better.”

Sighing heavily, you assured her that you were fine and bid her goodbye before hanging up the phone. You flopped back on your bed, stuck staring at the ceiling. Minutes passed and you hardly blinked, the glow in the dark stars you and Jisung had stuck on the ceiling slowly melting into the ugly cream paint. You had put the stars up when you were in fourth grade. Jisung had received them as a birthday gift and, knowing that your parents would be more lenient than his aunt and uncle, decided it would be a great idea to put them in your room instead. At that time he slept over constantly, so it made sense to the both of you. You worked together without your parents knowledge, giggling as half of the stars ended up on each other’s faces. While your parents didn’t mind the stars, they were distraught that you had used a chair and a pile of books in order to reach the ceiling. Jisung comforted you as you sniffled, embarrassed that your parents had scolded you in front of your best friend. In fact, Jisung had always comforted you when you were distraught or in pain. You could always count on him as a shoulder to lean on, and you hoped he felt the same for you.

Determined to help him in his obvious time of need, whether he wanted it or not, you sat up and swung your legs over the side of your bed. You were best friends, god dammit, and best friends are always supposed to have each other’s backs. Throwing on a pair of shoes you stormed your way down the block towards Jisung’s house, weaving your way through the busy New York sidewalks. Finally arriving, you briefly greeted Aunt May and Uncle Ben before marching up the stairs. Not even bothering to knock, you swung his bedroom door open only to be hit right in the face with a sticky substance.

“Shit, fuck what the fuck are you doing here!” Jisung stuttered, scrambling to your side to aid you in peeling off whatever the hell was on your face.

“Jisung what the fuck? What is this? And why have you been lying to me?” You shot back, finally ripping off the remaining substance and inspecting it in your hands.

“I…it’s hard to explain.”

“Well I’m all ears. And I think I deserve an explanation at this point.” You glared, holding your ground.

“Fine.” He sighed, sitting down on his bed and patting the spot beside him, signalling for you to sit beside him. Cautiously you sat down and he shuffled closer, your thighs now pressed against one another. “So you know how I got bit by that spider and then I almost passed out on your floor?”

“A little dramatic but yes go on.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t worried,” he huffed before continuing. “Well anyways I did pass out when I got home and, well you saw me the next day. I was perfectly fine. In fact, look I got jacked!” Jisung pulls up his shirt sleeve, flexing so that you can see the newly formed muscles. Your cheeks turn red and your eyes flitted around the room, not sure where to look.

“Ok, I see, please go on.”

“Aw, little Y’n’s all shy because her best friend is hot, how cute,” he teased, prompting you to smack him on his now rather firm bicep. “Anyways, so I was like ‘huh this is weird but gotta get to school’ because, you know, education comes first! But then my hands kept…like…sticking to stuff. I mean you saw that morning, I had to pry my hands off of you! So then I kept doing stuff that was really weird for me like, dude, I closed my locker like how I normally do? Right? But the entire row shook and I swear they almost came off the wall. That’s why I didn’t walk home with you, I wanted to try and figure out what was going on. And, well, I think I figured it out.”

You looked at him expectantly as he seemed to be internally struggling with what to say next. With a sigh, he turned to face you.

“It’s easier if I just show you. You see that soda can over there? Keep your eye on it.”

Confused, you complied nonetheless, eyes trained on the empty can. In a flash, a white string shot out and attached to the can, pulling it into Jisung’s hand.

“What the fuck was that?” You gaped in awe at the can.

“It’s like, well, that spider gave me spider powers?”

“So you’re telling me that you shot me in the face with a fucking spider web?”

“…Yes? Sorry?” He grimaced, his body shrinking into his frame.

“You’re like…you’re like some sort of superhuman then?”

“I guess you could call it that, yea.”

“Well, what are you gonna do now?”

“I’m not really sure yet, I’m still trying to keep all of this shit under control.”

“Ok, well, just be safe, I guess.” You shrugged, fiddling with the frayed strings of the friendship bracelet Jisung had sloppily made for you last Valentine’s Day.

“You’re not freaked out or anything? I mean, this is pretty weird.”

“You’ve always been pretty weird Jisung, I figured you’d get into some trouble at some point. I just didn’t expect something so…supernatural, I guess.”

“I take offense to that.” He huffed, yanking at the bracelet in order to gain your full attention.

“But you know it’s true.” You teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I mean, it’s a little freaky. As long as you’re not hurt, though, and as long as you don’t shoot any more fucking webs in my face, then I have no need to be worried.”

“Aw, is little baby Y/n worried about me? How cute.” Jisung cooed, squishing your cheeks between his palms.

“I’m always worried about you, asshole.” You rolled your eyes, swatting his hands away. “You’re such an idiot and you constantly get into shit, how could I not be.”

“You’re seriously such a mom. I promise, I’m not gonna get into any trouble, ok? You don’t have to worry about me baby.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

❃❃❃❃

Your feet pounded against the pavement as you raced towards Jisung’s house. You hardly paid notice to the people around you, unable to hear anything besides your heavy footsteps and your heart practically beating out of your chest. Arriving at his doorstep you yanked the door open, immediately calling out for anyone. You had barely kicked off your shoes when you spotted Aunt May sat at the kitchen table, her head cradled in her hands. Cautiously, you walked over, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up, giving you a feeble smile before pulling out the chair beside her, signalling for you to sit down. Neither of you spoke; neither of you even knew what to say. You sat there for what felt like hours, waiting for something to break the silence.

That something came half an hour later in the form of a panting and slightly bloodied Jisung. Rising to your feet you were prepared to take him into your arms but you held yourself back, realizing he and his aunt needed each other more than they needed you. You stood by the table, watching the two embrace each other, murmuring words of comfort to one another. Eventually, Aunt May broke away, mumbling something about needing to go to bed. Jisung turned to you, gesturing for you to follow him to his room. The door closed with a soft thud and Jisung pulled you into his arms. You rubbed a soothing hand along his back, allowing him to quietly sob into your shoulder. He pulled away after a few minutes, wiping at his eyes and allowing you to see the damage done to his face.

“What the hell happened Ji?” You queried, voice barely above a whisper as your fingertips brushed over the cuts littered around his face.

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged, turning his face away from your concern laced gaze.

“It’s clearly something. I find out that—that your Uncle has been killed? And then you’re missing for what, hours, only to come back looking like this? Do you have any idea how worried I was, let alone your Aunt?”

“I told you that you don’t have to worry about me Y/n.”

“Well clearly I do. Now tell me what. Happened.”

“I followed him.” Jisung spoke up after a pregnant pause, voice barely above a whisper.

“What? Who—who did you follow?” You stuttered, already knowing the answer but dreading it nonetheless.

“I followed that bastard who killed my Uncle.”

You started at his words, shock and anger pumping through your veins.

“Jesus Christ Jisung how fucking��reckless and, and stupid do you have to be? That’s so dangerous Jisung you could have gotten seriously hurt!”

“He killed my Uncle, Y/n. I don’t give a shit if I got hurt.”

“You may not care but I do. And did you even stop to think about how much that would destroy your Aunt? She already lost her husband she can’t lose you as well. I—I can’t lose you Ji.”

The room turned silent for a moment and you fiddled with your bracelet, waiting for Jisung to speak up. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before he brought it down to rest upon your waist. His gaze locked with yours and you tried to comprehend what was going on in his mind.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” Jisung trailed off, inhaling deeply. You rubbed at his arm soothingly, encouraging him to keep talking. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Your hand faltered on his bicep, squeezing the muscle lightly.

“What do you mean?” Your voice came out barely over a whisper, head tilting to the side in confusion. Jisung paused, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“I could have stopped him. That fucking bastard who killed my uncle; I had the chance before to stop him but I let him go and now look what happened.”

“Ji…”

“No, Y/n, I know what you’re going to say. But I can’t help but feel like I’m at fault here, ok? Fuck, I was just so mad and upset at myself that I, I followed him.”

“You what?” You nearly yelled, pushing him slightly.

“I fucking followed him, ok? I have all these powers and shit now, why not use them to do good? It was so easy to follow him and I just…wrapped him up in the web and left him for the cops.”

“That’s so dangerous Jisung you could have gotten seriously hurt!”

“He killed my Uncle, Y/n. I don’t give a shit if I got hurt.”

“Jisung I don’t…it’s not good…this, you could’ve been hurt!”

“Why don’t you get that I. Don’t. Care!” He shouted, grasping your shoulders. “I have powers now, I can help us, help the city! I can’t just sit idly by when I know I can be out there helping people!”

You’re frozen, torn between scolding and praising him. His hands are still glued to your shoulders, his breathing labored from his previous speech. A moment passed as you both deliberated over what to say next, minds whirring a mile a minute. Bringing your hands up to rest on his chest, you heave a heavy sigh.

“Don’t get hurt, ok? I’ll fucking kill you if you get hurt.”

“Isn’t that rather counter productive.” Jisung smirked, the air in the room lightening as the serious atmosphere slowly faded away.

“You know what I’m saying asshole. Do good but stay safe. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t lose you either, yea? You’re my best friend, I don’t know what I’d do without you. We need each other. Hell, I’d probably be dead by now if it wasn’t for you.”

“You give me too much credit.” You laugh, bringing a hand up to move his bangs away from his eyes.

“You don’t even know half of what you’ve done for me.” Jisung interjects, taking your face into his hands. “You’ve helped me so much, and you don’t even know.” His hands fell down to grasp yours, slowly walking you towards his bed. He flopped down on his back, pulling you to lay down beside him. Wrapping you in his arms, Jisung nuzzled his nose into the top of your head, both of you breathing in each other’s scent.

“Thank you.”

❃❃❃❃

Sat at one of the picnic tables in a small park by your home, you were taking in the peaceful sounds surrounding you whilst eating your lunch. Graduation had taken place a week ago, both you and Jisung earning your well earned, well mostly well earned, diplomas. Wanting to make the most of your summer before you had to head off to college, you decided to just relax, hence your current situation. You closed your eyes, concentrating on the birds chirping, only to be interrupted by a loud slam on the wooden table. Your eyes snap open to be faced with a fuming Jisung.

“Have you fucking seen this shit?” He hissed out, finger jabbing at the crumpled newspaper laid out on the table. You looked down to read the headline.

“Spider-Man: superhero or superzero?” You read aloud, looking up to face him when you’re done.

“They’re saying I’m a menace, that I—I’m terrorizing the city and making the police’s job even harder! As if the police even fucking do anything anyways! New York has never had a lower crime rate and it’s definitely no thanks to them.”

“Jisung calm down there are people around.” You whispered, coming around the picnic bench to stand before him.

“I’m sorry Y/n but I’m just so fucking pissed off right now. They’re acting like I’m the bad guy when I’m the only person doing any good out there.”

“Just ignore it, Ji. They’re just assholes trying to profit off of all the hype you’re creating. The truth is the people love you and that’s all that matters.”

“I know I just…it kinda hurts. I’m just trying to help the city but the city forces are trying to villainize me.” He sighs, bringing his forehead down to press against your own.

“Don’t let it get to you, focus on what really matters.”

“All of the people who love and adore me.” He grinned down at you.

“Don’t let all the praise get to you either, idiot.” You smack his chest, taking a step away from him. “Focus on helping people, not on what people say about you. Whether it may be good or bad.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. Even when I’m rich and famous I won’t forget about you.”

“You’re literally such an asshole.” You rolled your eyes, sitting back down at the table.

“And yet you still love me.” He teased back, taking the seat across from you.

“Occasionally.”

“More like all the time.”

“You wish, spiderboy.”

“It’s Spiderman!”

“Oh? Where? I don’t see him.”

“Look who’s being an asshole now.” Jisung whined, reaching over to snag a few of the chips you were eating.

“It’s all because I love you.” Slightly sticking your tongue out at him, you reached over to give him half of your sandwich. “Now eat up, we can’t have the city’s number one superhero starving to death.”

Jisung takes a huge bite, chewing slowly. “Always taking such good care of me.” His words were muffled, fighting to get through the sandwich stuffed in his mouth.

“Gross, swallow before you speak.” You wrinkled your nose, clamping his mouth shut with your hands. A mischievous glint filled Jisung’s eye but you stopped him before he could speak. “Who would think that the city’s number one hero would be such a pervert.”

Jisung swallowed before clearing his throat. “You’re the only one who gets to know baby.” He grinned.

“So annoying.”

“Only for you babe, only for you.”

❃❃❃❃

“I think I’m dying.” Jisung groaned, flopping through your window onto the bed, his hand clutched to his side.

“Jesus Christ Ji, what the hell happened?”

“The fucking Goblin. He won’t stop terrorizing the city. Got me in the side with some weird flying machine thing. It’s not that deep, see?” Jisung removed his hand, showing you the shallow gash. You had seen worse on him, that was true, but it still looked painful. Since you were the only one who knew the man behind the mask, Jisung had taken to visiting you whenever he got hurt, despite your less than subpar nursing skills. Not to mention that you had to come up with weak excuses for your parents in order to explain the sudden influx of first aid kits littered around your room.

“You need to be more careful.” You tsked, rummaging through your desk drawer to find an open kit. “I swear, I’m about to go broke from buying you all this shit.” You pour some alcohol onto a cotton pad, swiping it over the wound.

“Fuck, it’s not exactly something I can control.” He hissed out, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You know, for some odd reason, the bad guys don’t exactly care whether or not I get hurt.”

“Looks like I have to give them a good talking to then, because I really can’t waste all my money on this shit.”

“Thanks for your concern.”

“Yea, yea, whatever. Now take the suit off.”

“If you wanted to see me naked you should have just asked.”

“I don’t want you to be naked I just need to get this bandage around you. And I did ask. You should really get a better suit, you know, this one is practically being held together by thread.”

“And where am I supposed to get a better suit?”

“I don’t know, ask someone on craigslist or something.” You mumbled. Unwinding some gauze, you began to wrap it around Jisung’s waist. The task required you to reach around him, your cheek nearly coming in contact with his chest. Finishing up, you pulled away, cheeks red from the close proximity. You busied yourself with cleaning up your equipment, unaware of how Jisung’s face was flushed, the coloring travelling down to his bare chest. Closing the kit, you turned back to face Jisung who had managed to calm his beating heart.

“You should go home now, it’s getting late and your Aunt might notice you’re gone.”

“Actually she went to stay with her sister for the weekend, something about needing a girl’s weekend. I was hoping I could stay here?” Jisung’s voice raised at the end, bringing a duffle bag out from behind his back.

“Guess I can’t exactly say no, can I. Don’t want to get in trouble for kicking a superhero out of my house.”

“Stop acting like I’m a chore.” He whined, tugging at your sleeve.

“Of course you can stay over, what kind of best friend would I be if I made you go home?” You smiled, patting his hand. “Now go get washed up, you smell like shit.”

“Always so kind to me.” Jisung grinned, lifting himself off of your bed to head towards the bathroom. He winced lightly as he stood and you sat straight up but Jisung merely waved you off, signalling that he was all right. You fiddled around on your phone while you waited for him to get washed up, having already gotten ready for bed before his elegant arrival. The door closed and Jisung gently flopped down beside you, looking over your shoulder to gaze at your phone. Scrolling through Instagram, you watched a few funny videos before you locked your phone, reaching over Jisung to place it on your nightstand. He pulled you down onto his bare chest, deeming it too warm to wear a shirt, and you listened to his heartbeat, the sound slowly lulling you to sleep. Sweat beaded on Jisung’s forehead, both from the heat and the fear that you would pick up on how fast and erratic his heartbeat was. Lazily he rubbed your arm, staring up at your ceiling. He counted the glow in the dark stars until he fell asleep.

❃❃❃❃

Darkness clouded your vision, eyes struggling to adjust to the absence of light. A searing pain pounded at the back of your head, making it even more difficult to focus on your surroundings. Attempting to move your limbs, you find your ankles bound in chains locked to the floor. You tried to focus on a single spot in the room, shapes slowly becoming prominent. Just as you’re able to make out the items surrounding you, a door opens and the lights turn on, nearly blinding you. You bring a hand up to your eyes, attempting to shield them from the bright light. They adjust much quicker this time, and you inhale sharply at your surroundings. You’re sat in the center of the room, floors existing only on the perimeter of the room and where you’re sat, the rest of the room taken up by what is, essentially, a giant fish tank. Looking up, you lock eyes with the man behind your current situation.

“The Green Goblin.” You whispered, eyes flickering to the tripod he was fiddling with, placing a camera to face directly towards you. “W—what is this? Why am I here?”

“As if you don’t already know.” His voice rang throughout the room, his glowing green eyes piercing through your shaking form.

“I really don’t.”

“I would expect someone so close to Spiderman to be much smarter than you.” He tsked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I—I don’t know…Spiderman’s identity is a secret to the whole city—”

“Bullshit! I’m not as dumb as you and your little friend. Did he really think he could keep you safe? For fuck’s sake the kid whizzed off to your apartment every time we fought, it wasn’t hard to follow him. Too bad you always closed the curtains before he took his mask off, otherwise you wouldn’t be here; I’d be able to take out that little shit if I saw his face. Looks like I have to use you as bait instead, draw him out of hiding.”

“And then what, you throw him in the tank?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that would be too easy. I’d much rather see the city he protects turn against him, tearing him apart until he has no choice to give up. See this camera here? This camera is programmed to override every screen in the city, along with another camera situated across town. That camera, my dear, will broadcast a timer, counting down to the detonation of a bomb situated right in the heart of Manhattan. The whole city will be able to watch their favorite hero choosing you over the city. He already knows you’re here, and he knows that he has twenty minutes before that bomb goes off, and before the floor beneath you disappears, leaving you to fall into the water below you. And, spoiler alert! You won’t be able to get out.”

You shivered at his revelation, fear and disgust crawling up your spine. There was no way Jisung could save everyone, there just wasn’t enough time. Of course you didn’t want to die, but the thought of the whole city running Jisung out of town because of you? It was practically unfathomable. It did make you wonder, would Jisung risk thousands of lives just for you? Sure, you were his best friend, but that’s where the line stopped. You were convinced your feelings for him didn’t go both ways, and this definitely wasn’t how you wanted to find out how he really felt.

“Now, your little boyfriend should be here in about, hmmm, I’d give him fifteen minutes before he shows up.” The Goblin cackled, pulling your attention back to the present. “Smile for the camera, dear.” He turned the camera on before slipping out the door, giving you one last taunting wave. You sat there, rigid, feeling the eyes of thousands of people on you, even though you were alone in the room. It felt as though you were on a a dissection table, surrounded by people watching you get picked apart. People you didn’t know, people who didn’t know you, were suddenly transfixed on your every movement, waiting for Spiderman to show up; or not. The room was silent save for the water churning around you, filling you with fear with every passing moment. You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, The Green Goblin not providing you with the luxury of any form of timepiece. All you could do was sit and wait, stuck unknowing of when you were going to die. You had finally come to terms with your impending death, prepared to be plunged into the water at any moment. Then the door flew open.

“Fucking shit.” Jisung gasped, suited body doubled over in an attempt to regain his breath.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hissed, tears forming at the edge of your eyes. “You have to leave. You have to save the city.”

“I’m not leaving you. There’s still time, I can get you out of here.”

“No, you can’t. I’m…there’s chains. You can’t, you have to leave.” Your voice cracked as you tried to keep your composure. “Just…just let me go. The world needs you.”

“But I need you.” Despite the mask covering his face, you could tell he was staring straight into your eyes, trying to convey the emotions he couldn’t put into words. Your heart clenched, tears falling down your cheeks as you tried to comprehend all the emotions flying around the room. Struggling to splutter out a response, Jisung cut off your blubbering.

“Besides,” His voice suddenly had a cocky lilt to it and you could tell he was smirking under his mask. “I’ve got this.” He brought his left hand out from behind him, a mass of wires and metal sat in his hand.

“Is that…?”

“The bomb?” He chuckled, tossing the contraption up into the air. “Why yes, yes it is.”

“Why the hell didn’t you lead with that?”

“I thought this would be more dramatic; besides, the city is watching.”

“You asshole.”

“You love me.”

“So now what, we blow up and the city is saved?”

“Of course not!” He exclaimed. “You see, The Goblin made a mistake. This pool is meters deep and there is no one around for maybe a mile wide radius. If I were merely to drop this bomb into the pool, the water would take all of the shock from the explosion. So, let me just put this here and I can help you get out of here.” With that, Jisung dropped the bomb into the pool before swinging over to where you sat, fingers working to unlock the chains from around your ankles.

“You’re insane Jisung.” You whispered, making sure the camera wouldn’t be able to pick up his name.

“Only for you, babe.” He muttered. “It’s not coming off fuck ok, give me a second.” He dropped the lock and positioned his wrist at the keyhole. Webs shot out, wrapping around and inside the lock. You held your breath, gaze unwavering from Jisung’s handiwork.

“How much time do we have?”

“Enough.” A second later, the lock shattered from the pressure of the webs and Jisung scooped you up. “Hang on, we gotta get out of here before that thing goes off.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, Jisung swung out of the building, moving as fast as he possibly could to get you away from the explosion’s radius. You closed your eyes tightly, the wind rushing past your ears as you hid your face in Jisung’s shoulder. A loud boom echoed from behind you, and you peaked out to see a large column of water shoot up from the building you had escaped from. You shuddered at the sight, arms tightening around Jisung’s neck.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, landing to perch on top of a nearby building. “Everyone’s safe. You’re safe.” Whipping off his mask, Jisung shook out his hair. It was only then that you noticed the tears running down his face. You brought your hands up to his cheeks, softly stroking them as you wiped away the tears. His eyes closed, nuzzling his cheeks further into the warmth of your hands as he grasped at your waist. The world seemed to be at a standstill, the events of the past few hours feeling eons away as the two of you held each other. A quavering breath broke the silence and Jisung finally opened his eyes, his gaze filled with emotion.

“Are you—are you ok? You must have been so scared, fuck, it’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not your fault. We both should have been more careful, more smart. I should have realized he would follow you, we were both naive.”

“You don’t understand, Y/n. Do you know why he took you?” You shook your head, confusion prevalent on your face as you tried to understand what he was saying.

“Out of all the people in my life that he could have easily found, he chose you. It wasn’t just at random; there’s no way he doesn’t know about my Aunt if he knows about you. It’s because he knows that you’re my greatest weakness. He—he knows that I’m in love with you.”

Your hands faltered and you brought them down to rest on his chest, completely shaken by your best friend’s sudden confession.

“You do?”

“Obviously!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the open air. “I’ve been in love with you since, god, I don’t know! Eighth grade? But it doesn’t matter now, I put you in danger and you probably never want to speak to me again, I wouldn’t be surprised if you moved cross country.”

“Jisung shut up.” You glared at him, slapping lightly at his chest. “I would never, never, leave you. I’m so utterly in love with you, you idiot. What kind of heartless asshole would I be if I just abandoned you like that?”

“Wait, you love me too?”

“Yes! Since, like, freshman year!”

“Maybe The Green Goblin is right, we are pretty stupid.”

“Not stupid, just a little dense.” You laughed lightly, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“More than a little.” Jisung shook his head, resting his forehead against your own. His gaze flickered, momentarily staring at your lips before looking back up. “Can I…?” He whispered, not needing to finish his question as you nodded slightly in compliance. You both leaned in, lips joining in the middle. It was a brief kiss, lasting no more than ten seconds, but it was all you needed to convey the love you held for the boy in front of you. Pulling away, your eyes fluttered open, a dumb smile spread across both of your faces.

“That was so much better than anything I could have ever imagined.” He grinned, his thumb coming up to rub lightly over your bottom lip.

“So you’ve imagined kissing me?”

“I’ve liked you since eighth grade. If I’m being honest, I’ve imagined doing way more with you.”

“God you’re such a pervert!” You groaned, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it. You’re my girlfriend now, we can live out all of my wildest fantasies.” He teased, tightening his grip on you.

“I’m not gonna be your girlfriend if this is how you’ll act.”

“Aw, don’t be like that baby. I’m sorry.” He pouted, pecking you briefly on the lips.

“Fine, I’ll be your girlfriend. Just, promise me you’ll be safe.”

“You know I can’t promise you that,” he sighed, “as long as I’m out here fighting crime it’s inevitable I’ll get hurt along the way.”

“I know,” you huffed, staring straight ahead at the spider emblem sewn to his chest. “But I still want you to be careful, ok?”

“I will. For you, I’ll do anything.”

“So what are we gonna do now? The Green Goblin is still out there, and we don’t know what state the city is in right now.”

“I don’t know.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “All I know is that as long as you’re by my side, everything will be ok.”

“If I don’t break up with you for being a pervert, it’ll be for comments like that.”

“Oh come on! I was being romantic! What more do you want from me?”

“How about you take me home?”

“Moving a little fast now, aren’t we?”

“What did I just say about being a pervert.” Pinching his chest lightly, you glared at his smug expression.

“Sorry babe.” He grinned. “I just can’t control myself around you.”

You shook your head at his antics, laughing nonetheless. Wrapping your arms around his neck, Jisung picked you up and you pressed a kiss to his jawline. Jisung couldn’t contain his grin as he pulled his mask back on, swinging the both of you home through the dark night’s sky.

[canaryatlaw]

today was...a lot. morning was actually pretty good, my emotions have just kinda been all over the place. I never notice when I’m in a depressive spiral until I hit the bottom and look back like oh yeah, that would make sense why I’ve been sleeping so much and feeling so anxious and stressed about work (and I mean, work is definitely a part of it, which really just means I need to get the position at the DV clinic that much more) and discouraged all the time, along with skipping church for like, a solid month, even going in for the babies one week but not staying for the service because I just didn’t have it in me. I think I need to really reevaluate who and what is important to me and how that actually has an impact on my life and wellbeing. Most of all I need to stop relying on other people for emotional fulfillment, because eventually they will let you down and I can’t keep putting myself through that pain. I’ve been thinking back to when my life wasn’t as crazy like it is now. I’ve tended to look back on that time negatively, at least in the positive moments now. But the truth was that while my life was pretty boring, I wasn’t depressed (save for the summer of 2017, but that was external circumstances that I couldn’t control). I was happy with the life I had and the friends I had, and god do I miss those friends. I’m talking to them in a GC on twitter like right now and I really just miss them. It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to see them and actually hang out with them. And these are my friends- mine, not friends by association with someone else who I know aren’t at all loyal to me as actual friends and I really don’t trust most of them. Is it nice to have sometime to do on my weekends now? Yeah, it is, but the drawbacks have been beginning to weigh on me, and now I’m not sure that it’s always what’s best for me. I’m not saying I want it all gone, because for the most part I do very much like my life now, but there are definitely some things that need to change, because I can’t keep doing this. And more than anything I think those changes need to come from me, not anyone else. god, I’d kill for a good therapist that I was comfortable with and knew I could trust right now just to talk this all out with. I just need to be better with controlling my emotions and not getting attached to people who aren’t going to be there for me. I need to rely on myself, not other people. so that’s pretty much all the emotions I’ve been processing. I’m still split on whether I should say anything to my psychiatrist about it at my appointment Tuesday. It’s gotten to the point where I feel like I should, I’m just so scared of switching meds that might result in a very bad result like it has in the past, and I really don’t trust this new guy yet, so far all he’s done is prescribed the meds I told him I was already own, I don’t have any examples of his judgment on which to base a decision. But I realized today that it’s definitely worse than I thought, so at this point I pretty much feel like I have to, even though that scares me. sigh. okay, I think that’s all my feelings for now, I may come back and add more sentences while writing the rest of the post. but yeah, my day, let’s get to that. I woke up to my alarm at 7:15 and surprisingly managed to get out of bed without that much effort. Got ready, public transit was actually cooperating with my schedule for once and I literally made it inside the sanctuary 20 seconds before the service started, lol, can’t beat that. I had taken a seat next to this guy after asking if it was open, and we started talking a little, just bits and pieces during the service. and y’all, he was SO cute. Kinda preppy, wearing a polo shirt, but it looked classy, not douchey. so throughout the service (which I’ll get to in a minute) I’m like sneaking glances over to him. He just moved to Chicago, and it was his first time at the church, so we talked a bit about that stuff. And like, at this point my brain was setting off serious alarm bells (in a good way, lol) because finding single cute guys at this church is fucking impossible, and I saw my opportunity and knew I had to take it. So once the service was over I was just like “I’m never this forward, but are you seeing anyone? dating in this church is impossible because everyone’s already taken, lol” which he laughed at. He responded that he wasn’t seeing anyone, but felt like he wasn’t really in a good place to be in a relationship right now because he’s got some things he has to deal with, but if he was available he would *definitely* be interested, which he certainly did not have to add if he was just trying to blow me off haha. I said ofc I totally understand, and if he gets things worked out, he’d know where to find me. We left off saying we’d see each other in the weeks to come. So overall I’m declaring this a successful guy interaction! I’ve literally never done that before in my life haha so I’d say pretty good. But yeah the service was really good, started by talking about the beginning of Matthew reading the genealogy of Jesus (which is of course not terribly thrilling haha but that was the point) and then went to talking about how each person on that list had a story and how your story is going to impact the people around you if you allow God to work through you and share it. Really good stuff. And just to make it super awesome, they brought an ice cream truck and paid for everyone to get ice cream??? have I mentioned how much I love my church??? so so much, lol. these people get me. So of course I went down and got an ice pop before proceeding to the volunteer huddle, and it was very much appreciated. Once I was done I went to the volunteer lounge and we did our kick off, and then headed to the baby room. There were 3 of us in the babies and 1 in the walkers, but at this point we’d basically been combining them so it wasn’t really an issue. We started getting babies pretty quickly, and they just kept coming, and coming, and coming.....it was getting insane. and when I say babies I mean like infants, under 1 and either not being able to crawl or just starting to figure it out, and we were running out of rockers and just about anything else to put them in. So at this point it was getting to pandemonium very quickly. I think the final count ended up being 18 babies for 4 volunteers, which is NUTS. Thankfully our kids ministry people are super awesome and did everything they could to help out and took the crying ones on a stroller ride with the massive stroller they have, and that always helps. but yeah, in my 3 years of volunteering with the babies, this was the most babies I have ever seen. Like older kids? sure, I’ve seen plenty of those. but babies?? like those are sooo much harder and require so much more attention. so it was definitely a challenge. Apparently the reason for this was for some reason this service was absolutely flooded with people, with the sanctuary packed out and over 100 people (100!!! people!!!) in the overflow space, which is insane. no idea what triggered that, but definitely a good problem to have. so eventually the service ended and everyone got picked up, and after cleaning up I headed home. Commute home was fine, once I got here I had some lunch and was on my laptop for a bit before starting to get some work done, still doing case research so that’s at least preferable to writing for me, and I got 4 hours of work in so that’s good. I’m at 14 hours so far for the week from Friday to today, so to make 40 hours by the end of Thursday I gotta do 3 days of 6 hours and 1 day of 8 hours (or some similar combination) which is definitely doable, so I’m pleased with that. I finally stopped to watch the Teen Choice Awards, which I felt absolutely ridiculous doing, but I wanted to see Monsta X perform, so I stuck it out for them and was pleased with that. My roommate came home earlier than she normally does so we sat and watched it and mostly laughed at people. They ended up not airing like, the majority of the awards and ended it after two hours which was very strange. I could’ve sworn Monsta X got nominated for “Who Do You Love?” in like an international song category, but couldn’t find any proof of that anywhere, so idk. Of course BTS won every award it was nominated for, including best fandom, so no surprise there. Once it was over we watched the news for a bit and eventually my roommate moved to her bedroom and I turned to netflix and watched an episode of Sugar Rush before showering and starting to get ready for bed, and now I’m here. Ooof that was a long post, but I clearly had a lot to say. Hopefully tomorrow will be better emotionally and I’ll be able to figure out what I need to do going forward to take better care of myself. Until then, I definitely need to be getting some sleep since it’s just past 1 am at the moment, and I need to do at least 6 hours of work tomorrow, do laundry, and hopefully make a quick Walgreens run for face wash and milk, so plenty to do so I’m gonna go to bed now. Goodnight friends. Hope your Monday doesn’t suck.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

The Cowboy and The Girl.

Okay here it is the first part of my Joel Miller fic. I’m so excited to do this! You don’t even know. This part is mainly back story but I think it sets up well. Tell me what yall think. I hope yall love it as much as me! Okay I’m shutting up now.

Trish was a bright girl skipping a grade or two. She thought her life was perfect until the end of the world came. Living on her own mostly just trying to make it back home everything changes when she meets a dark haired man named Joel.

Joel Miller x OC Trish

Warnings: A word or two.

Taglist. Tell me if you wanna be added: @amandamaesweetheart @jodiereedus22

Before Sitting on my hotel bed I brushed my hair it still wet from the shower. I needed it after the long day of walking around and looking at the sites. We were in New York. A school field trip. Being alone from my parents at fourteen was definitely exciting.

“You know he is going to propose.” Belle my best friend since the 3d grade says sitting on the bed in front of mine. Her chocolate skin looking flawless from the lotion she just put on. We both skipped from 1st so we stuck together always being the youngest in class.

“Shut up no he won’t.” I say her talking about my boyfriend.

“I bet he will. He is crazy about you.”

“So? We are too young to get married.”

“I said propose not get married.”

“Then what be engaged threw school? What about when we go to college?”

“Why not?”

“Because..”

“Because?”

“I don’t know if I want to marry him.” I say shrugging.

“What? Since when?” She asks throwing a chip at me making me laugh.

“Since he is afraid of everything. I mean I get it his dad is a doctor and it's probably scary and God knows what he reads about or sees but when he starts telling me what weird diseases I can get from doing my laundry at the laundromat is ridiculous. Like tonight I took a drink of his pop and he flipped out.”

“So he don’t like sharing food, a lot of people are like that.”

“Yeah I know but I want a man not whatever he is turning into.”

“Like a lumberjack?” She asks making me laugh.

“No, like someone who will protect me, someone who can put up with my crazy ass and doesn't make me make all the decisions. Someone-.”

“Who lets you steal their food.” She says pointing at me.

“That.” I say smiling.

“No, he is a good guy he just worries so much. Like let me breathe.”

“Ohh I know a cowboy.” She says making me laugh.

“Yes! I want a cowboy I can saddle up with.”

“Kinky.”

“You are so gross.” I say throwing my pillow at her.

“Hey I’m being a supportive best friend.”

“As you should be.”

“Well I guess I should let you get to bed. Have fun dreaming about your cowboy.” She says standing up walking to the door.

“I promise to give you the details.”

“Oh you better.” She says smiling.

“Good night love.” I say waving at her getting under the blankets.

“Night boo.”

I woke up to the phone ringing in my hotel room. I pick it up and press it to my ear someone panting on the other side.

“Hello?” I ask sitting up hearing someone run down the hall.

“Trish is that you?” Asks the familiar voice of boyfriend.

“What’s going on Louie?” I ask sitting up.

“I don’t know, there is some kind of disease, people eating each-.”

“Louie?” I ask into the phone when the call drops.

“Well that was weird.” I say getting up seeing the sun start to rise.

Stretching I walk to the bathroom but stop when someone screams. When my doorknob starts to rattle I back away from it fear pumping threw me.

Going to the phone I pick it up nothing coming threw not even a tile town. I pick up my cell phone it having no service.

“What the hell?” I ask turning to the TV.

Turning it on what I left on a movie channel was the news. A woman looking scared and rasled.

“Reports are coming in from all over there is a nation wide atack. Please remain indoors until a local officer can get you somewhere saver. Please do not panic if you see someone-.” I jump as the TV turns to loud static.

“I gotta get out of here.” I think getting up and quickly changing.

Grabbing my backpack I put some clothes inside it, and all the snacks the hotel offers. Picking up the necklace with my parents picture inside it I put it on. Them giving it to me when I left for this trip.

“Please be okay.” I say sending up a pray to protect them until I got back.

Picking up the map of New York all the students given one I shove it in my bag as well.

I put the pack over my shoulder and open my hotel door. When I find the hallways empty I take a relieved breath.

At the end of the hall being the elevator I slowly start to make my way towards it. Hearing footsteps I freeze up as someone walks out of a room.

“Benny you scared me.” I say looking at him.

He stubbles making me assume he is drunk. When he lifts his head to look at me I gasp as his mouth is covered in blood.

Screaming he lunges at me.

I turn around and starting running in the opposite direction him close behind me. Seeing an arrow pointing to the stairs I push that door open and start running down the steps. Seeing a woman leaning on the wall her holding her stomach I stop.

She looks up at me her eyes foggy.

“He bit me.” She says her head falling forward her passing out.

Holding back tears I continue to the ground floor it opening in the car garage. I jump at the sound of sirens and horns fill my ears.

Every car is trying to get out at the same time them slamming into each other.

“Hey!” Someone says grabbing my arm.

I spin around seeing my best friend Belle standing there.

“Oh my gosh!” I say pulling her into a tight hug.

“We gotta get out of here. These people are crazy!” She says pulling me with her.

“It was on the news. Some nation wide thing!” I yell as we weave threw the cars. When we get out on the main road everyone is running around screaming.

“Trish! Belle!” John yells pulling up next to us him in not his own car.

“Come on.” He says looking at us threw the window.

“It’s better on foot.”

“We’ll be saver in a car.” Belle says getting into the car with him.

“Belle come with me you won’t get far in that.”

“Stop being stupid and come on.” She says waving me in.

“I’m not going.” I say backing up something telling me to stay on foot.

“Be stupid then.” He says driving off.

Feeling alone more than ever I start running not knowing where I'm going just away from here.

Hearing screams I duck down behind some trash cans I alone runs past me and slams into a wall not getting back up when it falls.

“What’s going on?” I ask quickly getting away from the body.

Pulling my map out I look at it seeing where the nearest police station is. Seeing that it’s only a block away I put the map back and start to head that way avoiding the people running past me.

Walking around the corner I realize what they were running from a turned over car is in the middle of the road it on fire.

Even from where I stand I can see the bodies inside them dead. Belle’s lifeless eyes staring into mine.

15 Years Later.

I sit up with a start my heart pounding. Sweating from the dream, or memory I should say. I rub my face trying not to think about the job ahead of me today. I would have to go hunting. I didn’t mind it and wasn’t half bad after ten years of practice but I didn’t know if that group had past threw. I didn’t feel like having to kill anymore.

Hearing the birds chirp outside the spring air drifting thru the old house. I roll my shoulders my back cracking as I stretch my arms over my head.

Picking up my bow and quiver I pick up my canteen needing fresh water.

‘Might take a bath today.’ I think walking out of the house.

It used to be a cabin tourist rented now it was just a cabin in the woods of Tennessee. I don’t know why I kept trying to get back home but I figured I made it this far for a reason.

‘Maybe they are still alive.’ I think following a deer trail.

I walk back to the cabin a rabbit strapped to my hip and a shirt full of berries in my hand. Walking into the house I don’t notice the door being open. The lock was busted a while ago so a breeze could open it.

Setting the food down in the kitchen I take off my bow when the floor over my head cracks. Looking up I watch the dust as something moves over the floor.

‘Please don’t be a bear.’ I think to myself as I dock an arrow and head for the steps.

‘Anything but a bear.’ I think as I push the bedroom door open with my foot.

I stop when I see a man past out on the bed. His feet still on the floor his arm and chest covered in blood. Not counting the busted lip and nose.

‘I would have took the bear.’ I think letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Why do I always have to be the one patching someone up?” I asks myself walking to the bathroom.

Getting what little supplies I had I sit them on the bed.

“Hey!” I call out to him getting nothing.

“Oh don’t be dead.” I say reaching up to shake him again getting nothing.

“Oh come on.” I say pressing my fingers into his neck smiling when I feel a pulse.

“Yes! Atta boy!”

“Now to get you patched up.” I say moving to unbutton his flanel.

I don’t really think about what I’m doing until I hear a groan.

I look up at him his brown eyes meeting mine.

“The hell?” He mumbles his southern accent the first thing I notice.

I don’t bother replying him passing out.

“Alright Cowboy let's fix you up.” I say pushing the fabric to the side an angry gash on his side. His shoulder looking like a stitched up bullet wound had popped back open but other then that he was fine.

Cleaning his side off I set to to sowing him up, him not waking up while I do it. After I’m done I rebutton his shirt and go to make food.

I checked on the stranger in my bed throughout the night him not waking up but he was still alive so I didn’t worry to much.

The next morning I was in the kitchen mixing the berries I found with the nuts I found almost a week ago when I heard a bored creek.

Grabbing the knife on my hip I freeze when an arm wraps around my throat. Judging by the fact my head was pressed against someone’s chest. This was the man from upstairs.

“Good morning to you too.” I say lifting my hands where he could see them.

“Where am I?” He asks his country twang proving my guess.

“Earth last I checked.” I say resulting in him tightening his grip slighting.

“Okay, don’t like jokes sorry. You are in my house. I’m Trish by the way nice to meet you.”

“Who else is with you?” He asks his breath fanning over my face.

“No one. Just me.”

“Your alone out here?”

“Yeah, so if your gonna kill me go ahead.”

“You patched me up?” He asks his grip losing.

“Sure did. One hell of a way to thank someone.”

Grunting he lets go of me and takes a step back. Turning around to face him I realize how big he is. He was easily a head taller than me, his wide shoulders making me feel very tiny.

“Your welcome by the way.” I say him letting out a grunt as he looks me up and down.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Well I was gonna eat breakfast. You are welcome to join me if...” I say meeting his brown eyes.

“You give me your name. Not unless you are cool with being called Cowboy for the rest of your time here.” I say him lifting the corner of his mouth.

“Joel.”

Smiling I hand him my bowl of food.

“Nice to me Joel. I’m Trish.”

5 Years Later: Summer

I was sitting in front of the window watching the sunset the room around me so silent I could almost hear my heart beat. It was times like these when I was alone I wish I could just run away. Live on a farm out in the woods be free. I touch my necklace the locket making me smile. It was tarnished and the picture inside faded but it lasted all these years that I was thankful for.

Hearing footsteps come down the hall I turn my head to look at the door.

The infected couldn’t turn the knob so I wasn’t worried about that. Watching the knob turn I lift my gun it cocked and aimed a familiar face at the end of the barrel.

“Cowboy!” I say grinning lowing my gun.

“Fucking hell Trish what the hell are you doing here?” Joel asks shutting the door behind the girl who’s with him.

“I needed somewhere to lie low.”

“What did you do now?” He asks his scowl set in place.

“Nothing... “

“Wanna try again?”

“Umm I’m sorry but who are you?” The girl asks pulling us out of are soon to be argument.

“Oh sorry I’m Trish and you?”

When she doesn't answer I cock an eyebrow at her.

“Ellie.” She says sighing.

“Nice to meet ya Ellie.” I say smiling holding my hand out to her.

She takes it shaking it and quickly letting go.

“No need to be scared of me. I’m harmless right Joel?” I ask looking at him.

“If you think annoying the hell out of me is harmless then yes you are.”

“He likes it.” I say winking at her as he lays back on the couch rubbing his head.

“You wanna tell me why you are here?”

“I may or may not have stabbed a guard.”

“Why did you go an do something like that?”

“He thought he knew something about you and Tess smuggling and try to get it out of me. So I made him forget.”

“That how you got that.” He asks most likely looking at my busted lip.

“I've had worse.”

“So you two like know each other?” Ellie asks looking between us.

“More or less.” Joel says closing his eyes.

“Five years. We’ve known each other for five years.” I say looking at her.

“How did you two meet?” She asks sitting in the chair next to me.

“Oh I’m not getting paid enough for this.” He says rubbing his face and laying down on the couch.

“Need a nap old man?”

I grin when he lets out a growl.

“Does he know his watch is broken?” Ellie asks making me look from Joel to her.

“Yeah he knows.” I say softly hoping she understands that's a topic that is not talked about.

I was the type to tell you my whole life story. I knew Joel for five years and only in the past year found out he even had a child at one point.

“So how did you two meet?”

“Oh right, I was living in a cabin at the time, come home, find him half dead on my bed. I patch him up and when he comes to he repays me but trying to snap my neck. Fun times really.” I say smiling getting off the busted heater I was sitting on.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because he is an angry old bear that gets poked easily.” I say walking to my bag but stop when Joel’s hand wraps around my wrist.

“Will you two shut up?” He asks his eyes never opening.

“What are we supposed to do if we can’t talk?”

“I’m sure you will figure that out.” He says letting go of my wrist his arm going to lay over his eyes.

“Fine.” I say moving to the other end of the couch I push at his feet making them fall off the couch him lifting his head to glare at me.

“What? You and little miss are clearly waiting for something Tess I’m guessing and if Im not aloud to talk then I got to find some way to kill the time.” I say sitting down.

“What should I do?” Ellie asks looking at me.

I don’t get to reply Joel putting his feet in my lap a smirk on his face his eyes once again closed.

“I’m gonna kill him.” I mouth to her making her snicker.

Smiling I lean my head back on the couch letting the silence settle over us. Sleep quickly taking over me.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Adventure: Part 5

Pairings: John Winchester x Reader (SOA/SPN crossover)

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst.

Word Count: 3,128

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

It took all night to get Emma to calm down and finally go to bed. She screamed her poor, little heart out through her bath, over the music you played on your phone, and even after you wrapped her in John’s shirt. The only time she didn’t scream is when she ate around ten-thirty pm and four am and you thanked the lord when she cried herself to sleep at five-fifteen. Which lasted all of an hour when someone began pounding on the front door.

“I got it, lass.” Chibs said sleepily as he shuffled past the guest bedroom with his gun hanging by his side. You nodded as you rolled out of bed and went over to the pack and play.

“Come on, Em. Give mommy and grand pop a break, little girl.”

“Hey… what’s all the crying for?” John asked softly as he dipped into the room. You looked over your shoulder at him and burst into grateful tears as Chibs went back to his room and shut the door a little sharply to finally get some sleep.

“Thank God.” You said as you passed off Emma. “I’m fine just make her stop, please.” He smiled and nodded as he cradled his little girl to his chest.

“Hi princess. Hey.” He cooed as he walked back over and closed the door. “It’s OK, Emma. Daddy’s here. Yea, daddy’s here.” As if he was a magic pill, Emma almost instantly quieted down and fell asleep on his chest. He chuckled as he sat down on the bed beside you.

“You stink.” You said as you curled up in a ball against his side.

“Spent the night in the woods, baby girl. I should stink.” You nodded your head and closed your eyes as he ran his fingers through your hair. “Sleep, sweetheart. I got her.”

——

You woke up a couple hours later to a loud, squealed laugh from the bathroom across the hall from your bedroom. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you rolled off the bed, stretched for a moment, and followed the sound to the bathroom. Chibs’ door was open so you figured he had left as you pushed open the bathroom door.

“…yea, then your brother shot him right in the head with the flair gun.” John said in a sing song voice as he brushed his fingers through Emma’s hair to wash the honey apple baby wash out of her brown curls. “Yea, he did.”

“Are you traumatizing our child already?” You asked as you leaned on the door frame to watch with a smile.

“I’m educating our child.” He said with a smile as he got some water in his hand and rinsed off his daughter. “Yes, I am.” He glanced over at you and blew you a kiss as he poured more water down the back of Emma’s head. “Chibs left. Said to stick around, he’d come back to say bye in a couple hours. And she ate breakfast.”

“Thank you, baby.” He nodded and smiled back down at Emma.

“I missed you both so much.” He said as he kissed her forehead.

“Oh, we most definitely missed you too. Want me to take her so you can finish up?” He nodded and you pushed off the wall to grab your daughter. “Come here baby.” You said as you grabbed her towel off the closed toilet seat and tossed it open over your shoulder. John opened the door and handed you Emma, who nearly instantly started to cry.

“Aw, it’s OK, princess. Daddy’s right here.” He chuckled as you wrapped her in her towel.

“You spoil her to much, John.” You said with a shake of your head.

“She’ll be back to normal in a day or two. I promise.”

“Hey, now. All you’ve done is cry, baby girl. What’s all that about, huh?” You asked as you carried her into your room while toweling her off. “What do we wanna wear today?” You asked yourself as you put Emma in a diaper while she was distracted by the fan above your head. You grabbed your duffle and set it on the bed with a hum as you put your knee on the bed beside your daughter so she didn’t roll. You smiled as you grabbed a pink onesie you found in a thrift store that read ‘I’m cute, mom’s hot, dad’s screwed’ and put her in that. You were just putting a pair of cute, ruffled, black bloomers when John came in.

“So did you have fun here?” John asked as he came in to get dressed.

“Well I don’t know if you can call it fun.” You said as you picked up Emma and put her in the new bouncer. “Interesting would be a more appropriate word I think. Got this.” He looked over at you as you grabbed the manilla envelope out of your bag and tossed it on the bed.

“Holy shit.” He said as he grabbed a stack of cash and ran his thumb over the edge. “There’s gotta be like…”

“Almost two hundred thousand dollars? Yea, Jax sold our house. Saved over half of it for me. I spent some of it on stuff we needed for her and then opened up a bank account in Emma’s name with fifty grand in it for college and shit. Hope that’s OK.”

“No that’s fine, sweetheart. That’s good thinking.” He put the money back in the envelope and handed it back to you. “It’s your money, baby girl…”

“Our money.” You said as you shoved the envelope back in your duffle. “And Jax is selling my old car for me, too. So we’ll have that. Maybe we can consider adding a star or two to our hotel every couple months?”

“Or we can get a house.” You looked up at him as you buttoned your shorts and shook your head.

“I don’t want one, John. I don’t want to settle down anywhere. I like being…”

“And you don’t know what you’re really signing up for with a baby on the road long term in the hunters life, (Y/N). You’re gunna either be leaving her behind, alone, while we go and hunt or you’re going to be left behind in a hotel room with her while I go hunting…”

“So being in a house is so much better? Being on the road you at least come home to us every night. We settle down and you come home, what, maybe once a week? Once a month, if I’m lucky? Fuck, I coulda stayed married if I wanted that…”

“OK, OK.” He said as he came over and gave you a hug to interrupt your slightly panicked rant. “No house. We don’t need a house.” You nodded against his bare chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist with a sigh.

“Sorry, it’s just… Charming makes me crazy.”

“You’re always crazy, baby girl.” He chuckled. He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head before pulling away. “Alright, let’s get the truck packed up so we can get out of here when Chibs comes back. We’ll go find a three star hotel to stay at for a couple days. Maybe scar our daughter a little more by making a second?”

“Not happening, John. One baby is more than enough. You’re too old to chase after two.”

“Hey! I’m not that fucking old!” He laughed as he whacked your leg with his towel.

“Yes you are baby. But it’s OK. I love you all the same.”

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

“Hey (Y/N), is this bag going in the trash?” John called out from the living room as you folded the last load of clothes in the laundry room.

“Is it by the black couch or the brown couch?�� You called back as you put a pair of your panties on your pile.

“Black.”

“No, that’s getting donated.” You yelled as you snagged the last sock from the dryer and tossed it on John’s pile. “Wait, let me see to make sure.” You said as you grabbed both of your and Emma’s pile of clean clothes and headed out of the little laundry room off the kitchen into the living room. You looked at the bag of clothes from your car; all stuff that you hadn’t worn since you were a teenager and nodded. “Yea, that’s donation. This one is all trash. And make sure you don’t mix them because some of them are blood stained and we don’t need to explain why.”

“Got it.” He said as he set the donation bag down and grabbed the trash one to take it out back. You continued on to your bedroom, where you had every article of clothing your family owned neatly stacked on the bed to be repacked with some semblance of order in your duffles, when someone knocked on the front door. You dropped the clothes in your arms quickly and ran to the door before who ever was at Chibs’ house could ring the door bell and wake up Emma. You were absolutely not expecting the female officer on the other side of the door.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I’m looking for Filip Telford?” You nodded your head as you put your foot behind the door and closed it a little bit.

“Right house but he’s not here. And you are…?” She sized you up and glanced over your head into the house.

“Lieutenant Jarry. San Joaquin county sheriffs… do you mind if I come in and wait?”

“Do you have a warrant?” You asked without missing a beat, knowing full and well that if you let a cop into a Sons club members house without one you’d be dead in a minute. Her eyes met yours and there was a slight familiarity to them.

“Just a friendly chat. Who are you?”

“None of your Goddamn business that’s who.” She cocked her eyebrows at you as you stood your ground in the sliver of the door way.

“Technically, you’re breaking and enter…”

“Oh, please.” You said with a sarcastic scoff. “I don’t know who you are, lady but I have more right to be here than you do. Not that it’s any of your fucking business but I’m his daughter…”

“Kerrianne?” Your head reeled as you tried to figure out who this woman was as Chibs finally came home.

“Dude, who are you?” You barked over the rumble of the motorcycle. Chibs killed his engine and got of his bike with a shake of his head.

“Althea… no’ a good time.” He said as he headed up the walkway toward you. Your face paled and your stomach rolled as you looked at the woman you only knew by name.

“Althea Jarry of Fresno?” You asked as your head began to spin. She looked over at you a little terrified and nodded her head slowly.

“How did you…?” She asked as you held onto the door for balance.

“You left your two day old daughter at a fire station when you were seventeen with a note that said you were sorry you couldn’t be a parent yet. I’m (Y/N) and you can go fuck yourself.” Without another word to her, you turned on your heel and slammed the door in her face, which woke up Emma again.

“(Y/N)…?” You shook your head at John and continued down the hall to your crying daughter. 

“Get me out of this fucking state.” You whispered as you shook your head. You heard the front door slam once more behind you as you started packing your bags quickly.

“Luv… I didn’ know.” Chibs said as he stuck his head in your door way as John picked up Emma and started to sooth her.

“No one did.” You said as you as you frantically shoved clothes into both bags without thinking. “Not a single soul knew I knew her name. No one knew she left me a letter. No one knew because she didn’t fucking matter in my life. She didn’t want me and I sure as fuck don’t want her. And I don’t want you telling her anything about me. Nothing at all. Nor about Emma. She gave up that chance to know her daughter…”

“(Y/N)…” John said carefully but you shook your head.

“No, fuck her. I…”

“Baby girl!” You looked over at him with your eyebrows raised and your wild eyes searched his. “She wants you. I can’t feed her.” You took a deep breath and looked at your fussy baby girl who was chewing on John’s finger and started to hyperventilate. Tears started pouring down your cheeks as your emotions overwhelmed you.

“Come ‘ere, luv. ’s’a’right.” Chibs said as he grabbed your arm before your knees gave out. He helped you over the pile of clothes and onto your bed. He told John he’d come back in a bit with some water before excusing himself. John climbed up on the bed next to you and gently laid Emma in your arms.

“Fuck her.” He said simply as he unsnapped your nursing tank top while you cradled Emma to your chest. “She’s nothing to us.” You nodded your head slowly and leaned into his side as you helped your world latch on for her lunch. Once you were sure she was eating, you turned into John’s shoulder and simply sobbed.

——

“She’s pulling me over.” John growled as he looked at your birth mother in his rear view mirror.

“I see it.” You said as you looked away from the side view mirror and turned in your chair. You sighed when she hit the siren once and shook your head. “Just pull over.” He nodded his head and pulled the truck over to the side of the road as you leaned into the back seat to pull up the sun shade you had to block your daughter from her view.

“She’s coming around to you.” He warned. You looked up at him through your lashes as you put a rattle Chibs had picked up for your daughter in her car seat beside her.

“Is this really happening?” You inquired as Althea stopped behind you and looked at your back through the tinted window. He nodded his head slowly as she reached up and rapped her knuckle on the glass. With a sigh, you rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair to roll down your window. “How can I help you, officer?” You asked with forced smile.

“Can I just talk to you?” She asked as she took a step closer to the truck.

“Let me ask you something.” John said as he put his arm over the back of the bench seat and turned toward the passenger side window. “Parent to… well, I guess I can’t really call you a fucking parent but we’ll just throw that term in loosely, how about that?” You smirked and quickly covered it with the back of your hand as you looked over at his straight, emotionless face. 

“I have three kids. Two are in their late twenties and one is under a year. My boys lost their mother when they were just babies, one of them no older than my youngest is now. I lost my house, I lost my job, I lost every single thing I had to my fucking name when my late wife passed away except my boys. We lived out of a Chevy Impala, traveling around the country as I looked for whatever fucking work I could find to keep them alive and healthy. Mind you, I was fresh out of the Marines when my oldest was born. Sure, I could have taken the easy way out and put them in the system. Dean was old enough that he’d only partially remember he had a family but Sam was just a baby. He’d remember nothing. They would have been just fine… or they could have ended up like the kid you dumped at a fire house.

They could have bounced around from group home to group home, foster family to foster family, realizing every single day that no one loved them. They could have had to fight for their lives every single moment of every single day to make it through to see the next sun rise. They could have had to live in their car just to get the hell out of the system in any way they could, gotten mixed up in a biker gang at sixteen years old, married off at eighteen, and treated like a piece of shit for the next ten years by the person that was supposed to love and cherish them for the rest of their life because that’s all they felt like they fucking deserved!” He roared before he took a deep breath to control his anger as you turned to give Emma her pacifier. 

“Now you tell me.” He continued as he glared at Althea through the cab around you. “Do you really think you have the fucking right to talk to her? Because I know for a fucking fact if I had dropped my boys off at a fire house, or if I had walked away from (Y/N) and the child we have, I would never, EVER expect to talk to them ever again, even if they were standing right in front of me. And the fact that you think that just because you have a badge, you have the fucking right to talk to her is fucking sickening. Now, unless you were planning on writing me a ticket for something I know I didn’t fucking do, I suggest you get your ass back in your fucking car, turn it around, and drive back to whatever hole you came out of. And you need to stay the fuck away from the woman that you wanted nothing to do with until it was fucking convenient for you.” He dropped his arm and put his truck into drive as Althea nodded and took a step back from the truck.

“You’re such a papa bear.” You said to him as he pulled back on the street while you put the window back up. “So cute.”

“Shut up.” He huffed as you reached over for his hand. He laced his fingers with yours as he pulled your hand over and kissed your fingers. “Love you, baby girl.”

“I love you, too.” You said as you squeezed his hand. “Alright, where we going next? After that shit show weekend, we need to relax.”

“Honestly, I don’t even care.” He said with a glance over at you as he pulled onto the interstate headed out of California. “As long as I have my girls, I’m good.”

[sunflower-fish]

@charankofucker69 here ya go. Hope you like it btw! (Ngl, it's been a while since I've wrote something like this)

It had been a few weeks since Garou had turned himself in, and a whole week since he's been under house arrest. Bang had him do all the housework, like Charanko had to do when he was the only student there.

Things were quiet, even when Bang was gone. Garou didn't talk, his head was usually down, and he would just do whatever chore Bang sent him to do, Charanko boredly watching him when he was supposed to train pretty much each time he could get away with it.

Today was one of those tired days. Bang was out with Demon Cyborg and Caped Baldy, most likely out for a monster attack. Charanko was lazily "reading" a manga about a martial artist who had gotten his crush to notice him, while Garou was doing the chores their sensei had sent him to do for that day.

Today it seemed to be laundry, dishes, floors and fixing the table that Caped Baldy broke somehow, which he was currently working on in silence. Charanko never really took Garou as the "fixing type", but there he was, fixing the damned table like he knew what he was doing. He looked back into his Manga Volume, listening to the sounds of wood and screws. He peaked up again, seeing Garou look the table over and huming. For an obvious first try, the table didn't look too fucked up. The legs were in the wrong places, but not something too noticable.

An hour later he watched as he cleaned the floors of the dojo, the manga volume resting on his thigh, other hand on his chin. For Garou not doing any vigourus work, he seemed to keep his physique up. How he did it, Charanko had no idea why. Maybe he worked out in the middle of the night? Would explain why he's so tired during the day.

"We should get drinks," Charanko commented, eyes wandering down to Garou's hips. "Bang's not supposed to be here until late night. So he wouldn't really know"

"I can't leave the dojo," Garou replied.

"I can get them and come back," Garou sighed. "I'm not hearing a no,"

"Better be good," Charanko grinned, getting up from where he sat.

"I'll be real quick," Garou nodded, focus still on his chores.

Charanko opened the door to the dojo, two 12 packs in hand with a bag with two bottles, and five cans hanging from his mouth. A hand quickly grabbed that one before it could fall, Charanko nodded his thanks, quickly heading to the sleeping quarters, hearing the door shut behind him.

Garou joined him a few minutes later, using his mouth to pick a sliver of wood out of his hand. God damn his hands, Charanko hated them and liked them at the same time. They were nice hands, but being beaten by them plenty of times made him loathe them.

Charanko looked away and opened one of the boxes, quickly opening a can of not-so-cheap beer and taking a swig as he handed Garou one, hearing it open.

Like things used to be, Charanko tried to turn it into a challenge of beer chugging. Garou seemed to be in the challenging mood as well, since he didn't let off either.

For a few minutes it went like that, them seeing how quickly and how many beers they could chug first. The empty cans being thrown into the now empty bag.

Of course Garou was winning.

Like usual.

Charanko coughed on his 9th, taking the can from his mouth and just letting the coughing fit go on. He was surprised to feel a hand on his shoulder, which he tried to wave off, but it didn't budge.

"Wrong tube," He croaked.

"Maybe we should just drink," Garou suggested, moving his hand when the coughing fit was over and just casually started drinking. Charanko nodded in agreement and followed suit.

So that's what they did, was just drink normally in silence, Garou tapping lightly on his can, looking down, thinking.

"What'cha thinkin about?" Garou looked up at him. Charanko would've found his expression cute, his face was flushed from the alchohol, features relaxed as they could be, hell even that scar on his face made him look cute.

Charanko quickly looked away and chugged the rest of his beer, grabbing another, trying to keep his thoughts away. They sat in awkward silence for a few more minutes, before Garou stood up, placing his empty can in the bag.

"I gotta piss," he commented, heading out of the room, a little unsteadiness to his walk, making Charanko look at how many cans the blonde had drank.

"Holy shit, I should let him off a bit," he muttered, looking at the twenty empty cans. He quickly looked up when he heard a thud, hurrying to his feet to investigate the sound. Only to find Garou leaning against the wall. "You okay?" He was expecting an 'im fine' not a hand reaching out to him, which he took and grabbed a hold, soon sliding up to his arm.

Oh damn.

He knew Garou was well muscled, but damn, seeing and feeling are two completely different experiences.

Charanko helped Garou sit down, sitting a bit closer to him than last time, grabbing the last sake bottle, and taking a drink, handing it over to Garou. At least this way he could control how much he drank. That is if he drank more of it. Sure enough it worked, and Charanko ended up finishing the bottle with a big swig.

He tensed when he felt a weight on his shoulder, looking down to see a very wasted Garou resting his head, eyes tightly shut.

"You okay? Need a bucket?" He asked, not wanting to be puked on. Though as great as a blackmail it could be, he was more worried. Garou sluggishly waved his offer away, shoving his face more into Charanko's shoulder, tips of his ears burning red. "You sure? I can quickly get you one,"

"I'll be fine," Garou mumbled. Charanko hummed, grabbing his phone from his pocket to check the time, hoping it was a late enough to get Garou to his futon before falling asleep on him. "y'know" Charanko looked away from his phone, looking at the white fluff on his shoulder. "You're not that bad,"

"You're just drunk," Garou lifted his hand in a shushing motion.

"Le'me finish," Charanko rolled his eyes, but waited. "I hated you. Yeah. But now. Now your not bad," he grabbed Garou's hand from moving, hearing him mumble something incoherent.

"You done or you got more to say?"

"You're cute. Okay," Charanko shrugged Garou's head off, looking at him.

"Next time remind me not to let you drink as much," Garou's eyes narrowed.

"I'm serious," Charanko rolled his eyes. "I think I like you," Garou let of a quiet 'oh' as he almost fell. "A lot,"

"You are really fucking drunk,"

"I-"

"Nope. Bed time," Garou pouted at him as he took up, hand out stretched. "c'mon" The blonde sighed and grabbed it, being helped up to his feet and walked over to his futon. He dropped ungraceful into it, arm over his closed eyes. Charanko didn't bother with the covers, quickly leaving to grab a bucket and placed it right beside Garou's head, quickly heading to his own futon fpr the night.

The next day Charanko was waken up by Bang, who wasn't even trying to wake him up. Garou was still passed out, his futon a complete mess, Bang proding him with a damn cane.

"How much did you two drink," he muttered, looking at Charanko. "Try to drag him off the futon at least," Charanko nodded, getting up and quickly needing to lean against the wall, when he felt stable enough he did as he was told.

Bang returned with a bucket of cold water, dumping it over Garou, who quickly woke up, groaning as he placed his head in his hands.

"Change and meet me outside," Bang ordered, leaving the two alone.

"He didn't seem happy," Charanko commented, gaining a sharp look from Garou. "And you look like shit," He grinned when Garou flipped him off.

Bang simply scolded them, surprisingly only for the mess they've made last night. Demon Cyborg and Caped Baldy where there, the later helping occasionally to keep Garou standing, who looked like he was about to pass out. Like a sleepy kitten. Bang ended up having him off, going to talk to Garou alone.

"How much did he drink?" Caped Baldy asked, helping Charanko set up the table. "We could hear Bang all the way out there,"

"From my scans it showed he shouldn't have more than 6," Demon Cyborg stated. "Though my scans also say the same for you sensei," Caped Baldy shrugged, but looked back at Charanko.

"So?" He sighed.

"He had twenty and lil bit of one of the bottles. Tried to drink most of that though," He told. "I didn't realize how much he had until he left real quick,"

"Damn," They went quiet when the door opened, Bang walking in, a hand under Garou's arm, who's hand was covering his forehead.

"Sit," Bang ordered, Garou doing as he was told. The elder left briefly, returning with a cup of tea, handing it to the blonde.

During breakfast, Charanko couldn't really focus on what Bang and his friend talked about. His mind kept going to the drunken confession from last night. He was sure with how Garou acted he didn't remember a thing, but whenever he saw Charanko staring he'd quickly look away, pale face taking a pink tint.

"Hey," Charanko said, hoping that theyd ignore him like usual. Garou looked up at him, and luckily the rest didn't notice. "Where you serious? Or was that the beer talking?"

"Does it matter?" Garou replied.

"Kind of," Charanko crossed his arms, waiting. He never did get an answer. Not until night time at least.

He found his futon fairly close to Garou's, the blonde already alseep and huddled into his comforter. Charanko smiled, crawling underneath his own, grabbing an uncovered hand. He opened his eyes when he felt them twitch, gold eyes perring from under the comforter.

"Too much?" He asked. Garou shook his head, closing his eyes again. Humming when Charanko gave a peck to his forehead. "Love ya too,"

[sunnysidewrites]

Flower Boy!Jeonghan

Requested by anon: Flower boy Jeonghan!!  

HEY HEY HEY GUESS WHO FINALLY PICKED UP THE SLACK AND WROTE THIS AFTER AN ENTIRE WEEK OF PROMISING TO :))) I’m so sorry yall this was supposed to be part of Jeonghan’s bday present but rip!!! THANKS TO @kakaotaeks FOR HELPING ME OUT WITH THIS!! who knows where this would be if i didn’t use the flower boy cafe au yIKES!! happy belated bday my angel + devil!! happy reading my children!!!

warnings: i still have 1 last super angsty piece for jeonghan, so i tried to make this p fluffy :))) and who knows when i’ll even finish that piece so :))) hang on tight to this fluff while you can! and also jeonghan is a cheesy goofball who’s bad at literature

This was originally gonna be Florist!Jeonghan but thank the heavens y’all don’t have to read the lame idea I had before elena came up w this

Shoutout to my b!!!

BASED ON OURAN KISS KISS FALL IN LUV

tHIS IS SO CUTE OK OK LETS GET 2 WORK

You’re in your usual literature class lecture hall and you’re sitting a few rows behind,,,,

The one and only, Yoon Jeonghan

Campus heartthrob

With looks like that though??? Can scREW ME UP

You’re staring at the back of his fluffy blonde locks as he studiously scribbles down his notes in his beaten torn notebook

Every time you try to refocus on the professor, your eyes just drift back to his short hair that looks a little too tempting to run your fingers through

By the time you prep yourself to focus on taking notes for the twentieth time that hour, everyone is packing their things and you’re like n OO OO NOT AGAIN

“Let me guess: Jeonghan?” Your friend nonchalantly brings up as they’re stuffing their folder in their bag

You sigh and get up to pack your things along

“I don’t even know why he’s so distracting… just something about him”

They’re shaking their head and smile knowingly bc it’s just so damn oBV I O US WHY

“You know that hot cafe that just opened everyone’s been raving about?”

“The Diamond? What about it?”

They smile even wider and are like, “do you know who got a job as a cute waiter?”

“,,,,,,,,,,,,What are you trying to say”

“Maybe you can finally get that number you’re always babbling about?”

And you’re like oh my god pl S STop but you’re right tho :/

You finally have some time off from your schedule to swing by the cafe down a few blocks from your dorm

You’re out on a lovely Saturday morning stroll and the strong scent of coffee beans wafts out into the streets

The cafe has only been open for an hour but there’s already a huge line

And if it weren’t for your curiosity, you would have just been like Gotta Go Fast

But you figured you would do yourself a favor and begrudgingly hold it out in the line that extends to almost the end of the street

Think of this as a cafe version of Ouran!!

Except add 7 more (excluding haruhi bc you take the protagonist’s place)

The cafe is so full that it makes you wait for the servers to take you to a table like in restaurants so it’s THAT big

No matter what time of day it is, it’s always co m ple te l y paCKED

8am when it just opens? Looks like a concert venue

Half an hour until closing time? All the tables are entirely occupied

It’s predominantly females but evEN GUYS SWOON i mean who wouldn’t tho???? When you have 13 pieces of f I N E????

Anyways when you finally reach the front of the line after 38 years, you’re like finALLY MY LEGS :((

And the bubbly little host is dressed in actual 5-star restaurant attire and he’s looking back at you like :DDDDD!!!!!!!!!! And you’re like :ooooo!!!!! :DDDDD!!!! What a cutie pie!!!!!!!

“Hello, and welcome to The Diamond! I’m Chan, your host, and I’ll be your go-to if your main server is unavailable! We’re currently waiting for a table to open up, so please be patient!” he perfectly recites and you’re just like clutching your heart bc of hoW CUTE HE IS!!!

Around 10 minutes pass and he’s notified that a table has been opened and you’re like okay,,,, this is it. This is where My Life Changes

He leads you to a cute little corner that gives you a nice little window view of the bustling streets

He gives you a menu once you’re seated and he’s like, “Okay, this is where I take off!!! Your main server will be with you shortly! If you need anything, just tap on this little bell!”

As he scurries away you’re just like :(((( why can’t you be my waiter flfjdldfskj wait I’m here for Jeonghan!!

You’re browsing through the menu and you’re appreciating all the aesthetics from the tableware to the graphics on the menu

You hear how the other waiters interact with their supporters customers as you’re waiting for yours and you could have sworn you heard Jeonghan’s name floating around

“What’s the special for today?”

“It’s the double chocolate cheesecake, honey~~”

*SCREAMS* me 2

His favorite pet name to call his supporters customers is “honey” uM IM WEAK B YE

And people seem to be ordering devil’s food cake a lot what a coincidence lmAO

A few minutes pass and you feel a presence nearing you and you casually brush it off as just a waiter passing by but oh boy!!!

“Hi honey~ What can I get you for today -- wait, Y/N?”

You’re about to chOKE ON YOUR SPIT

You look up from the desserts page and see the face that you’ve been mustering up the courage to talk to for months

“J-Jeonghan! I didn’t know you worked here!” the classic sentence starter

He lets out a small laugh in disbelief and you’re like aaaAAAA SO CUTE ST O P I T THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR MY HEART

“I haven’t seen you around here before. Is this your first time today?”

And you’re lowkey highkey blushing bc he,,,, noticed you?????

“Yeah,,,, it is,,,,,,, what do you recommend?”

He hums in thought and turns back to you, “We have the Devil’s food cake that seems to be really popular whenever I serve customers for some reason,” he chuckles and he grins that angelic yet mischievous smile

And you’re like huh :))) I :))) wonder :))) why :)))

You tell him you’ll try it out with a latte and give him the menu as he elegantly exits and leaves your heart painfully wanting to leap out of your chest

Some time passes and you’re taking in the decor and the view of the streets when he returns promptly with your food and drink

“Here you go, Y/N :)” he smiles and gently places the plates down in front of you

But honestly all you’re focusing on is how clOSE his face is when he did that

Do you imagine him to smell really nice?? Bc he probably smells like clean laundry and just fRESH AND SOFT AND--

Ahem

Little did you know his little fleeting glances at you to check your reaction of the mouthwatering sights in front of you!!!

Am i talking about the food or am I talking about Jeonghan always looking like a meal???? Guess we’ll never know

He nervously giggles and runs his fingers through his hair and you can’t help but to eye his movements bc,,,, those luscious locks,,,,

He’s like well!!! Try it!!! And you’re like ughsldgkdglh in front of you??? Right now????

He doesn’t seem to be budging anytime soon so you’re like rip ok guess so

You take your first bite and your eyes are about to bulge out of your sockets bc how in the name of the heavens can chocolate cake bE SO!!!!!!! GOOD!!!!!!! (spoiler alert: it is)

You’re looking back at him with widened eyes and a chocolate caked mouth as you’re mumbling,” ish sho gud!!”

And he’s like lmAO YOU’RE SO CUTE-- I mean,, yes,,, yes it is

And he gestures at your mouth and says “you have a little something uh,,,, everywhere LOL” and you’re like lsdjdfljd oh god i wanna dig up a hole and bury myself forever!!! And you hastily grab the napkin and wipe the chocolate crumbs off

And you two are so off in your own little world that both of you fail to notice the attention the other customers are directing towards you

Because Jeonghan nEVER, and I mean NE V ER, acts that naturally to a customer

It’s all a bunch of his favorite pet name, “honey,” and some winking tossed in his light flirting

But laughing? Having a really good time? Acting like friends? Joking? Not once!!!

And everyone is like Who Are You And Tell Me Your Secrets

He strikes up a conversation with you so easily and you’re so taken aback bc why would he be talking to an invisible soul like yours??? What’s happening with the world???

“Did you ever get the project turned in?”

And you’re really confused like,,,,, yes??? What???

And he sheepishly smiles, his ears a little red iM YODELING

“I just,,, overheard you worry about how much your partner was slacking off when you were talking to your friend that day,,,, that really sucks :(“

And you’re just like o H!!! Omg

“It’s all taken care of, don’t worry!!! At least i hope so,” you mutter

And you can feel his hesitance and you’re like ???? what is it??

“Maybe you need a new partner for a change? Our professor mentioned our next project can have us choose our own partners,,,, and you seem to be really good at this class,,,,,”

And you wanna laUGH bc you’re literally just there to stare at the back of his head

But he’s like you always know the answers whenever she calls on you????

“It doesn’t take a genius to know what the types of irony are, Jeonghan”

“hEY IM TRYING MY BEST THAT’S WHAT MY NOTES ARE FOR”

And you’re like,,,, do you need a tutor???

He lights up and his cheeks are stained a light pink aND IM CRYING IN THE CLUB

“yES! I mean, yes. Yes. Please. Here, I’ll give you my number”

What you feel: IM SCREAMING INTO THE ABYSS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I JUST GOT YOON JEONGHAN’S NUMBER, AN ACTUAL ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What you say: Oh, sure!

You both do a number exchange and literally everyone in that cafe is just on the floor like hOW DID YOU????? WH A T????

And Chan calls him and he not-so-subtly hints about how he’s been talking to you for way too long and everyone in line is complaining LOL

He regretfully looks at you and you nod sadly in understanding

“I’ll catch you later this week,” you say and he’s about to turn around when he stops and turns back

“Are we meeting for a study da-- sESSION?”

And you’re like what did you say--

“I said study session”

“.....I’m free Saturday”

“I’ll meet you at the library,” he gives you one last grin before winking and walking away and you’re like eXCUSE ME WHAT DOES THAT MEAN SIR

You shake your head but you can’t suppress the gigantic smile that your lips involuntarily make

You take the mug in your hands and you notice the latte art is a picture of a heart

You’re like scREAMING BC ITS SO CHEESY BUT YOU LIKE IT

And now you finally have a reason to pay attention in your literature class if you gotta tutor a potential college bf in your study da--session!!!!

[monotonemanday]

Star Crossed Entertainers - Part 3 Zen x OC

Enter Lovely Zen and another OC! More cute and less angst! But don’t you worry. The Angst will be back! PS. I was about 5 pages in and I got kicked out of my work and wasn’t backing it up to anything. So Lord help me, I screamed and did my best to get it back from memory because I was so happy with what I had. It’s past 10:30pm as I start over and I have to work 6am to 7:30 pm. RIP me.

“Did you hear me?!”

Yes. No. Well not really.

She was busy. Texting. Not only was she texting but she was texting a boy. Besides she didn’t need to hear exactly what was being said to know she was getting safety instructions yelled at her.

“Yeeessss! I’m ignoring you! I’ll do whatever I want. Don’t forget to bring back a husband tonight, Cinderella!”

She was the ultimate button pusher and she could practically hear her roommates eye balls hit the floor from rolling out of her skull.

Bzzzzzztt ~ Him? No. Group text.

“Hey, Kaeli! We’ll be outside your apartment in 10!”

“Ok! Thanks again for the ride! Shouldn’t be a problem after today.”

“Did anyone bring extra ballet flats I forgot mine?“

“You’re always forget-” Enough of that. Kaeli closed the group chat.

10 minutes. She didn’t want to get a ride from these girls, she barely knew them. But her options were limited. She got off the couch and made her way down the hallway to her bedroom. Clothes. Everywhere. Mountains. Did she have carpet or hardwood floors? She couldn't remember. It had been so long since she’d seen it. Eh, screw it. The roommate had done laundry so there was bound to be something clean on the dryer. She turned her back on her tornado of a room and went back down the hallway stopping to take a quick peak in the other bedroom. Spotless. Classic roommate. It looked like an Ikea show room.

She made her way past the kitchen, past the lounge, past the guest bath and to the laundry room. Folded stacks of laundry. She had done none of it. She grabs and goes. She throws her tank top god knows where. She’ll pick it up later. She won’t. She slips on the plain white tee she grabbed. It fit her perfectly. Clung to her just right. Not too tight and not too baggy. However she pulled at the collar. T-shirt collars were always too tight. That’s what happens when you have a larger chest region. Next the hoodie. It was chilly and she could always take it off if she warmed up during practice. She was already wearing black leggings so no need to change pants. She slipped the hoodie on over her head with ease. Too much ease. She couldn’t find her way out of it. Help. It’s dark in here. She finally popped her head out of the proper hole and walked to the full length mirror by the front door. What was going on?

Welp. Definitely not her hoodie. She was drowning in it. She stood on her tip toes, crossed her arms and made the grumpiest expression she could. “Did you hear me?!” She yelled in a very mocking tone. “Hahahaha I sounded just like Sammy!” She was too much. She was practically cackling at the impression of her roommate. She began to climb her way out of the hoodie. It was like making her way through the amazon. But hey that's what you get when someone is an outstanding 6 foot tall and you yourself are an impressive 4 foot 11 inches.

BEEP BEEP!

Crap they’re here. Kaeli zipped through the apartment, grabbing her own pink hoodie, her cellphone and her bag she hadn’t unpacked from last practice. She walks out the door and beings to put the key in the knob to lock up. Wait. She rummages through her bag. Nice. A full water bottle complete with lots of ice. She definitely didn’t put it there. Thanks Sammy. She locked the door and hurried down the four lfights of stairs to the lobby. Once outside she saw the car with three other passengers waving at her. Ugh. She waved back and checked her phone. Still no text from him. She gets in the passenger seat and says hello to the other girls in the car. She pulls her seatbelt across her body and is en route to rehearsal. All the way listening to the most obnoxious singing along to pop songs she had ever heard. 8 minutes later they arrived and she hadn’t thrown herself out of the car. Proud of you, Kaeli.

That time already?! Time to get going. No more distractions. Down on the ground, toes planted, hands placed the perfect width apart. In front of the mirror, he looked up and was met with the most beautiful crimson eyes. Wow, whose are those? Oh, Mine. Zen gave himself a wink. Aright, push up time. It had to be. He was already shirtless but he wasn’t glistening. Problem. 35 would do it. Can’t get too swoll before rehearsal. Standing up and stretching his arms above his head, Zen made his way to his dresser. What to wear? He rummaged through his third drawer and pulled out a pair of black jogger sweats. They were loose at the thighs but you could still tell he was toned and they were tight at the ankles. That went well with his white high top converse. A shirt. As much as he didn’t want to cover up his sculpted bod he couldn’t have all the girls at rehearsal going rabid. He settled on a sleeveless hoodie. Grey. He had to show off his biceps. After all he had just got done pumping more iron in them.

Making his way to the bathroom he grabbed his tooth brush and began with up and down brushing. Quick. Then small circles. Brisk. He bit down on the toothbrush and held it in his mouth. He needed his hands. He took the hair tie off of his wrist and tied back his long white hair. Then he grabbed a hair tie off the counter and replaced the one he had just taken off his wrist. Gotta be stocked up. He finished brushing and spit out. Looking at the clock on the wall he realized he was 10 minutes late. No walking today, have to take the bike. Putting his phone in his pocket he grabbed his bike helmet and tucked it under his left arm and swung his backpack over his right shoulder. 

Outside he locked his door and made his way to his bike. He fixed the straps of his back pack on both shoulders and slipped his helmet on. He took his phone out. Time to grab some fish shaped buns? No. Damn, she probably would have liked one. Shit. He unlocked his phone and typed out a text. “Hey man, sorry again that I can’t make it tonight. Hope it’s a blast.” Sent. Jumin Han. He tosses his right leg over his bike, and like a bat out of hell he’s off to the theatre.

The theatre was filled with chatter. No one was getting ready to do anything that resembled rehearsing. Their extremely sarcastic and very loud stage manager wasn’t there to rally the troops. They liked her. She was a hard ass and she was fun and made practice entertaining. But She could really crack the whip. The assistant stage manager would be running rehearsal. Lee. Poor guy. Lee couldn’t get a fish to drink water. Kaeli saw the frazzled assistant in the wings of the stage. It’s not that he wasn’t a good manager. He was actually quite efficient! He just was not commanding and couldn’t gain any respect whatsoever. It was frustrating but what could be done. The stage manager was getting hot corporate booty their rent money. Kaeli sat next to her bag at the edge of the stage. One leg hanging down and the other bent toward her chest as she double knotted the laces on her sneaker. She resigned herself to studying her script while trying to block at all the chatter. Which for some reason, was getting much louder. Enter the white knight.

“Hey, Lee! Sorry I’m late! I don’t see Sam. Just you tonight, guy?”

“Zen! Don’t worry about it. You’re our leading man! Yeah, Sam won’t be here tonight. I’m running rehearsal. Well, I’m trying too...” Poor dude. Zen had never seen someone look so defeated. Well except for when Yoosung was telling that story about how he tried to ask out that girl but there was a mix up and she went out with one of his LOLOL buddies instead.

Zen gave Lee a pat on the back. “Don’t worry, let me get settled in and then I’ll help you get up and running.” So no Sam but did that mean? No, she said she’d be here. Scanning, scanning, scanning. Bingo. The two girls had just joined the theatre company a couple of months ago. He really liked Sam. She was funny and tough. He didn’t know a whole lot about her but they became quick pals. Then there was Kaeli. He stared down the stage at her. Her blonde hair hung in front of her face as she stared at the script in her lap. Her hair just made it past her shoulders. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and she was swinging them back and forth. Swoon. She was tiny like a pixie and had the right curves to compliment her small body. Zen always played the leading man but Kaeli never played the leading lady. She was type cast because of her size and her looks. Children, fairies, small animals, little old ladies. He would kill for a chance to be in a romance scene with her. Peter Pan? No. Peter gets down with Wendy not Tinker Bell. Thumbelina? Perfect! Wait, no. I’d have to be just as tiny as her.

“Zen!” He had been caught. He snapped back to reality and saw Kaeli waving at him like an excited puppy. Her bright blue eyes sparkled and popped against her porcelain skin. She smiled from ear to ear which really brought out the dimples on her cheeks. Release the beast.

Kaeli stood up and made her way toward Zen and his feet started to move on his own accord. They met center stage.

“Hey, cutie! Sorry I didn’t text you back. I was running late!”

“Oh don’t worry. I wasn’t hurt too bad.” She stuck out her bottom lip to pout and stared up at him with big round puppy dog eyes. It quickly turned into a cheeky wink and a smirk passed her lips.

Stop. That. You minx.

“I could never hurt you, Kay! It would be like plucking the wings off of a pixie.” Nice, Zen.

No. Not nice. Kaeli hated when people solely focused on her size. Her whole life was just one big “...Yeah! I get it!” But when Zen commented on it, well mama don’t know how to act. Climb him like a ladder.

The pair was staring at each other, giggling and smiling ear to ear. Then she felt it. The heat of every set of eyes that belonged to a female cast member. She tensed up. Her eyes shot to the floor, she held her hands behind her back and she kicked the floor back and forth. Normally she didn’t care about jealous bitches girls but zen had a career and a reputation. Plus she didn’t want to be hated by any potential “friends” that were in the cast. She had to work here after all. She cleared her throat and Zen understood.

“Well, since Sam’s not here I better go help Lee before he gets steam rolled.” Zen had his arm behind him shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Let’s practice hard tonight, Yeah?”

Kaeli nodded and smiled at the gorgeous musical actor. As he turned and walked away she sighed. No one would have even cared or noticed that she was talking to him if Sammy was here keeping them busy.

Zen had helped Lee kick off practice and they were running through act one of the show. Zen was sitting next to Lee and the director off stage and his eyes kept falling on Kaeli. She was so focused and her movements were beautiful but hey wait. She seemed really uncomfortable. Oh. There was a quick break while the dance captain was going over some problem areas and Zen made his way on stage. He walked up to the small blonde and took his hair tie off of his wrist. He handed it to her.

“You know I’m sure your golden locks of hair would be beautiful blowing in the wind but I don’t think they are doing you a lot of good, flying around while your dancing.” Smooth Operator.

Kaeli took the hair tie and begin to put her hair up in a messy bun. “Don’t think your words got to me Casanova.” She laid her hand on his bicep. “I just really need this hair tie if I’m going to put out the same effort as you tonight.”

After that the game was afoot. Both the leading man and the chorus girl were putting forth maximum effort all the while making silly gestures and goofy faces at each other from wherever they were on stage. Giggling, winking, booty shaking. A couple of goobers. 

Everyone stopped for a quick break and Kaeli took her sweatshirt off. She had definitely warmed up. Zen does a body good. As she was taking a lap around the stage she noticed that some of the male cast members were staring at her, whispering and making lude gestures. She looked down. Shit. Her bra was bright pink and could be seen 100% through her t-shirt.

Zen heard the commotion and immediately grasped the situation. Wolves. Before Kaeli could even make her way to her hoodie it appeared in front of her eyes. There was Zen, again acting as a white knight. She put her hoodie on and the men boo’d Zen for ruining their show. It put a damper on the rest of the rehearsal.

Once practice was over Kaeli gathered her things and noticed the theatre was more empty than she would have liked for it to be. Those dumb asses. They forgot they were giving her a ride home as well.

She flung her bag over her shoulder and started dragging her feet. She didn’t bring enough money for a cab. Sammy didn’t want her to and she didn’t want to either, but it looked like she was taking the bus. 

Nope. Not while Zen lived and breathed the same air is her. He thrust his motorcycle helmet toward her.

“Here little, lady. I’ll be taking you home.”

Kaeli didn’t argue. She followed Zen to his bike. He put the helmet on her head and adjusted the strap tight under her chin. The ride was silent but neither of them had ever felt so comfortable. When they arrived at Kaeli’s apartment building Zen helped her take the helmet off and lifted her off the bike. He set her down gently and turned to get back on his bike. 

“I guess I’ll see you next rehearsal, my little pixie.” He smiled. Oh god that smile.

“You definitely will. Oh and Zen? Do me a favor and don’t tell Sam that I went for a ride on your motorcycle.” The pair chuckled and Zen sped off shortly after. Kaeli made her way back up to the apartment.

Scrolling through her phone on the couch, hours had passed. It was way past midnight at this point but Kaeli couldn’t sleep. She heard the jingling of keys and someone unlocking the front door. Silence. Her roommate wasn’t calling out to see if she was awake or giving any of her usual charming greetings. Something was wrong. Kaeli see’s the look on Samantha’s face. She’s grumpy or sad. Or probably both. Best Friend powers activate.

“Cinderelly cinderellyyy!!! It’s past midnight! Did you dance with the prince? Are you missing a glass slipper? Let me see those big feet!”

Samantha laughed softly. “Shut up ya dingus.”

“Sammy I missed you at rehearsal today!”

“Oh yeah? How’d it go? How’d Lee do?”

Kaeli went on to tell Samantha all about rehersal, what they got done, what they had trouble with and how much fun she had with Zen.

She was just about to maybe bring up the fact that Zen brought her home on a death machine motorcycle when Samantha’s cell phone rang. Phew, good. But also, bad.

Samantha took the phone call in her bedroom and Kaeli waited patiently.

Samantha entered the room seeming as normal as ever. “Well I’m going to head to bed. I had a pretty long night. I love ya! Sleep in tomorrow. But hey, I’m gonna need you to keep low, hang out under the radar for a little bit okay?”

“Is something wrong?” Kaeli’s bright blue eyes met Samantha’s deep blue ones.

“Possibly. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

She always did.

[greenishbucket]

For Always

The wintery morning light is still so pale where it comes in through the window. Lardo can think of a million things they could do today alone, big and small and everything in between. 

1.6k, also on ao3

Lardo wakes up for about half a minute when Ford gets out of bed at a quarter past five to shower.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Ford says, a little husky from her own sleep, before Lardo has even got out her usual garbled oh shit dude it’s so fucking early why do you do this go back to sleep oh god.

“Mmmnuhgh,” Lardo says in reply, wriggling over to the warmth left behind where Ford had been and wrapping the blankets tighter around herself.

Ford bangs her toe against the bedside cabinet in the dark and swears loudly and efficiently, disembodied in the still dark room, and Lardo finds herself making some grossly fond face into the pillow. She just catches the beginnings of Ford’s almost-tuneful shower singing before the fact that it’s fucking five in the morning pulls her back into sleep.

Of course, once she’s been woken up once she’s not gonna be able to go back to sleep for long. Ford always makes sure to close the front door extra quiet like Lardo’s a baby she’s just got down to nap so Lardo usually misses her leaving but before long the neighbourhood wakes up and brings noise with it. When Lardo wakes up the second time, the apartment is still and cold and quiet, even for all the rumble of cars and people outside, and for a moment she feels kinda desolate.

It lasts for about a second. The side of the bed she’s migrated over to still smells like Ford’s products – and not enough like their detergent, she notes, so they’re probs going to need to change the sheets sometime soon – and it’s still early enough that she can feel the possibilities of the day stretching out before her. As much as Lardo likes to sleep in until the sun actually rises, she knows she always turns snappy and irritable when she wakes up way late to a day half gone.

Ford’s forgotten again to crack the window open to allow the shower steam out when Lardo makes it to the bathroom and the whole place, floor to walls to toilet seat, is slick with condensation. Lardo is going to make a sign and get it laminated and stick it somewhere Ford can’t miss, just so there’s more than a 20 percent chance they’ll get their deposit back if they ever want to move.

The air is shockingly cold when she pushes the stiff window open and Lardo wants to brush her teeth extra hard, plus mouthwash, and then take a deep breath in like she was a kid. When she does it sears her throat enough to make her eyes water, the mouthwash they have now a lot stronger than the for-kids version her mom had supervised her through using way back when.

She’s pretty sure the sweats and hoodie she pulls on after her own shower are both further down the line of should-this-go-in-laundry than she’d like to admit, but neither actively smell bad so Lardo figures she can stretch it out for today at least.

The kitchen is a lot colder than the humidity of the bathroom; they both forgot to pull the blinds down the night before. Again. Fuck knows what their neighbours have seen going on in their kitchen over the years.

Lardo’s just checking the apples in the fruit bowl through a series of pokes and squeezes when there’s the familiar scrabble-whine-clunk of the lock mechanism’s slow death – one day, they’re either gonna get locked out or locked in and everyone in their contacts is going to reply with nothing but a ‘told you so’, Lardo can sense it – and the sound of Ford throwing her embarrassing running fanny pack in the pile of bags.

She’s all glistening with sweat still when she comes in from the hall. Lardo appreciates most sport at a level of sorta to actual personal enjoyment, but her appreciation for Ford’s running is a heavy part aesthetic. Ford energised and keen and sporty in the still-early light in their kitchen strikes something emotional in Lardo’s chest, sure, because sometimes it’s still something to grasp that they’re really doing this, but as a concept it also falls pretty perfectly on the line between wow I wanna art her and wow I wanna make out with her. It’s a tricky balance but, in honesty, it plays a big part in how little Lardo complains about being woken up at bullshit hours three times a week, if the way Ford bounces on the balls of her feet when she talks about her running bros wasn’t enough.

“You’re up,” Ford says, pleased, like Lardo isn’t always up when she gets back, apart from the times where she only goes to sleep a little before Ford leaves.

Ford smells strongly of sweat when she leans in to fill her water bottle up in the sink and kisses Lardo on the cheek, but at least it’s the fresh and clean kind and not the stale and embedded kind that both of them swear they still catch a whiff of sometimes, hockey-kit free though their apartment may be. Lardo would try and pull Ford in for a for real kiss, because energised and keen and sporty and hot, but she’d just taken a bite of the least squishy apple and now juice is running all down her chin where Ford jostled her.

Ford wipes at the juice with her thumb for her, amused and apologetic, and says, “I’m going to shower and then we should eat.”

Lardo holds up her apple.

“Actual breakfast, I’m starving,” Ford clarifies. “Plus those apples are all mushy and grainy, I meant to cut them up for the birds the other day.”

Lardo shrugs; the apple tastes a little weird, but not too bad.

Ford’s singing isn’t as audible from the kitchen, but Lardo lets the hum of the pipes keep her company instead as she tries to piece together something filling from the remains of their grocery trip two and a bit weeks ago. It’s been a busy period, both of them in and out of the house at all kinda hours and too exhausted to do much but curl up on the couch in shared peace and quiet each evening, and groceries have fallen to the wayside pretty badly.

Breakfast manages to be toast: a savoury slice each with tomato-y paste and one slice of chicken on it for Lardo and two chicken slices for Ford because protein, and a dessert slice each with the last scraps of an apricot jam from Bitty spread as evenly as Lardo can. She puts some cereal bars by Ford’s plate to make up for it, and fills two mugs with the only herbal tea they can both agree on, feeling a mix of pride and warm, comfortable familiarity when she sets the mugs down not thirty seconds before Ford comes back from the shower.

“We need to get some groceries, huh?” she says, taking a seat and a bite of the savoury toast enthusiastically enough all the same.

“We’re all out of cereal, fruit, most vegetables, juice, almost all the bread and the milk,” Lardo confirms. “And we have a fuck load of rice but about a handful of pasta.”

“What about pancakes?” Ford asks. “We have the ingredients for those, don’t we?”

Lardo could spot the sneaky teasing look in Ford’s eye a mile off. “So it’s gotta be pancakes now? Stale chicken tomato apricot toast isn’t good enough?”

“Hey, I ran so much today already. Like, all the runs.”

“Out of your own choice,” Lardo reminds her. “You could’ve slept in with me. I can think of some fitness stuff we coulda done instead.”

Ford kicks Lardo under the table, leaves her bare ankle against Lardo’s after. “You don’t know the shame of the ‘we missed you!’ wall. I deserve pancakes and sex just for the exhaustion of having that hanging over me.”

“If you wanted pancakes and sex you shouldn’t have signed up for a running club that starts at the asscrack of dawn,” Lardo says, mock-sniffy as she can be around a mouthful of toast. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood anymore.”

Ford sighs and says, forlorn, “Where did the romance go, all that spark. They’re right, it all dries up in the end,” but her ankle is still pressed against Lardo’s and the corner of her mouth is turned up slyly, mutedly, like she can’t help it. When Lardo makes an unimpressed face at her, the smile emerges for real, her cheeks all bunched up like in the photos Ford’s mom insists on pulling out whenever they visit.

The wintery morning light is still so pale where it comes in through the window. Lardo can think of a million things they could do today alone, big and small and everything in between.

“Let’s go grocery shopping, and then we can buy something with a fuck load of sugar and split it after we have sex but before we have to get back to, like, actually doing shit,” Lardo says, the day unfolding in her mind. “How’s that for romance?”

“Be still my beating heart,” Ford says, dry, and steals the crusts of Lardo’s toast that she was gonna get to in a minute.

There’s a moment, then, where Lardo remembers time ago would have been the moment they would have shared an I love you, back when saying the words still had a sickening, jittery, breathless rush. It passes. They don’t need to, now; Lardo knows it like a bedrock truth.

Ford huffs a laugh to herself as she scrolls through her phone, mugs still half-full of still steaming tea between them on the table, and Lardo sketches out in her mind the laminated bathroom sign she’s gonna make so Ford remembers to open the damn window. She can already hear the way Ford will laugh, bright and caught out, and march back out to Lardo with the offending sign in hand, probs wrapped in the same ugly multicolored towel she’s had since undergrad, like a certainty.

[therappundit]

*Top 5 Rap Verses Of 2017*

I’m still in 2017 (w)rap-up mode, because so much damn good music dropped in 2017 and there is still plenty to dissect!  But how does anyone manage to parse through a years worth of lyrics to pick the cream of the crop? The answer is simple: it’s not possible. The definition of “best” will change with time, enivornment, and even how the listener is feeling moment to moment.

But with any art form, it should be expected that personal feelings are a deciding factor.  So for my list of the best rap verses of 2017, I considered the strength of the lyricism, the message, originality, the rapper’s ability to edit him/herself to achieve max tightness across the whole verse, the execution of the overall theme, persuasiveness of the artist, the quality of the full song, and of course, how I personally connected with the words of each artist.

These are just some of the verses that stayed with me the longest, but please feel free to share any others that blew you away. And if you missed any of these when they first dropped, please press rewind and enjoy my picks for the Top 5 Rap Verses of 2017...

5. “Gunsense” verse 1 - Roc Marciano, Rosebudd’s Revenge

Roc Marciano gets away with “rappity rap” verses (staying with one rhyme pattern over the course of the whole verse, almost like a freestyle technique) because he’s a truly gifted writer. Every bar matters, and every word feels deliberately selected, he knows exactly how to execute. For that reason, Roc Marci’s verses tend to shine on paper. Rosebudd’s Revenge is jam-packed with quotables, but this tough verse on “Gunsense” includes some lines that really pack some impact, with a high potential for longevity (lets just hope Roc continues to get the credit for those rhymes)....

“Since a snot nose We chopped Os Popped Roscoes Left one lock like Shakka Amose Diamond collar bone Swerve pot holes Cop clothes like niggas murdered in Chicago Miami Beach Polyamory Free financially You should see the body on my spanish bitch Motherfucker this is art You can't just pick this apart This not a hobby, this is therapy Nigga we run this You a fucking fungus I'm just having fun with this I live in comfort We don't pump fake The pump ain't fake, I came to dump it Still run with the same niggas I came up with Bust guns with rubber grips Bitch, whatever it is Just get it off your chest like a breast reduction Yeah I'm back on my back of tricks I fucked hip hop, I had to dead the bedwench I've been better ever since You still woulda thought you had better sense Niggas ain't got no self respect You can fuck with that but that ain't this though That wax shit disco, I dismiss hoes Bout to cop the Rolls with no tints, fish bowl French toast then go hit up Sak's Fifth for trench coats Sink your boat Your body wash up somewhere in Glen Cove I was always told to push the envelope It had blow in it though Look what the wind blew in, in Kenneth Coles Quick, pull a lick like a pick n' roll The give and go, some nights alone, run the iso I'm not a racist, dipped Jesus face in white gold I know I know That's not the Messiah's nose, he had wide nostrils”

4. “C. Delores” verse 1 - Royce Da 5′9″, The Bar Exam 4

As long as Royce is rhymin’, he’s going to make his presence felt on this list. By now, the Detroit legend’s proficiency with the pen is so well documented that he’s only chasing “all-time” status. As with previous years, Nickel Nine contributed a plethora of great work to sift through, but this verse on “C. Delores” is a great example of Royce’s ability to drop bars and share personal perspective.

“We started off as targets We had the Congress mad at the whole genre Tryna get rid of us Now it's like we not even trying to be good It's like we just sitting ducks in the eyes of evil I open windows with hopes that the wind blows you ten mo' blessings Set my Timbo's next to my dresser with the Nintendo, and yes The extendo's on the AK 47 and it's wrapped in the dresses of En-Vogue It's time, it's time to move something I guess we missed our window to try to prove something Spot a whack producer from across the room Walk up to him, smack his hookah across the moon Break a platinum plaque over a rapper back Go and toss that bitch into a dark lagoon Go into the heart of the art form with a harpoon They ain't skilled enough to stand the field with us You gon' have to retire me It's only like four or five of you rappers who can actually inspire me I be out here telling the truth I should sign my autograph with a polygraph I move in silence Tryna get to you 'fore you could brace yourself Cause I'm tryna put yo' ass in a body cast Y'all niggas lollygag, not me This evening I'm with the biggest spenders having the most prestigious dinner You eating Church's Chicken with suspicious fictitious sinners I'm a living legend, you a fidget spinner I'm getting cheddar, they tryna catch up to my past M's And I'm getting better quicker, tryna catch up and pass Em' I be blacking out, you could ask them Everything I spit be sick, gag phlegm Everything I wear be tailor-made to fit, Giraffe trim Huh, it seem like everybody out here right now wanna be 'Pac While I'm zoning, stirring the pot I'm 'bout to go so motherfucking Lamont Coleman This 'bout to be disturbing to watch While I'm out here swerving the drop Your favorite rapper 'bout to get cleaned up, served in a box Like laundry detergent, pushing 'round these birds with a mop Tryna stay in a genius, creative state of mind Tryna stay sharper than straight sharks in a 'gator pond Grate her down, all for the greater good and the greater grind While they denying now, all these heathens be crying 'bout Taking care of two, three dudes but these people be lying We keeping it G, we keeping the iron out They feed negativity, we eating vagina while Keeping it Zion, we turning the streets of Detroit to a D zoo Eating while we feed people to lions The dude that I brought with me psycho and schizo He think that he Luke, he like to lift you and make you skywalk You don't wanna play with none of his make-believe truth They'll make the iron speak too He'll do the R2D2 to your heart Until it's parts of a easel Threw a piece of your heart in a jar for the people To dissect at Juilliard I'm the best at who we are, that's fucking food for thought Nobody else been thinking like me thus far though Subpar cerebrals”

3. “Smile” verse 3 - JAY-Z, 4:44

Most of us didn’t think Shawn Carter had enough left in the tank to scrap with the best in the game today. But on 4:44, Hov continued to pad his legacy with great songs and memorable lyrics. With “Smile”, after already dropping personal gems on the first half of the song (most famously a reference to his mother coming out of the closet), Jigga closes things out with arguably his strongest verse in yeeeeeeaaaars....

“I mastered my aesthetics I know you often heard me wax poetic 'bout bein' back in the Lexus But trust me, that was nothin' a nigga up in The hundreds of millions, I have no ceilings, ah, this that feelin' I'm that boy Anita Baker's "You Bring Me Joy" slappin' out of the toy The separation is clear in my rear-view mirror Objects is further than they appear Oh yeah, I was born with a pair, playin' for high stakes Norman's Cay, he looked up and out of the Lear How niggas can't relate? Fuck a slice of the apple pie, want my own cake In charge of my own fate, respect Jimmy Iovine But he gotta respect the Elohim as a whole new regime And niggas playin' for power, huh So our music is ours, niggas own their own houses Ours was, "Fuck you, pay me" now it's, "Fuck payin' me, I pay you Put the rest away for Blue" That blood money I giggle at it, can't even support my miss' habit Jewelry shoppin' in Pa- all ya jewelers should be embarrassed Huh, blood diamonds drippin' with guilt, I still ain't trippin' That's life, winners and losers Drug dealers and abusers, America likes me ruthless My therapist said I relapsed I said, "Pre-haps I Freudian slipped in European whips" God sent me to break the chain, I'm the true and livin' God in the flesh, the rest of these niggas is vain A stain on the white suit, inferior IQ Niggas'll rip your shit off TIDAL just to spite you Ahhhh, what did I do? 'Cept try to free you Niggas'll love you but hate you 'cause they can't be you Dump 'em all in the bayou, uh Everybody wave bye to the guy you thought you could lie to This was meant to be a haiku, huh But my story's too wide to fit inside the line or two Oh, these that drugs, heron flow, I spaz on the stove This is Hov, no flex zone, nigga, who lied to you? Look, you a pedestrian, don't ever question the security I provided you Oh y'all thought I was washed? I'm at the cleaners Launderin' dirty money like the Teamsters, huh Shout out to Hoffa back home, he in the church When I heard you got booked, that shit hurt Fear for you, bro, we know the system don't work Take a young nigga freedom over some dirt Yet it's legal in Colorado, yeah, we deny Black entrepreneurs, free enterprise That's why it's a black market, that's why it's called the trap That's why it's called the projects 'cause it's exactly that All these people was gon' kill me, heh 'Cause the more I reveal me, the more they 'fraid of the real me Welcome back Carter, smile”

2. “JUNKY” - Kevin Abstract of Brockhampton, Saturation II

Brockhampton shouldn’t work. A collection of young talent thrown together to crank out multiple volumes of material in a short period of time? How can artists develop actual musical chemistry under those conditions? Well I don’t know, but they did. “JUNKY” was one of the standouts off of Saturation II, and Kevin Abstract’s opening verse was a major reason why. I don’t know if I have ever heard such an aggressively open verse from a budding homosexual rap star. Abstract’s words are sharp, freshly delivered, unforgettable and hopefully a turning point for a genre of music that, historically, has lagged behind on too many LGBT matters.  

“I spit my heart out, lookin' out for my best interests He gave me good head, peepin' out while the windows tinted I speak in tongues and I arrive without a damn mention It's kinda sick and I was born in 1996 and 1999 the only year that I remember I slip through the cracks without havin' a damn temper I bleach my hair because these bitches all about they bitchin' I say shit when I rap and y'all niggas barely listen I do the most for the culture, nigga, by just existing Delete my tweets 'cause I'm ashamed of being a fuckin' Simpson I told my mom I was gay, why the fuck she ain't listen? I signed a pub deal and her opinion fuckin' disappearin' I'm payin' bills for my sister and tryna fund her business Is it homophobic to only hook up with straight niggas? You know like closet niggas, masc-type Why don't you take that mask off? That's the thought I had last night "Why you always rap about bein' gay?" 'Cause not enough niggas rap and be gay Where I come from, niggas get called "faggot" and killed So I'ma get head from a nigga right here And they can come and cut my hand off and, and my legs off and And I'ma still be a boss 'til my head gone, yeah”

1. “FEAR” verse 3/4 - Kendrick Lamar, DAMN.

In my mind, “FEAR” was an obvious choice. Someday DAMN. may be regarded as a classic, but for now, it should at least be considered a special album. With the first two verses on “FEAR”, Kendrick breaks down the different shapes of anxiety that went through his mind at age 7, and then at age 17. Then he writes from his point of view at age 27, as a successful rap star. What we find is a problem that could not be solved by getting older, or making more money. What we find is that anxiety is a disease that cannot be simply crushed under the weight of any amount of monumental achievements, it only keeps changing shape. Kendrick Lamar shared his own fears on this song, and with that, he has penned an inspirational rap song about struggling with anxiety. I really related to that, and I hope others did as well.

“When I was 27, I grew accustomed to more fear Accumulated 10 times over throughout the years My newfound life made all of me magnified How many accolades do I need to block denial? The shock value of my success put bolts in me All this money, is God playin' a joke on me? Is it for the moment, and will he see me as Job? Take it from me and leave me worse than I was before? At 27, my biggest fear was losin' it all Scared to spend money, had me sleepin' from hall to hall Scared to go back to Section 8 with my mama stressin' 30 shows a month and I still won't buy me no Lexus What is an advisor? Somebody that's holdin' my checks Just to fuck me over and put my finances in debt? I read a case about Rihanna's accountant and wondered How did the Bad Girl feel when she looked at them numbers? The type of shit'll make me flip out and just kill somethin' Drill somethin', get ill and fill ratchets with a lil' somethin' I practiced runnin' from fear, guess I had some good luck At 27 years old, my biggest fear was bein' judged How they look at me reflect on myself, my family, my city What they say 'bout me reveal if my reputation would miss me What they see from me would trickle down generations in time What they hear from me would make 'em highlight my simplest lines I'm talkin' fear, fear of losin' creativity I'm talkin' fear, fear of missin' out on you and me I'm talkin' fear, fear of losin' loyalty from pride 'Cause my DNA won't let me involve in the light of God I'm talkin' fear, fear that my humbleness is gone I'm talkin' fear, fear that love ain't livin' here no more I'm talkin' fear, fear that it's wickedness or weakness Fear, whatever it is, both is distinctive Fear, what happens on Earth stays on Earth And I can't take these feelings with me, so hopefully they disperse Within fourteen tracks, carried out over wax Searchin' for resolutions until somebody get back Fear, what happens on Earth stays on Earth And I can't take these feelings with me, so hopefully they disperse Within fourteen tracks, carried out over wax Wonderin' if I'm livin' through fear or livin' through rap Damn”

*Honorable Mention*: “The Prestige” - Jean Grae, “Easter Gunday 2″ - Mach-Hommy, “Bullet Klub” - Benny, “Marksmen” - Ka, “Rivi” - Benny, “DNA” - Kendrick Lamar, “100,000 Machine Gunz” - Royce Da 5′9″, “4:44″ - JAY-Z, “Family Feud” - JAY-Z, “Black & Ugly” - Rapsody, “Free” - CyHi The Prynce, “Rick Boxes” - Conway

[rapmoniepapi]

His Killer Personality (Caution!)

Another collaboration but this time with my good friend @imunsavy (Follow her for part 2!)

Summary: A family orientated man by the name of Hoseok has had enough with the pests of his daily life so he decides to take matters into his own hands. Now, don’t be fooled by his personality, his temper is not something you should take lightly.

Warning!: Does contain blood, gore, killing of a family including a kid. Please just don’t read if you don’t handle horror or terror well. This is all make believe so please take it with a grain of salt.

“Alright baby, I’m off to work!” Hoseok said cheerfully, suit-ready and case in hand. 

“Bye honey!” You said to him as you kissed him on the cheek. 

“Bye dad!” The kids harmonized a farewell. 

Hoseok was well off. Window down, wind flowing through his hair. He waved to his neighbors and even to strangers. Everything seemed right with the world until, that is, some fucker cut him off and almost made him crash his vehicle. This didn’t make Hoseoks blood boil, oh no, the man who cut him off also decided to yell some profanities and Hoseok never stood for bad words. No bad words equals no bad kids and he didn’t want bad kids. Ironic really.

Hoseok followed the guy but not to the point to where he was visible. The man was on his way to an office building. “Yep everything’s there.” Hoseok said as he threw his arm over the seat and scrummaged through a bag of supplies.

Once they parked, he quickly got down from his car, grabbing a rag and a chloroform bottle. He lightly drenched the fabric and quietly tip toed towards the man who seemed to be trying to fix his suit. He lunged forward and shoved the rag in to the mans face. He then proceeded to drag him to the trunk of Hoseoks car. “Fuck dude, you should’ve jogged to your building instead of taking a car you don’t even know how to drive.” He grunted as he shoved him in. Before leaving he went back to close the mans car and put the dropped items back inside. “Okay, time to hit the rode~” he wiped his hands together.

He drove back to his home, slowly edging towards the house making sure his wife already left to take the kids to school. “It’s a go.” He smirked to himself as he parked in reverse onto the driveway. “There’s no way I can carry him to the shed… the wAGON!” He rushed through the garage to the side door leading into the backyard. He grabbed his daughters, Nani, wagon and brought it back to the car. “Alright! Time to get packing. Oh shit… did you get heavier? Oh my god.” He struggled with laying the man on the cart and dragging it to the other side of the backyard to where the shed was. Now this shed wasn’t a regular shed. It was a two story shed. All of his equipment and necessities to expose of the body was down under.

He lifted the toy up diagonally allowing the body to flop onto the ground. He left the wagon outside and shut the door. He then stepped all over the wooden floor to find the broken entry way. One of the boards creaked signaling for him to lift it up slowly and push the body down the stares. “Ooh, that’s gonna leave some bruises… good thing you won’t be alive to see it, huh bud?“ 

Hoseok dragged the body to the procedure table he found in some dumpster behind a hospital. He used all his might to push the man up and onto the platform. He strapped down the legs and arms, as well as duck taping his mouth just in case he decided to wake up and cause a ruckus.

He walked away from the unconscious sack to his supply table. He had all types of knives and other sharp objects out for display. He also had gloves and a painters hazmat jump suit hung up. He carefully put it on but stopped half way once he realized he forgot to call into work sick. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and proceeded to call the management. “Hey yeah, it’s Hoseok Jung from quadrant 4B… I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it today. Bad case of the poops. Shouldn’t have ate those tacos yesterday, know what I’m sayin. Hehe. Yeah anyway, bad diarrhea…. oh yep it’s hitting me right now. Got to go!” He hung up quickly and went on with finishing his wardrobe. He carefully put on the jumpsuit insuring that he won’t wrinkle any of his clothes he was already wearing. Next on was the gloves. He wasn’t sure to take off his wedding ring or leaving it on. The safest choice was leaving it so that’s what he did. 

He grabbed his trailing point blade and brought it to his victim. He checked his pulse to see if the push down the stairs had killed him or if he was still knocked out. Fortunately for Hoseok, the man was still breathing. Hoseok slowly began to cut off pieces of fat from the mans calves and upper arms. This triggered the man to wake up and freak out. “You better be quiet unless you want this to last longer~” Hoseok said in a singing tone. The man didn’t comply which led to Hoseok grabbing the guys ankle and elbowing his knee as hard as he could to break the leg. His victim screamed in mortifying pain which didn’t sit well with Hoseok at all. “I know bud, but I told you. It’s really your fault ya know? With the car situation and the bad words… this is why you gotta be nice to people. So you don’t end up in situations like this! Agh you’re getting blood everywhere!" 

Hoseok then sliced off one ear which made a tuneless squirt sound due to the blood gushing out. The harsh screams carried on through the morning. But Hoseok had the walls soundproof as he was always prepared and neat about everything. The man lost his other ear along with his toes, one by one. By this point the man surely had to have bled out, right? Wrong. He was just knocked out once again. He woke up from his pain induced slumber and continued to scramble and scream. Hoseok had had enough of the mans immature actions. He went back to his supplies and grabbed a clip point blade. "You just never wanna stop running your mouth, do ya?” He turned around and headed towards the mans upper body. He struck the knife on the edge of the males neck and smoothed it to the other side. All that could be heard was gurgles and spurts the body gave off. “Glad I put down some plastic on the floor so you wouldn’t mess it up! You’re such a trouble maker, aren’t you?~ Bet you were a bad boy in high school and bullied people, right? You guys were never very friendly. A real shame considering everyone has potential to be nice.”

Hoseok pulled up his plastic sleeve to check the time. “Oh my, Y/ns almost home from taking the kids to school. I should clean myself up.” And just as he said that last sentence he realized the blood from the injured party had gotten on the cuff of his work shirt . “No… no! No! No! Y/n gave me this shirt! Are you fucking kidding me! You bastard!” He kicked the table in anger making it and the body fall over, splashing on the blood from beneath them. An idea popped into his head as he looked at the lifeless meat. “I bet your wife would take care of these stains..” he said ending it with a smirk. He checked the mans pockets for any sort of identification. He found his wallet that contained his ID and business card. The business card had a house address. “Well lucky me. I know just the place to find her… Mr. Gyun” he left the body there and changed out of his protective gear. 

He knew exactly where the house was. It wasn’t quite far really, just a few blocks down. The neighborhood was nice. Big houses. Big cars. Hoseok could’ve had these type of things but the big ring he got his wife was better. He would’ve traded anything to see a smile on her face. And he knew that if his anniversary shirt was dirty… well it would make her anything but happy. 

Hoseok parked down the street from where the house was and made his way. He rang the doorbell awaiting for a women to pop up. After a couple of minutes he got frustrated and started knocking. Finally a lady opened the door. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized, “My daughters sick so I’m taking care of her at the moment. Is there anything you need?” She asked kindly. 

“Yeah I’m going to need you to just shut the fuck up for a moment." 

"E-excuse me?” She was frozen in confusion. 

“Did you not hear me correctly bitch?” He said a bit louder. “Now back the fuck up.” He pushed her back, forcing her to fall on the ground. He walked into the house and closed the door behind him. “Wooow, what a lovely house. How much was the marble flooring? You know what never mind I’m not here for that. I’m going to need you to clean my shirt." 

The lady stared up at him in surprise. "O-okay.” She complied. Hoseok took off his shirt and threw it at her. 

“Where’s your kitchen?” He asked. Mrs. Guan pointed to the area and had her hair pulled immediately after. “I’m not letting you out of my sight~ Let’s go.” He took his shoes off before he pulled her from the fist full of hair to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. “Now what you’re gonna do is clean this shirt since you’re husband decided to bleed all over it." 

She looked at him stunned. "M-my husband? What’d you do to him?!” She started letting out a few tears that turned into horrendous sobs. 

“Did I tell you to talk! Shut up and clean this shit! Walk to the washer.” Hoseok followed right behind her as she made her way into the laundry room. She began with putting bleach on it and rinsing the mistreated shirt. A small “Mommy” was heard from the living room. “Oh is that your daughter?” Hoseok questioned with a big Cheshire the cat grin. The mother slightly nodded and began to release even more hysterical cries.

“Ple-please don’t hu-hurt my baby!” She whimpered and stuttered in between wails. 

“Can’t make any promises.” He chuckled as he looked around the room. He found some curtain ropes and used them to tie up Mrs. Guan. He also grabbed a sock and shoved it in her mouth. “If you even peep out a word I swear to god I’ll end her right in front of you, got it?” She shook her head furiously. “Good~” He smiled and skipped out of the room. He set the knife on the coffee table and headed towards the little girl that was standing near the stair case. “Hi sweetie. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asked sweetly. She shyly pointed to her throat. 

“Oh! That’s right. You’re sick. Come here~” he waved her over and picked her. “Let’s get you some medicine, yeah?” The little girl nodded her head. “Good girl.” He walked over to the kitchen, girl in arms and sat her down on the counter. “Do you know where mommy keeps her medicine?” The young girl pointed to the cabinet across from where she was sitting. Hoseok followed her finger and scrimmaged through the bottles. He found some night time NyQuil and made a quick plan in his head. 

“Where’s mommy?” The girl peeped up. 

“Don’t worry honey. She just went to the store to pick up some milk. Now here drink this.” He poured more than half the bottle in a mug. 

“That’s so much though.” She whined. 

“Do you wanna be sick forever or do you wanna be strong and healthy and go play outside as soon as you can." 

"As soon as I can…” She looked down at the cup sadly. 

“Drink up!~” He waited until the kid drank the whole thing then took her upstairs where he tucked her into bed. “I’m going to turn on the tv so you can fall asleep faster. That way you can wake up feeling refreshed.” He turned off the lights and left the room, closing the door behind him. “If you ever wake up again.” He said in a cruel manner. 

He walked himself back down to the laundry room to witness the lady still tied up. He left her like that seeing as his shirt was practically finished. It just needed to be dried. He knew he couldn’t dry the shirt there though of course. Can’t leave any evidence behind. “Ahh good as new. Thank you. Now it’s time for you to visit your husband, okay? I really think you’ve earned it!” He went to go grab the knife and came back. He crouched behind her and pointed the knife at the peak of her forehead. “Any last words? Ahhh who am I kidding. You can’t talk with that gag in. Hm what a shame.” He held her neck from behind and struck her above the eyes killing her instantly. He grabbed the bleach and a rag to clean the knifes handle from any finger prints. He went back to the kitchen and bleach cleansed all the bottles and cabinet handle he had touched. He proceeded to head to the girls room. He knocked slightly and peeked his head out.

“Sweetie? Are you awake?” There was no answer from the other end. He fully entered the room the see the little girl sleeping. “Awww,” he looked at her while tucking her unraveled blankets back into place “, you’d be lonely in this cruel world if I just left you here…. plus you’ve already seen my face. Don’t worry it’ll be better in the after life… or at least that’s what they say.” He grabbed one of the many pillows and covered her face. She struggled a bit but her small arms weren’t forceful enough to push Hoseok off. After a few minutes he raised the pillow and checked for a pulse, lucky for him he found none. 

Continuing, he made sure to clean everything he had touched, including body parts. Afterwards he puts his shoes on and exited through the back door. He jumped the fence and landed on the street behind the original one. He walked to the end of the street and turned the corner to his car. “Another hard day at work.” He chuckled to himself. “Thank goodness I brought a spare change of clothes. Hopefully Y/n doesn’t notice." 

He drove back home to find you calmly relaxing the couch. You turned to him in surprise, "Oh what are you doing home early?” You asked curiously. 

“There wasn’t much work today.” Hoseok shrugged. “So I was thinking we could just have a nice quiet afternoon to ourselves.” He suggested with a smirk and a brow wiggle. 

“Sounds just lovely baby.” You agreed getting up and slithering your hands around his waist. “Anything in particular you want to try out?” You asked.

“Anything with you would just rock my world.” He replied, kissing the tip of your nose then your lips. “Nothing too crazy though Mrs. Jung. We still have kids coming later." 

"Ahh Hobi,” you hit his shoulder playfully, “it’s now or never with those two.” You looked at him adoringly. 

“I guess you’re right.” He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

As he carried you, you thought there was something different about Hoseok but you couldn’t pin point what exactly. Until it hit you, “Hey Hobi, weren’t you wearing something else?”

“Ahh I spilled coffee all over myself but luckily I had a shirt in my car from our last road trip.”

“Oh I see. Be careful next time dummy.” You giggled and went in for a kiss. 

Later that night at the family dinner everything felt peaceful and quiet. It was tranquil and everyone was happy. Though, it seemed like this would be the last of these type of serene meals… for while that is.