#i have been so mean to you guys and i am sorry

[sa2sugu]

....hi everyone......... i know that some of you already know about this but i have a bl comic that is currently being published on lezhin. it's called "처음의 여름" or "a first of summers". it's explicit and i'd be really happy if anyone who is interested in this type of thing or my art gives it a read.

you can read the english version at: https://www.lezhinus.com/en/comic/first_summer

(or the korean version here if you're into that): https://lezhin.com/ko/comic/first_of_summers

you can also follow me on twitter: https://x.com/pppanghouse

i have gotten many messages asking me if i was the one behind a first of summers (because apparently my art style is very recognizable i can't hide from you guys!!), and i've been ignoring them for months (sorry, everyone) because i was never fully proud of the work that i was putting out there. i still don't think i am at a point where i can confidently promote my work like a normal person would because me and shame are like this -> 🫂. but i am working on getting better at managing my shame and making this post is a step towards that goal. in a way, i felt more reluctant to post about it here because i see the connections i've made on tumblr as real tangible friendships rather than parasocial ones so it's even more embarrassing.

as a lover of yaoi, slice of life and queer media, i tried to make something that i personally would like to read, in an art style that i would have found inspirational when i started digital art. here are some panels that i am kind of proud of ahh hee hee

to be honest it feels very very weird to "make a story" and "share it with people", because i've never done something like this before and having to offer my personal themes and internal symbols to people in the hopes that some of you may resonate with them feels like i'm running down the street with my whole ass out in the open. idk how people do this.

also, i know a lot of you consume media illegally and i know that i alone can't stop you from doing that. which is why i'm all the more thankful to anyone who chooses to support me by buying the chapters on the official websites. i'm slowly learning that this (working on stories and drawing) might be something i want to keep doing and get better at, so i'm so deeply grateful to those who make that possible for me by supporting me financially. it always feels super nice when people show appreciation for my art and recommend it to other people and talk about it.

anyways, so that's me. i have a lot more to say but this post has already gotten long enough, and none of it includes any information on what the comic is about lol so here's a short synopsis: hyeonseon is a 40yo divorced salaryman who, after having a bit of a midlife crisis about where he is at in life, decides to learn electric guitar. his teacher, yeoreum (which means summer) is a 24yo college student who is also having a bit of a crisis of his own aaaand falls for the older dude. uhhhh and as i said it's explicit they are fucking it oppa homo style, and it does deal with themes related to age gaps but please don't come for meeeee!!!!!!!! i tried to make it tasteful and chose to work with age gaps because i had something to say about the concept of adulthood/life, also i enjoy a dude who's a little old getting dicked down by a younger lad what do you want me to say, damn......

if you have any nice things to say about my work then weeheee please go ahead, thank you

[p1astr81]

friend is just a word

In which: you’re drunk off your ass and accidentally mistake formula one driver for a friend.

Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

warnings: excessive alcohol consumption, not proofread😵‍💫

an: TYSM FOR 600 FOLLOWERS🥳🥳🥳

The music was blasting, light flares obstructing your vision while you tried to stumble back to your friends on weakening legs. The drink in your hand kissed the rim off the glass every now and then, but you hadn’t spilt any of it.

Your shoulder bumped into another, and you went to apologize, but your thoughts were thrown off by his familiar face.

If his face was familiar, he had to be a friend. Right?

A hand of yours gripped onto his shoulder for stability. He eyed the hand with a raised brow, but neglected to verbally question it.

It felt like your brain was trying to communicate with you, but it couldn’t penetrate the fog caused by the alcohol. “I didn’t know you were here!” His brown hair flopped when he flinched away from you, your voice far too loud for his ears to bare. “How have you been?! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Uh, good. I guess?” You didn’t catch his nervous glances.

“That’s amazing! You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I got that call back about the job with sky sports.”

He raised his brows in interest. “Oh really? What for?” His head cocked to the side.

“A second interview! I didn’t even know they did second interviews. I thought it was just one and done!” You laughed, an irregular high-pitched sound.

By now, Oscar was quite sure you weren’t aware of who he really was. Just that you thought you knew him. “Probably so they know you won’t bother the drivers.”

You feigned offense. “What! I would never do such a thing!”

Ironic, Oscar thought, you’re kind of doing it right now. But he didn’t really care. He actually found it kind of amusing.

He chuckled. “No, I’m sure you’d never bother them.”

You folded over in laughter. He didn’t even know he said anything funny. “Oh, you are too funny, Oscar!” You pretended to wipe a tear.

Strangely, that action might’ve brought you to your senses.

“Piastri.” Was the only word you spoke. It sat on the fringes of inaudible.

The panic that washed over your features was too humorous. He couldn’t not grin.

And then you went white. “I’m so sorry. I thought- oh, god.” You hid your face behind your hand. “I did not mean to bother you. I thought you were one of my friends.”

Oscar only chuckled. “I figured. No worries. It was pretty funny to watch.”

Maybe, just maybe, a part of him was glad it was him and not some other random guy in the bar.

“I’m gonna- yeah I’m gonna go back to my actually friends now.” You rambled. “Sorry!” A squeak.

The conversation didn’t end when you left, because then he had to return to his own party. Lando made fun of him for it.

“Awe! Osco finally found a girlfriend!” He teased, earning a head shake from Oscar.

“She was just drunk.” He waved off.

But lando wouldn’t let up. The whole night, he made off handed comments. He pointed her out anytime he saw her. And at one point,

“I’m gonna go talk to her. Be a wingman.” He flashed Oscar a toothy, mischievous grin and winked at him. Before Oscar could object, he was off.

You were laughing your ass off at something one of your friends said when a slightly slurred, British voice interjected. “Hey girls!” He greeted the group, a bright smile, before turning his gaze to you. “Hi.” He repeated, trying not to laugh at your overly shocked expression. “You see that guy in the blue shirt? Yeah, he wants your number but is too much of a pussy to ask for it himself, so here I am.” He explained with copious amounts of amusement.

Your brain took a minute to catch up with him. “Uh, uhm- yeah. Sure. I guess. Uh.” You scrambled to find something to write on and write with. “I have no paper.”

“Right.” Lando handed you his phone, open to the notes app. He couldn’t stop grinning as your fingers fumbled to type in your number, and when he said his goodbyes, and when he returned to Oscar.

“Got it. You can thank me by making me your best man.” He shrugged, too cocky for how easy the situation was.

“Yeah, whatever.” Oscar dismissed, but he took the number and saved it in his phone anyway.

He made a mental note to call you tomorrow, after your inevitable hangovers faded away.

[stxrsniolo]

ㅤㅤ──── sorry doesn’t fix stupid ❞

ㅤㅤ♱ summary: inspired by this idea by the iconic @muwapsturniolo <3

chris knew he’d fucked up the second he saw y/n’s face that night; it wasn’t just a regular screw-up, like forgetting to text back or eating her leftovers, no, this was the kind of colossal, earth-shattering fuck-up that deserved its own wikipedia page.

her art gallery opening, her first solo exhibit, the one she’d been grinding for since she picked up a paintbrush, was the one night she’d asked him to show up for. not just show up, but be there, front and center, clapping like a proud boyfriend.

he’d promised. pinky-sworn, even, because she’d made him do it over tacos one night, laughing about how serious he looked. and what did he do? he ditched her for a sweaty, pointless pickup game with his loud-ass friends, rolling in three hours late with grass stains on his jeans and a goofy “my bad, babe” that didn’t even land.

y/n didn’t scream. she didn’t throw a drink in his face or call him out in front of her artsy friends sipping overpriced wine. she just stared at him, eyes cold as a freezer burn, and said, “get out.”

no inflection, no second chance, just a flat, final order. he tried to stammer something—an apology, an excuse—but she’d already turned back to some guy in a beret, laughing like chris was a ghost she’d exorcised. he slunk out, tail between his legs, and spent the next two hours pacing his room, replaying the look on her face and cursing himself for being so goddamn dumb.

by day two, she was gone. not just mad-gone, but gone-gone.

she’d packed a duffel bag, left his hoodie on the porch with a sticky note that said “donate this” in her neat, loopy handwriting, and blocked him on everything—phone, instagram, even spotify, which he didn’t know you could do.

he tried texting her from his buddy jake’s phone, but she’d sniffed that out too and sent back a single “lose this number” before blocking that one too.

chris was a mess: hair unwashed, living off stale doritos, staring at the ceiling like it’d tell him how to fix this. it didn’t. but around 2 am, fueled by a fifth red bull and a desperation he hadn’t felt since his dog ran away when he was nine, he decided to write her a letter. not a text, not an email—a real, old-school handwritten apology. he figured the effort would hit her in the chest, crack that icy wall she’d built.

he poured his heart out, ink smudging from his sweaty palms, and slid it under her door at dawn, praying she’d at least skim it.

she didn’t just skim it. she dissected it.

dear y/n,

i know i messed up. like, catastrophically. i don’t even have words for how sorry i am, but i’m gonna try anyway because you deserve that much.

[“catastrophically” is cute. did you borrow it from a thesaurus? also, “gonna” isn’t a word, genius. write “going to” like an adult. and “deserve that much”? vague. try harder.]

i should’ve been there for your gallery thing. it was your night, and i blew it so bad i hate myself for it.

[“gallery thing”? it’s an EXHIBIT, you absolute walnut. my literal blood, sweat, and tears went into it, and you call it a “thing”? “blew it” doesn’t cover it; you torched it, stomped on the ashes, and spit on the grave.]

i got caught up playing ball with the guys, and i lost track of time, and i know that sounds like a lame excuse, but it’s the truth.

[oh, wow, the truth? how noble. doesn’t make it less pathetic. your “guys” are a pack of overgrown toddlers. comma splice after “guys”—should be a period. basic grammar, chris.]

i’m an idiot. a complete moron. i don’t deserve you, not even a little, but i’m begging you to give me another chance because i can’t stand this.

[finally, some self-awareness. “moron” tracks—gold star for honesty. “begging” is a choice, though—kinda sad. also, “not even a little” is redundant. pick a lane.]

page two is where it gets real deep.

i stayed up all night thinking about how much you mean to me. you’re my everything, y/n, and i know i don’t say it enough.

[what are you, a soundcloud rapper? “everything” is lazy—name one specific thing or it’s just noise. and you don’t say it enough because you don’t show it, period.]

i remember the first time we met, at that coffee shop, and you spilled your latte on me and laughed, and i fell for you right then and there.

[run-on sentence, my guy. should be: “we met at that coffee shop. you spilled your latte on me and laughed.” also, i laughed because you squealed like a teakettle, i thought you’d cry.]

i can’t lose you over this. i’ll do anything—therapy, time management classes, hell, i’ll tattoo your name on my forehead if it proves i’m serious.

[“can’t” needs an apostrophe—can not, you caveman. therapy? you need a lobotomy. and a forehead tattoo? don’t tempt me to say yes just to watch you regret it.]

page three is me promising i’ll never let you down again. i swear on my life, on my mom’s life, on every stupid basketball i own.

[“never let you down again” is a bold lie since you’ve flaked 23 times, i’ve got receipts. “swear on my life” is dramatic and legally meaningless. also, your basketballs are trash—swear on something valuable.]

i love you. please, just talk to me. i’m dying here without you.

[comma after “please” is pointless—cut it. “i’m dying” is a you problem, not a me problem. and “talk to me”? i’d rather talk to my houseplant—it shows up when i need it.]

yours (if you’ll still have me),

chris

[“yours” is delusional at this point. parentheses in a signature? weird flex. also, sign it “christopher”—“chris” is too casual for this mess.]

y/n found the letter when she got home from a late-night diner run with her girls, still buzzing from fries and petty gossip about chris’s latest flop. she saw the envelope under her door, his messy handwriting scrawled across the front, and almost kicked it into the hallway trash chute, but curiosity—and maybe a tiny flicker of boredom—won out.

she grabbed a glass of pinot noir, plopped onto her couch, and tore it open. the first line alone made her snort. by page two, she was cackling, red pen in hand, slashing through his words like a professor grading a failing essay. she didn’t feel an ounce of guilt; chris had earned this, and she was too good at being petty to let it slide.

she spent an hour on it, sipping wine and muttering to herself.

“catastrophically? who does he think he is, shakespeare?” she circled every misspelling, every lazy contraction, every desperate plea, her notes dripping with sarcasm and shade. by the time she hit page three, her handwriting was a little loopy from the wine, but her spite was razor-sharp. she folded the letter back up, grabbed a neon pink post-it from her desk, and scribbled a reply that felt like a mic drop:

“hey christopher, your little sob story’s a trainwreck. grammar’s atrocious, logic’s nonexistent, and i’m not your therapist or your mommy. you wanna grovel? fine. rewrite this garbage and fix every single error i marked, make it coherent, and hand-deliver it under my door by tomorrow, 6 p.m. sharp. no typos, no excuses, no sad puppy eyes. if it’s halfway decent, i might unblock your sorry ass. might. clock’s ticking, clown. don’t test me.”

she taped the note to the envelope, strutted to his house three blocks away in her fuzzy slippers—because she wasn’t dressing up for this fool—and left it on his doorstep. she even knocked twice, loud, just to make sure he’d hear it and panic. then she walked off, smirking, already imagining him scrambling to meet her deadline.

chris, meanwhile, was sprawled on his couch, halfway through a bag of cheetos, when he heard the knock. he stumbled to the door, orange dust on his fingers, and saw the envelope. his heart jumped—maybe she’d forgiven him? then he read her note, saw the red ink bleeding through the pages, and groaned so loud his neighbor banged on the wall.

he opened it, skimming her edits, and felt his soul shrivel. “uncultured toaster”? “lobotomy”? she’d even counted his screw-ups—23 times? he didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or burn the letter and move to canada.

but chris was stubborn. and maybe a little masochistic.

he wiped his hands on his shirt, grabbed a fresh pen, and cracked open a notebook. he had 23 hours to rewrite the apology of his life—and he wasn’t about to let her win this round.

not yet.

︶ ͡ ۫ © stxrsniolo & eclipsturns's all rights deserved ! /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ⚡︎ ㅤ𝑀𝐘 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ..! @courta13 @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @ariieeesworld @pixie-sticks-are-good @luvjaeeee @sturnslutz @mattswifeyy @oopsiedaisydeer @v4lsturn @pair-of-pantaloons @idkwhatthisevenislol @sturn777 @whore4mattsturniolo @madifilipowiczisthebest @fratbrochrisgf @ivysturnss @mattsatellite @sturnsblogs @izzylovesmatt @allisonclairee @m4gz-png @mr-wrinkleton @bluestriips @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @immaqulate @wysmols @chrepsi @mattslolita @ribbonlovergirl @milo-the-dog @madisturni @ariestrxsh @myluck4u-com

[astars-things]

Surprise

*Photos from Pinterest I do not own them

Summary- Lando breaks the internet by announcing he and y/n are having a baby but nobody knew he was married let alone capable of having a child

Dad!Lando Norris x Mom!reader

Liked by @.charles_leclerc @.F1fan and others

@.Landonorris My wife, y/n, has been growing this little miracle, and we thought it was time to share it with the world... Baby Norris, we love you already 🤍

Tagged @.y/n_Norris

view comments

@.y/n_Norris Sorry, everyone… surprise? 🙃🤍

*liked by @.Landonorris

@.oscarpiastri I go offline for two hours and come back to this??????

@.charles_leclerc Imagine minding your business, sipping some tea, opening Instagram, and BOOM—Lando Norris is about to be a father. Life is a simulation.

@.f1tea No one knew he was MARRIED let alone HAVING A BABY THIS IS INSANE.

@.carlossainz55 You drop THIS and then just carry on like normal????? HELLO?????

@.User I WAS NOT READY FOR THIS INFORMATION. WHO LET HIM HAVE A CHILD?!?

@.maxfewtrell Am I the only one who knew?

-> @.y/n_Norris don't even start or you'll get your uncle privilege taken away

@.Lewishamilton Big news! Wishing you and your family all the best. 👏

@.User2 WHAT DO YOU MEAN BABY NORRIS?! YOU WERE MARRIED???

Load more comments

liked by @.user @.Landonorris and others

@.y/n_Norris Pink skies ahead! So excited to meet our baby girl. 🩷

tagged @.Landonorris

view comments

@.Landonorris Girl dad era loading 🥹💕

@.Fan OMG THATS WHY HE HAD A PINK HELMET

*liked by @.Landonorris and @.y/n_Norris

@.McLaren Our little papaya princess! 🧡

@.danielricciardo GIRL DAD NORRIS IM NOT OKAY

@.team_quadrant congratulations to the both of you

@.georgerussell63 Baby girl Norris is about to have F1 uncles who will fight over her

-> @.Landonorris wouldn't want it any other way

@.lance_stroll Ready for her to own the paddock already. Congrats, guys!

@.yourbestie the most spoiled little princess already

Load more comments

Liked by @.danielricciardo @.McLaren and others

@.Landonorris & @.y/n_Norris Eleanor Norris has made her grand entrance into the world! Our little princess is happy, healthy, and already so loved. We kindly ask for privacy during this special time, and we won’t be sharing her face for a while. Thank you for all the love and support 🩷🫶

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please like and reblog 🫶

[nionom-art]

Oke, so, to show my process...

Plagg said it's could have been worse ... I realized it IS WORSE... I went back to check, since in Cannon, the episode is a double one, because Ladybug FORGETS to capture the akuma... So I checked if it happens here to... It does... Problem is... It's NOT on ACCODENT...

The last panel we saw the akuma...

And I was wondering, how could Lila made such a mistake when she is well informed and want to appear as comprtent... + SHE SAW the akuma...

Than I realized, she let it get away, possibly to set an even bigger threat and show the peaple, they REALLY NEED her, and she CAN protect them... Ughf... Clever in a wrong way😅

Am I on the right track?😅

Also, the Akuma seems a bit different... Is it just the way you draw it, or there's something up rith the Buttetfly holder? (Since we did not saw them, and it's a kwami swap au, I have a suspicion they might not Gabriel....😏)

The akuma is supposed to be the same as cannon (I just added my own stylistic touch- and by that I mean I simplified it). Sorry if that threw you guys off at all. Y’all will get to find out who the butterfly holder is next episode (and we’ll finally meet Adrien!)

As for Lila purposely not capturing the akuma- well, you’ll see what I went with pretty soon.

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello hello, I am back with another request! It's with Oscar again but friends to lovers. Hear me out, the most cliche thing ever. Oscar loves her, she loves him but both too dense to realise it. They are out and about and another dude corners her and tries to make out with her, Oscar saves the day (make him protective and violent pls, make him punch the guy (side note: I would pay money to see Oscar actually punch someone, don't ask me why idk🙈)). So then he comforts her, takes her home and she asks him to stay. I will leave the rest of the convo to you🤗. Let there be a first kiss and cuddle I beg I am the biggest sucker for those bcs Oscar seems like the best guy to have your firsts with.

Holy hell that's a long ass request haha. Thank you for reading all that🤣 have fun with it and feel free to change things up a little bit if you want to!

be / OP81

Summary: Oscar x female!best childhood friend!Australian!reader - You and Oscar are finally forced to realize your feelings for each other.

Warnings: panicking, someone forcing himself onto another person, blood, crying, i did change up the request a little bit 🤏, feeling sick

Requested: Yes! And don't worry about the long request, I really liked it, and thanks so much for requesting! Long requests are better sometimes anyway.

Author's Note: Guys I'm starting to think I seriously need my very own Oscar Piastri....

"It wasn't even that funny-"

"It wasn't even that funny!"

Both you and Oscar look up to who it was mockingly imitating Oscar's friendly teasing, and your eyes set themselves upon Lando Norris, smirking obnoxiously.

"What's your problem?" you demand, crossing your arms, most of the laughter from Oscar's joke that he made fives minutes ago (yes, you were still laughing your head off at it) gone.

"What do you mean? I'm just kidding. It's just funny how your boyfriend can make the most dumb joke, and send you both into a ten minute laughing fit-"

"Boyfriend?" you and Oscar seem to ask incredulously in sink.

The smile falls off of Lando's face this time, and is replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Waaaait... So you're trying to tell me you guys aren't dating?"

Oscar blinks a few times in confusion. "Y/n and I are just friends. We always have been."

"Yeah," you add quickly, nodding. "I don't know why everyone thinks differently."

Lando's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Maybe because you guys act like you're mad in love...? Like, all the time? Or maybe the fact that you come to every single one of our races? Or maybe it's the way you look at each other with heart eyes, like the other one is the only one in the room? I mean, I don't know. It could be the way you're always giggling and talking and yapping to each other... But, oh, what do I and everybody else know?"

"Good question," Oscar deadpans. "What do you know?"

Lando shrugs, rollings his eyes, and struts away. As soon as he's gone, Oscar turns back to you with a little shrug and says, "Sorry about that. I guess nobody gets that two people can love each other as friends without feeling romantic feelings..."

You nod, shrugging. It makes sense to you, simply because that's how it's always been with you and Oscar, forever. The two of you practically slept in the same crib (not literally!). You always just assumed he's like a brother or something, and it doesn't pay to consider anything else. So you haven't. Too risky, and besides- that's not worth it to waste your time thinking about. You like things just the way they are, no need to change them.

"-Y/n?"

"Hm?!" you look up, snapping out of your pondering.

Oscar smiles at you, his brown eyes soft, like they always are when he looks at you. You smile back, eyes equally as warm as he says, "Did you hear me?" in amusement.

You chuckle, "No, sorry."

He nods, giving your shoulder a little pat as he stands up. "I've got to go now get ready for the race. First of the season. Wish me luck!"

"Luck isn't needed," you say with a little grin. "You've got enough skill alone to win it."

He grins. "I guess. But luck never hurts, does it?"

"Not at all." You stand up with him and give him a quick half-hug, saying gentler, "Drive safe, and bring it home. I'll be cheering you on."

"Like always?"

"Like always."

"Hey, Y/n?"

You look up from your phone, shutting it off. You're sitting alone, long after the 2025 season opening race, the Australian Grand Prix, has ended. You haven't seen Oscar since the race ended, and have just been sitting around, not wanting to go home until you have a chance to talk with him. And there he is, standing there, back in his regular clothes: a black sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, looking thoroughly sleepy.

You immediately stand up, smiling, saying simply, "It was a great drive."

"Well, I-"

"Hush. You scored points after what happened, and that's enough, for goodness' sake."

He smiles softly, and though his eyes say a lot more, he just nods and says simply, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always."

You nod promptly and say teasingly, "I know!"

He just rolls his eyes and says, already in a better mood just by talking to you, "Mum wanted you over tonight for dinner."

You grin, "She did, did she?"

"You know she always does, whenever I'm around, want me to bring you over. She adores you."

"She's the sweetest," you chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't mind one of your mum's home cooked meals."

Oscar nods, grabbing his coat, and saying, "I agree; that would hit the spot right now. C'mon."

You two make it to the car and get in, before you start heading to Oscar's mother's home. The car ride is mostly silent, but neither of you really mind. It's a comfortable, good kind of silence.

Towards the end of it, though, you ask simply, "So, that's the end of the first race week of the season. How're you feeling?"

Oscar shrugs, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "Hmm... I guess I'd have to say tired, but very hopeful."

You smile. "Good. You just need your beauty rest, huh?"

He glances at you with a cute little smile. "Right."

Dinner is nice. Warm, and reminds you of home, and your childhood, and everything good. And it's perfect for a rainy day like today.

Once he's finished eating, though, Oscar stands up, stretching, from the table, and says, "Well, I should be off to bed..."

"Oh, Oscar, you will give poor Y/n a ride home won't you?" Oscar's mother asks.

He looks over at you with a little smile and nods, saying, "Oh, right, of course."

You walk to the door together, but before Oscar opens the front door to leave, you gently grab his arm and say simply, "Osc."

He looks up from unlocking the door, meeting your eyes. "Hm?" he asks gently.

"You don't need to drive me home. I could get a cab or take the bus or whatever. It's all good. You've had a crazy week, as it is, much crazier than mine-"

"I mean, I was thinking maybe it'd be fine if I didn't drive you home, too, but you don't have to get a cab. I'm sure if I asked, my mum would be fine with you just staying the night or something."

You blink in surprise, but smile at the suggestion. "Oh. Well, I'd hate to bud in-"

He smiles. "You're family, Y/n. Don't worry." He takes your hand, tugging you back towards the dining room, calling, "Mum! Would it be fine if Y/n just stayed the night? We've both had a long day!"

"Oh, of course, honey! Tell her she can make herself just all nice and comfy and at home! Y/n's such a sweetheart, anyways. She's always welcome!"

Oscar smiles, looking at you. "You heard that, right?"

You smile back up at him with a little laugh. "Yeah, I heard that."

He nods, saying, "C'mon, let's go to my room."

The two of you head there, both of you knowing the way to Oscar's childhood bedroom from all the years you used to spend in there together. When you walk in, seeing all the dressers in the same place they always were, and all Oscar's old decorations from his karting days, memories seem to flood back, just like that, and both you and Oscar feel it. You crawl onto his bed, just like you always used to do, flopping down against his pillows, making yourself at home.

Oscar smiles and crawls in next to you. Just like he always used to do, too. "Last time we were both here was..."

"...right after you joined McLaren, right?" you smile at the memory.

"I guess so." He smiles down at you.

"I remember distinctly, one time, you had been gone so, so long, and I asked your mum if I could surprise you when you got home..."

Oscar starts laughing, clearly remembering it to. "Ohhh yeah. I threw open the bedroom door and flopped on my bed, even though you were on it. By the time I saw you and yelped, it was too late."

"Yeah, and I wrapped my arms around you and started tickling you," you say giggling.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "I remember. By the end of it, I was gasping and near tears. God, Y/n, you know I was tired."

"I know. But I made you laugh and smile, didn't I? And I made you feel better, didn't I?"

"I mean, I was just happy to see you," he says, his gaze comfortably resting on yours.

"I was happy to see you. Do you know how much I missed you those months?"

"You miss me if you don't see me for a week, Y/n, still."

"Why do you think I come to every race that I can?"

"Because I pay for you to?"

You roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms, "I mean, yeah, but that's not the sentiment I was going for!"

He laughs, giving your shoulder a little playful tap. "I know, I know."

You sigh deeply, the sweet silence settling between the two of your for a little while, before murmuring, "And I hope you remember after that tickle attack, when your face was red and you were nearly crying from laughing, I gave you the biggest hug of all time..."

Oscar's face warms at that as he leans a bit closer to you. "Yeah... Yeah, I remember. You wanna know why that moment was special to me?"

"Why?"

"Because that was the moment I realized that there are some people in my life that never truly will leave me. Even if I leave them. And you're one of the best of them. That was when I learned what family is."

You nod slowly, thinking about that for a few moments, before saying, "That's... so sweet. I like it."

Oscar smiles. "Me, too. I like it too. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you."

"And I so lucky to have a best friend like you."

Oscar smiles at that, nodding, satisfied, before letting out a big yawn, reminding you if a sleepy cat, before folding his hands up into fists and rubbing his watery eyes.

And, as if it's contagious, you let your own yawn, a few moments later.

Oscar smiles, this time more sleepily at you, before slipping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you a little closer to himself. You flop your head to lean against his shoulder, and murmur, "Time for us both to get the much-needed rest our bodies are begging us for?"

"Mmm-hm. Yeah. Whatever you said," Oscar murmurs as he drifts off, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mostly relaxed face.

And you both drift off, surrounded by that perfect warmth and tranquility that feels just like home.

A little under a week later, you're sleeping against Oscar in a very similar position, feeling like you're just as at home in China than you are in Australia, simply because of the person you're resting against, when you're awakened by the painful claims, "I ship it, the mechanics ship it, the other teams' drivers ship it, the fans ship it. My God, even my mum ships it! Literally everyone can see you're mad in love except you and her!"

You stretch, your eyes fluttering open, and murmur before you're even sure it's Lando's unwanted yapping torturing your ears, "Landooo shut uppp..."

Oscar gives your shoulder a squeeze, groaning to Lando in his perfectly alert awake state (contrary to yours), "Look at that, Lando, you made her wake up!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you'd hate for her to stop sleeping against y-"

"Lando, stop, it's not like that."

"How come every time a girl and a guy are friends, everyone ships them? I think that's society's problem," you comment as you rub your tired eyes.

Lando snorts, saying, "It's not every time. You guys are just obvious. And oblivious. You just need to admit it to each other."

"There's nothing to admit to each other, Lando," Oscar comments as he watches you slowly lean off of him, slipping his arm off your shoulders.

"Yeah, we're, like, brother and sister."

"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Oscar begins quickly.

"I mean, yeah, like-"

"We're more like just really close friends," Oscar finishes confidently.

"Yes, that's true, I agree," you say quickly, looking up at him. "We're family, but not brother and sister."

"Ah, so you're family, but it's not like siblings. What else could you be other than mad in love but just too dense to realize it?" Lando asks.

You just glare, crossing your arms, and Oscar comments, "I don't know, but it's not like that."

"Maybe it's just not like that simply because you both refuse to admit what you really want."

"Lando, I don't need you of all people being my psychologist. Could you just leave it?" you comment, feeling Oscar's eyes watching you.

Lando sighs (overdramatically), shrugs, and says, "Suit yourself. I'm just saying, you guys have got to get together soon, or else you'll drive yourselves and everyone else insane. We can all tell you guys just need to kiss already." And with that, he once again struts away.

As soon as he's gone, you whine, leaning your head into Oscar's shoulder, "I hate Lando!"

"Don't say that. He's just kidding," Oscar says gently.

You sigh. "I know... it's just..."

"Hm?" Oscar prompts gently.

"I don't want people thinking something that's not true."

"Who cares what they think? We both know how we feel about each other, and that's all that matters." But do we? Oscar's brain echoes.

"Yeah, you're right," you murmur, nodding, comforted by his words, not even picking up the way he stares forward, eyebrows knitted together, deep in thought.

You've heard what you think you want to hear, and that's all that matters to you.

The moment you see Oscar after his podium, after he stood on the first step, winning such a solid race as that, you run into his arms, causing him to laugh as he hugs you back, saying, "Hey, Y/n."

"I'm so proud of you!" you say excitedly. "Amazing drive- amazing!"

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. I'm so happy you were here to cheer me on."

You grin up at him. "Me, too, Oscar. Me too."

He celebrated with his team after the race, you staying in your hotel, since Oscar promised you he'd like to bring you home with him to Monaco, and have a more low key celebration, without as many people. Besides, you'd like it that way better anyway. And this way, you can get some extra sleep and try to avoid some of the jet lag from the long flight to Monaco.

Now you stand in Oscar's bathroom back in Monaco, gazing at yourself in the mirror in your white crop top and silver skirt, knowing that when you step out of the bathroom, all you need is for Oscar to tell you it looks nice, and then all your worries will vanish.

And once you do, of course, he stands up from the living couch and says, "You look really pretty. Ready to go?"

You smile softly, sighing in relief, and nod. "Yes. I'm ready to go celebrate with the winner of the 2025 Chinese Grand Prix." You laugh a bit, and add as you head out to the car, "Oscar, you know I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He grins. "I know, I know." You know he loves your lavishing, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's never gotten enough of it; you're one of the people that appreciate him the most, you think, at least. You appreciate him a whole lot, anyways.

Soon you get to your destination, and the night starts off really fun, you and Oscar just sticking with each other, laughing, singing, drinking, and dancing. But after too long, the air becomes stale, the noise becomes too loud, and the drinks turn bitter. You're tired, and Oscar's off somewhere, swept away with his other friends. You sigh deeply, leaning against the wall, running a hand through your hair.

It's then that you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it makes you flinch. It's unfamiliar.

It's not Oscar's hand.

You look up to see a man around your age with tangled overgrown curly brown hair and dark, cold eyes. He's wearing a gold chain around his neck and a football jersey. It's then that he shows you his unflattering smirk and says in a thick French accent, "I'm Jordan."

You just kind of nod, showing a fake smile and crossing your arms, not really in the mood for any antics with any strange guys.

His eyebrows raise as he says, "Do you have a name, or am I going to have to give you one?"

Your lip immediately curls up as you look at him from the corner of your eye, still not tilting your face directly towards him. "You're not smooth. My name is Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl. A sassy girl, too, at that. I like that."

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes in utter annoyance at this guy 'Jordan.' "Good for you..." you murmur, trying to send him the message that you really don't want to talk with him.

Jordan just hums and steps closer to you. You glance up at him for the first time, really, feeling a bit sick from how close he is to you. You murmur awkwardly, "Could you please step away?"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm enjoying your reaction too much."

"Please, stop."

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You swallow deeply.

"I really like your skirt..." he purrs, leaning in closer to you, completely ignoring your protests. His hand slips onto your thigh and grips it tightly.

"Stop... I don't care-"

"You don't, don't you? Well, what a shame... I reckon there's not much you can do about that..."

"St-"

He lips meet yours in a nasty, rough kiss. Your head pounds and spins as your knees begin to shake, panic of what's happening sinking in, your thoughts raging with anxious thoughts at the same time as your head being completely empty. You push at his chest, but he pushes his whole body up against yours, pinning you to the wall, further into a shadow.

You gasp, the panic sinking in deeper, and hardly register what happens next.

Oscar's familiar voice in all the chaos says in one of the angriest, coldest tones you've ever heard from his mouth, "Get your fucking nasty hands away from her."

Jordan tears his lips away from your mouth as Oscar grabs him, Jordan turning his head to look behind him, but before he has a chance to react, you watch as a fist comes flying across and hits him square across the face. He stumbles back and as blood begins gushing from his nose. For a moment, his eyes meet yours in shock, as if he expects you to help a dog like him, but it's then that you watch Oscar grab him by the collar and murmur in the darkest of tones to him, "I told you to get your nasty hands away from her, and you didn't. That's my girl, and no one dares to touch her like that. You better not think you can go on like this, and I hope this can be a reminder for you not to." And with that, Oscar throws another punch, hitting the guy in his eye. You slowly slip down the wall, still watching in shock as Oscar finishes him off by handing one more punch to him on his bloody jaw, before letting go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor, finishing with a yell, "The pain you're feeling right now is nothing compared to the pain you deserve!"

You watch as Jordan scampers up and, just like that, without even considering a fight, stumbles off, out of sight.

And then, everything hushed, Oscar turns, and his eyes meet yours. His hair is a little sweaty and messed up, falling over his forehead. For a moment, you see that remaining burning anger, but as soon as he takes you in, that vanishes, and is replace by the familiar warmth he seems to always look at you with.

And the moment your eyes lock, the tears start coming, and you break down.

Oscar is immediately by your side, pulling you into his arms, sitting on the floor next to you and holding you in his lap, gently stroking your hair. After a while, you hiccup, slowly leaning away, your body still shaking, and murmur, mopping up your eyes with your hands, "Os- Oscar... That was scary. I'm scared."

He gently takes your hand. "You don't have to be. I'm here. Are you ready to go home?"

You nod slowly, and Oscar helps you up, leading you out back to his car, his arm around your back protectively the entire time.

Once back in the car, as the events of what just happened replay through your head, you hiccup, more tears threatening to flow. Oscar gently takes your hand, murmuring in the dark of the parked car, "Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it. I hope you know I'll do anything for you to feel better."

You sigh shakily and just lean into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you for a few minutes, before you lean away again and murmur, "Let's just get home..."

Oscar nods. "Good idea." He turns the car on and begins driving, and as soon as he does holds his hand that he's not using to drive out to you. You put your hand in his, letting the warmth from it fill you and comfort you.

As he drives, you suddenly say in the empty silence, "'That's my girl.' That's what you said."

Oscar just nods a little. "I know. I did mean to say that, you know."

You swallow, thinking for a few moments, before murmuring the simple question, "Why?"

"Because you've always been mine and I've always been yours, haven't I?"

You swallow. "I don't know what that means."

"Forget what it means. You're the most important girl- the most important person- to me. You're my girl, and I'm not going to let anyone be messing with you."

That feels right to you, and good to you, to hear that. And you're glad, in a way, that he's so confidently figured that out. It frees you to say back, "Well, yeah, then... I guess that makes you my boy, then..."

Oscar smiles very softly, giving your hand a little squeeze as you arrive at his home. Once you're both inside, before you have a chance to start worrying, Oscar says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder, "I want you to be comfortable. What do you need? I could get you something to eat, run a bath for you, get a change of clothes, all three, whatever else you need-"

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it-"

"Hush," Oscar suddenly interrupts, shaking his head. He moves to stand right in front of you, before gazing down into your eyes, and saying in all sincerity, "Look, I want you to be honest. I want to take care of you if that's what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

You swallow, nodding a bit, before murmuring, "A bath and a change of clothes might be nice... I'm not hungry, though."

Oscar nods, putting his hand on your back, leading you to his room. He opens his closet and says, "You can wear whatever you can find. I'm going to go run that bath for you; I'll call you when it's ready. I'll get a towel for you in the bathroom, too."

You nod, find one of his bigger McLaren T-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants, and head to the bathroom just as Oscar is calling for you.

Oscar smiles at you gently when you walk in and say simply, "Anything else you need?"

You shake your head 'no,' saying, "Thank you."

He nods. "Of course. I'll just be in the living room, you can come there when you're done. Call me if you need anything. And take your time, too."

You smile weakly, nodding. "Alright. Thanks, Osc."

He nods, leaving you to have your bath. You peel off your clothes and sink into the water, feeling its warmth surround you like an embrace. You let out a long sigh of relief as the water touches your sore, tense muscles, soothing them. After the night you've had, it feels good to just be. To just experience something genuinely good and calming, knowing Oscar is just in the next room.

Oscar. The way he stood up for you, was so protective of you, and beyond that, has been taking such good care of you... You know Oscar a good man... He was always a really sweet boy, and he's grown up to be a really very upright and sweet man. It was crazy- crazy- to see him go off on that stranger, and beat him up the way he did.

But somehow, it felt right. It was just proving he's good. That he cares so much about and for you, he won't let anyone hurt you without knowing the consequences of it from him.

How much does he really care about me?

The question almost feels good to ask, because you have a feeling the answer is one you like.

And then the way he so confidently called you his girl.

'That's my girl.'

Just looking back on it, for some reason, it makes your heart skip a beat. It's that chest-tightening nervous affectionate feeling you get often when Oscar does or says little things. Although this time, it's not little, and every new thing he does seems to make your stomach flutter a little more. It's a familiar feeling that you're sure you've gotten hundreds of times before with Oscar, but for some reason, you're only realising it now. Why, you have no idea, and what the strange feelings could mean, you have even less of an idea.

Soon, you finish your bath, and after drying yourself put on Oscar soft, comfortable clothes, no matter how over sized they are on you. Besides, you don't care in the slightest about that as soon as you inhale his familiar, comforting scent when you put them on. You go to the living room and see Oscar laying on the couch on his phone, now in a T-shirt and sweatpants, just relaxing. As soon as you walk in, though, he looks up.

"Osc...? Do you have a brush I could use for my hair?"

He nods, hopping up from the couch, and says, "Yeah, I do. Wait here, I'll be right back. Just get yourself comfy."

He leaves, and you shrug, taking his advice, and curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He takes longer than you expect him to, but soon enough, he walks back in and sits next to you, saying, "Why don't you just relax, and I can brush it for you?"

"Seriously? You don't have to," you say immediately, secretly wanting badly for him to brush your hair for you. You love the feeling of other people playing with your hair- and if it's Oscar, even better.

He smiles at you. "I know, but I want to." And with that, to both of your delight apparently, begins gently brushing through your hair. When he's done, he slowly start running his fingers through it, starting from the bottom and going up to the top. You sigh, leaning back into him, and Oscar just simply loves it. After a while he says, softly amused, "You just seem to melt when my hands are in your hair."

You shrug, smiling a little, and say, "What can I say? It feels really good."

He chuckles that low comforting chuckle that feels just like home. "I can tell." After a few more minutes he says, "I found a hair tie I think you must've left here at one point. Do want me to braid your hair or something?"

You smile, glancing back at him, and say, "You can do that? I don't know if I can trust you."

He just smiles back at you. "You should. I'm good at it. Remember, I grew up with three sisters."

You shrug again before saying, "Well, alright..."

He chuckles softly again, before he gently begins braiding your hair, his fingers gently weaving through your locks, slowly, until he finally finishes and ties it on the end. Once he's finished, you turn around to face him.

He smiles at you.

You smile back, taking his hands in both of yours.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly says, looking right into your eyes. "I don't think I've told you that enough. Because I think it all the time, whenever I look at you."

For some reason, your friend saying that makes you blush. There are a few moments of silence, before you look down at your joined hands and murmur, "Crazy that the hands that beat up that guy are the same hands that just gently braided my hair."

Oscar shrugs, smiling a little. "They have different uses in different moments. And I don't regret what I did for a moment, not any of it. I would do the exact same thing if I had to do it all again. In fact, just thinking about it makes me really angry. But what matters most is that you're okay."

You sigh slowly, nodding, your head a bit dizzy at the thought of it all. "I'm just so thankful for you, throughout it all. You, like, saved the day..." you chuckle wryly.

He shrugs, nodding a bit. "I guess." A little laugh.

More silence.

You stare down once more at your joined hands. "But Oscar..." you begin hesitantly.

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

"...I'm sorry."

"Y/n... for what? You did nothing wrong-!" Oscar begins somewhat incredulously.

"It's just... You were celebrating your win..."

"Oh, Y/n..." Oscar begins, his tone softening. "Come on, now. Look up at me, will you?"

You sigh, doing so.

"It's not your fault, what happened," Oscar says. "It's that idiot's fault, and we both know that. What happened happened, and there was no preventing it. And if you're worried about me, don't be. I had a perfectly good time celebrating in China with my team. This was more that I wanted to do something with you, for you. But look at this right now. Here we are, sitting together, anyway. Isn't that what matters the most anyway; isn't that the point? So why don't we just make the most of this moment, right now, hm?"

You sigh again, nodding slowly, before saying, you heart almost feeling like it's being squeezed, "Okay."

"Hey," Oscar murmurs, his hand touching the bottom of your chin. "You're looking down again. Talk to me." He gently raises your chin.

You swallow, and suddenly, words that you hardly knew you even thought start coming from your mouth, and only now as you hear them in your voice do they even begin to make sense: "I guess it's just that... You're so caring and gentle with me, and protective. And we like each other so much and get along so well and we've known each other for years and... I guess sometimes I wonder about us... You know, our relationship, like, what even is it? I mean, I think we'd both readily admit we most definitely love each other, but I guess... well, I don't know..."

Oscar nods slowly, before whispering, as if it's some long kept secret, "You guess you just wonder in what way we love each other?"

You swallow, nodding. "Well, yes, exactly. Because... well, I don't know."

"Can I tell you how I feel about you?"

You study his face for a few moments- his handsome face- and nod.

"I feel about you the most deep feeling I've ever known, deeper than I ever thought I could experience. The love I have for you is beyond anything I could describe in a physical sense- it's beyond a romantic love or and family love or the strongest kind of named love I could think of. All I know is that when I look at you, I see fulfillment, and happiness. I see everything I've ever needed, plus everything I've ever wanted. I see a priceless jewel- the sort of thing that anyone would honor and protect with their life. I see beauty herself, on the inside and out. I see my best friend, my favorite person, the one I would spend any and every moment with, if I could. I see comfort, I see love. I look at you and know the great lengths I would go for you. I know it's all so cliche, but it is a love beyond words. It is. I just..." he trails off, before leaning in and whispering, "Are you crying?"

You sniff, looking away, your heart pounding. "No..."

He smiles gently, his hand leaving yours to reach up and wipe a tear away off your cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

"That's just so... sweet... and... everything I exactly feel, too, put into words..."

"Y/n..." he hums gently with a little chuckle. "I don't want you to cry, though."

"Don't worry," you say with a little hiccupy laugh. "They're good tears."

He smiles a bit, grabbing your hand again and giving it a squeeze. "Okay."

You swallow, before daring to ask, "What would the difference be, if you were my boyfriend instead of my best friend?"

Oscar eyes seem to light slightly at the question, and he says simply, "Nothing at all, except for one thing: we would be able to express that deep love for each other in different ways."

You nod slowly, swallowing.

Oscar leans in closer to you. "How does that sound to you?"

"I... I think it could be just what I need."

Oscar smiles softly. "I mean, I feel like... it would be nice to not just have to use my words to tell you how much I love you. You know, to be able to kiss you, or something, instead."

You find yourself smile a little at the words, nodding as pinkness gets to your cheeks. "Yeah... that doesn't sound so bad."

Oscar smiles, just gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's just that... with tonight, with what happened..."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning we had to do anything tonight- just to think about. You know...?"

You nod slowly, before muttering, "But maybe... Just maybe tonight is the night to do it." You pause, before continuing, "You know, with all that happened, maybe if we just decided... tonight, let's just take a little step... it would help me to leave that. You know, it wasn't my fault... and I have someone who really does love me."

Oscar smiles. "And I really do."

You smile back, looking back up into his sweet brown eyes.

He slips his hand out of yours and gently brings it to your cheek, muttering, "Well, is it okay if I kiss you? Just a little kiss?"

You smile wider, feeling your stomach flutter at the sincere question. Nodding, you reply, "Yes, I reckon that is okay."

Oscar nods, his thumb stroking your cheek a bit as he leans in, his other hand gently touching your waist. His hand on your cheek shifts to cup the side of your neck, and he whispers, his warm breath on your ear, "You still okay?"

You nod.

And with that, he leans in, and, pulling you closer to himself, kisses you in the most perfect way. His adoration and love for you flows through the kiss, while still keeping it short and gentle. When he leans away, he whispers, "How was that?" with a little adorable smile.

You just sigh shakily and murmur, "I think you should do it again."

And he does without a second more of hesitation. His lips meet yours as he pulls your body closer to himself, lost in the kiss, lost in his emotions. When he pulls away again, he's pulled you onto his lap, but neither of you seem to care, both too swept up in each other's gazing eyes.

"I didn't realize for how long I needed to do that..." he whispers gently.

You smile a little. "I didn't realize how long I needed that from you."

He smiles back. "We'll call that both of our first kisses, okay?"

You nod. "Does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?"

"I like the sound of that."

You smile and throw your arms around him in an embrace. He pulls you closer to him, leaning back so that you can lay your head on him, and rubs your back, whispering, "I love you so much, Y/n. So, so much. To the moon and the stars and all the way back."

You smile up at him. "I don't know about the moon and the stars for me Oscar, but I'll tell you this: I love you enough to want to spend my life with you. I love you enough to want to grow old with you."

At those words, Oscar's arms tighten around you, and he chuckles, "See how sappy we suddenly get as soon as we decide to just give it up and kiss? My God."

You grin into his chest. "Yeahhh... But I don't mind it."

"Oh, trust me, I don't either." He shifts, moving you with him, making you both comfortable, so that you're laying together, cuddling.

"I really like this."

He hums. "Me too."

"You know we'll never hear the end of it from Lando if he finds out."

You feel the vibration of his laugh in his chest. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just relax. I just want to be. Be with you."

"I think that sounds like exactly what I was made for. To be with you."

He smiles, and you shut your eyes, content to listen to his heartbeat and just be.

Just be with him.

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | jjk ch20

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

Before Jungkook enlists in the military, his life takes an unexpected turn when he visits a local restaurant with friends and meets a waitress who doesn’t recognize him. Surprised by your lack of star-struck reaction, Jungkook finds himself drawn to your down-to-earth nature, especially his previous struggles with the pressure of constant drama on social media regarding his relationships. Little do you know, Jungkook is about to leave for the military, which inevitably bring’s complications to their connection… do they find a way to fix it?

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity.

chap warnings: jk begs for seven days a week. hes so desperate LOL. nari mean as usual. uhhhhh this chap is p much js jk begging. mentions of oc being drunk. idk.

wc: medium length idk

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610 @bjoriis @kaitieskidmore97 @cuntessaiii

a/n: was debating whether to leave this chapter on a cliffhanger or not and I decided yes cuz next one it will hit so much harder. I promise you they sort things out in the next chapter and there will be some pussay clenching smut but not right now sorry guys anyway stay locked in for the next chapter. tysm for reading thank youuuuu my bbs

masterlist , < prev | next >

Monday

Jungkook wakes up in a blur of warmth and regret, tangled in sheets that smell like nothing. They should smell like you. They did smell like you. That soft, familiar scent that clung to his hoodie whenever you’d burrow into his chest after a long shift. Instead, it’s just detergent and sleep, and he fucking hates it.

He groans, sitting up, blinking blearily at the sunlight slicing through the blinds. His phone is the first thing he grabs, thumb unlocking it with muscle memory, swiping down to his messages.

Nothing. Like always.

No texts. No missed calls. No tiny olive branch in the form of a single word, an emoji, a punctuation mark—anything.

He exhales sharply, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, no shit,” he mutters to himself. What did he expect? That you’d suddenly wake up and forgive him because the sun rose?

He tosses his phone onto the bed with a scoff, laughing bitterly at his own stupidity before dragging himself to the bathroom.

The shower is quick—hot enough to scald, like it can burn off the mistakes of the past few weeks. It doesn’t. When he steps out, towel slung low on his hips, the clock reads 8:00 AM.

Which means 8:30 is soon.

Which means 9:00 AM is coming.

Which means you’ll be at work.

He swipes his phone off the bed again, checks one more time—just in case, just to confirm that he is, in fact, a pathetic idiot—before dressing quickly. Simple fit. Black hoodie, sweats, cap. Sunglasses, in case the universe is feeling extra cruel today.

At first, he’s thinking of heading to the supermarket. That’s what normal people do, right? Pick up a bouquet, make some dramatic apology with store-bought roses that have been sitting in the refrigerated section for God knows how long?

But then he shakes his head.

No.

That’s not him. That’s not you.

The supermarket is impersonal. The flowers there have no life. They’re plucked, packaged, shipped, and sold, like love on a goddamn conveyor belt. And maybe if this were any other girl, he could settle for that.

But this is you. And you’re not any other girl.

And for you, only the field will do.

It takes twenty minutes to get there, and by the time Jungkook pulls up, the morning air is crisp and golden, the kind that makes you feel like something is about to change. The field stretches before him in lazy waves, dotted with wildflowers that seem to reach toward the sun, unaware of the man currently kneeling in their midst like a desperate idiot.

His hands sink into the earth, fingers brushing against soft petals as he plucks the daisies carefully, like an offering. The yellow ones. The ones that remind him of you.

It should be ridiculous. Maybe it is. But the thought of you holding something that grew from the ground, something touched by the same wind that once tangled your hair when he brought you here—

That’s worth a little dirt on his knees.

Once he has enough, he dusts himself off, eyeing his work. The bouquet is uneven, messy, imperfect—just like him. But it’s real. And real is all he can give you.

He stops by a convenience store on the way back. No extravagant chocolates. No fancy truffles or artisan shit he can’t pronounce. Just plain milk chocolate—safe, simple, something he knows you’ll eat without question.

And then it’s time.

He drives to your apartment, and when he arrives, Jungkook double-checks before stepping out of his car, watching your apartment window like a hawk. No movement. No shadows. Just stillness.

Good.

He moves quickly, hood pulled up, sunglasses on, looking less like a world-famous singer and more like some local creep delivering secret gifts. He crouches at your doorstep, placing the bundle of daisies down with careful precision, like if he moves too fast, they’ll disintegrate. Then, he pulls a scrap of paper from his pocket, unfolding it with shaky fingers.

A pen was a struggle to find this morning, and the ink smudged a little when he wrote the note, but the words are clear enough:

Please just talk to me. One word. One text. Anything. I’m sorry.

His throat tightens as he sets it beside the flowers, weighing it down with the chocolate bar so it won’t fly away.

And then he retreats.

Back to the car. Back to waiting.

He stays there, parked across the street like a total freak, watching, waiting, ignoring the calls from his manager that light up the dashboard. He should be in meetings. He should be doing literally anything else. But nothing feels more important than this.

Time stretches thin. Hours pass.

Until finally, a familiar car pulls in.

Nari’s.

Jungkook straightens instinctively, heart hammering. He ducks slightly, shifting in his seat like a criminal evading capture.

You step out of the passenger side, looking—God.

Tired. Pretty. Distant. Everything he misses and everything he’s lost, wrapped into one person.

He stays completely still as you walk toward the apartment, Nari at your side, keys in hand. He can’t see your face when you stop at the door, can’t hear the words exchanged, but he doesn’t need to. He watches, frozen, as you look down.

And then, you pick up the chocolates.

Not the flowers. Not the note. Just the chocolates, snatched up and taken inside like nothing else exists.

Jungkook exhales shakily.

It hurts.

It stings in that way only you can make it sting. But at the same time—his heart clenches, because it’s so you. It’s such a you thing to do, choosing something safe, something easy, something that doesn’t require touching the mess he made.

And at least you took something, right?

At least that means something.

Doesn’t it?

He waits another twenty minutes, just to be sure. Then, like a thief in the night, he sneaks back up, creeping toward your doorstep with the grace of a man who has nothing left to lose.

And sure enough, the flowers are still there. The note, untouched.

Jungkook swallows hard, staring at the remnants of his silent plea.

His hands clench at his sides.

This is going to take more than just daisies.

Tuesday

Jungkook has never been much of a morning person, but today, he’s up before his alarm. Not that he really slept. He spent most of the night staring at his ceiling, replaying the moment you snatched the chocolates off your doorstep like some kind of reluctant peace offering. It wasn’t much. But it was something.

And something is better than nothing.

So, naturally, he decides today needs to be bolder.

Sitting in his car, parked outside the diner five minutes before your shift starts, he ignores the relentless buzzing of his phone.

Another meeting missed. Another unread text from his manager.

Whatever.

They can wait. You, on the other hand—

Well, he can’t afford to waste time.

When he walks into the diner, the bell above the door chimes, and the air smells exactly the same as it always has—coffee, maple syrup, a faint trace of grease and nostalgia. It’s the kind of scent that clings to you, seeps into your clothes, settles in your hair.

The scent of the place where he met you.

The last time he was here, he had sulked at a table like a lovesick idiot. But today, he heads straight for the bar—the place where you and Nari always stand.

His presence is immediate, like a storm rolling in. You’re mid-conversation with a customer when you see him, and your whole body stiffens. The easy warmth in your voice vanishes, replaced by something colder, sharper.

Jungkook slides onto the stool at the bar like he belongs there, like he’s just some guy grabbing coffee instead of a man desperately trying to piece himself back together in the exact place where he lost you.

And then—

You scowl.

Hard.

Your eyes narrow, your lips press into a thin, furious line, and for a split second, he swears you might actually throw the pot of coffee at his head.

He may or may not find it the tiniest bit cute.

But then—your lip trembles. Just a little.

And his heart seizes in his chest.

Because there it is. There you are. Even if it’s just in the form of pure, unfiltered hatred—it’s still you. He’ll take it.

Nari appears like an omen, planting herself directly between you and Jungkook with her arms crossed, expression screaming murder.

“Oh, look,” she drawls. “A stray dog. Didn’t realize we were running a shelter today.”

Jungkook sighs. “Good morning to you too, Nari.”

“Don’t ‘good morning’ me. What do you want?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. He should say coffee. He should say breakfast. He should say literally anything normal. But his eyes flicker back to you, watching the way you very deliberately avoid looking at him, the tension wound tight in your shoulders.

You’re mad. You’re hurt. But you’re still here.

And that’s enough.

Nari clicks her tongue, unimpressed. “Alright, since you’re just gonna sit there like an emotionally constipated golden retriever, I’ll get your Americano.”

She turns, yanks the coffee pot off the burner, and pours it aggressively into a glass of ice. The way she slams it down in front of him nearly causes a spill.

“No refills,” she snaps.

Jungkook exhales through his nose, staring at the mug. “Jeez, thanks.”

“Fuck off.”

He takes a sip, but the coffee tastes like sawdust. Not because it’s bad—but because his stomach is twisted into knots, and you still haven’t said a single word to him.

So he does what he’s been doing best lately—he watches.

Watches the way you greet customers with a polite smile, the way you laugh at some old man’s joke, the way you linger just a little longer at table 3 when you think he isn’t looking.

And he knows what you’re doing.

You’re putting on a show.

You’re making sure he sees how fine you are without him. It’s working.

And it’s pissing him the fuck off.

Especially when your boss, the old-aged guy with graying hair, makes a passing comment about how “someone’s extra cheerful today.”

Jungkook’s grip on his mug tightens. He stays long enough to suffer through another fifteen minutes of watching you pretend he doesn’t exist before he gives up. There’s no point.

This was a stupid idea.

So he digs into his pocket, pulls out some cash, and slaps it onto the counter—more than enough for the coffee and then some.

“Keep the change,” he mutters.

Then, without another word, he turns and storms out, and second the door swings shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath.

Nari smirks, wiping her hands on her apron. “Well, that was fun.”

You don’t answer. Your chest feels tight, your hands still curled into fists.

It wasn’t fun. Not even a little bit.

Because the moment you saw him sitting there, looking at you like that, it felt like someone had cracked open your ribs and reached straight into your heart. And now, as much as you don’t want to, you feel like crying.

Nari sees it before you can even blink.

“Hey,” she says, voice softer now. She nudges you gently with her elbow. “It’s okay.”

You exhale sharply, then force yourself to meet her gaze. And then, with zero hesitation, Nari lifts her hand.

“High five?” She grins.

You hesitate for a split second before finally slapping your palm against hers.

It’s weak. Pathetic.

But it’s something..

Wednesday

Jungkook has officially lost it.

That’s the only logical conclusion. Because at this point, he’s not even in his car anymore. He’s not lurking from the shadows like some angsty movie protagonist. No.

He’s sitting outside your apartment.

Like a fucking maniac.

At first, he tells himself he’ll only stay for a little while. Just an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time to—what? What is he even expecting to happen? That you’ll step outside and suddenly decide you love him again? That you’ll take one look at his miserable ass and fold instantly?

Pathetic.

Still, he stays. And he waits. And he waits. And—

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Again.

The screen lights up with another call from his manager, who, at this point, is probably questioning whether Jungkook is alive.

He flips his phone over, setting it face-down on the concrete. Not today.

The hours pass painfully slow. He watches the sky shift from bright blue to burnt orange to deep, inky black, and still—no sign of you.

Where the fuck are you?

He pulls out his phone and checks the date.

Wednesday. Your day off.

And just like that, it hits him.

You’re out.

It’s your day off. You’re out.

How the fuck did he forget?

He groans, dragging his hands down his face. No wonder you haven’t come home yet. You’re probably off having the time of your life while he sits here like an abandoned dog.

Embarrassing.

Still, he waits. For what? He doesn’t know.

And then—finally—at 9 p.m, he hears footsteps. Loud. Stumbling. A little chaotic. And then—

Laughter.

His head snaps up just in time to see you and Nari rounding the corner, heels clicking against the pavement, arms linked.

And—

Oh.

You’re in a dress.

A tiny fucking dress.

It’s barely there, riding up your thighs, hugging every curve, glittering faintly under the dim glow of the streetlights.

And Nari? She’s just as bad. The two of you look like you’ve just walked straight out of some high-fashion editorial.

Jungkook swallows. Hard.

He should not be thinking about how good you look.

But he is.

Fuck.

Your hair is a mess. Your makeup is slightly smudged. You’re clearly tipsy, giggling at something Nari just said, your arms wrapped around each other for balance.

And yet, you’ve never looked more beautiful.

For a second, he just stares. Then—he moves.

He’s on his feet in an instant, brushing dust off his jeans as he takes a hesitant step forward.

And then—Nari spots him. Her entire face drops. “Oh, hell no.”

Jungkook freezes.

You blink blearily, head tilting. “Wait…” You squint, eyes unfocused, like you’re trying to process if he’s really there or if the alcohol is playing tricks on you. “Is that…?”

Nari tightens her grip around your waist. “Nope. It’s not.”

Jungkook steps closer. “Baby—”

“NOPE.”

You frown, blinking rapidly. “Wait, that is Jungkook, right?”

“Nope,” Nari says again, louder this time, already dragging you toward the door.

Jungkook exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, just—just let me talk to her—”

“Do I look like a fucking messenger pigeon to you?” Nari snaps. “No. Back.”

Jungkook groans, watching helplessly as Nari practically shoves you inside like she’s stuffing contraband into a duffel bag.

You, however, are still incredibly lost.

“Wait, was that Jungkook?” Your voice is muffled through the door.

“No.”

“Nari, I swear I saw—”

“You saw nothing.”

“Why would you lie to me?”

Jungkook hears you stomp your foot, and for a brief moment, he can’t tell if he wants to laugh or cry.

And then—

“NARI, I WANTED TO TALK TO HIM—”

“NO, YOU DIDN’T—”

“YES, I DID—”

“GO TO BED.”

The door slams.

Silence.

Jungkook closes his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. Nothing is working.

Absolutely fucking nothing.

Thursday

Jungkook is trapped.

Not literally. He could technically walk out of the studio if he really wanted to. He could ditch the shoot, escape into the city, do what he does best—run.

But that’s the problem. He doesn’t want to run.

He wants you.

Unfortunately, his manager has finally caught up to his little disappearing act, and now he’s paying the price. His entire Thursday is wasted inside a freezing studio, stuck in the same cycle of flashing lights, outfit changes, and fake-ass smiles for a camera he doesn’t give a single shit about anymore.

Every time a photographer tells him to “look sexy,” he just ends up looking like someone who hasn’t slept in three days. Which, fair.

Still, he goes through the motions. Poses, angles, the occasional deep sigh.

And then—finally—a break.

The moment he’s released from the studio and into the break room, he practically collapses into one of the cheap plastic chairs, head thudding against the table.

God, he’s losing his mind.

And it’s only been three days.

He groans, rubbing a hand over his face before pulling out his phone.

Nothing.

No messages. No calls.

Not from you. Not from anyone.

(Except his manager, but he’s ignoring those.)

His knee bounces beneath the table as he stares at the empty inbox, a deep frustration clawing at his ribs. He’s already tried texting. He’s already tried calling. And yesterday—he even fucking sat outside your door like a stray cat waiting for scraps, and still—nothing.

He’s getting desperate.

Which is why, against all logic, he suddenly finds himself logging into a work computer and pulling up his email.

It’s a stupid idea.

But he does it anyway.

The subject line is empty. The body of the email even more so. At first, he just types your name. Then, a single word.

Please.

And then—he hits send. A few seconds later—

Undelivered.

Jungkook stares blankly at the error message, blinking.

Oh.

That’s when he realizes—

You blocked him.

On fucking email.

His desperation reaches new, dangerous levels.

Because suddenly, he’s pulling out his phone again, fingers moving entirely on their own, searching—

For Nari’s number.

The only problem? He doesn’t have Nari’s number. So what does he do? He fucking looks it up. On Facebook. Jungkook has never felt like a creep in his entire life—until now. But it works. Because a few minutes later, he finds it.

And before he can even think—he texts her.

Jungkook [3:27 PM]: hey

Jungkook [3:28 PM]: please just tell her to talk to me

The response is immediate.

Nari [3:28 PM]: fuck off

Jungkook exhales, already feeling the migraine forming.

Jungkook [3:29 PM]: okay but like. how did u even know it was me

Nari [3:29 PM]: because i haven’t given my number to a single man since 2018 and ur the only dumbass desperate enough to go looking for it

Jungkook pauses.

She’s…not wrong.

Jungkook [3:30 PM]: yeah okay fair.

Jungkook [3:31 PM]: but can u just tell her i emailed her

Nari [3:31 PM]: LMAOOOOO

Nari [3:32 PM]: EMAIL?????

Nari [3:32 PM]: holy fuck ur down BAD

Jungkook groans, throwing his head back.

Jungkook [3:32 PM]: forget it

He slams his phone down onto the table with a loud thud, drawing the attention of literally everyone else in the break room.

A few stylists give him weird looks. One of the photographers eyes him warily over the rim of their coffee cup. Someone even mutters, “Is he okay?”

Jungkook does not care.

He’s losing his fucking mind.

——

The sound of rain pattering against the window fills the small apartment, a steady rhythm against the distant hum of the city. The lamp casts a dim glow over the living room, illuminating the two of you in the comfortable mess of your couch—half-empty takeout containers on the coffee table, a forgotten drama playing on the TV, and a blanket lazily draped over both your legs.

It should be a peaceful night.

But Nari is looking at you.

Too long. Too intently.

And you know exactly what she’s about to say.

“So,” she starts, dragging the word out as she shifts, resting her chin on her palm. “When are you gonna give in?”

You blink, turning to her. “What?”

Nari raises an eyebrow. “When are you gonna give in?” she repeats, slower this time. “Have you not seen this man has been begging for basically a week straight?”

Your stomach clenches. You grip the blanket tighter, staring down at the threads. “I—” You shake your head, voice hesitant. “I don’t know, Nari.”

“You don’t know?” she repeats, incredulous. “Girl. Are you blind?”

You shoot her a glare. “No, I’m not blind.”

“You sure?” She gestures wildly with her hands. “Because from where I’m sitting, I see a man who’s been wrecking himself for you. Like, he’s practically on his knees at this point.”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “And then what, Nari?” Your voice wavers as you look at her. “What do I do after this week? After this month? What do we do when he leaves?” The words come out sharper than you intended, but you don’t stop. “He’s got what—three days and one week? And then what? He’s gone. For nearly two years.”

Nari’s face softens, but she doesn’t back down. “I get it. I do,” she says. “But look at him. He’s destroying himself for you.”

Your throat tightens. You want to argue, but you can’t. Because you’ve seen it, too.

The way he lingers outside your door like a ghost of something you once knew. The way he shows up at the diner, his eyes desperate, hopeful, even when you glare at him like he’s the last person on Earth you want to see. The way his voice trembled when he called you, pleading.

It’s breaking him.

And the worst part?

It’s breaking you, too.

Nari hesitates, lips pressing together, like she wants to say something else. Then, she sighs, shaking her head. “Just—just think about it, okay?”

You don’t respond.

Nari stands, stretching before grabbing her bag. “I’m gonna go home now,” she says, and her voice is gentler this time. “Love you. Bye.”

You barely manage to whisper back, “Love you, too.”

Then the door clicks shut, and you’re left alone.

Alone with your thoughts.

And the lingering scent of rain through the open window.

Friday

Jungkook doesn’t even realize he’s driven to the field until his feet hit the dirt. Like instinct. Muscle memory. Like the universe pulled him here before he even made the choice.

The air is crisp, biting at his skin, but he barely notices. He just stands there, staring at the spot where he fell in love with you. The same stretch of grass. The same quiet wind. The same fucking daisies that keep growing back no matter what.

Like nothing ever happened.

Like he didn’t fucking ruin everything.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. His chest feels tight. Maybe if he stands here long enough, he’ll wake up and this will have all been a bad dream. Maybe—

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jungkook turns, and there, standing a few feet away, is Nari.

In full hot pink running gear.

It’s ridiculous. Blinding, even. Especially considering the fact that it’s mid-winter, and she’s standing in the middle of this field—the field—like she owns the place.

He tries—really tries—to stifle his laugh, but a smirk twitches at his lips.

“Of course you’re here,” he mutters.

“Of course I’m here?” Nari scoffs, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re the one who followed me, you fucking stalker. Or should I say, following YN?”

“I didn’t—” Jungkook shakes his head. “I didn’t even know you’d be here.”

Nari narrows her eyes. “Yeah. What a coincidence.” Then she shrugs. “Good. I was hoping I’d find you.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Because I’m so fucking sick of watching my best friend cry over you every night.”

His stomach clenches. His heart twists so painfully he swears it physically aches. He swallows. “Why are you even here anyway?”

Nari scoffs again. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. This stupid field.” She gestures vaguely at the open space, unimpressed. “I get it. It’s nice for runs.”

Jungkook deadpans. “You don’t even run.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna start,” she snaps back. “Whatever.”

She rips off her hot pink sweatband dramatically and points a finger at him. “Come on. Let’s talk, then.”

But neither of them actually end up talking.

Nari just stands there, casually taking selfies, the picture of someone who couldn’t care less. And Jungkook—Jungkook just stands there, watching her, the weight of everything pressing down on him.

Until he can’t take it anymore. Until it breaks him.

His knees hit the ground.

It’s not graceful. It’s not planned. It just happens. Like his body physically can’t hold it in anymore.

“Please.” His voice cracks. “Please, Nari. I can’t do this anymore. I— I can’t.”

Nari gasps.

“LITERALLY NO FUCKING WAY,” she blurts out, eyes wide as she stares down at him.

Jungkook doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he looks pathetic, that she’s witnessing this downward spiral in real time. He just—he just needs.

“Please,” he begs again, voice raw. “Help me. I don’t— I don’t know what else to do. Please, Nari, I—”

Don’t think she’s not basking in this.

Nari thrives in power over a man, and this? This is once-in-a-lifetime content. Jungkook fucking Jeon—international superstar, golden boy, rich, famous, untouchable—is on his knees in the dirt, begging her for help.

She’s biting back laughter. Hard.

And she drags it out.

Because why the fuck wouldn’t she?

But then—then Jungkook looks up, his eyes shining, his voice so genuinely broken, and—

Okay. She might actually feel bad now.

Nari sighs, shaking her head. “Alright, alright, get up,” she mutters. “I’ll help.”

Jungkook’s head snaps up so fast she’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. His eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes. “I was just making you beg a little longer.”

Jungkook just stares at her, then lets out this half-laugh, half-disbelieving breath. “You’ve been so mean to me.”

Nari shrugs. “Yeah, well. You deserve it.”

After a beat, nobody’s moved.

Jungkook realizes this after a few seconds of silence. They’re both still standing there, neither of them making a move to leave or—well, do anything.

And Nari’s just staring at him.

Like she’s waiting.

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, suddenly a little nervous to ask. But then, quietly, hesitantly, he whispers—

“So… what are we doing then?” His voice is barely audible. “Like, uh—what’s the plan?”

Nari grins.

“Alright, listen up, loser,” she says, cracking her knuckles. “Here’s the deal. We’re going to the supermarket. You’re gonna get flowers. I’m gonna get her favorite snacks. You’re also gonna buy her a fucking plushie—whatever one we can find in the goddamn store. Then, we’re driving to her apartment. You’re going to stand in front of her door. I’m going to push you inside and slam the door. Got it?”

She blurts it all out so fast that Jungkook just… blinks. “Wait,” he says slowly. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Nope. Don’t care.”

Jungkook frowns. “That’s a lot,” he insists. “That—feels like an invasion of privacy.”

Nari huffs. “I don’t care. If this is what you both really want—which it clearly is—then I’m making it happen. I don’t care if she hates me for it. We’re doing it.”

Jungkook hesitates. Then he nods, running a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he mutters. “Okay, fine.”

Nari claps her hands together. “Great. Where’s your car?”

Jungkook hesitates again. Then, instead of answering, he turns… and kneels down into the grass.

For the second damn time today.

“Wait,” he says, reaching for the ground. “I need to pick the flowers from here.”

Nari squints. “What.”

“I need to pick them from here,” he repeats, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Nari just stares at him. “Jungkook, we do not have time for this.”

“Supermarket flowers are dead and lifeless,” he argues. “These have meaning.”

“Oh my God,” Nari groans. “We are literally about to have a whole-ass argument over flowers.”

“They’re not just flowers,” Jungkook insists, still kneeling in the grass. “They’re her flowers.”

Nari physically throws her head back in frustration. “Jungkook, I swear to God, get your sentimental ass up—”

She lunges forward and drags him up by his hoodie. Jungkook groans in protest, but she doesn’t let go until she’s physically forcing him toward the car.

And finally, finally, they drive to the supermarket.

Jungkook hates it here.

He stares at the saddest display of dead flowers, muttering to himself about how they have “no-life-having-ass” energy. Eventually, he just grabs the next best thing—the least ugliest daisies, which don’t even smell good.

“These are dying.” He pouts, turning the bouquet in his hand.

“Like your relationship,” Nari retorts “C’mon.”

Nari watches him grumble to himself with an exasperated sigh before grabbing a basket and aggressively pelting it full of your favorite snacks.

Jungkook eyes the growing pile, suspicious. “This is a lot,” he points out.

“Yeah?” Nari says, completely unbothered.

“I feel like some of this is for you,” he squints.

“Obviously,” Nari deadpans. “Now go pay.”

And he does.

They’re barely back in the car for one minute before Nari’s eyes widen.

“WAIT—”

Jungkook nearly slams on the brakes. “What?”

“You forgot the fucking plushie!” she screeches, smacking his arm.

Jungkook’s eyes bulge. “Shit.”

“GO BACK! GO BACK RIGHT NOW!”

“What?! Nari—*”

“Jungkook, go back before I throw myself out of this car!”

He panics. Without thinking, he throws the car into reverse and zooms back into the parking lot, nearly missing a traffic cone on the way. He parks so fast that the tires squeal against the pavement.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Nari yells.

Jungkook barely hears her—he’s already sprinting back inside the supermarket, dodging carts and random shoppers like he’s in a goddamn action movie.

He skids to a stop in the toy aisle, eyes darting wildly over the selection. “Shit, shit, shit—”

And then, he sees it.

A tiny, bright yellow plushie in the shape of a flower. Clearly a toy meant for toddlers, but he doesn’t care. He grabs it and rushes back to the register, swiping his card so fast that the cashier blinks at him like he’s insane.

By the time he throws himself back into the car, he’s out of breath. “Okay, got it,” he pants, shoving it in Nari’s direction.

Nari blinks down at the obviously kids plushie.

“Whatever, this will do,” she decides.

Jungkook frowns, still catching his breath. “You think she’ll still love it?”

Nari snorts. “Honestly?” She shrugs. “She’ll like anything that’s yellow and squishy.”

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling to himself. “She definitely would.”

——

The drive to your apartment is excruciating.

Jungkook grips the wheel like it’s his lifeline, knuckles white, jaw tight. The flowers and snacks sit on Nari’s lap, but she’s unbothered, scrolling through her phone, humming along to the radio.

Casual. Carefree. Like she’s not about to shove him into the biggest confrontation of his life.

Then—

Crunch.

Jungkook snaps his head to the side.

Nari is eating.

His fucking snacks.

“Nari.”

She glances at him, mid-chew. “What?”

Jungkook glares. “Seriously?”

She shrugs, taking another bite. “You got extras.”

Jungkook sighs, exasperated. “They’re for her.”

“It’s fine,” she says, waving him off. “She’s not gonna eat all of them at once. Jesus.”

Jungkook grips the wheel tighter. He should be focusing on the fact that he’s about to beg for his life. That he’s got one chance left before you walk out of his world forever.

But no.

He’s watching Nari inhale a family-sized bag of chips.

The injustice.

By the time they arrive, Jungkook is practically hyperventilating. The second the car stops, he reaches for the gear shift.

“I’ll come back tomorrow—”

Nari lunges.

She yanks the keys from the ignition, snatching them so fast he doesn’t even see her hand move.

Jungkook gawks.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Nari says, shoving open her door. “You’re doing this now.”

Jungkook stays seated.

Nari pauses. Then— “Get the fuck out of the car, Jungkook.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. Nari sighs. “Do you want me to drag you? Because we know how that went last time.”

“…Maybe.”

“Jesus Christ.” She yanks open his door, gripping his arm and physically pulling him out. Jungkook whines.

“Nari, I can’t—”

“You will.”

He digs his heels into the pavement.

“I need a second—”

“You don’t.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow—”

“You won’t.”

She drags him up the stairs. Jungkook stumbles, nearly dropping the daisies. By the time they reach your door, Jungkook is panting. He shakes his head, gripping the flowers like they might save him.

Nari rounds on him. “You have one week now, Jungkook. One. And you spent the past week, all of it doing stupid shit.”

Jungkook stares at the door, stomach twisting. “I—”

Nari doesn’t wait. She knocks.

Jungkook freezes.

The wait is excruciating.

[dbnightingale24]

What Cha Doin' To Me?

A Lloyd Hansen Love Strory

~~

~~

I told you guys it was coming and I meant it! My life has been such a shit show, and I'm so sorry this took so damn long! Between my Father being rushed to the hospital, and work being a shit show, I barely had time to breathe. HOWEVER, the final installation of this story is finally here! I honestly think I hate ending some of these stories because I invest so much into the characters :/ . Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the final part to this series! I may or may not have another Lloyd series in the works for you all...

Word Count: 33,581 (You know how I am at this point)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), murder, drinking, self hate depression, FLUFF, Arguing, Family drama, Best Friends to Lovers, Hatred, Swearing, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, So On and So Forth....

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: If Control Is My Religion, Then I'm Headed For Collision

Summary: For as much as Lloyd's life and business screw up your life, it's never enough for you to walk away. So now, you have to figure out how to deal with it, or if you even can at all.

~~

I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior/relationship. This is purely for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

“Why are you here?” you muttered, not looking up from your textbook as Lloyd plopped down on your bed.

“You didn’t come to my game, Sugar.”

“When do I ever go to your games? Didn’t you win, anyway?”

“Of course I did,” he chuckled and closed your book.

You scowled in annoyance and cut your eyes at him, “so shouldn’t you be out celebrating, or harassing some girl?”

“I wanted to celebrate with you.”

“Lloyd, I don’t feel like doing this with you today. Go away.”

“You know you love me.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“I love you.”“Lloyd, you don’t love anyone but yourself. Don’t bother me with your bullshit today, please.”

Anger flashed in his eyes as he took your face in his hand, “don’t ever say that to me again, you understand me?”

“Lloyd-”

“I mean it, Y/N. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. And I never will.”

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed with eye roll.

“I mean it, Y/N. You’re everything to me and you should know that by now. There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, and that will never change. I love you; even when you don’t want to hear it,” he promised sincerely.

All traces of humor withdrew from his face and you could see that he was dead serious. 

“I love you too, Lloyd.”

He said nothing as he pushed your books off the bed and pulled you onto his lap, your back against his chest, as he held you firmly. He pressed a kiss to the back of your ear and rested his head against the back of yours. 

“No matter what, Y/N; I will always love you,” he promised you softly.

Why did college have to end? All of this shit was so much simpler back when you both were young and didn’t have to worry about such grown up issues. Even when it was Hell, it was better than this.

“Lloyd, I know you’re angry but calm down,” Denny sighs, hands on his hips, and you can tell he’s exhausted.

You can’t blame him. After everything happened, Lloyd was quick to pack you and Rose (along with of a few of your belongings) into his car, and race to Denny’s house. Lloyd swore up a storm while Rose cried in the backseat and you had a stress migraine the size of Delaware building inside your head; because of course.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” Lloyd roars, and you cringe as you sip your drink while Dana rubs your back. “That cunt came after my family, and you want me to calm down?! If it happened to you-”

“They’re my family too! You two are all Dana and I have with the exception of Charlie! I play it just as close to the chest as you do! I’m furious! However, we can’t just run into this based on emotions alone, especially now, she’ll expect it. So calm the fuck down, and we’ll come up with a plan.”

“Denny-”

“Calm down!”

You don’t even try to stop the tears as they come streaming down your face. Dana wraps you in a tight hug.

“It’s gonna be okay, babe. Just take deep breaths,” she coos, trying to calm you down.

“Rose almost died and it’s my fault-”

“It’s not. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Why not?! It’s true!”

“Jesus, I know what happened tonight is awful, but the security? Denny, work on that shit,” Charlie snaps as she makes her way to you and enveloping you in a hug. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. No one can do anything. I’m a terrible guardian.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!”

“She almost died-”

“But she didn’t. From what I hear, you were pretty fucking brave. Yeah, Lloyd is the one who went out there but you were armed and ready, too. There isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for that girl and all of us know that. And so does Rose. You’re so far from being a terrible guardian, so don’t put yourself down. How’s the little one doing?”

“She’s asleep upstairs. I held and rocked her while we watched ‘Sailor Moon’ until she passed out. God, I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do on Monday-” “She’s not going to school,” Lloyd interjects. “I don’t trust any of those fucks to keep her safe.”

“Well, what do you want me to do, Lloyd?! She has to go to school. She has to receive a fucking education! We can’t stop taking her because-”

“We can home school her!”

“And who’s to say that’s not as much of a threat as her going to school? Sophia clearly knows what she’s doing, she got her people in the house already once, so literally nothing is safe!” you yell, almost sneering.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking put this on me-”

“Lloyd, I swear to GOD, you better not be absolving yourself right now. Don’t go there.”

“I’m sorry, did I not try to keep from all of this crazy shit? Did I not-”

“WHO MARRIED THE BITCH OUT OF SPITE?! WASN’T ME!” you scream at him as he slightly recoils. “It wasn’t some fucking terrorist that did this, or an angry employee, it was your fucking wife! If you could’ve just stopped being a fucking child for five seconds, this wouldn’t have happened! She’s your fucking wife and I’m the whore you play house with! Now look at where we are!” you sniffle while your tears resume flowing.

It feels like the world stops spinning, just for a moment. You know that the last thing you need to be doing right now is blaming Lloyd, but you just have so many damn emotions and you don’t know what to do with them. No, Lloyd isn’t your punching bag, but he’s the only person you can share the blame with, even if this is on you.

You could’ve been stronger. You should’ve been stronger. Yes, Lloyd is the love of your life, but Rose is your world. That should have dominated any and all feelings you have towards Lloyd. For as much as you want to pass the blame, you can’t and don’t. This is on you.

“Sugar-”

“Do NOT fucking ‘Sugar’ me right now! You married her just to fucking spite me and now look! Susan and Bernie are dead and she almost-”

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to her!”

“You’re not God, Lloyd! You can’t keep us safe simply because you want to! That’s not how this shit works! You wanted to keep me safe from all of the terrible people in the world, remember? So how is it that the worst one turns out to have your last name?!”

“Sugar-”

“I can’t fucking look at you right now,” you scoff, getting up and storming out of Denny’s office. “Fix this,” you snap at him before leaving the room, with Charlie and Dana on your heels. 

You know you owe him the biggest apology. You also know you’ve made him feel like the biggest pile of shit, but you can’t find it in yourself to apologize at the moment. You can’t find it in yourself to give him a break because he’s never given you one. 

“I feel like I’m being split into two,” you sob sitting on the kitchen floor.

“That’s a fair emotion to feel right now,” Charlie sighs, sitting beside you as Dana pours three glasses of whiskey. “She’s safe, Y/N. That’s all that matters.”

You sigh as you run a frustrated hand through your hair, “I shouldn’t have attacked Lloyd like that.”

“He deserves-”

“No, he really doesn’t. Hes stepped up in ways that I didn’t even think were possible. He treats Rose as if she’s his own daughter. He loves her to her core. He loves me unconditionally. He always has. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. He’s already hurting and I had...he doesn’t need that right now.”

“You both always find a way to work things out, and I know this won’t be any different. You guys just need time,” Dana reassures you as she gives both you and Charlie filled glasses before sitting on the floor herself.

You roll your eyes after you take your sip. “You don’t even like Lloyd.”

“As if that’s ever stopped you,” Dana laughs, “you two were made for each other.”

“What if we fell in love with normal men? What if we just decided to choose simplicity?”

“We’d still be on the floor, drinking our emotions away,” Dana sighs as you and Charlie burst out laughing.

Sometimes all you really need is your best friends.

~~

“You could just come to a party,” Lloyd sighed as he jogged up to you.

“You could just accept that, that’s not my scene.”

“Why? Because it’s out of your comfort zone?”

“Lloyd, college is out of my comfort zone. I just have no desire to go to a mindless, meaningless college party.”

“Well, what do you wanna do tonight?”

“Drink too much, eat too much, and watch a black and white movie. Or Sailor Moon”

“You have the strangest taste in entertainment, Sugar,” he laughed, “but I’ll be here.”

“Why don’t you actually go and do things you enjoy?” you scoffed as you two reached your dorm room.

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you go to the parties or go see one of your many girlfriends?”

“Sugar, I only ever want to spend my time with you. Yeah, I get my dick wet sometimes, but that’s only because you won’t let me inside.”

“Lloyd.”

“Fact of the matter is that I always want to spend all of my time with you. I love you.”

You roll around, groaning, as you try and shake off the rest of the memory. It feels like forever ago. Your eyes flutter open and you try to remember how you even got to bed.

“I carried you up,” Lloyd mumbles, as if he’s reading your mind, and you jump. “You practically melted onto the kitchen floor.”

You look to him before looking down at your hands. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry. I ruined-”

“Lloyd, I was really out of line. I had no right to say what I said-”

“Yes you did-”

“I made the choice, Lloyd. That’s on me. I can’t blame you for decisions I make.”  

“It’s not like I gave you much-”

“For as much as you’re a dick, you only go as far as I allow. You didn’t force me into this. I’m in love with you, and I know I always have been. I just needed someone to yell at because I felt miserable, and you were there. I made you my punching bag and that was wrong.”

He sighs as he takes a seat next to you on the bed. “It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

“Lloyd, we have both hurt each other in big and small ways-”

“Sugar, I provoke you. You rightfully tell me when I’m being a piece of shit and I lash out.”

“I know, and still choose you over everyone. I can’t blame you for the choices I’ve made. I actively chose you and, if given the chance, I’d do it again. I can’t yell at you for a decision I made consciously.”

“If you want out, now is-”

“What’s the point?” you laugh humorlessly. “Everyone knows it. Breaking up won’t change the fact that people know how much I mean to you. It won’t stop Sophia. I’m all in and we...we’ll do everything we can to keep Rose safe. By the way, where is Rose?”

“Denny and Dana took her out, to try and get her mind off of things for a  bit,” he sighs, pulling you over and onto his lap. “I want us to work, Sugar. I’ve never been afraid of anything, but losing you and now with Rose in the picture...I’m trying my best here.”

“I know you are, baby,” you mumble, laying your head on his shoulder. “I promise to never do what I did last night-”

“You had every right, Sugar. This is my fault. Sophia was never anything more to me than a distraction. I had no business marrying her, but I was hurt. It hurt that you didn’t give me what I wanted, but you were taking yourself out of the picture completely. How can I blame you? When we were younger, it was one thing, but actually committing to you...I was terrified of fucking this up. Hell, I’m still terrified of fucking this up. So, when everything went to shit, I knew I couldn’t just throw money at you or buy your affection. It never worked in the past, so I knew it wasn’t going to work now. I was so focused on finding the right way to go about approaching you that I stopped focusing. If I had been paying closer attention, like I know how to do, none of this would be happening and Rose would still have her grandparents.”

“Lloyd-”

“Just...I tried to downplay my feelings for you when we first met because I wasn’t sure what the hell I was feeling. You were so small, but you had so much fire inside,” he chuckles softly and you bashfully grin in return. “Yeah, I thought you were gorgeous, but I was in awe of you. No one had ever spoken to me like that; no one ever called me on my shit. Women always got turned on by me being a douche bag, and guys have always been too afraid to challenge me...for the most part. You didn’t even hesitate and you weren’t afraid. From day one I was obsessed, and I’m afraid its only gotten worse over time.”

“Ya don’t say,” you tease, gaining a small laugh from him.

“You’ve just...you’ve always been the one person who can make or break me, Sugar. I know I’m an asshole, I’m selfish, I’m cruel, and a million other terrible things but you find a way to turn all that off. It terrifies me, you terrify me, and I don’t know how to be without that. Without you. I love you, Y/N. I am so insanely and madly in love with you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this, because it’s not what I wanted. At all. I had it all worked out in my head and then...then I fucked it up. I can’t fix all of the shit I did in the past, but I can promise you a better future.”

“Lloyd, it’s not like I don’t believe you. I know we want the same thing, but are you sure you can do this? It won’t be just me that you hurt if-”

He chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head, “Sugar, you don’t understand, it’s like I told Sophia the other night: everyone was just a filler because I couldn’t have you. You’re the only woman I’ve had to work this hard for, and for as much as I love that, I really fucking hate it,” he scowls and you burst out laughing. “All of the other flings and ‘relationships’ were just vanity and me attempting to get over you when you were in a new relationship. My endgame was always leaving whoever it was I was with if you were around. The only reason Sophia stuck was because you were in your last real relationship for so long that I wanted to hurt you, or at best, annoy you. I had to give you my best shot. I was gonna breakup with her that night we went to that steakhouse for dinner, but...”

“But what?”

“Something about the way you and that waiter spoke to each other- I know you weren’t flirting, Sugar,” he reassures as you scowl. “I just...it’s so easy for you to find anyone. As much as I’d like believe differently, you don’t need me. Even in your darkest hours, you’ve always been so sure of yourself and strong... and for as much as you hated whatever situation you were dealing with, you handled it like it didn’t even phase you. After my first day of irritating you, I was hooked, I needed more.”

“Lloyd-”

“Believe it or not, I tried to avoid you for two weeks, but it was pointless. Trying to stay away from you has always felt pointless because I’ve always needed you.”

“Lloyd...I love you so much, but this...us. You’ve got to be all in on this. Last night wasn’t so much about us being attacked as it was who did it. I know that being with you comes with risks, and I have no choice but to accept them. It was more because of who and why it escalated to the level it did. You have to cut this shit out for good. It’s not just you and me. Rose is everything to me, and shes already lost so much. You wouldn’t just be hurting me, you’d crush her because she thinks the world of you. You have to grow up. So don’t say all of these things and make all of these promises, if you can’t keep them, Lloyd,” you sob softly.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he holds you tighter. “I’m all in, Sugar. I swear on my life, I won’t fuck this up. I want this with you. I want everything with you. I just need you to give me time to fix this, Sugar. Can you give me that? Can you trust me enough?”

“Lloyd...”

“I know, Sugar. I’ve fucked up a lot and I’ve hurt you, but you know that my heart is yours. It’s always been yours, and you know that.”

“I’m not dealing with you hooking up with-”

“I won’t even kiss her, Sugar. I’m working out a plan with Denny, and when we have all the information, I’m gonna setup a dinner.”

“None of this falls back on Rose.”

“Of course.”

“I mean it, Lloyd.”

“I know it’s a big ask, but please trust me.”

“I trust you, Lloyd,” you promise sincerely.

He presses another soft kiss to your forehead and sighs in contentment, “I love you, Sugar.”

“I love you so much, Lloyd.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“Can we just stay like this for a while? It’s been so long since we’ve had a calm moment.”

Lloyd takes in your scent and rests his chin on the top of your head. “We can do whatever you want.”

You wonder if this is what happiness feels like, simply laying around with the one you love the most. You know the road ahead is going to be long and bumpy, but with Lloyd truly by your side for the first time, it doesn’t feel impossible. For the first time ever, you finally see the hint of morning light after what feels like a lifetime of tempests. 

Lloyd’s P.O.V.

“There you are, Sugar! Been lookin’ all over for you for weeks!” I lied with a slick grin.

The truth of the matter is that I’d been watching your every move, not sure if I should pursue you or not.

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Lloyd,” with pure disdain.

I fuckin love it.

“So you have heard of me.”

“Kind of hard to miss the way every girl talks about the biggest asshole on campus. Didn’t take long to figure you out.”

“Awh Sugar, I’ve never done anything to you.”

“I plan to keep it that way.”

“Of all the ornery females.”

“Fun fact: women don’t like being called ‘females’.”

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Lloyd? Leave me alone.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

“You’re insufferable, did you know that?”

I chuckled before I tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “and yet you suffer me fine. Dare I say that you make suffering look good?”

All signs lead to that I should’ve left you alone, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t then and I can’t now. I was in love with you. I will always be in love with you. You’re the only anchor I have in this life, and you’ll always be the only person I can be my real and true self with. I really have tried to turn it off time and time again, but I can’t. All I see in this life, and I’m sure in any other life, is you. 

I want to be better for you, and should be better for you, but I can’t; not yet anyway. I’ll figure it out though, because I don’t know how to live a life that you’re not in, and I don’t want to find out. My life only makes sense when you’re in it.

“Uncle Lloyd,” Rose asks softly, pulling on my hand which tugs me back into the world in front of my eyes.

“What’s up, Buttercup?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“What do you do for a living?”

It was bound to happen sooner or later. Might as well get it out of the way now.

“I work for the government.” She stops and deadpans me. “Uncle Lloyd.”

I can’t stop myself from laughing a little, “I do.”

“I might be 10, but I know there’s more to it than that.”

“I do jobs that most people can’t.”

“Do you hurt people?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

“You shouldn’t ask people that, they might find it rude.”

“That means yes,” she mutters.

I get down on one knee and focus her attention on me, “I would never hurt you or Twinkle, Buttercup. I would never let anyone hurt either of you.”

“Someone did try and-”

“Exactly, they tried. I’ll never let anything like that happen again, I promise.”

“Are you going to stay?”

“As long as Twinkle will have me,” I laugh softly.

“I want us to be a real family,” she admits sheepishly, and I hate how much it pulls at my heartstrings.

“Working on it, Buttercup. I promise.”

“Are you gonna ask her?”

“When the time is right and everything’s sorted.”

“Do you have the ring?”

“Not yet.”

“Then why are we going for ice cream? You need to find the perfect ring, and I know just the one!” 

“You think she’ll say yes?”

“Over and over again,” Rose smiles. 

“Now, I have a question and I want you to answer me truthfully.”

She nods, “I promise.” 

“I know Twinkle is your legal guardian, and we both just established that I’m gonna propose, but...”

Jesus, why the fuck am I so nervous? I’ve killed world leaders before. I can fucking do this. Commitment, man. What a thing.

“We’ve both established that I’m going to propose,” I repeat, trying to steady my nerves, “but...do you want...are you okay with...fucking hell-don’t repeat that,” I tell her sternly as she giggles. “What I’m trying to ask is...do you want me to be your legal guardian, too? Do you want me to adopt you?”

She wraps her tiny arms around my neck, and gives me the tightest hug she can muster before kissing me on the cheek. “YES!”

Love has turned me into the softest scab because I can’t believe I’m fighting off tears. This is why I hate kids.

“Are you sure, Buttercup? You can tell me-”

“I’ve never really had a Dad,” she sniffles, backing up after letting go of me. “I guess I’ve never really had a Mom either. I had my grandparents, but they were always my grandparents, not my parents. With you and Twinkle, in an odd way, it feels like you both are my parents. We act like a family, we do things that a family would. Twinkle is my best friend in the world, and you...you fit. Whenever you’re around, I feel like we’ve found the missing piece. I know you and Twinkle went through some bad stuff, and I know that’s hard, but I’m happiest when we’re all together. I want you to adopt me, because you and Twinkle feel like home,” she finishes with a big smile and wide eyes, looking more hopeful than she has in days. 

Now I’m the one crying and hugging her. Fuck, when did this become the life that I want? Fuckin’ kids.

Before you, the idea of wanting any of this felt so foreign to me. Now I crave it. I need to be a family, I need to marry you, and I need to keep you both close. I don’t know how I’ll survive any of this without you. Why the hell did it take me so long to understand? We could’ve gotten to this so much faster if I’d just gone after you the way I always wanted to.

Fuck me.

“Here’s what we’ll do: I know it’s gonna take some time, but I’ll wait until after I propose to ask her about adopting you, okay? I think we should look at rings today, find a good one and take picture of it. We’ll send it to Charlie and Dana, and see what they think, too. What do you think?” I sniffle with a smile.

“It’s perfect!”

“Lets get to the jewelry store then,” I chuckle, standing up and wiping my eyes.

“Really?”

“You said you know the perfect ring. Lead the way,” I laugh softly.

“Uncle Lloyd?” she calls softly, taking my hand.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttercup.”

I never thought I’d be a family man, and I never wanted to be a family, but you? You’ve changed everything, and now there’s no going back. There’s honestly nothing that will make me happier or more content than starting a life with you. You and Rose are my home, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you two always know and live that truth. The first step is to kill my first my wife. The second?

Securing my future with you and Rose and letting the adventure begin.

~~

Read the rest here...

[steamingstewchunks]

Op this is amazing.

Like, straight up. It's so cute and lovely, I just,, you get all of them so so correct, I too am a firm believer that Bulkhead knows what he's doing in the kitchen, and that we needed more fucking scenes of them genuinely taking care of Sari, like,,,, they know she needs to eat sleep and get schooling, but if I remember correctly, we only see the eat and sleep part. Was she getting any sort of schooling, via them or the tutor bot???

I wanna see Optimus being awake late into the night just to hear little Sari shuffle into the room and ask "can we get milkshakes?" But she sounds like she's been crying so of course they get milkshakes and he drinks a barrel while she has her Oreo double whip cream large shake that is in no way good for her but it makes her happy right then.

I wanna see prowl like,,, see her struggle with multiplication and step in only to get confused on the word problems because,

"why do they need that many cupcakes for a birthday party? Only three kids are attending?"

"that's what I'm sayin!"

I want bumblebee to take her to the parks for the socialization part of childhood, only for her total lack of socialization to be incredibly apparent, leading to her either fighting kids or getting bullied and Bumblebee either has to calm her down and talk to her or talk to the parents, (since she's still like, eight years old, and being eight years old with no social skills is rough when you hang with other eight year olds with social skills)

Ratchet could absolutely help when Sari shuts down, doesn't know how to talk anymore, afraid to move because everything is so overwhelming that she simply just freezes. Say she broke something of his, but really she didn't, I mean didn't mean it, but she can't even muster up an apology because Ratchet had raised his voice a little too high, it was a bad day for him too, but, but, but, he stops, and genuinely apologizes while helping her come back out of that shell that clamped down around her. She's not used to discipline, she can't be, she was raised Mostly by non-sentient robots that couldn't even attempt actual discipline.

It's showing, but I have certain feelings for Isaac Sumdac best attempt at parenting, and the obvious neglect that happened because he simply didn't know what to do.

Along with the food, Bulkhead probably really does help when Sari has too many emotions. She's a sassy, petty little kid, there's no doubt so so many emotions about living with aliens after your dad's kidnapped, your home taken from you, and like,,, living with people you've known for like half a year. Sits with her when she needs to get something out, has paper and pencils, crayons, just supplies out to either write or draw, and just sits with her. He's focused on his art (and her), providing a calmer environment while she just ... Feels things.

Sorry this whole thing got outta hand, I just have so many feelings about these guys and the little girl they've literally adopted at one point.

so i just realized something. while sari was living with the autobots in season 2 she had to eat.. and im sure she was able to pull off plenty of “hey can we get mcdonalds after this fight”’s but most definitely i think the autobots know humans survive off of more than just hamburgers and candy bars so what im saying is for the love of g0d where were my scenes of the whole of team prime going grocery shopping and learning how to cook

[yuttikkele]

S2E1 Amok Time: AKA we finally get to learn more about the vulcans because spock's on his period. or he's going through heat. whichever terminology makes this synopsis funnier to you.

alright here we go. the episode i have been recommended to watch the most. could it possibly be gayer than "when i feel friendship for you, i'm ashamed." ?

OH MY GOSH. MOODY MUCH, SPOCK? Yelling, throwing the bowl at the wall, storming out of the room. Well, at least he didn’t overreact guys.

DID THE OPENING THEME CHANGE?? It’s gotten more EPIC. and VOCAL-LY. DEFOREST KELLEY MENTION

Theodore Sturgeon and Joseph Pevney, do you know what you’ve done?

The brattiness of Spock is transferring over to Jim. The repeat of “In all the years that I’ve known you” was despicable.

Spock pulling the “I am fine” card is so awful bro EVERYONE knows you’re not fine.

*spock gets called off of the bridge* Ooooo. Mr. Spock’s in troubleeeee.

Spock looks like an adult that has to go to the doctor alone for the first time.

WHY DID SULU LOOK SO WORRIED WHEN CHEKOV SAID HE WAS GONNA GET SPACE SICK BAHAHAHA

Well chekov I’m sorry to say I think we might be changing course again.

Why did Spock even wait this long to try and get to Vulcan

“No use to ask him, Jim, he won’t talk.” Watch him talk.

DOES SPOCK HAVE A DAUGHTER??? (yutti note. That was not his daughter that was younger T’Pring)

“It has to do with biology.” WOAH. REALLY SPOCK? I HAD NO IDEA! IT'S LIKE THIS WHOLE TIME WE'VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT YOUR BIOLOGY. /sarcasm

Well look at that. He talked.

I think this is supposed to be a comedic scene or something but the unfitting doom and gloom music over it somehow makes it even FUNNIER. Like the biology of Vulcans is REALLY scary guys… you better watch out..

The way Vulcans chose their mates ISN’T logical? Well color me surprised I wasn’t expecting that. (yutti note. it's not logical but they've set up traditions that make it logical. they done loopholed it into being logical)

Jim is really considering this. This Vulcan biology. He’s thinking hard about it.

I wanna know who thought, “Aw yeah, we need a whole episode dedicated to talking about Spock’s sex life.” that resulted in this episode existing.

what is this whole thing with nurse chapel and spock

“By tradition the male is accompanied by his closest friend.” D’awwww

DANG THAT WOMAN IS GORGEOUS (t'pring)

EVERYONE SIDE EYEING AND LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THOSE STANTWT MEMES WHEN SPOCK SAYS “my wife” BAHAHAHAHA

“Hot as Vulcan” yeah now I know what that phrase means too, McCoy (I have never heard that phrase before)

Arranged marriage at the ripe age of 7 years old? Ok I guess. whatever you say

*POINTS AT SCREEN* OH OH OH THAT’S THE HAND SIGN!!! 🖖🖖

T'Pau: “How do you pledge their behavior?” Spock: “With my life.” Kirk: *looks over at McCoy*. KIRK DO NOT CAUSE SPOCK TO DIE.

“What is it what happened?” Kirk says just like I do at football games.

That one Vulcan background guy (Stonn) is so funny why does he keep looking around like HE doesn’t know what’s going on.

I wanna know WHY she chose Kirk. Did she not want the other guy (stonn) no more? Is she just doing this for fun? Did she feel threatened by Kirk, so she wants Spock to kill him? “Oh? You like him so much? Kill him so I have your full loyalty." type beat?

Spock is managing to talk trying to protect Jim :00

Sorry to interrupt the mating ritual, but Spock’s hitting an insanely devious pose rn

Oh of course Kirk immediately gets a boob window

They're bleeding. His bibis are bleeding.

NO SPOCK. SPOCK’S MORTIFIED. SPOCK IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT, IT’S VULCAN BIOLOGY.

spock were you jealous of ston just then??

Oh miss girl T’Pring had this ALL worked out. Not in Spock’s favor obviously. But a girl gotta do what a girl gotta do.

Did Spock just tell Stonn that having T’Pring isn’t as marvelous as it seems? With T’Pring right there?? BRO.

SPOCK WAS SO HAPPY TO SEE JIM awwww

MCCOY YOU GENIUS. I would’ve been saying bye bye to Kirk then and there. all "guess we'll have to find a new captain" and everything. good thing he's a doctor.

“When I thought I had killed the captain, I had lost all interest in T’Pring.” Gaywad.

ohhh ok so, Spock told Stonn having isn't as good as wanting not because he dislikes t'pring or dislikes having her, but because he got over his vulcan heat or whatever and no longer was drawn to her. ok that makes more sense. still a little bit of a diss to her but whatever. really can't possibly be worse than having to live married to a man who's never there

Ooo a new end credits too!!

ok. gonna be honest. my thoughts? i don't feel like this was entirely incredibly that gay. it was gay, but I don't think it was gayer than "when i feel friendship for you, i'm ashamed." and i might get yelled at for this deduction and told about how it is oh so gay and i might be like "oh i didn't notice that, that is very gay!" but i think one thing stays the same: there's just nothing gayer than yearning.

HOWEVER. upon a rewatch (because i decided to rewatch it without taking notes cause i felt like that was distracting me from the show), i realized something. now let me get this straight. spock went into heat. he very clearly stated that he must mate or die. he came out of heat not having mated or died but instead after fighting jim and thinking him to be dead. so, i feel it is not out of the question to think this implies either he was so shocked by killing kirk, the person he cared for most, that it snapped him out of his heat, OR his body registered that fight as sex. both equally gay options.

additionally, we already know jim is basically the most important person is spock's life, but this episode sorta puts it into perspective. spock says this whole quote about how "having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting." after he thinks he's killed jim, spock wants jim way more than he wants t'pring. which already in of itself shows how much he likes jim. but what more? when he finds out jim is alive, he's ecstatic. he no longer wants jim. he has him. and as we can tell by this being the happiest we've seen spock, it is a very pleasing thing to him. that is the most romantic part of this episode.

[anon-sect]

Henry and Ron heard that they were making changes in the department. Their jobs were on the list to possibly be eliminated. Both worried that that they could lose their jobs due to those changes.

They had received an email from the department head to come to his office to discuss their job responsibilities. Both knew what the conversation was about to be. Henry knocked on the department heads office door at the same time that Ron arrived. They heard Alex tell them to come in.

Alex saw Ron and Henry enter his office just as scheduled. "Gentleman, have a seat." He motioned for them to have a seat.

Henry and Ron took the two seats across from Alex.

"As you two are aware, we have made changes. Unfortunately, your positions are no longer required." Alex paused. "And we aren't filling in any new position at this current time. I hate to let you two go, but unfortantly, my hands are tied."

"There has got to be something for us. This job has been my main source of income." Ron pleaded, almost begging for any position, even as a janitor.

"I am in the same boat as him, Sir. I really need this job." Henry added.

Alex thought for a moment. There was one position that was available, but it was a risky one. "I do have one position that could be offered to both of you, but I have to warn you. It will be permanent for starters. Second, it will be irreversible." He would never really offer it to anyone, but these two seemed really desperate.

"We will take it." Both Henry and Ron spoke up at the same time.

"Okay, go down to the R&D Department. They will tell you about the job." Alex spoke, almost feeling sorry for the both of them.

THREE HOURS LATER.......

Ron woke up feeling strange. He couldn't move or speak, He felt like he was attached to something like a wall. The last thing he remembered was the R&D department injecting him with some liquid substance. He lost consciousness after that.

He looked up to see his work best friend Jason approaching. Ron tried to speak or get his attention but had no means to do so. He saw Jason unzip his pants and pull out his dick. He pointed it directly down at him. Hot piss poured into his mouth as Jason peed. He saw him zip up his pants and walk away without speaking a single word to him. Suddenly, he was forced to swallow the disgusting piss that was mixed with water. It tasted so gross. He wanted to vomit. It was then that he realized what he was. He was a urinal at the office. He wanted to get away so badly, but was completely stuck to the wall.

Henry was disgusted as the fourth guy had come into the restroom and urinated in his mouth. As soon as the guy walked off, the automated feature activated. He was forced to swallow another coworker's piss. The bad part was that none of them were aware that the urinal they pissed in was a former human. The R&D department had told him and Ron that the new position would be permanent. He just wished they had told them what the position was before letting them get injected. This new existence was a nightmare. He now wished they had just fired him instead.

Ron saw one of the R&D department guys walk in with Alex.

"These are you two urinals we installed earlier." Greg spoke to Alex.

"They look awesome. I do wonder, are they still alive in there?" Alex asked.

"Oh yes, very much alive. Their senses are cranked up by 1000%. This is their permanent form now. You should get many years of use out of them, or till you want to remake the restroom again." Greg laughed. "Anyway, I have to get back to my desk. I just wanted to show you the results." He then left the restroom.

"I think I will try one of them for myself." Alex spoke. He unzipped his pant and peed in one of them. As he stepped back, it flushed down the urine. "I wonder how that tasted." He laughed and walked off.

Henry felt so degraded as he watched the department head walk off after pissing in him. He wanted to be upset, but yet he put him and Ron in this predicament. Had they let themselves get fired, they would not be urinals at the current time. He could only mentally weep as every day would be the same. Multiple men coming in the restroom to use him to discard biological waste, completely unaware of the living urinal they just pissed in.

[lostinthewoodsomewhere]

May I offer new Jesse and Zane shenanigans???

I'm developing a sort of overall Au! story for them based around the idea of the concept art Zane being like, a prior version of himself he tried out - which is basically them gong through different thresholds trying to take down different versions of Zane who are causing chaos! Which is mostly just an excuse to put them in more situations/outfits🫡

Anyway, take a small fic Wip under the cut 🫠

"Sooooooo, I guess you uh, tried out musical theatre at some point" Jesse said, spinning the top hat in her hands.

"Indeed. There's a fellow here with a lot of influence who's very fond of it, even managed to get Alan involved in one once."

"Wait, Wake was in a musical?" she asked, and Zane smirked.

"He was. He has a very pretty voice too might I add" he answered with a wink, and Jesse rolled her eyes.

"Well who knew, huh … anyway, I'm guessing your performance didn't go over well with this guy".

"Ugh, he thinks himself so cultured, but he doesn't understand real art" Zane pouted, "you ever dabble in the performing arts?" he asked, and Jesse shook her head.

"Unfortunately not, unless you count elementary school Christmas pageants, and I didn't get to do many of them either. I don't think I'd have been any good at it had I had the chance anyway."

"Nonsense!" Zane said, slinging an arm over her shoulder, "You've got that star power in you, I can see it! I bet you could have been a triple threat!".

"A triple… what?"

"Technical term sweetie, don't worry about it. What I mean to say, is don't knock it till you try it! There could be a real performer under all that… other stuff" he said, gesturing vaguely towards her.

Am I being complimented or insulted right now?

(Polaris jingled something to the tune of 'both'.)

"Well forgive me if I'm not breaking into song any time soon" she replied, putting on her top hat, taking a minuet to figure herself out in the mirror.

"Hmmmm, that might not be up to you sweetheart. Don't forget we do need to blend in if we want to know what's happening here".

Jesse could feel her cheeks heating just at the thought of it, as Zane smirked down at her and Polaris's twinkly little laugh rang in her head.

"You just brought me here to see me make a fool of myself didn't you?"

"Not at all poppet, not at all" he reassured, patting her on the shoulder, (though his grin still seemed a little to mocking for her tastes…)

"And what about you?" She asked with her own smirk, " I know your good behind the scenes, but what about onstage?"

It was Zane's turn to go red now, his smirk dropping into a frown.

"Well I- I'm not exactly a- I wouldn't call myself a performer, no- I have acted in my films before though- stop laughing!"

"Sorry" she giggled "still, it's good to know we're gonna be just as useless as each other if it does come up".

Zane pouted, leaning against her as he thought.

"I guess we are aren't we… perhaps a low profile might be the idea…" he mused, and Jesse snorted.

"In top hats and fishnets?"

"Well of course, that's just a regular Tuesday around here".

[frightenedcricket]

Bartender!Folio x F!Reader. A little Au thing I wrote.

You weren't even looking for a bar that night but a heavy storm caught you on your way back home. The shift had been long and you were tired, but as much as you wanted to arrive to your small apartment, you had to look for shelter somewhere.

On a random Wednesday, a bar like his didn't have much to do. Only a few regulars and a couple of friends. Not even his employees where there. I mean, they were, but not working. They were playing pool in a corner when the door open. Folio was occupied counting bills in the corner of the bar and he barely noticed.

You stood there for a second, thinking of what to do or if you should leave. But then, the bartender with a huge tattoo on his neck turned to you and you felt caught. He frowned a bit.

You grabbed your bag and took a step in.

"Hi" You barely whispered. He didn't hear you. But you walked closer to the bar. You had to stay somewhere during the storm. Maybe this wasn't the same place, but anyone seemed to mind your presence.

"Hey, welcome. Can I get you something?"

"Uh... A coffee?"

Folio chuckled. Cute.

"Does this look like a coffee shop, darling?"

Exhausted and soaked you didn't have time for this shit.

"Why do you have a coffee machine then?"

Folio arched a brow and looked back. Yep. A coffee machine.

"Okay. With milk?" He said with a smirk.

"Please"

You observed the surroundings as the guy got your coffee ready, obviously showing how little he had used the coffee machine. It was kind of sweet. But also... The way his strong back was turned to you... He was a sight to be seen.

"Folio! Man! Are you a barista now? Are you gonna start writing out names on the beers?" A man called from behind and others laughed. You didn't turn, but you situated them as the group playing pool on the back.

"Dude! You better shut the fuck up or I'll kick you out" Folio answered with a high pitched laugh.

You tried to not be bothered by them and stay calm.

"They are my friends" Folio told you. "Don't mind them"

He sat the mug in front of you and leaned on his elbows.

You grabbed it and the warmth instantly made you feel better.

"Thank you" You said.

"No problem"

You lifted it to your lips and took the first sip. But under his gaze, you tried to not gag.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" He scrunched his nose.

You chuckled and nodded.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm better with beers and cocktails" Folio muttered. "It's on the house, by the way. And don't finish it if you don't want to. I'm sure there is some tea somewhere..."

"Hey, it's fine. As long as I can stay here until the rain stops"

Folio stopped his search to look at you.

"So the rain huh? I was wondering how you ended up here"

You shrugged.

"It caught me"

"After work?"

"Yeah"

"Well, you can stay. And if you have to stay long enough maybe I can drop you home"

"As I kid I was told to not get into stranger's cars"

"Well, I'm Nick then. Folio because that guy there is also Nick and it's confusing" He put his hand right in front of you face and the sleeve of his hoodie rid up, showing that his tattoos went on up his wrist too. "And it's not a car, it's a bike"

You chuckled.

"Well, nice to meet you" You told him your name and stretched his hand. "And what difference would a bike make?"

He gave you a look and rolled his eyes. "Smartass"

It make you laughed.

"Noah hasn't drunk, he can drop us off"

"Thank you, but I can walk. No need"

"It's 1 am"

The idea sounded temping. But again, you didn't know him. Or that Noah.

Folio looked at you, really pretty just sitting there on your work clothes with wet shoes and trousers. And that shitty coffee between your hands.

"Can you call someone at least?"

You shook your head. "Nop. But I'll wait here until it stops, I promise I'll be fine"

Folio sighed. "Okay. If you are still here by 2.30 am I'm calling you an Uber"

"I can do that"

"I know and still you walked into my bar instead of doing that fifteen minutes ago"

Speachless. That's how he left you before heading to his friends to clear the empty bottles.

"Who's the chick?"

"Such a dick today, huh Dierkes?"

You could definitely hear them.

"And it's none of your business"

"Do you know her?" Nicky asked him. That one's voice sounded gentle and his glasses made him look cozzy in some nerdy way.

"I do now"

"Cool. Do you really know how to use the coffee machine?"

"Nop, he doesn't!" You said from the bar and your smile made Folio chuckle.

"Yeah, sorry for that"

"He hasn't poisoned a costumer yet" A tall one with tattoos all over his neck told you.

"Yet" You answered.

"That's Noah, darling. And he did poisoned a costumer"

Everyone laughed.

"He was allergic to nuts and didn't told me" Noah defended himself.

Folio was back on the bar soon. "Noah works here" He informed you. "And Nicky works on a tattoo show down the road"

"Oh. I work in front of him then"

"Really? In that shop?"

"Yeah"

"Well, and you never stopped by?"

"On Third base? No, what kind of name is that?"

"Last stop before home" He answer with a smirk and wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You rolled your eyes so dramatically with a sigh.

"Tell him it's awful" One of the guys shouted.

"Can we have some privacy in here?" Folio exclaimed back.

"It's not awful" You whispered and Folio smirked. "Just tasteless"

He gasped and clutched his chest. "You hurt my feelings"

You giggled. You were feeling better, so distracted from the exhaustion and cold. You were glad you walked in.

You stayed there for another hour and then Folio insisted on calling you an Uber.

"No, don't pay it, Folio. Hey. Nick!"

He giggled and made some space between your bodies, his big hand grabbing your wrist to stop you from stealing the phone. "No darling, I already did"

"You didn't need to"

"I know. I wanted to"

Then the Uber arrived and you grabbed your things. You didn't want to leave.

But there he was, with a smile and an umbrella ready to walk you.

"Thank you"

"I'll learn to make coffee if you promise to come back"

You bit your lip.

"Can I have your phone?"

"My phone? No it's mine. But I'll give you my number the next time you come"

With your face burning in embarrassment you turned around.

"Hey, you will come back, right?"

Quickly, you stepped closer and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Nick"

He watched the car disappear down the road and sighed loudly. Back inside, the tease would be insufferable. You, on the other side, laid on the bed not able to sleep with a stupid smile on your face.

[musicalmoritz]

I think I need to apologize again for that time I called Dazai straight. I’m sorry guys idk what I was going through at the time but that wasn’t how I really feel inside

[blueskittlesart]

the master works discourse on twitter is killing me. none of these bitches understood the game or its characters AT ALL

[labyrinthofpassion]

I made a 4 hour 9-1-1 deep dive because this show cured my depression (sort of.) anyone in this thread seen Step Up: All In?