#it's significantly shorter but hurts more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kookslastbutton · 3 months

Text

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iv

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 11.3k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions (you might laugh, you might cry, and you might just wanna punch something after this chapter), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecation in some aspect, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: So, elephant in the room....how did this get past 11k when other chapters are significantly shorter? Well...I had ideas? I'm sorry!! 🫠 ANYWAY more angst in this chapter. Sorry not sorry for what you will consume here. I honestly love this chapter so much though! Okay, I won't say any more bc spoilers are cool but not in my fic! (hehe) Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Numb.

It’s the only word you can rummage up to describe the sudden shift in your demeanor. You’d think one’s typical response to their ex-husband’s drunken confession would be one of confusion, anger, hurt, or the like.

But you’ve gone stone cold instead, barely able to feel the steaming hot water that kisses your skin from within the tub. The room seems to have become a bit of a haze too, your vision blurring as you grip your cell phone in your hand.

The absurdity of it all—the man who handed you divorce papers now professing his love—feels like a cruel joke. The sheer impossibility of the situation is almost laughable, yet you can't even bring yourself to do that at this point. You've exhausted all of your emotional resources.

You’re unsure how many seconds pass before his voice calls your name again.

“__? Are you still there?” His voice is a muffled echo in your mind. It sounds so far away, though you know he’s right here on the other end of the line.

"Honestly Jungkook…I don’t know what you expect me to say.” The words come out slow, measured, and almost emotionless.

There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of his confession. "I guess—I'm not sure either. But I just needed you to know. I needed to tell you everything."

“You're drunk. You realize that, right?"

“I had a few beers, yeah," he admits. "Maybe I'm a little tipsy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I miss you, __, a lot."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re back in the past, back when those words would have meant the world to you. But now, they feel hollow, devoid of the warmth they once carried. And how can they not? You tethered yourself to your ex-husband for three years, learned his patterns, became acquainted with his needs, and danced with his indifference. In the end, the result is always the same, and this time is no different. By morning, he'll likely forget everything he's ever said to you and return to his normal habits.

You take a deep breath, your head resting on the cool porcelain tub, and close your eyes. "I can’t do this," you say quietly. "Not now."

"It's late. I understand-"

"No," you interrupt, voice firmer, "you don't understand, Jungkook. You don't understand me and you never have. I'm hanging up now."

"Please don't. I know I've hurt-"

"Stop. Do you know how patronizing that sounds to me? Please don't call this number again."

"But... I love you, __," his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You end the call before another word can drop from his lips, or yours for that matter. It's time you accept that you are never more than an impulsive decision, a temporary solution, and an item on his agenda. Tonight's conversation solidifies that for you.

Despite being sleep-deprived the next morning, you refuse to let fatigue keep you from fulfilling your promise to visit Taehyung at the hospital. You've been anxious about him all night, tossing and turning without respite. The weight of your ex-husband's drunken confession added to your restlessness as well. Nevertheless, you push it out of your mind as you bound out the front door.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by an abundance of flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts scattered around Taehyung’s hospital room. One bouquet on the windowsill catches your attention in particular—its familiar scent of lavender is instantly recognizable.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see Dr. Min entering the room, Taehyung’s chart in hand. He seems more lively than last night, his expression noticeably brighter with a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, they’re lovely,” you reply. “I’m guessing these are from Taehyung’s fans and colleagues?”

He nods. “Indeed. Lavender is a calming scent. It’s no wonder people chose it for him.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly before he continues, “My girlfriend loves it too. She says it helps her relax after a long day.”

The comment is unexpected yet sweet. You notice the suppressed grin and the warmth in his eyes easily, signaling his deep affection for her. You wonder how it must feel to love someone so purely and without restraint. Before the thought lingers, your gaze shifts involuntarily to the man on the hospital bed, still asleep. Though the bandages are gone and his breathing is stable, your concern deepens as you take in his nearly still form.

“How’s he doing?” you ask, moving closer to his bed. Your heart tightens with each step as the cuts and burns on his face become more visible.

“He’s lucky,” Dr. Min says, walking to the opposite side of the bed, his tone growing serious. “He has multiple rib fractures, a mild concussion, and a few burns, but it could have been worse. Taehyung is stable now, and we’re monitoring his progress closely.”

“How long will it take for him to heal?”

“His face burns are only second-degree, so they should heal in a couple of weeks. The concussion should also resolve with ample rest and by avoiding strenuous activity—both physical and mental.”

“Which means he won’t be able to act for a while?” you ask, reading between the lines.

“Afraid not,” Dr. Min dismisses the idea. “Hopefully, his projects can accommodate his absence.”

“What about his rib fractures? I imagine those will require the most attention.” You feel like you might be asking too many questions, knowing Dr. Min will likely need to repeat everything to Taehyung later, but you can't hold back. After all, you made a promise to yourself last night that you'd ensure he'd be alright.

“Yes," Dr. Min answers carefully, "they could take up to three months to fully heal. We recommend applying ice for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. As long as he remains stable over the next few days, he can be discharged to continue his recovery at home." He pauses, allowing you to process the information before continuing. "It's crucial that he rests. Even if he feels bursts of energy, he needs to let his body heal. Light activities like breathing exercises and short walks are fine, but he should avoid intense exercises until we give the all-clear.”

You nod thoughtfully, absorbing Dr. Min’s detailed prognosis. Taehyung’s condition sounds serious but manageable. After such a traumatic accident, it's clear he'll need months to heal. Getting him to adhere to the doctor's orders will be challenging, given his profession and active social calendar. However, if you need to be the one to remind him, you will.

“I’ll make sure he follows your recommendations,” you assure Dr. Min, your voice tinged with concern.

“I have no doubt,” Dr. Min replies with a reassuring smile. “You know, you're the first person who’s shown up for him both last night and today. Aside from that young man who came in briefly. Namjoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond slowly, the revelation catching you off guard. “He works as my secretary but he's also a good friend of Taehyung's. His family really hasn’t come in yet?” You circle back to Dr. Min's first point with a sense of urgency.

You wouldn't normally be this insistent on the matter; however, past conversations with Taehyung have revealed how much he cherishes his family, often sharing stories about their reunions with warmth and enthusiasm. With such a loving family, you’re taken aback that they haven’t shown up yet. Then again, his accident was sudden, and there could be various reasons for their delay. Do they even know about his accident, for that matter?

“They called, of course, but you’re the first to actually come in,” Dr. Min clarifies, his gaze thoughtful as he responds to your concern. "You must be quite an attentive boss to show this level of care for your colleague."

There's an underlying suggestiveness laced in his tone, but you're quick to brush it off, redirecting the focus to Taehyung’s condition. “It’s the least I can do, given what he’s going through,” you say, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “He’s a valuable member of our team, and I want to make sure he gets back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Dr. Min's eyes twinkle, as if holding back further commentary. “Even from a professional standpoint, not everyone would go to such lengths for a coworker. He’s fortunate to have you.”

You feel a slight flush as his subtle implications continue. “Well, I just…care about his well-being. Besides,” you glance back at Taehyung, your expression softening more than you intend, “I know he'd do the same for me.”

For a few short breaths, Dr. Min remains silent as your attention remains fixed on your colleague. “I need to check on a few other patients so I’ll leave you two alone for now," he finally says, breaking the silence. “I'll be back to check in on him again later, but if you have any questions or need anything in the meantime, the nurse is nearby."

With a nod and a soft "thank you," you watch Dr. Min exit the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung once more. After settling into a chair beside his bed, you silently observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breathing is a small comfort amidst his vulnerable state. Despite everything, you're glad he's going to be okay.

As each minute passes, nurses come and go, and the hum of activity outside the room gradually fades into a background murmur. You had only planned to stay for an hour this morning, but time seems to slip away as the clock now nears 1 p.m. You had hoped Taehyung would be awake by now, but he remains still.

After a brief sigh, the thought occurs to you that you don't have to spend so many hours here, waiting for Taehyung to wake up. It's the weekend, and there are plenty of other things you could be doing instead. Dr. Min could easily call you the moment Taehyung wakes up. But something in your conscience urges you not to leave. Just give it another hour, you think. If he isn’t awake by then, you can come back tomorrow.

Suddenly, a slight movement catches your eye. Taehyung's fingers twitch, and his eyelids flutter. You nearly missed it with how lost you were in your thoughts.

Leaning forward with nervous relief, you softly call his name. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly, his eyes blink open. He turns his head slightly, gaze eventually finding yours, and you feel momentarily transfixed. It's unlike you to respond this way, but you had forgotten how piercing and comforting his eyes could be. A genuine smile immediately spreads across his face once your eyes meet, though not as boxy as usual due to his condition. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see him awake and responsive.

“Hi," his voice is strained but recognizable. "It's...nice to see you."

“The feeling's mutual,” you respond gently. “How are you feeling?”

He shifts slightly, wincing a bit. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he mutters. “I’m sore all over.”

“You had a close call, but you’re in good hands now. Your doctor, Dr. Min, says you'll be okay, as long as you take it easy for a while. He was here earlier this morning, but he'll check in with you again soon.”

"You..." He hesitates, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You've been here since morning? What time is it now?"

"Oh, uh, it's around 1 in the afternoon," you say, gradually realizing the weight of your words. You consider whether or not to tell him the full extent of your stay. “I got here a few hours ago. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung nods slightly, a mix of gratitude and concern evident in his expression. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “I wasn't sure if I'd be alone.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words, your throat tightening. Before you can ask what he means, he continues, “I must have taken a lot of your weekend from you.” His tone is apologetic, and your heart aches. Here he is, lying on a hospital bed, in pain and vulnerable, and he’s worried about inconveniencing you.

“I'm glad to be here,” you reassure gently. “I promise, you’re not alone. A lot of people care about you.”

Taehyung glances around, taking in the gifts and flowers scattered throughout the room. “From my fans, I’m guessing?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light.

“And your colleagues too,” you reply. “We all want to see you get better." Taehyung returns his gaze to you, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Neither of you says anything, which unsettles you.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, the question coming out more hurriedly than intended.

“I drifted in and out for most of the night. It’s hard to get comfortable,” he admits, "I think I could still hear a lot around me. It felt like someone was holding my hand for a few minutes too, but I’m not sure how much of it was real or just dreams, though.”

Oh shit. You weren't expecting that answer.

The possibility that Taehyung might have heard you talking to him last night shouldn't be that embarrassing, yet your mind races with thoughts of what he might have heard or understood in his semi-conscious state. Not only did you share more than you probably should have, but you also touched his hand to feel his pulse, and he felt it.

“Well, um, I'm sorry to hear you had a rough night. You should rest more,” you suggest, trying to compose yourself. "I should get going anyway and let you sleep.” You begin standing from your seat but don't get far before the gentlest of touches brush against your wrist. When you look at Taehyung, he quickly retracts his fingers, concerned he overstepped.

"Shit, I'm sorry, __. I didn't mean to grab at you like that," he says softly. "It's just...would you mind staying with me a little longer, please? I'd really appreciate the company."

You can hear the yearning in his request. It's clear that he doesn't want to be alone, and you don't blame him, especially after the accident he's endured. Settling back into the chair, you agree to stay a bit longer, perhaps another half hour, before heading home; you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet.

"So, how are you doing?" he asks. "We haven't talked in bit."

His question triggers a flood of thoughts, the most recent interaction with your ex-husband being one of them. Up until now, you've managed to push his drunken call out of your mind, preferring to focus on Taehyung instead. However, Jungkook's unexpected confession still throws you for a loop. It's not that you're riddled with the need for clarity on its validity, especially since you don't believe him anyway. How could he claim to love you when he also admits he doesn't understand his own feelings? On top of that, being drunk while doing so—it doesn't make sense.

No, the real question now is what happens next. How do you proceed? Will he try to reach out again? The way he asked if you still loved him before you ended the call weighs on your mind even now.

You know you'll need to discuss this with Melody during your next therapy session.

Before you spiral further, you decide to steer the conversation away from personal matters and opt for a safer topic.

"The company is doing well," you reply with a smile. "The new campaigns we've put out recently have been pretty successful. Although," you add, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "the team has missed your frequent drop-ins, especially Namjoon." If you're honest with yourself, you've missed them too.

"How is he? Namjoon?"

"He's okay, but he's been concerned for you," you answer carefully. "When we heard the news, we came to see you together, but he was quite affected. He promised to visit once you woke up."

"So," Taehyung takes a moment to process. "That was this morning, right?"

"No, actually, it was yesterday."

There's a brief, awkward silence as you sense Taehyung might be thinking the same thing you are—about your presence last night. Surprisingly, he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he eyes you curiously, biting down on his lip slightly.

"I meant to stop by last week," he admits. "But we were wrapping up the final scenes of my film shoots. The producers were eager to finish them. I'm just thankful we got them done. I wanted to spend a day riding my bike along a scenic route until... well, until all of this happened. I don't remember much, but I'm just grateful Tan wasn't with me."

"Tan?" you ask, curious now.

"Yeontan, my pomeranian," Taehyung explains with a soft smile. "He means the world to me. My parents take care of him when I'm busy with filming. I was actually planning to drive up and visit them this weekend. And, of course, bring Tan back home with me. They live pretty far from here, so it's better that I go up to them if I can."

Well, that answers the question about his parents not being here yet, you think to yourself.

As Taehyung speaks, you can see a flicker of fondness and relief in his eyes when he mentions his dog. It must have been months since he last saw him.

"I bet you miss him a lot," you comment softly, "Tan."

"I do," he admits with a slight smile, "but I know he's being well taken care of. Hopefully, I can see him soon. And my parents too."

"I understand that feeling," you reply, nodding thoughtfully. "Pets have a way of becoming family, don't they? I had a cat named Evie when I was growing up. She was a feisty little thing with green eyes, always getting into mischief. We got her from the streets and she was so slim, but it didn't take her long to beef up with all the treats we gave her. Whenever I was feeling down, she would curl up next to me, as if she knew. It's funny how they have that kind of intuition, isn't it?"

Taehyung listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment at your tangent. It's one of the few times you've shared something personal about yourself that wasn't work-related. Feeling like you might have overshared, you decide to stop, assuming Taehyung isn't interested in knowing that much.

You chuckle inwardly at yourself.

Jungkook was your husband for three years, and he never seemed to care about such personal details.

I—" you start, intending to apologize, but Taehyung interrupts.

"Did you have any other pets?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

You chuckle softly, reminiscing. "Yeah, we had... uh, god, you don't want to know how many pets we had."

"Try me," his eyes become playful, yet there's a seriousness behind them, like he really wants to know. It's unfamiliar.

"Alright," you chuckle, "aside from Evie, there were three other cats. Calvin and Misha were the adventurous ones, always climbing trees, while Pip was the cuddly lap cat. Then there were two dogs: Toby, our sneaky Chihuahua, and Bella, a terrier who growled at everyone. Oh, and we had three rabbits too. Cute, but also feisty."

Taehyung laughs, "I sense a theme going on."

"What theme?"

"Well," he grins, "It seems like your household was filled with some strong main characters."

You chuckle at his joke. "Yeah, our house was never quiet, that's for sure. Each one had their own personality and quirks."

"You don't have any now though? Pets, I mean," Taehyung asks.

"Sadly, I don't," you reply with a hint of regret. "The company takes up a lot of my time, and I don't think it would be right to leave a pet alone for extended periods. I might consider getting another cat, but right now, focusing on running the company leaves me with little spare time. I miss having them around though."

Taehyung mulls over your word carefully. “If I ever get out of this hospital...maybe I—”

Before he has the chance to finish, the hospital room door opens, and Dr. Min enters, his expression serious yet composed. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, not expecting to see you still here and Taehyung awake. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins, glancing between you and his patient. “It’s good to see you up and looking a bit better."

Dr. Min approaches Taehyung's side, opposite to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Taehyung's demeanor shifts instantly, his playful expression fading as he turns to answer. “Pretty sore, honestly,” he replies.

Dr. Min nods. “Let’s run a few checks to see how you’re doing.”

Sensing this is your cue to leave, you rise from your chair and reach out to touch Taehyung's hand. But you stop yourself short. Something about performing the physical action while he’s fully conscious instills a flutter of nerves within you. Instead, you gently tap his shoulder, causing him to meet your eyes. “I think I'll be going now, but it was nice talking to you,” you say softly. "Was there something you wanted to say earlier, though?"

He pauses for a moment before replying, his expression reminiscent of the time a few weeks ago when you declined his dinner invitation. You still don’t understand why he seemed somewhat disappointed; it's not like it was a date. He had made it clear he wanted to go out as colleagues. The only reason you declined was because you didn’t want him feeling pity for you, or the struggles that came with the divorce.

"It's okay, we'll have to save that conversation for another time," Taehyung's voice brings you back to the present. "Enjoy the rest of your day, __. Thanks again for staying with me."

"Of course," you reply, then turn to Dr. Min. "If you wouldn't mind letting me know when and if he can be discharged, I'd appreciate it. And Kim Namjoon too, since we're both nearby." Dr. Min nods in agreement. With that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and exit the room.

“He said what?!” Your best friend Jimin almost shouts through the video call, eyes wide with disbelief. You’ve just finished recounting your ex-husband's unexpected, drunken confession from the previous night. Jimin, who already holds a deep-seated grudge against Jungkook, looks livid.

“He had the nerve to say that to you? While he was drunk?” Jimin continues, his hands clenching into fists.

You nod, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “Yeah, I told him not to call my number again and he hasn't contacted me since.” As expected, he likely forgot all about it.

“Good,” Jimin declares with a fierce protectiveness, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need that kind of drama in your life, especially not from him. And if he even thinks about calling you again, just say the word, and I'll come down there and handle it personally.” He emphasizes 'personally' with such intensity that it makes you giggle for the first time tonight.

“Thanks, Jimin,” you say, a warm feeling spreading through you at his unwavering support. “I’m just trying to move on, focus on work, and other things.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and he nods firmly. “You're incredibly strong, __. Are you really okay though? It was a huge blow for him to make a confession like that and even though I dislike him, I know you still have some lingering feelings for him. I'm not a fool to believe you're unaffected.”

You take a deep breath, appreciating your best friend's perceptiveness. “It’s complicated. I’m trying so hard to move past everything, especially with Melody's help, and then he just…throws that at me. It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into his mess.”

Jimin’s eyes are filled with concern. “You don’t owe him anything. Remember that. He made his choices, and you have every right to move on without his baggage.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “It’s just…easier said than done. But I’m working on it.”

“You’re doing great,” Jimin reassures, his voice gentle. “And you have every right to focus on yourself now. Don’t let him mess with your head.”

You nod, feeling a bit lighter with the support. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

“I'm always here for you love,” he says, his protective demeanor softening into a warm smile. “Now, enough about that idiot. How’s everything else? Work? Taehyung? Everyone at the office is talking about his unfortunate accident, poor sucker.”

At the mention of your colleague, you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks. Did the heaters in your apartment just turn up or something?

“He’s slowly recovering," you answer. "I saw him this morning and we talked for a bit. He’s... he’s been through a lot.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, “You saw him yesterday too, right? And if my memory serves, you were at the hospital with him until the afternoon. I remember I texted you to see if you were free to call earlier than planned. Something you'd like to tell me?” A teasing grin suddenly spreads across his face, and you shake your head, knowing exactly what he's insinuating. It's like talking to Dr. Min all over again.

“Seriously, Chim, no, it's not like that," you deny instantly, heart racing a little. "He's been my company endorser for a little over six months now, and he’s been nothing but kind to me. With everything he’s been through, I just want to make sure he'll be okay. I feel somewhat responsible for him. Maybe I'm crazy.”

“Responsibility, huh?” Jimin smirks, unconvinced of your denial. “Sure. Because ‘responsibility’ usually makes people blush.”

You wave off his suspicions, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I’m not, so if you wouldn't mind ceasing your teasing, that'd be great."

“Okay, okay,” Jimin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you ask me, it sounds like more than just responsibility. Taehyung seems like a sweet guy, and you care about him. And I sense he feels the same way about you. Don't think I forgot about his little dinner request weeks back.”

You chuckle, brushing off his suspicions. “Oh, come on, enough. Believing that Kim Taehyung has any kind of interest in me is like believing that Jungkook loves me. It’s unfathomable. Taehyung's a colleague, that’s all.”

“Okay, excuse me? Unfathomable?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Someone help! My best friend is selling themselves short, again. __, you’re amazing, and anyone, including Taehyung, would be lucky to have you. That ex-husband of yours was an idiot, but just because he couldn't see what he had doesn’t mean others can’t.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but Jimin’s words hit a soft spot. “Chim, you're sweet, but I'm just saying that Taehyung is on a completely different level. I’m just me... a 30-year-old divorcee with a half-decent startup.” Those alone are enough to have any man steer clear of you.

“Stop this, __. You're much more than that, and it's pretty damn incredible,” Jimin insists, his voice firm. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. That’s not something to brush off. Taehyung sees that. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”

You sigh, feeling a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. “I appreciate it, Chim. But let’s just drop it, please?”

“Alright, I won't push it," he concedes gently, "just know I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably explode from all that bottled-up stress,” he jokes, making you laugh again. “But seriously, you’re doing great. Just keep taking it one step at a time, and call me if you need anything!”

As the call ends, you’re left with a lot to think about. Jimin’s words echo in your mind, and for a brief second, you find yourself wondering if maybe your best friend is right—that perhaps you do care about your colleague more than you’re willing to admit.

Well, either way, it doesn't matter; you've got enough on your plate as it is.

Starting with the stack of papers laid out on the coffee table, work you brought home that's awaiting your attention. It's a critical deal for your startup, one that could secure much-needed funding and propel your business to the next level.

Sighing softly, you reach for your laptop and open the latest project proposal.

You start your Sunday as you always do, with a book in hand, heading to your favorite café. It’s a ritual that’s been with you since your teenage years, and today, you feel a desperate need for its familiar comfort. After wrapping up the project proposal late into the night, your brain craved a break.

Entering the quaint café, you’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding a cozy spot by the large window, you settle in for a day of reading, occasionally looking up to observe people passing by outside.

Hours slip away unnoticed in the serene atmosphere, lost in the pages of your book. Somewhere along the way, mid-sentence, your thoughts subconsciously drift to a conversation with Taehyung weeks before his accident—the day of your six-month anniversary.

You remember how he mentioned his interest in books that day, leaving you curious about what he enjoys reading. You imagine he might be into classic authors like Charles Dickens or Oscar Wilde. Then again, you might be mistaken.

Refocusing on your book, you manage to read another paragraph before thoughts of Taehyung intrude again. Did he have any company today? You quietly hope Namjoon paid him a visit. "Okay, __, calm down," you tell yourself, "Taehyung will be fine, and Namjoon definitely would have visited him now that he's awake." With a determined effort, you return to your book.

It isn't until the sun begins its descent that you decide it's time to pack up your things and head home. Passing by the hospital on your way, a sense of restlessness tugs at you once more. Should you stop and see Taehyung, even if only for a few minutes? The thought lingers, but then you recall Dr. Min's pending update on his discharge status. Maybe it's best to wait for his confirmation.

You continue driving, but the concern refuses to leave your mind. Eventually, you make a decisive turn, heading back towards the hospital. It wouldn't be as lengthy as last time—just a quick visit to check on how he's doing.

When you arrive at the hospital, you hesitate for a moment outside the entrance. It's Sunday evening, and visiting hours are likely limited. You check your phone quickly to see if Dr. Min has sent any updates, but there's nothing new.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to go in anyway.

Taehyung is awake when the nurse leads you to his room, casually flipping through a magazine. He looks up, his expression softening into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I hope it's okay."

"It's more than okay," he replies warmly, setting the magazine aside. "I'm happy to see you."

You nod, feeling relieved that he isn't disturbed by your presence.

"Though, in all honesty," he continues, "I didn't expect you back today."

"I just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," you admit quietly, taking a seat nearby. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm better, just a bit sore still," he says sincerely, his gaze meeting yours. "What about you? How's your Sunday been?"

"Quiet," you respond with a small smile. "Spent most of it reading at a café, and then decided to stop by here."

"Really?" His interest piqued, he asks, "Which one? Sometimes I do the same thing when I have some free time. Or, I'll read at the beach too. It's relaxing."

"Well, have you tried the one on Willow Street? I've been a regular there since I was 16."

"No... I'm not familiar with that one," he admits, "I usually go to the one on 5th."

"5th? You know, I don't recall a café on 5th, unless..." you pause, realization dawning, "oh no," you blurt out unintentionally.

"What?" Taehyung's eyes twinkle with amusement at your spontaneous reaction. "Have you been?"

You hesitate to answer, not wanting to risk offending him.

"Yes..."

"And?" Crap, you were hoping he wouldn't ask for details.

"Um... it's okay," you reply simply.

"What? Just okay?" Taehyung exclaims, feigning offense. "Their coffee and tea are decent, and they have those comfy armchairs by the window."

"I know, but there's just something about it," you reply with a playful shrug. "Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe I'm just picky."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Maybe I'll check out this Willow Street café sometime. You've been going there for years, so it must be good."

"Well, I highly recommend it." You can't help but feel a bit smug, though you try to keep a straight face. It's just nice to have someone take your suggestion seriously. "You'll have to tell me your review of the place if you go."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully in reply, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. You look away, pretending to straighten your jacket. Why is he staring like that? You're not used to being looked at without some sense of hostility.

Just as you begin to feel a bit awkward, the door swings open, and a nurse peeks inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says kindly, "but visiting hours are over for the evening."

You glance at your watch, surprised at how quickly time has flown. "Oh, okay," you reply, a touch disappointed. "I'll be heading out then, thank you."

Once the nurse leaves, you direct your focus back to Taehyung. He smiles understandingly, sitting up a bit straighter. "Thanks for stopping by," he says warmly.

"Yeah, of course," you reply, gathering your things. "Did Dr. Min mention having you discharged any time soon?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing yet. Might be here for a couple more days."

You nod, feeling sympathy for his extended stay. "Well, take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Taehyung assures you with a grateful smile. He watches as you make your way to the door, but just before you can twist the metal knob, he speaks up agian. "Uhm...if you have time tomorrow, I wouldn't mind if you came in again. It was nice to...chat."

For the first time, Taehyung seems to stumble over his words. As someone who's naturally charismatic, not to mention a skilled actor, there's a hint of nervousness in his voice.

When you turn your head to glance back at him, his smile has faded, replaced by a hopeful look, hands gently clutching the blankets.

"Sure," you agree to his innocent request, somehow unable to resist. "I'll try to stop in tomorrow if I can."

His boxy smile returns instantly as he bids you one final goodnight.

As you walk out of the room, that same smile lingers in your mind—you're glad you decided to come by.

In the days that follow, you find yourself at Taehyung's hospital bed every evening after work. Initially fulfilling his wishes, you gradually realize you've grown fond of his company. Taehyung turns out to be easy to talk to, a good listener who encourages questions you wouldn't normally ask within office walls. Here you are again, immersed in yet another spontaneous conversation that neither of you minds.

"So, what's it really like?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your voice. "Being an actor? And what about kissing strangers? I've heard some co-stars end up together after playing an onscreen couple for so long."

Taehyung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Being an actor is both exhilarating and challenging," he begins, reflecting on his experiences. "Kissing scenes... well, they're not as glamorous as they seem on screen. There are a lot of technical aspects to consider, like camera angles and timing. As for getting involved with co-stars outside of filming, I wouldn't be familiar with that. I prefer to keep those lines pretty separate."

You listen intently, fascinated by his insights into a world so different from your own. But one thing sticks out to you—how does he handle kissing scenes if he were to be in a relationship? Wouldn't that get complicated?

"I often wonder what I'd do if I had a partner," Taehyung muses suddenly, his voice thoughtful, as if sensing your unspoken question. "About the kiss scenes, I mean. I haven't actually dated for a while." Really? You think, he cant be serious...

"I'd imagine they'd be understanding since it's part of the job," you offer, trying to match his contemplative tone.

"Is that how you'd respond?" Taehyung's question catches you off guard.

"Me?" you ask, feeling slightly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I'm just curious. Would you be okay with that?"

"Uhm... well, honestly, probably not," you admit, feeling a bit awkward. "I think I'd have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I'd kind of feel like I was sharing my partner. I don't want to share like that."

Shut up, shut up, shut up, you mentally chastise yourself. You definitely said too much.

To your surprise, Taehyung merely gives a small smile in response. "I think I'd feel the same," he says softly.

The subject ends there, as the conversation soon shifts to his latest project instead—a romantic comedy series titled with a playful nod to a four-leaf clover.

"You know, I've never seen a four-leaf clover in my life," you admit with a slight chuckle.

Taehyung laughs softly, his eyes brightening. "Really? They're supposed to bring good luck, you know."

"Good luck, huh? I guess I've never had the pleasure," you replied with a grin.

"Well, then it's settled," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll find one for you once I'm out of here," he promises warmly.

You smile, exchanging a silent moment before hitting him with your next question. "Do you watch your own shows or movies?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Taehyung's expression shifts subtly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Honestly, I don't," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've always felt a bit awkward seeing myself on screen. It's strange, right?"

You reassure him with a smile. "It's not so far-fetched, but I don't think there's anything to be embarrassed about. You're talented, Taehyung. I'm sure your performances are amazing."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully but then quirks an eyebrow at you. "But have you actually seen any of my work? It's a little cheesy."

You hesitate, feeling a touch sheepish. "Honestly, no," you confess. "I've never watched any of your shows or movies. But I will!"

A flicker of déjà vu crosses Taehyung's face, his expression turning thoughtful. "That's funny," he murmurs. "I feel like I've heard those exact words before, recently."

You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He can't be referring to that night you spoke to him while he was asleep, right? "Maybe it's just a sign that I need to catch up on all the great acting I've been missing out on," you quip, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.

Taehyung grins, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I'll hold you to that. You'll have to give me your honest review."

"Deal," you agree with a nod. "So, as much as I hate to cut this short, I think I'm going to have to get going now."

"I understand, it's past 6:30 pm. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," you reply warmly. "Get some rest."

By Thursday afternoon, you finally receive the long-awaited call from Dr. Min, informing you that Taehyung will be discharged the next morning. You're relieved that Taehyung is healthy enough to continue his recovery at home. Seeing him yesterday, he looked the best he's been since his accident. However, a small part of you feels annoyed that Dr. Min didn't call you—he called Namjoon instead.

It was an ordinary afternoon when your secretary's phone rang. Namjoon was crouched over at his desk, concentrating on a number of spreadsheets just moments before. You remember leaping over to him as soon as you heard the words, "he's ready for discharge tomorrow," leave his lips.

It's now Friday morning, and you're standing in front of your secretary's desk.

"So, you're off to pick up Taehyung now?" you ask, as casually as you can. You do your best to ignore the lingering irritation growing inside you.

"Yeah," your secretary finally replies, glancing up from his screen. "I'll drive over to the hospital in about half an hour."

"Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. So what if Namjoon gets to pick him up instead of you? It's fine, you should get over it.

It's just a little odd that Dr. Min chose to call Namjoon instead of you though. You know for a fact you've been much more involved with Taehyung's well-being than he has.

Of course, Taehyung and Namjoon are good friends, but your secretary has only gone to see him twice over the past week his buddy's been in the hospital. You've been there every day, so wouldn't it make sense that you be called first?

Evidently not.

Namjoon will be taking Taehyung home, and you likely won't be seeing him at all today. In fact, you're not even sure when you'll see him next. Technically, you have his address stored away in an HR file, but you're no creep. And you most certainly are not about to show up at his place unannounced.

It's not like Taehyung has texted you today either. Not even a quick update on his condition.

"Um..." Namjoon starts, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Is there something else you wanted to say? I feel like you're kinda hovering over me now, to be quite honest."

"Oh, sorry," you respond, stepping back a bit. You didn't realize you were staring at him, wordless, for longer than normal. "Nothing else. Drive safe."

As if seeing right through you, Namjoon's expression softens. "If you want to see how Taehyung is, you can just text him. I'm sure he'll respond to you."

"No, it's okay," you quickly dismiss the suggestion. You don't want to bombard a man who's just getting out of the hospital with your texts. You'll leave him alone to rest.

Namjoon gives you a knowing look, eyeing your slightly hesitant state. "I'm serious, boss. Text him. You've been at his side this entire week, so if there's anyone who'd be more deserving of knowing what's up, it’d be you."

Deserving? That's a bit far, is it not? Yes, you've been visiting him, but it's not like you saved his life or anything. It's not that big of a deal. You just wanted to...make sure he was okay.

"I—When did you decide to call me boss again?" you switch subjects, but Namjoon remains unaffected.

"Text him," Namjoon says for the final time before reaching for his keys in his desk drawer. "I gotta get going, but I'll be back after I drop Tae off."

"Tae?" You haven't heard him called that before.

"Yeah, it's kinda a pet name. Sorry, I started calling him that once we became friends, so it slips out here and there. It's like second nature now."

"Got it," you nod, a bit disappointed. Maybe you weren't as close to Taehyung as you thought. "Make sure he gets home okay," you finish.

"I will." Namjoon gets up from his desk and heads out of the office. You turn around and return to your own office once he's out of sight.

While Namjoon is out, his phone rings incessantly. You find yourself getting up from your desk multiple times to take calls. By the afternoon, you're exhausted from the constant interruptions.

Maybe you should consider giving the poor man a raise.

Before the thought fully develops, his phone rings again. You don't even bother checking the caller ID anymore; you simply pick up the phone and answer in your sweetest voice.

"__? I thought I’d be hearing Namjoon first... hey," his voice is hesitant. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

"Jungkook," you reply cautiously, instantly recognizing his voice. "Why are you calling my work phone?"

"I... I didn't know how else to reach you. Can I come in or can you come into the parking lot? I have something to give you."

You pause, feeling a rush of unease. You haven’t spoken to Jungkook since last Friday when he called you out of the blue. Honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t hear from him, especially after telling him not to call again. It's strange that he keeps finding ways to show up unexpectedly.

"What is it you need to give me, Jungkook?" you ask bluntly, "I'm very busy."

There’s a brief silence on the other end before he answers, "It’s... It’s something personal. I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Please, can you just come down for a moment?"

You weigh your options, torn between curiosity and apprehension. His unpredictability lately has left you unsure of what to expect. "Jungkook, I really don’t think—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice sounding more urgent. "I promise it won’t take long."

Taking a deep breath, you decide to handle this with as much grace as you can muster. "Fine. I’ll be down in a minute."

You end the call and sit back, trying to steady your thoughts. His sudden request feels odd, and part of you worries about what he might say or do next. As you make your way to the parking lot, you mentally prepare yourself for another potentially difficult encounter.

When you arrive, Jungkook stands near his car, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His usual confident demeanor seems replaced by a sense of unease.

"Hey," he starts, his voice tentative, "thanks for agreeing to meet."

You give a brief nod, keeping your tone neutral. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours. "I wanted to apologize," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for calling you up drunk."

You feel a flicker of irritation. This is what he wanted to give you? An apology that's seven days late? You figured he would have just forgone the apology by now.

"Why now?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, a defense mechanism you've developed. "It's been a week. I’m not sure if you realize that or not though."

"I know," he says quickly, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me or just never hear from me again."

You scoff slightly, "Well, for the first time, you are completely right. I don't want to see you, Jungkook." You try to keep your voice steady, but the raw edges of your emotions bleed through. There’s no point sugarcoating it at this stage; he’ll just keep pushing your boundaries if you don’t become firm with him.

He winces at your words, nodding slowly. "You have every right to feel that way. I messed up, big time. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. You deserve someone who isn't as screwed up as I am. But I still mean everything I said that night. I do love you. It took me until now to realize that, apparently."

You sigh, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Love? Now? After everything? Somehow, it feels more like a burden than anything.

"Jungkook, love isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card," you say slowly, your voice somewhat shaky. "It's not something you can just throw out there to fix things. Not only did you divorce me, but you also led me to believe we could actually be something. All those weeks of you being attentive and showing up for me after I shared my feelings made me believe that you were honestly trying to make our marriage work, that you were committed. You lied to me, discarded me, and now that I'm not around, you suddenly miss me? No, I'm sorry. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just apologize away."

You pause, feeling the weight of your words settle in the tense air between you and Jungkook.

He looks down, nodding again. "I get it. I really do. And I don't expect you to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know that I understand how much I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to stir inside. "Jungkook," you begin carefully, meeting his eyes. "What happened between us was painful. You calling me drunk last week was also painful. I'm sorry about the challenges you had with your parents, but it's no excuse to put that on others. If you need someone to discuss personal matters with, I suggest you see a professional."

You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't hate you, okay? I'm not that cold-hearted. There's still part of me that I think might always hold space for you, but I can't just forget everything. I need to move on, and that means you can't keep calling me at random times. It’s not fair to either of us. I appreciate the apology, but I don't think we can go much further."

He nods solemnly, understanding your stance. "Okay," Jungkook replies softly, his voice filled with a sadness you hadn’t expected. "I understand. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Take care of yourself, okay? I...I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me," he says, his eyes earnest. "And... I'm really sorry for everything."

He begins to back away toward his car, and as he does, it hits you—it’s over.

"Take care, Jungkook," you say gently. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? Stay healthy."

He looks at you, forcing a smile. "You know I can't do that. It isn't in my blood." He sings the last part, referencing a song you both used to joke about, and you let out a small chuckle despite yourself.

"God, Jeon, I thought you'd stop with that song by now." you say, shaking your head.

"Nah," he replies, shaking his head with a faint grin as he opens his car door. "I'm taking it to my grave. I'll see you later, __."

You know the last part is a lie, an empty promise to soften the blow. Still, you respond, "Yeah, see you."

With that, you part ways in the parking lot, each going your separate ways. As you walk back to your office, the weight of the finality settles in. It's all over, you think, feeling the sting of a single tear trailing down your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, a similar tear streams down Jungkook's face as he drives away, each tear falling for completely different reasons.

Two weeks pass, and Jungkook keeps his word. He hasn’t called, texted, or shown up at your work. It’s as if he’s become a stranger, someone you once knew but is now part of a distant past.

Your days begin to regain a sense of normalcy. The emotional weight of the past few months slowly starts to lift, allowing you to refocus on your work and personal well-being. The company demands your attention, and you dive into projects, meetings, and strategies with a renewed energy.

Yet, despite the return to routine, there's a persistent sense of something missing. You haven’t talked to Taehyung at all since he got discharged from the hospital. You haven’t seen him either, and the silence pulls at you more each day.

Every time you try to get information about him from Namjoon, he gives you the same response: "Just text him. Don’t overthink it; he’ll be glad to hear from you." Once, you sensed that Namjoon wanted to say more but stopped himself short, making the excuse that it wasn’t for him to say. Whatever that meant.

You’re on your way home from running errands when the thought enters your mind for the umpteenth time: should you text Taehyung?

You’re torn between respecting his privacy and wanting to check in on him. He hasn’t reached out, so maybe he’s trying to distance himself or just needs time to recover alone, now that he’s in the comfort of his own home. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling that checking in would be the right thing to do.

As you approach your apartment building, you pull over into a quiet parking spot, letting your car idle. Gripping your phone, you take a deep breath and finally decide to text him.

You: Hey, Taehyung. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. Let me know if you need anything. We still miss you at the office!

You stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you wait. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he doesn't want to hear from you?

You end up deleting the message entirely.

Forget it, you think, if he wanted to hear from you he would have texted by now, right? Just leave it alone. You said you'd support him while he was in the hospital and you did. Now he needs his space to finish healing. He'll reach out when he's ready.

Your phone buzzes the next minute, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at it, half hoping that Taehyung was secretly telepathic. But it isn’t from him. Instead, it’s a notification from a friend inviting you to a small get-together this coming weekend.

Smiling, you accept the invitation.

Turns out your friend's get-together was a singles mixer. Unsurprisingly, you weren't approached much, if at all. It seemed the men were either too nervous, still associating you with your ex-husband, or not quite into accomplished women. That didn't stop them from ogling you, though, as your friend insisted that you dress for the affair. You didn't choose anything flashy, but it was certainly flattering.

Leaving without a phone number didn't bother you, though. At thirty years old, most of the people were younger than you, including your friend who was a couple of years younger. Plus, you found your mind often wandering to the one man you hadn't heard from in nearly three weeks—Kim Taehyung. Should you stop overthinking and finally listen to Namjoon's suggestion? Maybe it's time to contact him.

Lost in thought on your drive home, you snap back to reality when you slam on the brakes at a sudden red light. Damn, you hadn't noticed it change so quickly. Shaking off any lingering daze, you refocus and spot a man crossing the street ahead, a little dog trotting beside him on a leash.

"Taehyung," you whisper to yourself. "What is he doing out here, especially on this slipper—shit!"

Your heart skips a beat as Taehyung stumbles on the ice, struggling to keep his balance. Concerned, you pull up to the side of the road as soon as the light turns green, parking quickly and jumping out of your car to rush over to him. He leans against a brick building, his dog, Tan, yelping at your approach. Cute little guy, but you're focus is on Taehyung.

"Damn," he mutters, trying to steady himself. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you. "__, I—" he begins.

"What are you doing, Kim Taehyung?" you scold gently. "Are you trying to hurt yourself again?"

Taehyung meets your gaze, his Gucci scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. "No," he replies earnestly. "I just needed some fresh air. It's been nearly three weeks since I was discharged, and Dr. Min said short walks with Tan are okay now. My parents were here for a while, but they left this weekend."

His explanation sinks in as you take in his appearance. Despite the chill in the air, he looks better than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the cold, and there's a determination in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"You should be more careful," you reply softly, stepping closer to him. Tan, sensing the shift in attention, continues to bark happily, tail wagging. "Are you okay? My car is right here, if you need me to take you home or anything."

Taehyung nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, I know. Sorry for worrying you." He gestures to Tan, who is now circling around your legs in excitement. "Tan here doesn't seem to mind the ice at all, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind you either."

You chuckle softly, crouching down to pet the little dog. "Is he usually this friendly?"

"Not at first, no," Taehyung replies, his tone lighter now. He glances down at you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's been...a while."

You nod, standing to your feet. "It has. I'm glad to see you're doing better."

"I am," he affirms, his gaze steady on yours. "Thanks to you, mostly. You were there for me when I needed it the most."

"Oh, come on," you say, waving off the comment. "I didn't do that much."

Taehyung's smile widens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You did more than you realize."

You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you maintain eye contact, appreciating the warmth in his gaze. The longer you stand there, staring at each other, the uneasier you feel. Perhaps you shouldn't ask the question that's been on your mind, but it slips out before you can stop it.

"Why didn't you call?" you ask, surprising both yourself and Taehyung as he simultaneously voices the exact same question.

Taken aback by the simultaneous question, you both chuckle nervously, breaking the tension. Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, sheepish.

"I thought about it every day," he admits, his voice quiet but sincere. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I already took so much of your time, and I didn't want to ask more from you. So, I asked Namjoon to pick me up from the hospital. I thought maybe it would be better for me to wait for you to reach out and focus on recovering."

You nod, understanding flooding your expression. "I felt quite similar. I thought maybe you asked Namjoon because he's your friend. I didn't want to hound you when you just got released from the hospital, so I decided to let you recover in peace. I guess in the end, I was also waiting for you to reach out with an update of some kind."

Taehyung takes a few seconds to fully absorb your words before replying. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I would have been more than happy with you picking me up instead of Namjoon. I realize that I should have at least reached out to update you instead of going silent. I'd like to think of you as my friend too. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I just didn't want to burden you." His gaze becomes downcast as he stares at the ground beneath him.

You're unsure where you find the courage, but you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his face so he meets your eyes. You have to stand on your tiptoes a bit, which he finds endearing.

"I’d like to consider you my friend too, and that means you shouldn't worry about burdening me anymore, Tae," you say softly, your touch lingering momentarily on his face, caught up in the moment. When you realize what you've done, you pull back slightly, flustered. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay," he responds, his voice gentle. "I don't mind. You can call me Tae from now on if you'd like. Also, you're not a burden either, you never were to me."

You're speechless for a second before replying. "So, friends then?" you ask. "No more mixed signals and reaching out when we want?"

"I mean, I’d like that as long as you do too," he confirms with a warm smile, though his eyes say there's more that he's left unsaid. You don't notice, however.

"Text me whenever you have something on your mind," he continues.

"I will," you promise. “You too.”

"Definitely.” Taehyung pauses, glancing down at Tan who's decided to lay down by his feet. "So, I was going to take a walk with Tan at the park nearby. Any chance you'd like to join me?" His gaze shifts back to you, hopeful yet uncertain.

"I'd like that," you reply genuinely. "But we're taking my car over, so you don't break a hip on this ice, old man."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open as he shakes his head. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm only two years older than you. Two!"

It's surreal.

How much you and Taehyung have started becoming friends, that is.

Almost two months have already passed, and it feels like just yesterday you were merely colleagues, you his boss.

Saturdays have become your day with Taehyung now. While part of you insists it's to prevent him from slipping on the ice again, deep down, you both know there's more to it now that he's almost fully recovered from his injuries.

Each weekend, you find yourselves exploring different parks and streets, swapping childhood stories, and sharing laughter over the dumbest things. Today, however, would be different. With rain threatening to drench the city, Taehyung suggested a change of plans—a cozy movie day indoors. Little did he know, you had a surprise in store for him.

You dash up to the front door, a bag of homemade food in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

Taehyung opens the door with a grin, holding his own umbrella. "Hey! Perfect timing," he chuckles, taking the umbrella from you and gesturing inside. "Come in. It's freezing out there today."

You step inside, shaking off the raindrops and removing your shoes. The warmth of his home envelopes you, a comforting contrast to the chilly rain outside.

"I brought something," you announce, holding up the bag. "Guess what it is?"

Taehyung looks at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Hmm," he muses, pretending to ponder. "Knowing you, it's probably my favorite spicy chicken wings from that place near your office."

"Very close, Tae. Except these chicken wings were made by your favorite person in the whole world," you tease, handing him the bag with a grin.

Taehyung's eyes lit up as he takes the bag from you. "No way," he says, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. "You made them yourself? You're the best, __. Seriously."

"It's the least I could do," you reply with a smile, following him into the living room where the TV flickers. "Besides, it's pouring out there. Movie day with good food seems like the perfect plan."

"Absolutely," he agrees, setting the food down on the coffee table. "I was thinking we could start with that new action flick I heard about."

"Aww, but I thought you said we could watch one of your movies instead?" you argue playfully, sinking into the couch. Tan bounds over, wagging his tail in excitement at the prospect of company. You scratch behind his ears while Taehyung sets up the movie.

"What? I don't remember saying that. Was I drunk that day?" he jokes.

"Well... maybe?" you tease back.

"I told you, __, I don't like watching my own films. It's weird, and half the time it's me kissing the female lead. You're going to need to watch those on your own time," he quips, his tone more serious than intended. The truth is, he really would rather not be there when you watch him kiss his co-stars.

"Alright, alright, getting aggressive over there," you chuckle, not seeing the faint rosy tint that's crept up on his cheeks. "We'll watch the action movie."

As the opening scenes roll, you can't help but steal glances at Taehyung. Despite the seriousness of his recent health issues, he seems more at ease today, a genuine smile gracing his face as he takes a seat beside you. It feels good to see him like this, relaxed and feeling more like himself.

Halfway through the movie, he nudges you gently. "Thanks for coming over today," he says softly, his gaze warm as it meets yours. "And for the food, of course."

"You don't have to thank me," you reply sincerely, nudging him back with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."

Unexpectedly, Taehyung reaches for the TV remote, pausing the scene playing in front of you. "Hey, __," he says, turning to face you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as they shift from side to side.

"What is it, Tae?" You feel a slight unease, sensing tension. He's once again just staring into your eyes, wordless.

"Do you..." he starts but stops short, his voice trailing off.

"Yes?" You search his face for clues as to what he's trying to say.

"Would you want to go to a party with my family?" he finally asks, his words coming out in a rush. "My parents are hosting to celebrate my recovery, but really it's just an excuse to get the family together."

"So, a family reunion?" Your voice drops slightly, a mix of surprise and...disappointment? Why had you been expecting something different?

"I mean, yes, sort of. You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds quickly, almost anxiously. "I know it might be uncomfortable for you, but you've been here for me during so much of my recovery. It would mean a lot to have you there. My parents want to meet you too."

"Um... well, I've never been to a family function before," you admit hesitantly.

"You haven't?" Taehyung looks genuinely surprised.

You shake your head. "My family's never been one to do those types of things."

"Well, consider yourself part of my family then. Come with me, __. They'll love you."

"I-I don't know about that," you say softly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. "How can you be so sure that they'll like me?"

"Because I do," he urges gently, "and if I like you, so will they."

You're taken aback by his words, unsure how to respond. Surely he means this in a platonic way. Despite growing closer, you and Taehyung are just friends, setting aside any previous suspicions of romantic interest. Maybe if circumstances were different—if you weren't divorced—then maybe you could entertain the idea.

For now, you'll leave that side of him alone and simply be his friend. You feel a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

"Okay," you finally say, nodding your head. "I'll come. When is it?"

"They want to do it next weekend, weather permitting. We can carpool if you'd like, or you can take your own car," he offers.

"I'll think about it," you reply, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"Great." Taehyung flashes a boxy grin. "Thank you, I was so nervous to ask."

"Of course," you say, offering a tight-lipped smile. Taehyung unpauses the movie, and you return your attention to the TV screen. Minutes following your phone buzzes and a text message from Jimin appears on your screen.

Chim 🐥: __! Hate to be bringing this up, but have you seen the news about Jungkook? Looks like he's preparing to step down as CEO. Did you know about this?"

What? You had no clue.

a/n: If you are mad at me, well....I'm sorry but pls blame jk instead. But I am hoping you enjoyed! 🥰 vote jjk or kth

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tags:

@jksjx @lovingkoalaface @junecat18 @babystarcandyjk97 @wobblewobble822 @a-gayish-unicorn @neverthefirstchoice @whipwhoops @hubbytaehyung @jalexad @cassies-cookies @llallaaa @marshieeeemallow @baechugff @lovemazespluto @eegyo @iwanttobecalledaurora @harmonyflora @francheskarm34 @sftlrmin @saba-ya @11thenightwemet11 @yoursnixni @zafirowwa2909 @btsffreader92 @junniesoleilkth @iamcamlb @bangctans @lilliankoo @talyaaas-blog @blackswan18 @appleh4ad @hoseokteardrop @613tannies @whoa-jo @borahaeb1ch @getougf @chimmisbae @kookcobain @miniekookiegucci @purplelanterns @eegyo @inthemiddleofsomething22-blog @darkuni63 @bibimboppin19 @phanniefoo @chieftoadturkeynickel @existenciosa @dasommwa @minayas1998 @sumzysworld @pwd54gr54 @jellycake2109 @sigxx123 @00frenchfries00 @importantperfectionmiracle @stigma93 @lpgirl2324 @youremyjinearth @moonups-stuff @bubblyyz @hvnnibvni @ttanniett @secfir @urlovelily @iknowhistouch3 @nadzzzblog @itsmina29 @mochibites00 @syazzzlisa @ash07128 @kawennote09 @merrygo14 @butterymin @cybercheesygurl @juju-227592 @lesiacapouille

side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

567 notes · View notes

chaoticace2005 · 7 months

Text

Reasons why I, Husk, will not get involved with the spider demon known as Angel: (now complimentary to Angel's list on why he wanna be fucked by BE WITH Husk)

Literally why would I? He’s so damn fake. And his movies suck. And he talks so damn much.

He’s too damn tall. What am I supposed to do? FLY to kiss him?Note: His annoying older brother is significantly shorter. But TOO short. Also not my type. Not that Angel IS my type.

Alastor wouldn’t like it (but who the fuck cares what some radio bastard thinks)

He’s decorated in hearts. IM decorated in hearts. That’s too many damn hearts.

Shedding.

Too many damn arms. Would probably be a good cuddler and I’d never get out of bed. Leading to both of us being killed by the radio demon.

He’s trying to get into heaven. I’d just mess it up.

Literally has any better option and deserves better.

He’s probably get into my stash and drink me dry.

If we’re both power bottoms at rock bottom how would that work?? (AN: this is just a joke from the song 😂 Husk may not be one)

We’re both under soul contracts. Our lives are messy enough as is.

The princess might explode from happiness.

Niffty’s gone on killing sprees against spiders in the past. Don’t want to get him tangled into that.

Don’t want him to get tangled into ANY of this

I purr around him. I am NOT a cat.

I’m stupidly soft around him. I’m NOT soft.

I’m an addict. He’s trying to recover.

He has a cute pig that eats all my damn cherries.

I don’t want to ruin whatever the fuck we DO have. He’s not his trauma, but there is trauma and I don’t want him thinking I’m using him for sex like everyone else seems to.

I lost the ability to love years ago.

Shitty ass poker face.

Drinks the fruitiest damn cocktails that are honestly an affront to bartending.

Looks TOO good in drag (looks too good in anything.)

Too good a parent to Niffty. Kid will get even more spoiled.

Would I really date someone named ANGEL DUST?

His mafioso brother would probably kill me if shit happened

Sounds too good when speaking Italian

Gives people a way to hurt us.

It's better if I'm a man with nothing to lose. (It might be too late for that now though.)

#stupid hazbin hotel lists #husk being in a state of PANic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk #huskerdust #hazbin husk #husker hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel memes #angelhusk

713 notes · View notes

iiotic · 20 days

Note

HELLO, idk if I already sent a request here but if not, may bi request Lyney and any other character if you wish x gn reader who returns to them bloodied and bruised, the "I didn't have anywhere else to go" trope if you will. If not feel free to ignore.

"I DIDN'T HAVE ANYWHERE ELSE TO GO"

summary: how'd neuvillette, lyney react to their crush returning injured saying that they didn't have anywhere else to go.

tw: angst, lowercase intended, ooc neuvillette and lyney?? blood and injures ig?? not proff read, tell me if i missed anything, gn reader | wc: 1.1k

thank you so so so much for the request!! really liked the idea and I had fun making it. also I thought it would be fun if they were on the crushing stage, they obviously harbour feelings for eachother but like didn't tell yet. I made lyneys part significantly longer yet neuvillettes part is slightly shorter then I expected. hope it wasn't too bad <3 (I don't rlly like how it turned out help)

── ꒰neuvillette. ｡˚ ꒱

you struggled to keep your eyes open as you walked slowly in the direction of the chiefs justice house, it certainly didn't help that you barely remembered where he lived. you were at his house maybe once, and you didn't want to feel pushy so it didn't really bother you. however now you realized that maybe you should pay more mind to where he is located.

you sniffed, as tears flew on your cheeks, mixing with the rain after the trial. unfortunately or fortunately for you no one was on the streets this late at night meaning that no one will be able to help you, yet will be able to see how embarrassingly you walk.

after many turns and stumbles you made it to neuvillettes door, you leaned against the door frame, knocking weakly. the door opened surprisingly fast.

"dear? oh!" he gasped, grabbing your arm to keep you from falling.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go, i'm sorry." you whispered, he felt.. flattered? he was glad that you trust him yet he never imagined that he'd found out like that. seeing you hurt was not something he enjoyed.

"dont apologize." he murmured, before leading you to his couch, closing the door behind him. you saw him search for his first aid kick in the kitchen cabinet before coming back to you.

"what happened? how did it happen?" he asked as he gently pulled your sleeve up, eyeing your injuries.

"i just wanted to get some groceries, but before I knew it someone jumped on me, I don't know who I didn't see their face, pheraps it was the fatui but I doubt that what would they need from me? or pheraps it was some locals after a bit too much alcochol or-" you said hurriedly, before neuvillette hushed you telling you to calm down and so you did.

the room was silent, only the lamp in the corner of the couch turned on, it was comforting. maybe you'd enjoy it if you weren't in so much pain.

"im surprised that you know how to bandage people.. did someone taught you?" you asked him quietly, impressed by his skill.

"oh.. sigewinne taught me after i visited her in the fortress of meropide. although I didn't have anyone to test my skills on I believe that I know what Im doing." he looked at you, smiling slightly.

after some minutes the job was finished but neuvillette didn't let you go home, offering you a place in his bedroom as he, himself would sleep on the couch. you declined at first but gave in after you realized that the chief justice cares for you, flustered. before saying you goodnights neuvillette reasurred you that the person who hurt you would be punished.

in the morning the local newspaper was telling everyone to be careful and be cautious as someone is jumping people in fontaine..

── ꒰lyney. ｡˚ ꒱

the night was cold as you stumbled on your feet, struggling find your favourite magician. he just finished another of his magic shows that you were invited, however after you got ready and left your house you got cornered. you were left with bruises and small cuts all over your body, you lips and nose all covered in your blood and red eyes from crying when everything happened, it hurt so badly.

you sniffed as you remembered how lyney told you to be more careful at night, seemingly worried about you. telling you that there's some anonymous people cornering others and.. oh you were at his door. you weakly knocked.. no reply, you were shivering in cold as you didn't even realize it started raining. you decided to use the doorbell. soon after you heard footsteps from the inside, a crack from the door opening.

"oh my! what--how?" you heard his voice nervously struggle wit finding the right words. before you know it you were pulled inside with one of lyneys hand on your hip and on your shoulder. he pushed you gently onto the couch, looking at you horrified. you opened your mouth to speak but you nothing came out, your favourite magician already left in hurry to get his aid kick.

your eyes felt so unbelievably heavy, you almost couldn't keep them open but maybe just maybe you could close them for a wh-.

"hey, hey." you felt your chin being lifted. "i know you've lost a lot of blood just please, please try your best to not close your okay? okay." he said in a hurry. slowly and gently picking up your arm to bandage it.

"im sorry.." you managed to whisper quietly, weekly. "i just didnt have anywhere else to go.. i dont want to be a bother."

his expression softened as he heard you voice crack at the end of the sentence. "a bother? never." he said softly, looking at your weak self.

you don't know how much time has passed, seconds, minutes, hours. you were left all bandaged up, your nose no longer bleeding as well as your mouth. you were grateful for everything that he did for you, everything that he had to go through for you. you were so embarrassed, you didn't want to bother him you knew that he was tired after his magic show.

you found yourself too weak to go to your own house so lyney decided to let you sleep in his bedroom, in his bed and his softly whispering words of comfort to you before he turned off the lights and left the room.

"you'd never be a bother to me, and im glad that you decided to seek me and my help. i won't lie, i was slightly worried after you didn't show up at my magic show tonight, you usually always are there. and yet I have never thought of checking on you, it was my fault that you have such injuries, pheraps if i showed up you'd atleast have smaller injuries and id know who hurt you. but don't worry, I will find them and they won't see the sun ever again."

#neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

155 notes · View notes

draftdweller · 26 days

Text

Cherry, baby

Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Unprotected P in V, Oral F receiving, plus sized reader.

You were on your way home from your late night Diner shift, the uniform looking straight out of the 50's, your cherry red lipstick providing a stark contrast to your facial features, the dark mass of hair tied back in a nice updo to keep it out of your face and make sure it's contained while you work. You loathed the pastel pink dress that you had to wear for your shift, but money is money. You were flat broke every month after bills and groceries, the economy was more than difficult to survive in. You blamed the cost of things on the damages every city endured from every spat that came from mutants fighting their own wars. You noticed the city you were in was compromised the most, New York. Every week a new part of the city was destroyed, every month a new price raise on things. You loathed it completely. Even being a mutant yourself, you stayed to yourself.

Your family had tried to ship you off to Charles Xavier's school for the gifted. You booked it out of there by first light of the next day. No one had even noticed you were gone. Who would, with your powers being nothing spectacular, just telekinesis and the ability to cloud your presence from others. It was useless in any of their battles, and useless in life unless you were using it to move the trays at your job when you were busy with other things.

When you got back to your tiny apartment, you sighed seeing the notice on your door, three days to evacuate the premises, two months late on rent due to hours being cut meaning you couldn't afford it any longer. luckily you had almost no possessions, and the next thing you knew, you were on your way back to the mansion of professor x.

You approached the door and gave a tentative knock, who knew if Charles would let you back into this place. But when the door opened, it wasn't Charles before you. No, it was a muscular man, broad shoulders, dark hair that came up to a point on either side of his head. He was gorgeous, and rugged. He had a cigar between his lips and eyeing you cautiously.

"Can I help you, bub?" A gruff tone left his lips as he spoke.

"Uh, Yes. I'm looking for Charles"

"Charles? How D'you know him?" Another glance in your direction as he took a drag from the cigar.

"He's an old friend."

"I see. Well, come in then" As he spoke he turned and stepped into the house.

You nodded and walked in, and suddenly all eyes on you, Storm drawing in a breath as she caught sight of you. She was one of the only ones who had noticed you had left back when you did. The look in her eyes was both hurt and shock, taking in the sight of you. She walked up to you, her hair significantly shorter than when you'd last seen her.

"Y/N? Where have you been? I thought you had died. Why are you back?" She cautiously held you at arm's length and looked you over

"Died? No, I was just fine. I was on my own as soon as I could be. No one knew where I was because I knew if you all could find me, you'd bring me right back here, and I don't think I ever belonged here, my gifts are useless to say the least. Could you take me to Charles please?"

Without another word, she led you to Xavier, who you spoke to about staying here. You were assured you would always have a place at the school, and so there it was. You were working on unloading what little things you had, when the man who answered the door was standing there in the doorway. Keeping his eyes on you, as you used your mind to move the items around where you wanted them.

"So. You've been here before then? What brought you back?" He spoke and as he did so, you could feel his eyes tracing over your curves. You took off your hoodie you were wearing and looked back at him. "I had nowhere to go anymore" Your reply was short, not unkind but definitely blunt

"I guess that makes sense. But why'd you leave in the first place?"

"Look. I'd rather not discuss this with someone I know nothing about." Your cherry red lips pursed as you finished your sentence, hoping that would be the end of it. You couldn't be more wrong.

"Yea, well bub, Good luck trying to know anything about me. I don't even know much about myself from before I got here. Just that my name is Logan, and I have adamantium bones, and claws"

Your eyes rolled and you looked at him unbelieving. Then you noticed the look on his face. Your brows crinkled up and you sat on the bed.

"You really don't remember?"

"Not really. When I try to look back, it's foggy. Like someone covered it with mist"

You were nodding along as he spoke, and couldn't help but feel bad for him.

"So then, what is your name?"

"Logan." That was all he said before he left the room. That in itself was weird.

SIX MONTHS LATER

You had adjusted to the mansion life, always buzzing during the day. Quiet at night, there seemed to still have the curfew to be in your rooms at. But tonight, you couldn't sleep. You cautiously made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a drink and snack, and going to the room where the TV was. You made sure that it was turned down low enough that it wouldn't disturb anyone, but high enough that you could still hear it. You were in the middle of a horror movie when there was the sound of someone clearing their throat. You felt your body launch ten feet in the air, knocking the snack and drink off the coffee table in front of you. You turned around to see Logan standing there, his hair messy, and him wearing sleep pants and a white tank.

"You do know, there's a curfew, correct?"

"Yes, I, Yes. I just couldn't sleep. I'm sorry" You were tripping over your words as you spoke, your eyes following the contours of his body.

"Yea, that's the understatement of the year for me. I don't sleep much either. You mind if I join you here then?"

"Go ahead, as long as you promise not to scare the shit out of me like that again." You were moving over to make room on the couch for him, and he sat, eyeing you with a smirk playing on his lips.

"What are you doing sitting so far? I don't bite." He motioned for you to sit closer to him, and nods at the TV "Poltergeist huh? that's a good one"

You nodded, and slid closer to him, leaving a bit of space between the two of you. "One of my favorites that still startles me here and there."

He chuckled and nods. "I suppose it still has some good jumps here and there. If you need to, you can hide in my shoulder"

Your own laugh left your lips, and you nodded keeping that in mind. Eventually you did wind up burying your face against his shoulder, feeling nothing but muscle. He wound up moving to wrap said arm around you, his hands stroking over your plush curves, fingers splaying against your bare midriff, and tracing circles against your skin. You felt your cheeks heat up as he did this and looked up at him. You couldn't form words, but you could feel a spark of energy between the two of you.

You leaned up, and pressed your lips against his, kissing him slowly. At first, he resisted, shocked by the bold move and then kissed back. The kiss increased in passion, until you pulled back looking at him sheepishly.

"I, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that."

"Don't apologize, I was just stunned at first, bub. I liked it."

You met his eyes, your own wide, just as he crashed his lips back into yours, kissing you hotly. You returned the kiss with the same urgency, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, a guttural groan leaving his lips as you tug gently, and his hands coming to rest on your hips, trying to pull you into his lap. You resisted with that move, mainly because you were self-conscious about your weight. You pulled back and looked at him "I, I can't" Your words were hushed, and he looked at you his brows knitting in confusion. "I'm heavier, I don't want to crush you"

"Bub, look. You wouldn't crush me, believe me. You may think you're too heavy, but I promise, I'm indestructible. I can handle you" As he spoke, his fingers came up to grip your chin gently. His words were sincere, and his touch gentle. He brought your lips back up to his, kissing you slowly. Instead of pulling you onto his lap this time, he pushed you back gently, causing you to lay back on the couch.

He pulled back from the kiss and moved his lips to the hollow of your throat, kissing and nipping gently, eliciting a gasp from you. He looked up at you from your throat and smirked "Oh, you liked that, did you?"

You didn't respond. You just nodded your head. In an instant, his lips were back on your throat, licking, nipping and sucking on it. Sure to leave marks on it. His hand was trailing up your thigh, and stopped at the junction between your thighs, stroking gently through your clothes. You moaned out and covered your mouth. He smirked and hushed you slightly. He moved up and hooked his thumb in your sleep shorts, pulling them down, revealing nothing underneath. He let out a ragged groan as he took in the sight of you. You glisten slightly in the lighting of the TV.

"Fuckin' beautiful" He murmured. His eyes had a look in them like a man starved and he met your gaze again. "If you want me to stop at any point bub, tell me. I will" "I want to keep going" Your words were a whisper, your hands covering your face slightly as he moved to place his head between your thighs.

He gazed up at you, and his fingers coming up to stroke along your folds. The little moan that left your lips encouraged him to keep going. His fingers slipped between your folds and caressed the sensitive bud above your entrance. Another gasp slipped from your lips, and he inhaled sharply, taking in your scent. His lips replaced where his fingers were, and they slipped down, teasing your entrance before pushing one digit in. You moan out loudly and arch your hips, his lips capturing the sensitive bud, sucking and nipping on it gently. "Logan, please. I need more" You mewled out as his pushed another finger into you. He smirked against you and sped up the motions of his fingers, continuously hitting the spongy area that had you most about to come undone. You felt yourself tighten around his fingers. "Come on bub, let go. Soak my fingers."

With his words, you let out a strangled cry, coming around his fingers and your hips buck slightly. He pulled back and looked up at you, bringing his fingers to his lips, and sucking them clean with an appreciative groan

"You taste so sweet, like cherries" His words caused your cheeks to heat up again and you look at him

"I, maybe we should go to my room, if you wanted to, I mean"

He smirked and nodded, pulling your shorts back up and lifting you effortlessly. He made his way to your room, and opened the door, bringing you into the room and shutting it with a kick. He made his way to your bed, laying you on it and kissing you once more. His knee separating your legs, and he nipped at your lip roughly. You could feel the bulge of him in his sleep pants pressing into you. Your hand came down to rub against it gently, causing him to let out a low growl "You sure you want to go there bub?"

"I've never been surer of anything, Logan" He nods and pulls back, peeling his shirt off his body, and then his sleep pants. Finally, he removed his boxers, and you gasped as he sprung free. He was thick, and long, with the tip red and leaking precum. He noticed the way you were looking at it and smirked slightly. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you" You nodded slowly, and looked at him, carefully peeling off your crop top and sleep shorts. You made an effort to cover your body back up as his eyes danced hungrily over you, but he grabbed your hand gently. He looked you over and used his free hand to stroke your face gently "You are so beautiful. Don't hide it" You were speechless, most people didn't compliment you for your body. But he did, and his eyes devoured you. Before you knew it, his lips were back on yours. His hand moving down to line himself up with your entrance.

He slowly pushed into you, stopping after an inch to let you adjust, and your jaw was slack at the feeling of him. He was waiting for you to adjust. "Logan, please move" With your plea, he pushed further in, until he bottomed out, his balls against your ass and a groan leaving his lips at how tight you were around him. Slowly he began moving and growled at the first thrust. He couldn't take the slow pace, and began to speed up, the sound of skin slapping filled the room, along with the grunts and moans. Your hands were on his back, nails digging into the skin making him hiss. Your eyes rolled back as he hit your sweet spot. The feeling was washing over you again, and he was murmuring sweet things to you, encouraging you to let go again. You let go with a cry of his name, tightening almost painfully around him, and he thrust, the thrusts getting sloppier. As you came undone around him, he followed quickly. His hips stuttering as he shot his seed deep into you. He collapses on top of you, breathing hard, and looked up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "You did so good for me, Cherry baby" "Why do you call me that logan?" your eyes met his curiously

"Because when I first met you, and every day I see you. your lips are red as cherries"

You smiled and nodded, taking in what he said and agreed. A yawn slipped from your lips, and he pulled out gently, moving to lay by your side. You turned to face him, spent entirely from the sex and his hands rested on your hips. Before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep, and logan snuck from your room.

By the time you woke up, you had noticed the side of the bed he'd been on was cold, and empty. You couldn't help the disappointment you felt. You decided that last night was just another meaningless night.

A/n: I'm so sorry, this was my actual first attempt at writing smut. It's not very good, but I enjoyed it. Let me know if you did too!

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #plus sized reader #hugh jackman

133 notes · View notes

houxe · 7 months

Text

Regarding my SBI/DSMP Fics

TW: Abuse, Trauma, and Mentions of Suicide.

With all that has happened, I did want to come out here and make my stance clear. I will always stand with Shelby (Shubble) and all of the victims who are speaking out against Will Gold (Wilbur Soot). If you still support that bastard, unfollow me and leave my blog and whatever small community I made.

I've already stated this is my Discord channel, but I want to put it here too.

For me, c!Wilbur is so far removed from cc!Wilbur that I don't connect the two. The characters are vessels for my own characterizations and stories. It's a bit like writing Supernatural*, Twilight, or Hazbin Hotel fanfics. I don't support the guy, monetarily or otherwise, he does not interact with fanfics, I have plans to be very vocal that I'm on Shelby's side no matter what/make it clear that what Will did is wrong, and I don't use his real life events as plots in my stories. At least, I certainly don't try to. It's why I typically change traits about the characters. (I.e. Tommy is shorter, Phil is taller, Techno is bulky, and Wilbur always has golden/hazel eyes.)

I'm aware that it's a tad different because it's rp and not something like a full on book or an actor in a movie, but DSMP has also been over for over two years and the characterizations I make for SBI are not at all based on the CCs. Real life Techno isn't a literal terrorist, Phil ain't a father married to a goddess, Tommy is not a traumatized child soldier, and Wilbur isn't suicidal and blowing up countries.

I think I'll likely focus more on Techno, Tommy, and Phil for a while, but I'm not gonna let one dude ruin a fandom and things I've made for myself. Nothing I write is ever made for Wilbur, as I've seen people saying. Additionally, Wilbur was not the only writer. Technoblade, Philza, TommyInnit, and so many others made that story what it was. Not him.

However, if any CCs come forward saying they don't want their old characters interacting with his, I will respect that.

Though I do think there is a tendency to take real life events (i.e. Techno's cancer, LJ's music, Tommy's real life parents, etc.) and put them into fiction about DSMP. I, however, don't try to do that and have stated before that I don't feel comfortable doing so. The truth is that we have not gotten any genuine SBI content outside of DSMP for years. The dynamic in real life is very different from what was presented in the DSMP. Did personalities still bleed over? Yes, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not going to act like they're exactly the same between character and person either. We've had that conversation like in 2021, it's why we have C! and CC!.

The rather sad truth is, SBI is what got me really into writing and it's a comfort for me that nothing can compare to. Obviously, I don't think it's appropriate to be writing certain types of stories right now or to be involving characters made by CCs outside of the DSMP. I think it's up to everyone else to decide on what they want to do, however, rushing it also isn't the way to go either. Give yourself time to heal and think it over first instead of throwing away something that gives you comfort and has not been associated with by the creators for over two years.

Anyways, fuck Will Gold. Fuck the fact that he hurt so many people, and fuck that he lied and manipulated his way around the damn internet. ESPECIALLY fuck the fact that he tried to diminish what he did and not take proper accountability.

Go and support Shelby so so much, she and everyone who spoke out really deserve it. I'm glad silence on these types of issues is not being normalized.

Here is a list of (American) resources for DV help:

TNLR

RAINN

WOAR

Love is respect

The Trevor project

Futures without violence

National domestic violence hotline

Resource on what DV and abuse looks like

*Changed it from Harry Potter to Supernatural because Harry Potter is a significantly worse and more problematic franchise, even just within the content of the books. It'd be better left in the dust. I've talked about it before, but it was the first thing that came to my mind at the time and was a poor comparison on my part, I'm truly sorry for that.

#tw abuse #tw suic mention #dream smp #ao3 #fanfic #shelby support #tw trauma

190 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months

Note

Happy with the staff content this year but am I the only one who is disappointed with the PV we got? It's basically a slideshow of art we've already seen, major downgrade from the year 1 PV that had literally all the events. There was a drop in quality of the anniversary PVs over the years and it really shows this year. Sorry if you find this too negative I don't mean to hate I just wish Twst would do better for it's ANNIVERSARY.

[For everyone's reference, here are the anniversary PVs in order of release: 2021 / 2022 / 2023 / 2024]

Mmm, now that you mention it, I noticed this trend with the Halloween PVs 🤔 For year 1, there was a video that showed all members of the NRC casy, even those that did not receive cards at that time. There were then several short variants of the PV released for year 2/Endless Halloween Night (part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4). Altogether, they feature all of the characters, including the students from year 1 but heavily shadowed and with glowing eyes to indicate ghostly possession. Even Glorious Masquerade features all of the students that get new cards for the event plus Rollo, although there are notably more still shots here. The Stage in Playful Land CM, by comparison, is significantly shorter and only shows us the three SSRs (Ace, Ortho, and Kalim) as well as the two new characters (Fellow and Gidel).

As this anon has said, the anniversary PVs have changed a lot over time too. The first one was the most animated and integrated several event outfits. The second one was also animated a fair amount, but you can tell corners were cut in some places where they transition to photographs/still images. This alone works thematically given that the player is a photographer, but you can still catch dips in quality when it comes to the art style. I remember finding Deuce running and the Kalim + Silver flying scene odd, as well as Jade and Trein's faces strange in general. Then the third PV rolls around and it only features the third years; the animation also seems to be much more sluggish (although this could be a stylistic choice; not sure). A friend actually recently pointed out to me that Lilia's pose looks like he was pulled straight from other assets; his artwork in the animation is almost the exact same as his smiling expression in the game. This year's is the most different (+ most static) and, like year 3's PV, only provides "new" content for a select few characters (the dorm leaders). They also reuse pre-existing illustrations already found in the game that don't seem to be picked for any particular reason (like, there are random Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles groovies in there). This direction, I'm guessing, is less costly and more efficient than making an entirely original animation, which is what was done in previous years. (Not that Disney or Aniplex is hurting for money to fund this, lol) Would I have preferred another PV in the style of year 1's? Yeah, for sure. I want to see other events and their outfits animated! Was what we got this year bad? Not necessarily; I think the production and editing was very technically impressive, but I'm still sad we didn't get anything substantially "new" to chew on (as someone who isn't a fan of most third years or the dorm leaders). Maybe it's just something we perceive as a deficit only because year 1 set the bar so high. It is what it is; whoever was in charge of the anniversary PV was probably doing the best they could with whatever budget they were given 😔 Let's hope that next year's will be a return to form, or that at least the money/effort is being redirected to other bigger projects (maybe the anime?).

228 notes · View notes

superectojazzmage · 1 year

Text

Watched the Nimona movie last night. Review I guess. It was pretty damn good. Definitely would’ve probably been regarded as Blue Sky’s magnum opus if they’d gotten to release it instead of being fucked over by Disney. Very cute, very funny, very powerful in the right moments. A thing that stuck out to me is that it’s really only an adaptation in the loosest sense of the word. It takes the core premise and beats of the comic but is functionally an entirely different kind of story that does its own thing. And given that ND Stevenson was heavily involved in production, I suspect that was intentional.

The comic was much darker and more downbeat in a lot of ways, plus it was significantly longer and thus could afford to be slower paced. But more than that, it was a lot more meaty in terms of themes and scope. The whole “LGBT allegory” element was there, but it wasn’t the sole focus, the comic was a story about a lot of different things; not just an LGBT experience, but also discussion of fantasy genre tropes and clichés, criticism of other fantasy deconstructions, character study, exploring what it means to be a hero or villain, critique of the glorification of crime and cruelty in underprivileged communities, corruption in governments, peer pressure, the senseless and self-perpetuating nature of violence, the worthlessness of revenge, etc.. And above all that, it was a story about trauma and people’s responses to it, with Ballister representing people who actually deal with their problems and move on while Nimona represented people who let their mistakes and suffering and grief consume their identity, or worse, use it as an excuse to indulge their worst qualities and take out their feelings on everyone around them.

The movie, by contrast, has a much more narrow focus. The LGBT allegory is front and center and basically the entire focal point of the movie, aside from a spattering of themes about the danger of zealotry and rigid fundamentalist thinking. This gives the movie a much tighter narrative and pacing that suits its inherently shorter runtime, but also leads to a ton of changes to the story either to convey a different kind of message or just work better in a different medium. Most obviously in how Nimona is vastly more sympathetic in the movie and essentially really is the silly gremlin the comic fakes you out into thinking she is, scrapping the comic’s twist that she was a genuinely bad person who was completely serious about wanting to be a villain, caring nothing for the lives she destroyed with her behavior and idolizing Ballister because she thought he was the same as her and would thus tell her what she wanted to hear (i.e., that she was justified in killing and destroying everything around her in the name of getting even). And in the changes to the Institution’s history and nature. And all sorts of other things.

All in all, I feel if you go in comparing and contrasting the movie and the comic, arguing which changes are for the better or worse, you’ll be setting yourself up for disappointment in either direction because they’re two different beasts and it’s like comparing apples and oranges. So keep that in mind if you’re a fan of the comic watching the movie or a fan of the movie wanting to look into the comic. I think ultimately I still like the comic better, but that’s purely my personal opinion and there’s plenty that I think the movie did better.

Some other observations:

Riz Ahmed my beloved, thank you Mr. Stevenson for this perfect casting. Literally perfect for Ballister.

Acting in general was very good. You can tell this was a passion project for a lot of people, not just Stevenson.

Only two changes that are objectively bad are Ambrosius losing his awesome Van Halen hairdo and changing Ballister’s last name — Blackheart is a way cooler name than Boldheart and it’s a pointless change, one that I’d argue even hurts the narrative since it makes it too obvious that Ballister isn’t actually a bad guy.

The animation is really great with fantastic expressions, stylish movement, and wonderful aesthetics that perfectly suit the story, but there’s times where it feels a little off. But there are parts where it looks less “movie” and more “cheap mid-2000s CGI-and-Flash cartoon show from France”.

The humor can be a hit and miss, in a “going through the motions of a Hollywood animated comedy for kids” way. The movie excels when it’s either imitating the comic’s Old Internet sense of humor or going hard on the drama, but there’s bits where it seemingly slams on the brakes to do Illumination-esque Twitter humor and those bits definitely throw off the vibe.

Having an actual straight up attempted suicide in the climax was shockingly ballsy. I genuinely can’t believe they went there, but I’m glad they did because the film wouldn’t have felt nearly as raw without it.

I don’t know how they managed to make the Director even more of an asshole than in the comics, but they did.

#nimona #nimona film #nd stevenson #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #movie review #animated movies #movies #films #comic books #dc comics #webcomic #web comics #indie comics #netflix #blue sky studios #lgbt film #lgbt fantasy

720 notes · View notes

haechanhues · 2 months

Text

last minute of golden hour; yours | chapter one

pairing : first love! haechan x fem!reader

genre : small coastal town romance. first love. fluff. pining. suggestive. angst.

warnings : none. slight show of anxiety. meet cute with someone that isn't our main lead.

summary : is first love meant to be the way it is for the town's golden boy and everybody's baby angel?

word count : 2.3k

main masterlist

You feel like you’re drowning, suffocating under the continuous added layers of perfume and hairspray. Voices unable to match with their owners, bouncing around different conversations and vibrating against the high ceilings of the hub.

The only thing that has been grounding you is the hands that keep you securely in the middle, protectively barricading you within their familiarity. Soothing you. But you feel that Yunjin is unable to hide her excitement as her focus has been zig zagging between you and the atmosphere, falling in love with its entirety.

It’s been motivating, to see her so passionate and all fired up, it drove you to attend all the lecture classes that Yunjin practically pleaded with her eyes to attend. Introductory lectures on college experience seminars. Every guest speaker. An endless pile of brochures. Hauls of freebies and trips to the onsite bookshop had done anything but slow her down.

Yunjin’s eyes had rounded, the sparkle doubling as she engaged in conversation with equally interested attendees next to her.

“I have to ask him,” Yunjin’s excitement has made its way into her voice, her usual smooth tone raised a little in joy and her attention on a particular professor’s area of expertise. She gives your arm a last squeeze, a quick check in with Chaewon before she approaches the professor with bumbling tension.

“I’ve never seen that girl so excited,” Chaewon snorts. You nod in agreement.

Chaewon, nowhere near as excited to attend the amount of lectures as Yunjin but attending anyway. She, more or less, has been there to be your moral support.

With a slight push against a large broad back that almost tramples you both, Chaewon concedes with both arms raised, her grasp becoming stronger, “Let’s get a coffee.”

Your sigh of relief is all Chaewon needs for permission, coming behind Yunjin and her lively mannerisms to intercept her growing bag of tertiary consumerism, the older girl securing it over her shoulder. Yunjin casts a quick look at the thief before continuing her conversation, her joy no longer contained by any material restrictions.

The walk to the coffee stop is shorter than you thought, but the volume decreases so significantly that your ears feel like they’re ringing. The quiet is welcomed by your relaxed smile and the creamy hot chocolate that Chaewon orders for you.

While Chaewon pours her packet of extra sugar over her large caramel latte with a chocolate swirl, your eyes scan the different rooms of the first floor. Doors each marked differently. Study rooms numbered 1-3, stray music rooms and an island of fancy seats with a charging dock.

One room though, piques your interest, “Hey-”

Chaewon’s attention is on you in an instant, her tongue tucked into the crease of her lip in anticipation, “Yeah?”

She sips at her latte, eyes closing briefly at how good the taste is before she tries to follow your line of vision.

“Dance room,” You smile at the girl in front of you. Knowing her next actions as if you wrote her in your journal pages.

Chaewon’s eyebrows skyrocket upwards in intrigue, “Yeah?”

You nod, your smile growing even wider. Chaewon stands, “Well, it can’t hurt to check out the competition…”

Her short hair bobs as she jogs to the doors of the dance room, immediately finding a small gap in the paper barrier of privacy. You follow after her, feeling like little girls on sugar as your hands find a home on her shoulders using her as leverage to tip toe over her. .

“Woah,” You murmur your appreciation, drinking in the large mirror and the clean surface floors. The different coloured lights are so different to the ones at your high school. Chaewon, although less than impressed, is still raving.

“Fuck I could kill for that space,” Chaewon groans. You chuckle, knowing that Chaewon complains about the lack of space in her own studio at least twice a week, “You need to date someone in the dance major purely so I can use this room.”

Your lips curl, “Mmm, maybe.”

“Mmm, maybe,” Chaewon teases, “You barely even try to play along with me. He’s on your brain a lot, huh?”

If the warmth blooming on your cheeks and spreading across your chest is any indication, shes right. And she knows it.

“Excuse me?” The voice that interrupts you is both unfamiliar and the baritone rattles your gut. You turn around, hoping the residue of embarrassment has completely rid itself from your face. A tall figure stands a reasonable distance from your table, but close enough for curiosity to muddle with your brain. He’s handsome, an envy-inducing pretty face and a disarming gaze that is made obvious when his eyes jump between the two of you.

You realise that you’re the only one that’s walking up to him a little too late, the alarm on your face laughable and Chaewon’s attempt to rein it in is completely ruined by her shaking shoulders and uncontrolled pig snorts. You grit your teeth, facing the boy meekly.

He swallows, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- you know. You dance?”

“I don’t,” Your hand falling to your chest, before referring to Chaewon with a polite hand instead of a rude finger like she deserves, “She does though.”

Chaewon waves, her smile unaffected by your thoughts of displeasure and anxiety.

“Oh,” The boy coughs, “Sorry, I just- honestly I saw this shifty dude around your bags so I came here…”

You turn to look in the direction he's looking, making a small note of a suspicious figure hanging around the hub, checking tables and every corner available. When you turn, your expression is mildly thankful, choosing to accept the kind concern of the guy in front of you.

“Oh, thanks,” Casting a quick glance back at the possible offender, you smile back at the incredibly handsome boy in front of you, “Do you go to university here?”

The boy shakes his head, “I’m thinking about it though. I’m a little stuck on choices at the moment but my older brother goes here so it’s always going to be an option….”

“Really? That’s cool. What’s his major?”

His smirk is completely involuntary, “Dance.”

“Ohhh,” You muse, “That’s why.”

His laugh is melodic and smooth, “That’s why.”

“I’m Y/N by the way,” You greet, loving the confidence that has settled into you as you greet someone new. Finding it as pleasant as it is rare. There’s something about people like him that brings something out in you.

The boy bites his lip slightly, “Hyunjin.”

You really wish you didn’t get so distracted so easily. If it hadn't been for the gasp you let out and the suspicious guy, then his name wouldn't have been stolen so sharply. Only possibilities are left over. You thought that maybe his name ended in 'Jin'...or it could have been '-Chin'. '-Shin-' was an option as well.

You don’t know.

And if it wasn't for the way you clutched at his wrist, he would've noticed you had difficulty getting his name. He would've noticed that the shifty guy had made an attempt to steal from a table, leaving only a commotion as he flees. He would've noticed it all, if he had not been captured by you, "Oh my god I just saw him steal.'

Chaewon, though, will remember that moment for a lifetime. Her baby growing up and rizzing every boy in her bubble.

Hyunjin's lip trembles at an attempt to keep his temptation at bay. He so badly wants to say something like 'you owe me' like the cool guys do in all those movies.

But he doesn’t want to be creepy.

Or too much.

Or fucking cringe.

So he withholds, instead he lets himself get suckered in by the fact you're still touching him. Your hold on him isn't necessarily flirty but he's smitten regardless. He thinks he may even adore you at this point, because he can tell you don’t even know you’ve got him like this. Too cute. Too sweet. Angelic.

Then, the worst thing that could ever happen happens, '-Jinnie.'

Hyunjin almost curses. Thoughts of homicide running amok as his older brother, who's own smile has grown at the sight of a pretty girl having a literal hold on his younger brother. Hyunjin himself wants to sigh. The utter torture he's going to have to endure from the moment he hops into the lonely car all the way into next month already traumatises him enough to create distance between you both.

“Uh I gotta go,” Hyunjin murmurs, insanely fed up already, “Nice meeting you.”

“You too, wait wait-“ You’re so sweet about it, and his heart flutters as you hurry to place one of the little free marshmallows on his palm, “Thanks for saving our bags, Jinnie.”

If Hyunjin was stronger or more honest, he would've admitted he didn't like marshmallows all that much. But you bet his ass ate it because you offered so sweetly, so heartwarmingly - he ate that marshmallow you gave him with the biggest grin on his face. His brother's incessant and irritating teasing powerless against his good mood.

Jinnie, you called him Jinnie.

When the handsome boy leaves, you turn around, pout on your face because your cup is not as warm as before and Chaewon is still in need for a stern talking to after the shit she just pulled.

However, you're pleasantly surprised by the appearance of Yunjin again that the conversation is forgotten as soon as it was remembered. Wanting to seek her validation and her comfort, you start to let out a mumble of a whine-

“He was cute,” Yunjin sings.

Your face falls into deadpan, both girls giggling and rolling their eyes at your expense. You send a quick smack to Chaewon’s arm who rubs the slight sting away.

“We get it,” Chaewon smirks, “You already have a boy at home to rizz up…”

Oh my god, seriously?

Chaewon laughs at your flustered and bumbling state, stuttering all over the place. You’re seriously so cute.

“What did the professor say?” You turn to Yunjin who has only resorted to smiling at you fondly, her look almost motherly before your question resonates and has her bumbling back to the girl she was before, almost hopping as she explains the theories that the professor had either proven or disproven.

She continues her story, her arm locked in yours as she explains wholeheartedly. Her voice volume is less passionate as the train station nears, her energy depleting. The urge to snooze becoming more and more appealing.

The three of you pile on the snacks, Yunjin picking out an assortment of fresh fruit, Chaewon stocking up on chips, cheese and crackers with a whole jar of pickled relish and then finally you with a block of chocolate and sparkling juice.

Chaewon lets out a small noise of amusement, “We’re so very grown up.”

You pay separately, meeting up in the middle to use the paper bag that Chaewon brought. The air is noticeably more crisp as you exit the train station supermarket, finding warmth in the overhead headphones that you had decided to bring along with you. A few stragglers of equally exhausted people leave the clean train quiet, preferring the comfort of their own thoughts and relying on their music or readings to entertain them. The three of you are comfortable, Yunjin opting to cuddle into Chaewon and leaving you to listen to your playlist by yourself to your heart's content.

The trip takes three hours, yet it feels like only one.

When the train pours into the familiar environment, the glittery horizon of an orange blue sea and buildings a lot smaller than the skyscrapers that had loomed over you all day. It’s comforting, paired with the smooth R&B tunes playing in your ears.

Home.

It instantly has your shoulders relaxing, making you realise just how tense you have been all day. It’s indescribable, how good home feels to you. How good home is for you. A notification pulls you away from the view and you check it habitually.

How was it?

A simple message and it sends you into an emotional overload. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything - a question that your Mum could have sent you. But it’s different because it’s from him.

“What’s got you so happy?” Chaewon’s voice is slightly husky from her admittedly better than expected nap.

You turn the phone screen toward her, watching as her eyes flick across the message. The smile on her face deepens as she sees how affected you are.

“Reply to him,” Chaewon urges, then she closes her eyes jokingly, “Here, I won’t even look. I’m not here.”

The narrowing of your eyes is half hearted, already raising your phone closer to you, potential branches of where your conversation leads to is racing through your head and has you obsessing over the little details.

“Dreamy,, he likes you just….tell him how your day was,” Chaewon advises, “Be honest about it. He’ll reply to anything you say, trust me, you could say you sand your mermaid tail scales down and he’ll find a way to reply.”

You take her advice appreciatively, amusement and nerves in your thumbs. You begin with the good things before letting your thoughts become more and more honest as his replies continue with so much interest you want to chastise yourself by how worried you were. You even mention Jinnie. Which gets you a little weird conversation you’re trying not to be so delusional over.

Oh.

Was he hot?

Honestly, he was a little. Very pretty.

Hmm. Did he give you his number?

Did you? Give him your number?

No..

I didn’t haha

Good girl x

Good. Girl. Good girl. He said ‘good girl.’ With an ‘X’. An ‘x’ was a kiss. That was something, right? Right? He was flirting just now, right?

Okay, i’ve gtg now. Am I seeing you tomorrow?

If you want to.

I do

You bite your lip in anticipation, your fingers dancing across the screen boldly. It’s nerve wracking.

Then, yeah. You will.

next chapter: chapter two

author's note : first chapter done!

51 notes · View notes

pilot-boi · 3 months

Note

So what would NPPR’s reaction be when Rwby and Jaune return? I imagine whatever the form they are not letting that boy out of their sight. On a different note how does Salem react to Jaune when she finally sees him in the flesh? Does she rage at him, interrogate this strange being or is she more detracted by the missing relic?

Salem would’ve seen Jaune in the flesh before the rescue, because he also gets kidnapped. (Ren and Yang are beside themselves, it’s just the two of them and they’re Bad at Feelings) She wants information about who resurrected him, whether that’s the gods or someone else

I don’t think she would rage at Jaune. She didn’t ask to be immortal, neither did Ozma, so it stands to reason that neither did he. The boy is just another victim of the gods. She’d want information, and torture him to get it, she’s still Salem. But it would be purely need based, not out of some desire to hurt him for revenge or whatever

As for how NPRO reacts when they come back, I think it’s pretty similar to how it is in canon in the epilogue. Crying, disbelief, relief, hugs, the whole nine yards

Jaune is a lot shorter than he was when he died again. He’s stumbly on two legs, his antlers are much shorter, and there’s white streaks in his hair. (There’s also a fucking Jackalope, but that’s another issue) But he’s back. He’s back again and he’s alive

Honestly it’s all they could ask for. He’s so unsteady on his new legs that they fully knock him over when they rush to hug him, so they all just lay on the ground and cry. They don’t let him out of their sight for a while, especially Pyrrha. Which is VERY weird for Jaune after decades of solitude

Because remember, in this AU Jaune wouldn’t even have Juniper for company. Because he IS Juniper. So his time in the Ever After is significantly more lonely

#rwby #jaune arc #salem #mine #asks #monster creator 12 #hares breadth au

55 notes · View notes

queenimmadolla · 2 years

Note

hi!! i’m not so sure if you’re still doing pennyverse or not, but you should do one where she’s a teenager doing teenager things! whatever you’d like as the plot :) i love your writing so much

This one hurt ngl, this is how i know I’m not one for kids cause having penny grow up was PAINFUL. Hope you enjoy it, though!

(Dad!Eddie Munson/Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader)

more dad!eddie and penny adventures can be found here.

summary: Your daughter Penny is now a teenager >:| and Eddie is not happy about it. warnings: mentions of recreational drug usage, lil bit of fatherly hurt a/n: the UNBELIEVABLY HOT edit of Eddie was crafted by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple, whose edits have me in a chokehold. perfect depiction of how I see older!eddie in the penny 'verse.

“Hey, mom?”

“Hmn?” You responded, halting the task of organizing everything for the night ahead.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Penny stated, nervously fidgeting with her fingers as she approached the kitchen island.

Her younger brother snickered, not bothering to glance up from his Game Boy—though he fully intended on listening to this play out—as she glared at him.

You smirked, finger tapping against the box of popcorn you’d been about to open. It was clear from both of their mannerisms, what she wanted to ask would probably garner a no from you. You decided to humor her anyway.

“Okay,” you nodded, gesturing for her to go on.

She huffed, fingers reaching up to twirl around one of her curls. In the last couple of years, Penny had obviously grown significantly. She was still a little shorter than you—probably wouldn’t end up ever being taller than you—and while bits of Eddie obviously poked through her features (his eyes, his mouth and expressions), she was looking more and more like you every day. At one point, it had reached an uncanny degree and creeped you out a little.

Despite her physical alterations, her personality stayed the same. A big daddy’s girl, with her attitude and mischievous ways matching her father’s, it being the reason why you told her no so often.

“Can I hang out with Maria and Shanti tonight? There’s this party and─”

“Ah, stop right there,” you interrupted, having heard enough to know where this was going. Over the years, the party scene had also changed. Especially since you no longer lived in Hawkins. After Corroded Coffin got picked up 10 years ago, Eddie was always traveling, on tour to open for one famous band or another. Two years after, they’d broken through mainstream heavy metal and shot to the top of the charts, starting their first official tour of their own.

It had proved surprisingly difficult, being the wife of a rockstar who was always coming and going for work but Eddie hadn’t been about to lose you, always making sure his family came first. Eventually, it just made sense to make the move to Los Angeles—though you only agreed on the basis you’d be moving to one of the more quiet regions, away from all the millionaire mansions. While your home was definitely more than anything you could have dreamed up, it was still rather humble compared to the homes in West Hollywood; exactly what you and Eddie wanted.

It was still LA, though, and you were wary of the parties thrown in the area. The drug scene here was a whole other ballpark. Keeping Penny away from alcohol and drugs was something you knew, realistically, you wouldn’t be able to do. Encourage her not to drink and do drugs? Sure, and you did. Actively and repeatedly. But you’d been smoking weed at her age and drinking, so you couldn’t be a hypocrite. And you didn’t want to ruin your relationship by being the domineering parent. If she was going to do these things (and, as a parent, you really hoped she wouldn’t) you wanted her to trust you, and know she could come to you about these things rather than having to sleep off a high at a strange home or wait out the alcohol until she was sober enough to see you like you had to do when you were a teenager.

Despite your hopes and wishes, Penny was going to be a teenager—whether you liked it or not—but above all, you wanted her to be safe.

“You know why I don’t like these parties─”

“Mom!” She groaned, frowning at the way this conversation was going. “You’ve got to trust me, I’m not gonna do anything. I just want to have fun with my friends. Please?”

Dammit. She used the trust card.

You sighed, actually mulling it over. You didn’t like it. You really didn’t like it. But you remembered asking your mom something similar once and being denied. Tired of being refused the right to be a teenager despite never being trouble for your parents, you’d snuck out that night and, ironically, considering said track record, almost got in trouble. The cops had gotten involved with the party, you hadn’t been able to drive so you ended up having to walk across town in the middle of the night to make it home.

You didn’t want her sneaking out. You were about to cave, when suddenly you remembered exactly what you were preparing for when she interrupted you and guilt began to set in.

“You can go─”

“YES!”

“—if you get your dad’s permission.”

Penny instantly deflated, slumping down onto the island countertop. “Actually, I was hoping you’d talk to him for me.”

You and Wayne locked eyes and snorted.

“Baby, I would do anything for you, but not that. Not today.”

“What’s not today?” Eddie asked as he leaned against the doorway, scratching at the short hairs of his beard.

“Yeah, what’s not today?” Came a little voice from his side. Maple was clinging to her daddy’s leg, her little blanket clutched in her free arm.

Eddie reached down to stroke a palm over her buzzed head (Maple liked to watch King of the Hill with him and when she saw Luanne with no hair, she’d bugged and bugged and bugged until you finally caved and she hadn’t wanted to grow it out since), raising an eyebrow as he waited to be filled in. You and Wayne exchanged glances before you went back to pulling out snacks and he focused back on the game in his hand.

Penny huffed again before facing her father and tried not to wince, “Dad, I wanted to hang out with my friends tonight.”

Eddie blinked.

“But it’s Sunday.”

“Yeah, we’re on winter break, remember?”

Oh, he remembered but that wasn’t what he was referring to. “Baby, it’s Sunday. New episode of The Simpsons.”

It might have been trivial to others, but Eddie enjoyed every single second he got to spend with his family. After Corroded Coffin’s latest tour ended in the fall, Eddie had made sure his schedule was cleared for the rest of the year—save for playing two shows with Metallica, you’d threatened him if he said no to the opportunity of playing with his all time favorite band—for family time. This was a vital piece of it for him. Ever since it started airing, before Corroded Coffin was ever known and when Penny was still in diapers, it became routine to sit down and watch the show together.

Penny would always keep track of the time, and five minutes before it was due to start, she’d be tugging him by the hand to the couch and climbing in his lap. You’d snuggle up to his side, and when you’d had Wayne, he’d get comfy in your lap. Whenever Eddie was home from tour, it was the same thing; something that kept him sane and happy.

And now Penny basically wanted to kill him. Hadn’t growing up been enough for her? She wanted to deprive him of his bonding time, too?

“I know,” came her hesitant reply as she lifted her shoulders.

His heart was breaking. Eddie’s gaze darted from her to you and back.

“Did your mom say it was okay?” He knew how you felt about her going out, hopefully you’d already said no and this was one of those ‘let me ask the other parent things’.

“Yeah.” Penny nodded, glancing over her shoulder at your back as you pretended to not hear every single word. It was like you and Eddie shared a heart, and you could very much feel his pain.

Eddie stared at her for a couple of moments, stared right into those big beautiful brown eyes of hers, his tongue pressing against his canine tooth.

He knows he’s supposed to see Penny, his 15 year old daughter, but he just sees his baby girl; his tiny little toddler in her overalls with her untamable curls going in every direction and remnants of a sticky treat smeared over fat-filled baby cheeks, who always wanted to be around him, be with him. That’s who he sees staring back up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

But that’s not her anymore, is it?

Eddie blinked, glancing away from her as he cleared his throat and tried to will the moisture from his eyes away even though he knew he’d get high and cry over this later.

“Uh, yeah. Sure, baby. You go have fun.”

“Thank you, daddy!” Penny rushed forward, mindful of Maple as she hugged Eddie. He held onto her for longer than was necessary but she had a feeling this was hard for him, and she still loved it when he held her so she let him.

Then she’d almost bound out of the kitchen before she whirled around on her heels and ran to hug you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Curfew.” You reminded her and she nodded in agreement, not willing to push her luck and moved onto her next target.

Penny sunk her hand into Wayne’s curls, shaking his head and laughing as she bobbed away in time to escape his swipe.

“Later, knucklehead.”

“Don’t touch me, beyotch.”

“WAYNE!” You and Eddie shouted while Penny just laughed and made a run for the front door before you and Eddie could change your minds.

“What? I say it to her all the time.” He shrugged and got off the island stool, making his way to the living room so you couldn’t yell at him. Wayne had grown over the years, too.

While he had started off looking like an exact replica of Penny, his features had changed a bit. He still resembled you quite a bit but he had his dad’s nose, eyes, chin and dimple, making the similarities nearly uncanny. Unlike his dad (though Eddie had recently cut his mane), Wayne liked to keep his hair short but was alike to Penny as he also had his dad’s personality and attitude, and then some.

Wayne had been diagnosed with autism in the past—had nothing to do with the circumstances of his birth—and while you’d been briefly concerned about how to raise him, it was clear he’d be just fine in life, he really only interacted with the world differently than others, lacked a filter but he was still a sweetheart. To anyone except his sisters, anyways but it was always playful. On multiple occasions you’d caught them all conked out together in the living room or each other's rooms.

Maple detached herself from Eddie to follow him and you listened to their commentary.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Oh my god, Maple.”

“Is it because you’re autistic?”

“No, it’s not because—maybe it is, I don’t know, just—shush.”

You rolled your eyes and abandoned your task again in favor of comforting Eddie. He sagged into you as your arms curled around his waist.

“Honey, I’m gonna need a bowl to survive tonight.”

“I’ll pack you one,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. “I know that must have been very hard for you.”

“The other two are gonna finish me off if they try to grow up.”

Almost an hour and a half later, in the midst of the episode, you got up to get a refill of popcorn and encountered Penny as she walked through the front door.

You hadn’t been expecting her back for at least another two hours.

“Hey, baby.” You approached her with a gentle tone, mom senses tingling. Penny looked nervous.

You were about to ask her what was wrong when she blurted out, “I got high, mom.”

Okay, you hadn’t been expecting that so you tried to school your shock. “Oh.”

“They were passing around a bong and I took a hit and I just wanted to come home.”

“Okay.” You could tell it was her first experience with it, thank fuck, and while you weren’t pleased she’d done it, you were happy she’d come back home when she was obviously freaking out and where she’d be able to sober up in a safe setting. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get into your pajamas? The episode is still going on, you can curl up on the couch with us if you want.”

She looked relieved and nodded before running upstairs to her room.

By the time you’d made more popcorn and returned to the den, Penny was back downstairs, in her PJs, and curled into Eddie’s free side, the side she’d always occupied. While Eddie had gotten over the majority of his blues by the time The Simpsons started, you could tell he was still a little sad.

Now, there wasn’t a trace of the emotion on his face, he looked perfectly content and happy as he beckoned you over to his other side, your spot and you went willingly.

Eddie pressed a kiss to your head as you resettled yourself, and relaxed further into the comfortable couch. The family of yellow cartoon characters held his attention for just a moment before his eyes did one last sweep.

Despite the open recliner and their bickering, Wayne and Maple—heads barely visible with all the blankets they were hogging—shared the love seat.

Penny looked relaxed—she seemed anxious when she’d come in to the den to join them and surprised the fuck out of Eddie—eyelids drooping as she cuddled right up to him.

Then his eyes fell on you. The lights from the television danced over your face, the perfect picture of peace as you rested your head on his shoulder, hand over his chest. Eddie wanted to kiss you so bad.

You always said that your shared life was Eddie’s doing but he knew the truth. You’d given him all of this.

For some strange reason, one he was very thankful for, you wanted him out of everyone in Hawkins. You’d married him, a loser who took three fucking years to graduate high school. You’d given him one child, then another and still encouraged him to pursue his dreams. He honestly hadn’t expected to play anywhere but in state. And when his band blew up, you still stayed by his side and gave him another baby. It wasn’t easy, he remembers the fights, the tears and every single trial thrown your way but the two of you had made it out on top with your family intact and stronger than ever.

Homer’s yelp of pain followed by his family’s laughter brought Eddie out of his contemplation and he joined in.

Yeah, this was the life.

681 notes · View notes

bipanicoverthegravessiblings · 5 months

Note

Not sure if you've seen it but could you please do a Graves siblings x Denji from Chainsaw Man style reader?

I’ve never seen Chainsaw Man, not an anime guy- but reading up the Wiki gave me some idea

Andrew and Ashley Graves x Denji Style!Reader

It’s been said many times your impulsivity and general unawareness would be your downfall

Mostly by old farts who think of you as nothing but street trash

It’s not your fault you never finished high school. Not your fault you never socialized properly as a child.

They can fuck off for all you care

But in this moment…you hated how right they were

Your breathing was staggered, air becoming a commodity as you felt blood fill your lungs. Your body curled up into itself, clutching your stomach. Everything hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to be alive.

Footsteps became distant, leaving you in this cold- trash ridden alley, the pricks taking your wallet- and dignity- with them. Not like they’d find much, you had about 20 bucks to your name. They’ll be back for more eventually.

Most kids got their father’s eyes, some their noses- not you. No. Your father oh so graciously left you with his debt to the fucking mob! Asshole thought putting a new hole in his head would get him out of it, and it did- but all that fell on to you. You swore that as your swollen ear was pressed to the concrete, you could hear the prick laughing from hell.

You were gonna die here. You knew that. At least then the debt will finally be gone, you don’t have a kid to pass it along to and you’re an only child. Maybe they’ll track down your mother?….

You groan in pain, though it’s a pitiful attempt to call for help. No one will come find you. They’ll probably think you’re just some homeless person wallowing in their misery.

You tried to open your eyes, but unfortunately they were both too swollen to accomplish that. Tears pricked the corners and fell down your cheeks- causing you to hiss in pain. It hurt too much to cry, but you couldn’t help but sob as breathing became harder and harder. Your throat swelled in pain, you couldn’t swallow down the blood filling it.

Air slowly left your body as you drifted into unconsciousness….the last thing you remember feeling was a hand on your arm.

By all accounts, you should be dead

You wish you were dead

But god is a sick fuck who kicks around their most pathetic toys for entertainment

And you’re one of his pathetic toys

You slowly came too, the feeling of trash bags no longer cushioning you- but rather an actual cushion.

It smelled of cigarettes, but it was honestly preferred over wet garbage

Your body felt sore, but significantly less bloody

In fact….you were patched up

Poorly, some bandages were loose and some were way too tight- but it was better than exposed wounds that could get infected

You attempted to lift yourself to a sitting position, but the pain was unbearable. Along with that, any motions you continued to make were interrupted by two voices,

“Oh hey- woulda look at that. A zombie.”

“Oh my god!”

You couldn’t even register what was happening before you felt someone at your side. Helping you up was a guy, around your age you estimated, with messy black hair and striking green eyes. He struggled to hold you up and grab a pillow, so he narrowed his eyes over the back of the couch.

“Give me a hand would ya!” It wasn’t so much of a question as a demand.

“God! Alright alright, hang on.”

Shuffling noises became closer, but it was all behind you and it hurt to try and turn to inspect. From what you could hear though, the voice sounded more feminine and significantly more chill about this situation than the guy.

Speaking of which, the guy carefully lowered you on to some pillows, a couple throw ones from the dingy couch and one more fit for a bed. You got a better look at the owner of the feminine voice.

She was shorter than the guy, same messy black hair- only this time tied back into a ponytail. Her eyes were a soft shade of pink. She stared at you unamused while the guy hovered over you worriedly. It made you anxious. What sucked even more was you didn’t know who these people were, and why you were here! Last you remembered you were dying in an alley! The fuck?!

“Oh shit- uhm-“ the guy bit down on his finger to think, “Fuck what do we do?”

“Beats me,” the woman shrugged, “It was your idea to bring them here.”

“THE FUCK IT WAS”

You flinched at the sudden change of tone.

He pointed a finger at the woman, who stood unphased still, “You are not putting this on me- not again! You had the bright idea of using them for—“ he paused, suddenly remembering your presence. If you weren’t so out of it you would’ve said something, but instead he grabbed the woman by her wrist and led her into the bathroom with her protesting the entire way.

Finally, with your changed seating position and privacy, you could examine where the hell you were. Taking a look around at the peeling wallpaper, stained carpet, and two dingy beds (one surprisingly made despite there being two occupants)- you deduced it was a motel. A motel with very thin walls that allowed you to vaguely pick up on the two’s hushed conversation….

“….lets just ditch them.”

“No! We can’t do that…..might go to the police.”

“Maybe not….they looked like a bum.”

“Ashley!”

“Well? Am I wrong?”

The rest was a back and forth of deciding your fate while you sat by, twiddling your thumbs….or you would if you could move your arms. At least you learned the name of one of your saviors….or captors in this case.

Moments later, the guy and Ashley exited the bathroom- standing before you, one significantly more tense than the other.

“Uhm- sooooo, hi.” The guy started.

“Hey…” your voice was still strained from pain, “Look I heard you two in the bathroom….I won’t tell the cops anything.”

“Yeah, cause you’re not leaving.”

Crickets. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“I….” You blinked, “I’m what?”

“See- here’s the thing,” Ashley strode forward, ignoring the guy’s protest, “You’ve seen our faces, and thanks to these thin ass walls you know my name at least. His is Andrew by the way—“

“Ashley!”

“What? I’m not going down alone!” She retorted before turning to you again, “So, you can’t leave.” She sounded a little disappointed.

You blinked, still processing all of this. Did you just get kidnapped?? You took in the figured of your captors, their body languages vastly different. But…in some sick way….this benefited you.

The mob thinks you’re dead. You can’t just walk free now, not in case one of their members finds you alive and reports it back to their boss. And these guys are already on the run from what it seems…

You can work with this.

Andrew Graves

The more comfortable you became to this situation- the more it was apparent you and Ashley were tiring Andrew out

He had grown used to his sister’s impulsivity, but your own was new territory to him

Also a new source of gray hairs…

Honestly, you assumed he hated you

But….despite what he says- you believed Ashley when she told you that bringing you along was his idea

Things still felt tense, just the two of you

And you’re still not entirely convinced he enjoys having you around

But that just made the moments where your brazen antics made him laugh all the more enjoyable

To an extent, Andrew was patient with you

He took care of a lot of the social and book smarts stuff, areas you lacked in

It felt nice having someone take care of it, instead of chastising you to do better

Andrew stared at you in quiet disgust, his elbow rested on the diner’s table. In your run, the three of you decided to stop at this diner to eat. The place was littered with 50’s memorabilia- neon signs, a jukebox, obnoxiously plush booths to sit in. Great if you ignore literally everything about the 50’s!

You had settled next to Andrew, sitting closest to the wall while he took then end. Ashley had seated across from you two, but she had since gone to the bathroom, leaving just you two.

Seated on the table in front of you was an array of sauces, each opened for you to dip your fries into. The concoction of sauces were a mess on your shirt, face, and hands- something Andrew visibly recoiled at.

Andrew scoffed, “Y/N-“ you looked up, “C’mere.”

Reaching over you, Andrew grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the sauce on your face- to which you squirmed at irritably. Andrew narrowed his eyes.

“Hold still!” He became a little more aggressive with his cleaning, “God- has anyone ever taught you how to clean yourself!”

You decided to fight back in the only way you could think of, and that was by throwing a sauce covered fry at Andrew. You both paused as the projectile stuck to his sweater before it pathetically peeled on and on to the floor below you two. You blinked. Andrew blinked, then grabbed a fry, and threw it back at your face.

What followed was an in booth fight of several things being thrown: sauces, food, punches- ending with Andrew getting you in a headlock.

“Say it!”

“Never!”

“Fucking say it!” Andrew tightened the headlock as you flailed about.

You wheezed, “Ah! Asshole I can’t breathe!” You tried to pry his arm away, “Fine! Uncle! Uncle!”

With that, he released you- leaving you wheezing as you scooted away. He had that smug grin on his face though, a grin of victory. You flipped him off.

“Dick.” You muttered.

Andrew grabbed a napkin and began cleaning himself off, “You started it friend, I finished it.” He turned to you, pushing his basket of untouched fries to you, “Here. Most of yours are on the floor.”

You looked at him, tentatively reaching your hand for the basket before quickly pulling it to your side- feasting on them like a rabid raccoon. Andrew no longer watched in disgust, but a strange fondness in his eyes.

Ashley Graves

Maybe part of the reason Ashley kept you around was because you went along with her ideas

They were about the same thought process you had, so why not

You two always beat Andrew in votes for how to navigate a problem

And somehow always ended up pushing through it

Maybe she just liked how obedient you were with her

She’s easy on the eyes, and who are you to argue with a pretty woman

She never chastised you for your antics or behavior, but rather rewarded it

“So good Y/N!”, ruffling your hair, squishing your face while cooing all this praise

It felt….nice

So it made you feel terrible whenever it got taken away

Ashley was easy to upset, you learned that

You’d precariously tiptoe the line, and eagerly await the affection when she recovered and liked you again

You wished you never made her upset…

The air felt thick with tension, Ashley’s back turned to you as she looked out the window. It was just the two of you in the backseat of the hitman’s van, Andrew having stopped on the side of the road for a bathroom break. You didn’t know what you did wrong- but it must’ve been something to make her upset with you.

You tentatively reached out a hand, debating whether or not to grab hers. Before you could make the decision, she pulled it away without looking. A small whine arose from the back of your throat, like a hurt dog.

You wish you were a dog sometimes.

A dumb dog who couldn’t mess things up, maybe then she’d love you again.

“Ashley…” your tongue felt heavy in your mouth.

“What?” Her voice felt like a knife stabbing at your heart.

“I’m…I’m sorry…” you lowered your hand.

Ashley’s body made the slightest movement, “For?”

You tensed. Genuinely, you didn’t know what you did, but it must’ve been something. You gulped, looking down at the floor of the car, “For….” You grimaced as you couldn’t think of anything.

Ashley sighed, turning to face you. Her pink eyes stared into your own, you shrank a little at her glare, “Genuinely- you don’t know what you did?”

You shook your head, unable to stop the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Ashley sighed, apparently seeing you on the verge of crying was enough for her to open her arms to you. Without hesitation, you threw yourself into her arms- face burying itself into the crook of her neck as you sniffled. You felt her hand tangle itself into your hair, almost petting you.

“There there…” she shushed, “You’re forgiven.”

It felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders as she said those words, you held on to her tighter- not wanting to let go. Not wanting to lose the one person who didn’t make you feel stupid or like a burden or annoying or- any of those things.

Ashley made you feel warm. Ashley made you feel good. Ashley is good.

And you want nothing more than to be good for her..

#the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #andrew graves #tcoaal #x reader #ashley graves x reader #andrew graves x reader #purely going off of what the wiki says about Denji #and a bit of that one relationship he has with a character I don’t know the name of inspired Ashley’s section

107 notes · View notes

w0rmdahl · 4 months

Text

are you listening? — SKNS

show: skins s1 (2007-2008)

synopsis: joey may have fallen first, but love fell on anwar.

word count: 4.1k

featuring: anwar kharral, (oc) joey park, maxxie oliver, mention of jal fazer, mention of tony stonem

warnings: (it's skins yk) strong language, sex, early 2000s

a/n: so much to say about this piece omg. check the replies for everything i have to tell you guys lol (p.s. i think swear i can write in present-ish tense but i can't begin without the bg set up womp womp)

next-door neighbors turned childhood best friends, anwar and joey were widely regarded (at least by the 13 people who knew them) as two peas in a pod; an inseparable duo that always happened to be together even when they weren't really supposed to. most — if not all parent-teacher conferences were chalk-full of complaints about their inability to stop talking to the other, and numerous family gatherings had been defined by the odd man out chatting happily as usual with their other half — their other half being a spikey haired anwar standing significantly shorter than he was now or the brace-faced joey who'd refused to make eye contact with anyone else.

over the near-seventeen years they were friends so tightly knit you couldn't even fit a coin between them, joey and anwar had obviously encountered their fair share of pros and cons that came with the territory. on one hand, they always got away with whatever mischievous schemes they'd come up with because no one ever expected them to be in on it together. however, the most pressing issue by far had always been the dating allegations.

for a long time even the mention of romantic feelings lingering around had them up in arms, vehemently denying the allegations with an iron fist as they cited how ridiculous it was to assume just because they were a boy and a girl. and though they began this uphill battle before even reaching double digits, the accusations would only grow worse the older they got and the further into their friendship they ventured.

anwar had always been the very first to deny, always saying the same thing; "you're sick and perverted, joey's my best mate! she's not even like a girl to me!" and for some reason young joey always found this to be hilarious. nowadays, however, not as funny. actually a little hurtful to be completely honest, but she knew why.

the god-honest truth was; joey had loved anwar since the start. she grew up with the hopeless gnawing of yearn at her fingertips, familiar with the fungus-like growth of blush on her cheeks as they walked home from school or shared a cigarette under the stars. she'd spent years tossing restlessly in bed every night in an attempt to tune out the annoying hum in her chest until it eventually became nothing more than white noise in her ears — somewhat manageable but still tender like a bruise when pressed.

by 14 she had figured out a way to better conceal the jealousy that bubbled inside whenever he drooled over the nearest being with boobs, that is, until she found herself whining under the covers like a sick dog. by 15 she finally came to terms with the fact that he'd never even look in her direction with romance in mind, and by her 16th birthday spent with the blubbering drunk, joey finally put the hopes of ‘something more’ to rest as she fell asleep with his elbow dug into her ribs and a lump of acceptance in her throat.

on the contrary, however, anwar was not afforded the luxury of carefully unraveling the warmth in his chest until the burden met his open palms. no — unlike joey's lifelong pining, poor dear anwar happened to be speaking with maxxie when the realization fell on top of him like bricks squashing a bug.

"i just — i don't get it! why does she do that?" he huffed before taking another swig of whatever liquor it was that they'd found at the park, sat leaned against his bed with the absence of her fairy lights reflecting into his window further grating his tender feelings. "of course i don't want to hear about some wanker trying to chat her up! that's disgusting!"

maxxie almost laughs at him, though he refrains. "oh, come on, anwar. you know joey's like mother teresa, i bet she didn't even let him dream about it. is it really that big of an issue?"

"it is! because now i have the image of this bloke shoving his tongue down her throat and if i think about it any longer i'm gonna spew!"

now pausing to catch the sad-faced-clowns gaze, maxxie snatched the bottle from him before shrugging, voice small like he already knew what would come next. "well..." he hummed, "have you ever thought about telling her?"

the aforementioned clowns eyebrows furrowed together. "telling her what?"

"come on, an, it's obvious. i've seen how you look at her. you'll never know until you give it a shot."

at first, anwar would fully brush him off. "maxxie," he'd say with the disapproval already written in his grimace "it's not like that — it's never been like that. i've never even thought of joey like that." but when his stripe-wearing friend finally went home and left him all alone to mull over their conversation, poor dear anwar would think of her like that. he'd find himself in a similar position that night, unbeknownst to either parties, curled into a ball under the covers as he clutched at his chest almost like he was ready to rip the frantic heart right out.

as jal would say months after this initial incident; "joey may have fallen in love first, but love fell on anwar." she was right, as always, but this wouldn't come to fruition until a period of continuous push-and-pulls between them.

of course, the days and weeks following proceeded as typical as usual; anwar and joey hung out for the majority of the day, partied on the weekends, found themselves waking up a tangled mess on the floor surrounded by the rest of the gang covered in a typical amount of vomit. nothing significant immediately changed — much to his dismay — but instead it seemed as though a list of strange circumstances added up over time to grow into the change they both so desperately longed for.

first it was anwar. joey noticed only a few days after he'd originally got upset with her that he started accommodating her more — at least more than usual. it started with the bag of chips they'd bought to share between their parallel windows. usually he'd try to convince her not to get the spicy chips due to the fact that it always ended with tears, but on this fateful day, anwar picked her absolute favorite without so much as a flinch before paying for it himself.

it didn't strike her as exceptionally abnormal until she finished her drink without realizing and was yet again left sniffling, eyes wet as she reached over the gap to hand it back to him with dust-covered fingers. he'd resume leaning against the window frame in search for his drink to hand over only to turn back and find her with a thumb between her lips, tears dripping down her pink cheeks. she laughed.

"they're just so good."

joey would wait for her expected response, something along the lines of 'you're a monster/addict/freak,' only to have his dumb grin be the entire response. she could see his gaze surveying her warm face before fixing on her eyes and staying there, utterly unmoving until she'd grumble.

"just say 'told you so' or something! don't make me stew in it."

anwar was careful not to stare for too long after that, he knew she didn't like feeling 'seen' anyway. but you'd best believe he was studying her features every time she wasn't looking, skin so much softer and lips so much rosier now that he saw her in the new light. he could've sworn she existed solely in a hazy glow colored by every new feature he witnessed pulling him in deeper. if only he could reach out to make sure — to check and see if she was really as radiant as he'd observed. how didn't he notice it before?

it would get to a point that, on a foggy drunken night, anwar would reach out to test his theory.

"— so, when i went home, i got to tell my mom all about how well i did and how many compliments i got from the teachers. she said she'd make my jjajangmyeon tomorrow, too!" from her seat on the counter, joey sat swinging her legs with a cup full of absolute jungle-juice swishing inside as she told him about her successful friday quizzes. "i'm just so happy it's over. i could drink myself to death!"

anwar swore he was listening — he swore he was paying attention to each and every detail about her exams and all the people and especially that bloke dominic — but from his inebriated place against the adjacent island of this posh house he could not for the life of him keep his mind off of the yearn to bring his pounding heart as close to hers as possible. with slow blinks emphasizing his glossy eyes, anwar set his drink down and pushed himself to stand up in one swift motion, arms already wrapped under her shoulder blades by the time she understood what was happening.

it wasn't like they'd never hugged before — they have hugged plenty of times, in fact. physical contact was not a foreign language to them after a long childhood of sleepovers ending with him using her as a blanket because they fell asleep on the floor, but it definitely became less frequent the older they got. waking up on the floor with his head on her stomach was still a common occurrence, but tender interactions like hugs were typically reserved for serious, gloomy moments that called for it. like when her cat died. not, for example, while she was around 7 shots in telling him about her awesome day.

"wh—what's up?" she chuckled nervously, pulse against his as her fingertips subconsciously found his spine, "this is super haram." there was an anxiousness to her voice that even an intoxicated anwar picked up on, especially when pressed so close he could hear the vibrations of her vocal cords. anwar took a deep breath before he pulled away to reclaim his spot against the marble.

"i'm happy you're alive."

a flash of furrowed brows appeared across her face before she was then setting her cup down, sliding off the counter to put her jacket back on. "okay, annie, time to go home. i want you to remember this in the morning when i nurse you back to health."

anwar declared to maxxie the following day (after recovering from his hangover) that he needed to be more careful with how he went about this with joey — if he was gonna muster the courage to talk about it, he had to be careful until that point came. he couldn't just find himself stumbling into it; he had to be smart about this and prove himself worthy as someone for joey, the famously proud virgin who ran off any guy looking in the wrong places for something 'haram' (as his dad and joey would say, though he was certain joey was only teasing.)

"how do i know she even likes guys? or anyone, for that matter!" anwar is almost spiraling with his eyes fixed on the ceiling fan, "the only people she's ever liked are all celebrities! sure, norman bates is an interesting choice, but everyone loves ralph macchio he's-the-fucking-karate-kid!!!"

maxxie, as per usual, was cool as a cucumber. "well, why don't you just do some spy work?” he suggested, “ask her sneaky questions...point her in that direction?"

this ingenious yet devious plan from the third musketeer would eventually be how joey accidentally stumbled into revealing a little too much, unknowingly lead into the territory by her best friend with a sinister motive as they waited on tony and michelle to stop shagging upstairs.

"hey," he'd inquire, innocent in the face as he looked over at her. "can i ask you something?"

"of course."

"the other day chris said mostly men have foot fetishes and mostly women have hand fetishes. is that true or..."

joey looked over at him already irritated, likely suspicious of a looming joke in poor taste. she sighed as she shrugged in an attempt to play off her genuine intrigue before actually pausing to think about it. it sounded true, didn't it?

"i mean...i have no sources, so don't quote me or anything, but i'd say it's probably true."

anwar leaned in a little closer. "but...so...you think a lot of women like hands?"

"i don't know, man," she chuckles and visibly leans away "i know some girls do. why are you so interested?"

"do you?"

now she's actually raising her guard, he can see it in her eyes as she grimaces at his questioning. "well..." joey starts, gaze flicking around the room so as to avoid his. "kind of."

anwar's mischevious smile would grow upon hearing this response, restraining the urge to tease and nudge her with an elbow in favor of continuing his spywork. "kind of?"

"i wouldn't even say it's a fetish like a foot fetish is —" she's speaking quickly the same way she did when trying to fight embarrassment, "it's just — girls can appreciate pretty hands when they see one — i can appreciate pretty hands. it's just an added bonus, you know? if you're hot that's awesome, if you're hot and you have nice hands..."

he didn't even have to think about his next line of questioning. "do i?" anwar asks, presenting forth a warm (and a little clammy from the nerves) palm toward her. joey's eyes would finally return to his, wide and utterly perplexed, before peering down at the fingers outstretched toward her.

"well..." she mutters, shaky fingertips grazing his knuckles as she turned his hand over. "i'd...say so. you have...um..." joey's almost crumbling under the pressure. her face is growing hotter by the second, covered only by the long locks of hair she let conceal her features while she tried to navigate this sticky situation. how to be honest while also not revealing that she had thought about his hands in detail plenty of times to recognize each and every vein and scar in the skin?

"well," her tone is stronger now that she's cleared her throat, "you don't have any visible diseases, so that's a start. your fingers are long — but not like, salad fingers long. and you have big hands, too, girls like that. — i think."

finally looking up from the back of the hand she knew well, joey's pupils are darker than before, a shy smile curling her red lips once she noticed his. 'sly' he thought, 'but not sly enough.' she'd set his hand back down in his lap as the creaking bed upstairs finally came to a halt.

"you're cheeky."

moments such as these, tense and somewhat awkward but certainly suggestive, would be given the time to grow into an entire catalogue (later discussed between maxxie and anwar) that eventually built up into one final, fateful friday.

it was a friday like any other for the pair, the beginning of the weekend spent walking home side-by-side after school in order to drop off their bags before heading to some posh party tony had invited them to. but, halfway through the getting-ready process, anwar would decide to make a catastrophic play;

"do you know if kelsey will be there?"

joey, from her place laid flat over his covers, almost scoffed. "um...why would i know?"

"she's in your last period," anwar shrugged nonchalance before pulling a different shirt over his head. "just thought you might have overheard her say something about it." from the corner of his vision he could see her sit up for the first time in 20 minutes, her arms propped behind her back as she looked over at him, though he couldn't see her expression.

"how do you know that?"

"she told me yesterday." he'd say simply. joey only inched closer, her full and individed attention on him now as she sat at the edge of the mattress.

"she told you? what does that mean?"

anwar couldn't help the smirk that found it's way to his lips at the obvious jealousy in her voice. he turned to look at her — wiping the grin from his face first, of course. "it means she came up to me yesterday before last period to ask to hang out." he stated plainly, watching as her gaze became sharper, "but i said no cause i didn't wanna cancel our movie night."

"oh, how thoughtful of you."

anwar was immediately certain he'd made a severe miscalculation by the absolute venom in her voice, low and barbed and filled to the brim with animosity as she rolled her eyes — a gesture he didn't see often. joey sat tense with her arms folded over her chest so tightly that her nails dug into the skin like she was holding the leash of a rabid dog.

she spoke again.

"so thoughtful, in fact, it makes me wonder why you even bothered to bring kelsey up at all. you could've just kept that to yourself — and yet here we are. why is that, anwar?"

he audibly gulped, his mouth agape as he searched for an explanation to offer other than the real one. joey was too quick, however, too well-versed in anwar-isms to not notice his obvious tells of dishonesty. within a beat and a half she's shooting to her feet with her pointer finger angled accusingly at him.

"you know what? i'm sick to death of your double standards, anwar, and i never got an apology after you totally brushed me off over the dominic thing — so it's funny that you decide now is a great time to tell me all about how badly that cunt kelsey wants in your pants. did you think i'd be happy you canceled because of me? that i'm the roadblock?"

in their near-seventeen years of friendship, never has anwar seen joey so angry. of course they'd argued in the past, especially over trivial things, but jo typically spoke in this distinct whine that came out whenever she felt cornered. maybe that was just how he made her feel at the time, and maybe that was how she effectively wanted to make him feel — but he didn't have the time to think about that now.

"n—no, no," anwar is backpedaling, his mind spinning the wheel on where to begin — what to do. "i wasn't—i just—it's different!" he's incomprehensible through the fire in her veins.

"what's different, anwar? your hypocrisy? — telling me all about how well you and kelsey kerr get along but i'm the bitch for telling you how massive of a cunt i was to dominic?" her eyebrows are almost touching, the lines of disgust visible by her flared nostrils, teeth bared like a violent beast. joey's almost yelling by this point, "you made me feel like bristol's town slut for telling that — that fucker off and yet here you are asking me if your stupid hookup is coming to this stupid fucking party!"

anwar begins sputtering for the right words to say, nearly unintelligible as multiple explanations meld together into a frantic jumbled mess. "jo — no — it's different now! i just mean — i didn't — i was just trying —"

she's over it. "you know what!?" joey interrupts, her volume close to the loudest he'd ever heard her voice (minus the spider on her shoulder.) "i don't want to hear it!" and without another word she's already turning on her heel, stomping her way out the door before slamming it behind her. thank allah his family was out.

of course anwar followed after her! what else was he supposed to do? he'd be hot on her heels the whole way down the stairs, blubbering a slew of apologies and explanations and pleads as they exited his front door and walked right up to hers. joey then turned as her fingers gripped the knob, face to face with him from her spot on the top step, and wholly severed any lingering conversation to be had.

"shut up, anwar! just shut the fuck up! i don't know if you think it's funny to piss me off or what — but now i'm pissed off! so what i need from you right now is to shut your mouth and fuck off because i don't want to say anything mean to you because i love you—so.for.the.love.of...god or allah or whatever! — go away!"

anwar went back to his room with his tail tucked between his legs, head hung as he flopped onto his bed. he'd turn to look out his window — the one that had always been their own personal menagerie for the other to watch and occasionally sneak into — only to find her blinds closed. with a heavy and distinctly discouraged sigh anwar would spend another hour or so going over everything that had happened — everything that could happen after this passed. he'd find that the longer he thought about it, the worse the outcome between them spiraled in his mind, his hands and his legs restless — itching to get up and do something about it. so he did.

first anwar tried tapping on the glass to see if anyone was actually inside there, rightfully earning himself a middle finger that emerged from below the windowsill. he took it on the chin with a short nod of acceptance before turning around just to brainstorm another option, then deciding to throw pebbles at the street-view glass. that was rom-com-ish, right? maybe he could charm her enough to hear him out, to just listen from the top of the tower she'd barracaded herself in, to understand the love inside that begged to be seen.

although this attempt was completely ignored instead, anwar was not discouraged, finding his own resolve by his side; he'd either burn every bridge to joey in one fell swoop, or he'd make it to the other side unscathed. using a trick from his sisters who'd gushed over john cusack after watching that one movie from the 80s, anwar would head back inside only to emerge with the biggest boombox he could find propped on his shoulder, the tape she'd made for his 14th birthday already playing one of her favorite songs.

it took a moment (the entire first chorus) for a response, but soon a glossy-eyed and puffy-faced joey appeared in the window, arms still folded over her chest and brows still furrowed despite his determination.

'and you do your best to show me love.'

he held the boombox taller, stronger atop his shoulder as he watched the grip on her own arms loosen.

'but you don't know what love is.'

anwar offered a weak, apologetic, pathetic smile.

'so are you listening?'

finally, the outline of her smile would be revived as she let go of her flesh to pull the window pane up, lifting it over her head to lean over the edge. she couldn’t resist paramore.

"trying to get arrested?" she asks, obviously teasing although her tone remained the same as before.

anwar wouldn't waste even a second, setting the still-booming speaker on the ground to dive head first into redemption, calling up to her with a muddled and quivering voice.

"joey, i'm sorry! i'm sorry i'm not a better friend to you! i'm sorry i'm a hypocrite and a dick and a caveman and a jackass — i swear i'm good inside! i can be tender! i can be kind! please let me show you! i — i have all these feelings inside me and to you it's just words and you know i'm not good with my words!!"

joey pauses. there's a lot to sort through here and not a lot of context, so she's mid-filling in the gaps when he starts hollering again.

"i'm sorry about dominic! i know it was shitty — i just — i couldn't stand the thought of him — !" anwar nearly chokes on the words "i just wanted to make you jealous! i wanted to see if you felt as awful as i did! and i'm sorry, jo! i'm sorry i l—" he stops himself to gauge her reaction.

there is a smile of utter disbelief on her face now, teeth growing more and more visible as she stares down at him from her place on the second floor. even under the familiar streetlight he can see her cheeks blushing a deep red, eyes sparkling with what he'd describe as hope. with a deep breath and a leap of faith, anwar would finally say the three simple words that sealed the deal.

“i love you!!” anwar calls up to joey from his place on the sidewalk, the prince at the bottom of the tower calling up to the princess. and what does she say?

“i think about you when i touch myself!!”

anwar had never been so sure about anything in his life.

#[ anwar ]#anwar ✶ joey #anwar kharral skins #anwar skins #skins uk #anwar kharral #skins anwar #dev patel x reader #dev patel fanfic #dev patel imagines #dev patel imagine #dev patel #oc community #oc creation #oc x canon #ocs #oc #my ocs

41 notes · View notes