#ive been waiting for the day i get tagged or sent an ask

[jincapableoflove]

A Jar Full of Us | one-shot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, unrequited love (?), idiots to lovers, best friends to ??? to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut.

Summary: You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook—your best friend—knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before

Word count: 10.2K+

Warnings: arguments, jungkook is a jerk, misunderstandings (a lottt of it), angstttt, reader and jk are huge idiots, mutual pining, implied smut (its not too detailed so that the story maintains the emotional connectivity), romantic intimacy, tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: HERE IT ISSS! this is the longest fic ive written! tysm for all the support yall have given me in the teaser of this fic. i put out a taglist thinking no one would actually want to be a part of it but so many of yall asked to be tagged 😭 im so grateful! tysm i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writng it. lmk ur thoughts abt it after u read too <3 ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYY (someone date me pls)

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the dorm, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to study.

Joy, your roommate, is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside your bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box. You pull it out carefully, as if it were a fragile secret, and place it on your lap.

A soft breath escapes you as you grab a nearby pen and a book, neatly tearing out a tiny slip of paper. The motion is second nature now. Without even thinking, you let your emotions spill onto the paper, crafting a fleeting moment into something permanent.

Tonight’s memory is simple, but it still tugs at your heart. Jungkook had sent you another blurry picture of the moon, captioned with a casual, “Looks kinda pretty, right?” He knew how much you loved the moon��how it fascinated you in a way you could never quite put into words. And he had remembered. Of course, he had remembered.

A fond smile tugs at your lips as you write:

Jungkook remembers the little things.

Once the ink dries, you fold the note with care and add it to the collection. The box is almost full now, brimming with countless tiny confessions—whispers of feelings you’ve never had the courage to say aloud. A hundred little moments, a hundred little thoughts, all dedicated to the boy who had unknowingly stolen your heart.

Jungkook.

Jungkook, your best friend, who always saves you the last bite of his food, even when it’s his favorite. Jungkook, who sends you blurry pictures of the moon just because he knows you love them. Jungkook, who insists on studying with you, despite his major being entirely different from yours, just so he can make sure you actually open a book instead of procrastinating.

This little tradition of yours had started as a joke. One night, after an especially soft moment where Jungkook had wordlessly placed his hoodie over your head because you were shivering, you had scribbled on a piece of paper: Jungkook is warmer than the sun.

You had smiled to yourself as you rolled up the paper and dropped it into the box. It had felt oddly nice—preserving that moment, capturing the feeling of it in something tangible. So you did it again. And again. And again.

Until, one day, you realized you had written over a hundred of them.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love. And you certainly hadn’t planned to confess.

But each tiny slip of paper holds a truth your heart refuses to say aloud.

And you're going to keep it a secret forever.

You met Jungkook almost three years ago, during freshman year. The first time you met him, he had been infuriatingly kind.

You had been struggling under the weight of a precariously tall stack of books, barely able to see over them, when suddenly, a few disappeared from the top. Startled, you looked up to see Jungkook grinning at you, effortlessly holding the books you had nearly dropped.

"You looked like you were about to tip over," he teased, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

With a playful huff, you had responded, "Maybe I wanted it to tip over."

Jungkook had only laughed, shaking his head. "I'll catch you next time," he had promised.

That night, you had written a tiny note and slipped it into your box: He wants to catch me when I fall, even without me asking.

From that moment on, your friendship grew in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first. Midnight walks and late-night study sessions became routine, pulling you closer together with every shared moment. What had started as swapping notes for the one class you had together turned into sharing secrets. Somewhere along the way, before you even realized it, Jungkook had become your favorite person.

The box was almost full now.

You had written so many things over the years, each note capturing a small piece of him, a fragment of your feelings. Some were simple observations:

Jungkook frowns when he eats something delicious.

His hair is always a mess in the mornings. He hates it, but I love it.

His eyes smile before his lips do.

But one night, you had written something different. Something deeper. Something that felt like the truest thing you had ever put to paper.

I love him.

The moment the ink dried, panic had set in. You had almost torn it up, almost removed it from the box as if keeping it there would somehow make it real. But in the end, you had left it. Because the box was safe. No one was going to see it.

Especially not Jungkook.

One afternoon, you came back from your classes, ready to relax and unwind before the stress of exams fully set in. You had been looking forward to a quiet evening, maybe even a movie marathon with Jungkook to take your mind off things for a while.

But the moment you stepped into your dorm, you felt something was off.

Joy was sitting on the couch, sipping her coffee, her expression smug—too smug. A knowing smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she watched you walk in, and instantly, your stomach twisted with unease.

You narrowed your eyes. "What did you do?"

"I did you a favor," she said casually, taking another slow sip of her coffee.

A cold shiver ran down your spine. "What favor?" you asked, dread creeping into your voice.

Joy grinned. "I found that little cute box of yours."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

"Don't look at me like that," she waved a hand dismissively, as if what she was about to say wasn’t about to shatter your entire world. "It was just sitting there collecting dust, and I thought—what a perfect Valentine's Day gift for Jungkook. So…I wrapped it up and dropped it off at his place."

Silence.

A deafening, all-consuming silence as her words echoed in your head.

"You WHAT?!"

Your entire body froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as horror washed over you in waves. Your chest felt tight, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Joy merely raised an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by the sheer panic on your face. "You're welcome," she said cheekily—before promptly sprinting out of the room for her life.

But you couldn’t chase after her. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the ringing in your ears.

No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

Still desperate to deny the possibility, you dropped to your knees and scrambled to check under your bed, your hands shaking as you reached into the familiar space where you had hidden the box for years.

Empty.

It was gone.

The tiny wooden box that held a hundred little moments, a hundred little secrets—your secrets—was gone.

And now it was in Jungkook's hands.

Of all people…Jungkook.

Jungkook lived in an apartment a little further away from your dorm. The second the realization hit, you bolted out the door without a second thought, heart pounding so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Your plan was simple—get to his apartment before he did. You knew his habits well enough to guess that he was probably grabbing a late lunch at that fast-food place near campus. If luck was on your side, you still had time.

He hadn’t seen it yet.

He couldn’t have seen it yet.

As you ran, your mind spiraled into chaos, bombarding you with every possible scenario—each one worse than the last.

What if he had already opened it?

What if he read through every single note?

What if he found the one that said I love him?

Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Jungkook was your best friend.

He was your person.

And now, he might know that you wanted to be more than just friends.

The mere thought made your chest tighten as memories of the two of you flashed through your mind. The times you spent together at the arcade, the countless movie nights, the time you and Jungkook had crashed Jimin’s birthday party with a ridiculous amount of booze.

And then…there was that moment.

The moment you almost confessed.

"I wish I could find someone who truly understood me," he had said one night, his voice softer than usual, lost in thought.

And you had almost said it. The words had been on the tip of your tongue, so painfully close—"I do."

But you swallowed them down.

Because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if saying those words ruined everything?

And now, thanks to Joy, you didn’t have a choice anymore. The truth was out there, sitting in a neatly wrapped box in Jungkook’s apartment.

The thought of his reaction sent your mind into overdrive.

Would he laugh?

Would he think it was weird?

Would he—

Would he reject you?

No. No. No.

You shook your head violently as you rounded the corner, lungs burning from the sprint. You’re going to get there before he does. You’re going to take the box back, and he’s never going to know about it.

That was the plan.

It had to work.

As soon as you reached Jungkook’s apartment building, you barely paused to catch your breath. Your legs ached from running, but panic kept you moving. You made a beeline for the mailbox section in the lobby, frantically scanning the names, searching for his.

Box 109.

You yanked it open.

Empty.

Your stomach sank.

Maybe his roommate took it upstairs? Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe it was sitting untouched on the kitchen counter, still wrapped, still safe, still unseen.

You latched onto that sliver of hope as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the elevator. By the time you reached his floor, your hands were shaking. You raised a fist and knocked on the door, urgency making your knuckles sting.

No response.

You knocked again, harder this time.

Then—finally—you heard shuffling from inside. A few footsteps. The creak of the floorboards. A pause.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing right in front of you, framed in the dim light of his apartment, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that draped over his frame in a way that shouldn't have been so unfairly attractive. His dark hair was slightly damp, messy from a shower, strands falling into his eyes. His lips were parted in surprise, his brows slightly furrowed, and the expression on his face—confused yet soft, dangerously soft—made your already erratic heartbeat lurch violently.

But then, your gaze dropped to his hands.

And the world stopped.

The box.

The open box.

Your box.

Your secret, sacred collection of unsent confessions, of words meant only for the safety of your own solitude. The pieces of your heart you had never dared to show him.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

No, no, no, no—

"You—" You gasped, barely able to form words, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought for air. "You opened it?"

Jungkook blinked, holding the box loosely in one hand, fingers curled around the edges as if he had been going through its contents just moments ago. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah," he said simply, as if the weight of the universe hadn’t just come crashing down on you.

Oh. Oh no.

Your legs wobbled. You had to physically stop yourself from collapsing right there in front of him.

His gaze flickered downward, and you followed it instinctively. In his other hand, he held one of the notes. One of your notes. The handwriting was unmistakably yours, a little smudged, a little rushed, but still legible.

He cleared his throat, then read aloud.

"I don’t know when it happened. But one day, he became my favorite person."

Silence.

It stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

You thought you might actually pass out.

"Jungkook, I—" Your voice cracked, but before you could even attempt to explain, he looked up and met your eyes.

And then, to your absolute horror—

He smiled.

Not a teasing smirk, not an awkward grimace, but a real, genuine, knowing smile. A little shy, a little amused, as if the weight of what he had just discovered didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it did you.

And then—oh god—he spoke again.

"So… do you still think my hair looks best when it’s messy?"

Your breath hitched.

Your brain went blank.

You wanted to scream.

The change was almost instant.

In the days that followed, Jungkook became… different.

Not in the way you had imagined, though.

You had been bracing yourself for a talk—a conversation where he’d tell you gently, maybe even apologetically, that he didn’t feel the same way. Or, at the very least, a moment of awkwardness before things slowly went back to normal.

But instead, Jungkook just… pulled away.

It started subtly at first. He stopped texting as much. The late-night calls that once lasted for hours dwindled into one-word replies and seen messages. The casual lunch meetups, the spontaneous arcade runs, the easy, natural way he used to gravitate towards you in a crowded room—all of it changed.

And yet, despite the distance, he never fully let you go.

Instead, he turned it into a joke.

Like today, when he leaned in—far too close for comfort—during your shared class. His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of his breath fanning against your ear.

"So, I’m warmer than the sun, huh?"

You stiffened instantly, your hands tightening around your pen. He pulled back with a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with mischief as he watched your reaction unfold in real-time.

It was unbearable.

He kept doing it.

Whenever you tried to talk to him—really talk to him—he would either dodge the conversation entirely or turn it into something lighthearted, something unserious.

Like the time you finally found him alone, determined to just get it over with, to ask what had changed between you two. Before you could even get the words out, he cut you off with another one of those smirks, his voice laced with amusement.

"So I look best in black? Good to know."

And then he walked away.

That was when you finally got the message.

Jungkook had taken it as a joke.

He didn’t care about your feelings.

It was like the caring, affectionate boy you had known for years had vanished the moment your heart had been laid bare. Like now that the truth was out in the open, he didn’t know how to handle it—so he chose to mock it instead.

And worst of all?

He was pulling away from you completely.

The time you used to spend together? Gone. He was hanging out with other people now, filling his days with anyone but you. And when you did manage to cross paths, he only acknowledged you through those insufferable little comments, those cruel reminders of the things you had never meant for him to see.

It hurt. More than you wanted to admit.

Because maybe—just maybe—you had hoped that if he knew how you felt…

He wouldn’t push you away like this.

The next week brought the on-campus career fair—an event mandatory for all students. You weren’t particularly excited about it, but at least it was a distraction, something to keep your mind occupied.

Or so you thought.

Because that’s when you saw him.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was walking around with Hana, a junior from your college. They moved easily through the crowd, side by side, completely immersed in conversation. And then, to make things even worse—he laughed.

A real laugh. The kind that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle, the kind you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

Your stomach twisted.

You weren’t expecting him to make it this obvious.

If he wanted to reject you, fine. If he didn’t feel the same way, you could live with that. But did he really have to parade it around like this?

Maybe this was his way of sending a message. Maybe he wanted you to know, without actually having to say it out loud.

A silent rejection.

What a jerk.

These days, you barely have the motivation to attend classes. You go through the motions—waking up, dragging yourself to campus, sitting through lectures—but your mind isn’t really there.

Because no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, the brutal reality of rejection lingers like a shadow, following you everywhere you go.

Jungkook threw away your feelings like they meant nothing.

You should have expected it, right? You should have known this was how it would turn out.

Maybe you were never meant to be anything more than a friend to him. Maybe, the moment he realized you held deeper feelings for him, he got scared. Or worse—maybe he just didn’t care at all.

The thought makes your chest ache.

Jungkook has always been a romantic at heart. You’ve seen it in the way he talks about love, in the way he watches romance movies with a dreamy look in his eyes. But clearly, you were never part of that dream.

And now, because of your stupid feelings, you’ve ruined everything.

You used to be his best friend. The one he joked around with, the one he trusted, the one he leaned on.

But now?

Now he barely looks at you.

And if he does, it's only to throw some teasing remark your way—like your feelings were some kind of joke.

The person you were most angry at was Joy.

Not Jungkook. Not yourself.

Joy.

Because none of this would have happened if she had just left that damn box alone.

That day after the box incident, the moment you stepped back into your dorm, she was there, lounging on the couch like nothing had happened. She glanced up as you walked in, a smirk already forming on her lips.

“I didn’t expect you to come back so early. I thought you guys would—” she wiggled her eyebrows—“get freaky after the whole confession, you know?”

She laughed, expecting you to groan or throw a pillow at her like usual.

But then she saw your face.

Her laughter faded. “Wait… what happened?”

You didn’t answer. You just walked past her and sank into the couch, staring at nothing, your mind still replaying every moment from earlier—Jungkook’s teasing, his smirk, his distance.

You heard Joy shuffle closer, her voice softer now. “I… I’m sorry. Did I send the gift too early? Did Jungkook not like it?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, no, he loved it.” You turned to her, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you so much for your help, Joy.”

Her expression faltered. “Wait… what do you mean?”

You shook your head, exhaling sharply. “Jungkook probably thinks I’m pathetic now.”

Joy winced. She sat beside you on the couch, guilt written all over her face. “I— I really thought—” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I was so sure, though. That boy always had heart eyes for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, now you know he didn’t.”

Silence settled between you both.

And for the first time, Joy didn’t have anything to say.

The next time you see Jungkook, he’s with Hana again.

They’re standing by one of the campus notice boards, deep in conversation. You don’t mean to eavesdrop—you’re not even sure why you stop—but the moment you hear them talking, something in your gut tells you to listen.

Hana tilts her head, her voice low but clear. “Are you sure she won't find out?”

Jungkook sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know… Maybe it's better this way”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your first instinct is denial—maybe they’re not talking about you. Maybe it’s about someone else entirely. But deep down, you know.

As far as you’re aware, there isn’t another she in Jungkook’s life. Not before. Not when you were still close.

You’ve already been replaced.

Your chest aches as you piece it together. He doesn't want you to find out—because he's probably in a relationship with Hana now. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you with a direct rejection, he thinks hiding his relationship with her is the kinder option.

It isn’t.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force yourself to step back, turning away from the scene before you can hear any more.

You decide then—no matter how much it hurts, no matter how pathetic it makes you feel—you can’t bear being apart from Jungkook.

Even if he doesn’t love you back.

Even if he only sees you as a friend.

Losing him completely? That’s not something you’re ready for. Maybe you never will be.

So, you do the only thing you can think of.

You wait for him after class.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you watch the door, your hands clammy with nerves. When Jungkook finally steps out, your breath catches. He looks the same—same hoodie, same soft brown eyes—but everything feels different now.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward.

"I get it, okay?" you say, voice firm despite the way your throat tightens. "You don’t like me. And that’s fine. I hope she makes you happy."

Jungkook halts mid-step.

His jaw clenches. His fists curl at his sides.

"You don’t understand," he mutters.

"Then make me understand, Jungkook," you plead. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to keep going, even as your last shred of dignity slips through your fingers. "Can we still be friends, at least?"

Silence.

Jungkook doesn’t reply.

And somehow, that hurts more than rejection ever could.

There's a party happening, hosted by one of the biggest party animals on campus. Everyone is invited, and Joy insists that you go.

After much convincing, you finally give in. You've mended things with her—finally forgiven her. Maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault. Maybe you just needed someone to blame.

You decide to go, hoping for a distraction. Maybe the music, the drinks, and the endless chatter will help you forget, even if just for a night.

But you already know Jungkook will be there.

Probably Hana too.

And that's fine.

You'll just stay out of their way.

The party is in full swing when you arrive—loud music, flashing lights, bodies moving wildly on the dance floor, and the unmistakable smell of booze in the air. Bottles are being passed around, and the energy is electric.

A few friends from your classes spot you and pull you in, offering drinks. You take them all without hesitation, reaching for the strongest ones, letting the alcohol burn away the ache in your chest.

Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Good. Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe you can actually enjoy yourself tonight.

With the alcohol settling in, your limbs feel lighter, your mind a little hazy. You dance to the outdated playlist blaring through the speakers, laugh with strangers, and let yourself let go—just for a while.

But after some time, it all feels like too much. The heat, the noise, the overwhelming buzz in your veins. You slip away from the crowd and make your way to the rooftop, breathing in the crisp night air, letting it cool your flushed skin.

And then you sense it—someone else's presence.

You turn, your head spinning slightly, and there he is.

Jungkook.

You blink, wondering if you're imagining him, but his gaze is fixed on you, a slight furrow between his brows. There's something like concern in his expression as he watches you, taking in your drunken state.

Your heart stumbles in your chest.

The alcohol makes everything feel lighter—your body, your thoughts, your inhibitions. So when you see Jungkook standing there, looking at you with that unreadable expression, the words just spill out before you can stop them.

“I liked you, you know,” you mumble, swaying slightly. “But now I realize… I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook doesn’t react. No apology, no denial, not even a flicker of emotion across his face.

He just exhales softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ll be fine,” he says simply, then turns on his heel and walks away.

Just like that.

The cool night air suddenly feels suffocating, the weight in your chest heavier than ever. You watch his retreating figure, your heart shattering all over again.

The next morning, you wake up with the nastiest headache ever. Your head throbs, your mouth is dry, and your body feels like it’s been wrung out. You groan, forcing yourself to sit up as the hazy memories from last night slowly piece themselves together.

Jungkook. The rooftop. The way he just… walked away like he didn’t care.

You shake the thought from your mind, dragging yourself out of bed. There’s no point dwelling on it. Your exams are approaching, and you need to focus.

Deciding to get some studying done, you head to the library. The quiet atmosphere should help clear your head—or at least distract you from the mess that is your life.

But the moment you step inside, your breath catches.

Jungkook is sitting at the table you both used to frequent, completely absorbed in scribbling something into a notebook. For a second, you consider turning around, but then something catches your eye.

He rips out a small piece of paper, folds it neatly, and—without hesitation—slips it into a glass jar sitting beside him.

Your heart clenches.

Is it for Hana?

You don’t stick around to find out. Before Jungkook can notice you, you turn on your heel and walk away.

February 10th. Your birthday.

You wake up with a small flicker of hope. Maybe today would be different. Maybe Jungkook had been ignoring you all this time because he was planning something—some kind of surprise. That had to be it, right?

Surely.

So you wait.

By 3 PM, your phone is filled with messages—friends, family, even distant relatives reaching out to wish you. Everyone but Jungkook.

Not even a single text.

The hope that had carried you through the day starts to crumble, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t go to class. What’s the point? This might just be the worst birthday ever.

That’s when Joy bursts into your room with a grin.

"You got a package!" she announces, holding out a neatly wrapped box.

Your heart leaps.

Jungkook?

You rush over, fingers fumbling as you tear open the wrapping—only for your stomach to drop.

It’s from your parents.

Disappointment washes over you, but you push it aside. They went through the trouble of sending you something, and you should be grateful. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile as you pick up your phone and call them.

"Thank you," you say, voice steady. Because at least someone remembered.

There was still time.

It was only evening—plenty of hours left before midnight. Jungkook would surely text before then. He had to.

Joy, noticing your gloomy mood, tries to lift your spirits. "Come on, let’s go out drinking. Have some fun, at least for your birthday."

But you shake your head. "I’m not in the mood."

She sighs, clearly frustrated but doesn’t push you. Instead, she flops onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. "I hate this," she mutters. "I hate seeing you like this. And I hate him for treating you this way."

Her voice is laced with anger, but there’s something else there too—guilt.

Because deep down, Joy still blames herself.

If she hadn’t sent that gift early, if she hadn’t tried to play cupid, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe you wouldn’t be spending your birthday like this—waiting for a boy who might never come around.

Jungkook didn’t text that day.

He forgot your birthday.

You waited all day, checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a message that never came. Midnight passed, and still—nothing.

The realization settles deep in your chest, heavier than you expected. You feel pathetic.

Pathetic for hoping. Pathetic for waiting. Pathetic for still caring.

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day.

You can’t afford to miss any more classes. You haven’t stepped foot on campus since your birthday, but today, you decide to go.

You have no motivation to see or talk to anyone. You tell yourself that you’ll just quietly attend your classes and head straight back home. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions.

But as soon as you reach campus, you notice a crowd gathering. There’s some kind of matchmaking event happening for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

Great. Just great.

Everything about it feels like the universe is mocking you, rubbing salt on an already raw wound. Heart-shaped decorations, pink confetti floating in the air, and couples laughing—completely oblivious to how suffocating it feels for you.

You try to move past the crowd, but suddenly, someone pushes forward, and you get caught in the chaos. You stumble, losing your balance—bracing for impact—

But you don’t hit the ground.

Because Jungkook catches you.

His hands grip your arms, steadying you out of instinct. His touch is firm and warm, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

For the first time in days, you look up at him. And for the first time in days, he looks right back at you.

He doesn’t let go of you immediately.

His grip stays firm, his fingers pressing into your arms like he’s grounding himself, like he’s hesitating. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightly—like he’s about to say something.

The music playing in the background fades into a distant hum. Everything around you slows. The laughter, the chatter, the festival lights—it all blurs.

All that’s left is him.

Still holding you.

Your voice barely comes out, a whisper against the space between you.

“Do you even care, Jungkook?”

His hands tighten for a fraction of a second. His jaw clenches. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you think you see something—something raw and unspoken flash through his eyes.

But then, like a switch flipping, he lets go.

So fast that you nearly stumble again.

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words cut through the air, sharp and merciless.

Then he turns. Walks away.

And you’re left standing there, alone in the middle of a festival meant for love.

This is it.

This is your answer.

Jungkook has made his choice.

And now, it’s time for you to make yours.

You have to move on.

That night, you decide—Jungkook was never meant to be yours.

It’s a painful truth, one you’ve been avoiding, but tonight, you accept it.

Needing a distraction, you start clearing out your closet, pulling out old clothes, forgotten trinkets, anything to keep your hands busy. That’s when you see it.

The pink heart-shaped box.

Your breath hitches.

You had snatched it from his hands that day, barely able to meet his gaze before bolting out of his apartment and driving straight back to your dorm. You had shoved it deep into your closet, hoping that if you buried it away, you could bury your feelings too.

For a moment, you consider throwing it away. What’s the point of holding onto it now? Jungkook knows. He read the notes, saw every piece of your heart laid bare. And in the end, it changed nothing.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid.

One by one, you pull out the little folded papers, unfolding memories you once held so close.

"I don’t know when it happened, but one day, he became my favourite person."

"His laugh is my favorite sound."

"I wish he knew how much he means to me."

Tears blur your vision.

You never wanted him to know.

Because you never wanted to lose him.

And now, you have.

The weight of it crashes over you all at once, and before you can stop it, the tears spill over, hot and relentless.

You clutch the notes to your chest as silent sobs wrack your body.

You’ve been holding the pain in for too long.

So tonight, you let the dams break.

And you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You feel miserable.

Forget having a Valentine this year—you don’t even have a best friend anymore.

So you stay in bed all day, buried under the covers, refusing to acknowledge the world outside.

Your mind drifts, unbidden, to last year’s Valentine’s Day.

You and Jungkook had gone out for dinner—not as lovers, not as anything more than friends, just two people who didn’t have dates. You remember how he laughed at the terrible restaurant music, how he stole fries from your plate like they were his.

You miss it.

No—wait. You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Shaking off the thought, you grab your Nintendo Switch and start playing, trying to distract yourself.

Then the doorbell rings.

You ignore it. Joy is probably home—she’ll get it.

But it rings again.

What is Joy doing?

Then it hits you—she probably stayed over at her boyfriend’s place last night.

With a groan, you push off the covers and make your way to the door. You swing it open, ready to shoo away whoever it is—

But there’s no one there.

Your gaze drops to the ground.

And then you see it.

A singular jar, placed carefully on the doormat.

You stare at the jar, a strange sense of familiarity creeping in, but you can’t quite place it.

Where have you seen something like this before?

Your mind scrambles for an answer, flipping through memories like pages in a book, but nothing surfaces.

With hesitant fingers, you reach down and pick it up, feeling the cool glass against your palm. It’s heavier than you expected.

That’s when you notice the writing on the lid, scrawled in red marker.

"To Y/N."

Your heart stutters.

You blink, trying to steady your breath, but the moment feels unreal—like you’ve stepped into a dream.

It’s only then that you notice the jar is filled with tiny rolled-up notes, crammed inside like secrets waiting to be unraveled.

Your mind starts spiraling.

What is this? Who left it? Why does it have your name?

Your hands tremble as you twist the lid open, the slight pop of the seal echoing in the silence.

You reach inside, fingers brushing against the countless little slips of paper.

With bated breath, you pull one out.

You carefully unroll it, eyes scanning the words scribbled in rushed, familiar handwriting.

"I lied."

That’s all it says.

Two words.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes trace the messy yet unmistakable handwriting.

Jungkook.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your pulse quickens.

It’s his.

The realization slams into you with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.

Your breath turns shallow as the memory crashes into you—

Yesterday.

The crowd. The music. The overwhelming blur of people around you.

You had stumbled, nearly falling, only for Jungkook to catch you. For a fleeting moment, he held you close. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

You had searched his face, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you even care, Jungkook?"

You had wanted him to say yes. Even a little. Anything to make the ache in your chest feel less unbearable.

But instead—

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words had cut deeper than you ever thought possible.

And then he had let go. So fast, like touching you had burned him. Like you meant nothing at all.

You remember the way your heart had cracked, the way he had disappeared into the sea of people, leaving you stranded in the middle of a festival meant for love.

But now—

Now you stand here, gripping a jar full of his words.

"I lied."

Your hands fumble as you reach into the jar again, pulling out another note.

Unrolling it with shaky fingers, you read:

"I thought if I pushed you away, it’d be easier for you to move on. But the truth is, I don’t want you to."

A sharp pang strikes your chest.

Your mind reels, and suddenly, you're back at the rooftop party—drunk, vulnerable, spilling your heart out in slurred words.

“I liked you, you know? But now I realize I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook had stood there, silent, unreadable, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

No apology. No denial. Nothing.

And then, just as effortlessly, he had turned away.

"You'll be fine," he'd said before walking off, leaving you alone in the cold night.

The memory burns like an open wound, and yet, here you are, standing in your doorway, holding the truth he should have told you that night in the palm of your hands.

Your fingers tremble as you pull out the next note.

"I missed your birthday on purpose because I wanted to give you something that lasts longer than a text."

Your breath hitches.

He didn’t forget?

He chose not to text?

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, but it fades just as quickly as the weight of his words settles in.

You reach into the jar again, pulling out another note, heart pounding against your ribs.

What you didn’t know was—

Jungkook had spent hours writing your birthday note.

He had sat at his desk that night, a dozen crumpled papers around him, rewriting the same message over and over, never satisfied. His hands had been shaky when he finally folded the note and slipped it into the jar.

Because words were permanent.

Because he was afraid.

Because deep down, he knew—if he told you how much you really meant to him, he wouldn’t be able to push you away anymore.

And that terrified him.

Your grip on the jar tightens as you pull out the next note.

"I was scared you’d see me in the library that day. And you did. I almost stopped writing. But I wanted to finish this for you."

Your breath catches in your throat as a memory rushes back—

The library.

That afternoon, when you had finally dragged yourself back to campus to study for your exams, you had seen him sitting at your usual table, scribbling something into his notebook.

At the time, you thought nothing of it—until you watched him tear out a tiny slip of paper and slip it into a jar.

A jar.

The very same one you now hold in your trembling hands.

Back then, you had turned away, assuming it was for Hana.

But it wasn’t.

It was for you.

Every note in this jar was for you.

Your vision blurs as you stare down at the tiny rolled-up messages still waiting to be read.

He had been writing to you all along.

By the time you reach the last few notes, your hands are trembling. Maybe you can’t even read them through the tears clouding your vision. The weight of all those misunderstandings—every ignored confession, every painful silence, every moment you thought he didn’t care—crashes down on you all at once.

Your breath is uneven as you unroll another slip of paper.

"You thought I didn’t care. But I did. I always did."

A sob escapes your lips, the ache in your chest unbearable.

You clutch the jar against you like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held—because it is. Because it’s him.

Every unspoken word. Every hidden feeling. Every truth he was too afraid to say aloud.

And now, you finally know.

Your breath catches as you reach the bottom of the jar, realizing the significance—there are exactly 100 notes, just like the box you once gave him.

With shaky hands, you pull out the 99th note.

“I was always bad at saying things out loud. So I wrote them instead. I just hope it’s not too late for you to read them.”

Your chest tightens.

You take a deep breath and reach for the last note, your fingers trembling. Slowly, you unroll it, heart pounding in your ears.

“Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

The paper almost slips from your fingers as your vision blurs with fresh tears. A shaky laugh escapes your lips, somewhere between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

After everything, after all the silence, the pain, the misunderstandings—he’s finally saying it.

And suddenly, all that matters is what you’ll do next.

The moment the words register, you don’t think.

The jar nearly slips from your grasp as you scramble to your feet, your heartbeat hammering louder than the thoughts racing through your mind. Jungkook. He couldn’t have gone far—he must have just dropped it off.

You fling the door open, barefoot, barely even stopping to grab your keys. The cold air bites at your skin, but you don’t care. You sprint down the stairs, nearly stumbling in your rush to get outside.

Your eyes dart wildly around the street, your breath coming out in frantic puffs. Where is he?

Then, you see him.

A few feet away, Jungkook is walking slowly, hands in his pockets, head low like he’s already bracing for disappointment. Like he’s already convinced you won’t come after him.

But you do.

“Jungkook!”

He freezes.

You don’t stop running until you’re right in front of him, breathless, clutching the jar close to your chest like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment.

His eyes widen when he sees you—messy hair, no shoes, trembling hands still gripping his gift like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You swallow hard, voice shaking. “Did you mean it?”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, the night stretching between you like a fragile thread.

Then, barely above a whisper—“Yeah.”

Your chest heaves, breath uneven, voice shaking as you clutch the jar tighter.

"You absolute—jerk." Your voice wavers, but the anger, the hurt, the sheer weight of everything he’s put you through spills out in every word. "You sat there, letting me think I meant nothing to you. And the whole time, you were—" You shake the jar, almost laughing in disbelief. "—writing these?"

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He just stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tight, like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say next.

"You could’ve just told me, Jungkook. You could’ve just—" You pause, gripping the jar like it’s the only thing holding you together. "Why? Why lie to me?"

He exhales sharply, his voice rough, like he’s been holding it in for too long.

"Because I was a coward."

You blink. You weren’t expecting him to admit it so easily.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, looking away. "I thought pushing you away was the right thing to do. If I let you think I didn’t care, maybe you’d move on. Maybe you’d find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like I did."

Your throat tightens. Your fingers dig into the glass of the jar. "You were the one hurting me, Jungkook."

His eyes finally meet yours, and the weight of them almost knocks the air from your lungs. He looks wrecked.

"I know." His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Then why?" Your voice trembles, frustration bubbling over. "Why did you let me think I was chasing something that wasn’t even there?"

His jaw clenches, and for a second, he doesn’t answer. But then, his voice comes, low and raw.

"Because I was afraid you’d realize you deserved better."

Silence settles between you. A silence so thick it presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You stare at him, your vision blurring. You should walk away. You should scream, cry—anything. But instead, you do the only thing you can think of.

You reach into the jar, grab a note at random, and shove it into his hand. "Read it."

Jungkook hesitates. Then, slowly, he unfolds the paper. His fingers tremble as he reads the words he once wrote.

"If I had been braver, I would’ve told you every single day how much you meant to me."

He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the paper like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with something you can’t quite name.

"Say it now," you whisper.

Jungkook's breath catches. His grip on the note tightens like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

You wait. Trembling, heart pounding, eyes locked onto his. Daring him to finally, finally say it.

He exhales shakily. His voice is low, rough—like it hurts to speak, but he does anyway.

"Y/N…"

You don’t look away. Don’t let him run from this.

His throat bobs. His hand curls into a fist at his side, then slowly unclenches.

"I love you."

A sharp inhale cuts through you. Even though you were waiting for it, the words hit like a tidal wave.

Jungkook shakes his head, almost laughing, but there’s no humor in it—just raw, aching regret.

"I loved you then. I love you now. And I don’t think there’s a single version of me that won’t love you."

Your vision blurs, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.

"Then why—" your voice cracks, "—why did you let me think you didn’t?"

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. His face twists with something close to pain.

"Because I was scared." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Scared that if I let myself have you, I’d ruin you. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth it."

Your hands clench at your sides. "You don’t get to decide that for me."

He nods. Swallows hard. Takes a step closer.

"I know." His voice is softer now. "And if I could go back, I’d do it all differently. But I can’t. All I can do is stand here and tell you—"

Your lips crash into his, years of longing and heartbreak unraveling in a single, desperate moment. Your fingers fist into his jacket, pulling him closer, closing the distance like you’ve been waiting forever. Because you have.

Jungkook catches you. His arms wind tight around your waist, grounding you, anchoring you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. His grip is firm, unyielding, as if holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The kiss isn’t soft—it’s frantic, raw, filled with all the words you never got to say. It’s a confession, an apology, a plea. His lips move against yours with urgency, pouring everything into it, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent pushing you away.

Jungkook tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs through you as his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand spreads against your back, pressing you impossibly closer, like even this isn’t enough, like he’d fuse you together if he could.

You melt. Every wall you built, every ounce of anger, every misunderstanding—crumbling, dissolving into the heat of him. The way he kisses you feels like an answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking. Like a promise.

When you finally pull apart, neither of you lets go.

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, still uneven, still shaken. His hands remain on your waist like he’s afraid that the second he lets go, this will all disappear.

Your fingers stay curled in his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His voice is raw when he finally speaks, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

You exhale, shaking your head, the weight of everything still pressing against your chest. Your voice is quiet, but steady. “Then spend every day proving that you do.”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh—one that sounds broken and real, like he can’t believe he’s still allowed to have this moment with you.

“Deal,” he murmurs.

And then he kisses you again.

The door barely clicks shut before Jungkook is on you again, his hands framing your face as his lips crash into yours. There’s no hesitation now, no careful restraint—only heat, only the raw, aching need that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

His body presses against yours, pushing you back into the door, and you gasp against his lips. He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours with slow, deliberate intent. He tastes like something addictive—like want, like longing, like the kind of hunger that makes your stomach tighten and your knees go weak.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer. His hands roam down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips skimming along your bare skin. His touch is scorching, leaving a trail of fire wherever he moves. He pauses, his breath ragged, lips barely brushing yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice rough, uneven.

You shake your head, tilting your chin up until your lips ghost over his again. "I don’t want you to stop."

The words break something inside him.

His mouth crashes onto yours again, hungrier this time, more desperate. His hands slide up your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hard lines of his body, the way his chest rises and falls unsteadily against yours. One hand grips your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shudder, while the other slides lower, gripping your thigh and hitching it up against his hip.

A quiet moan escapes you at the feeling, and he groans in response, pressing harder into you. His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, where he lingers. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin before he soothes it with his tongue, sucking gently, enough to make you arch into him, enough to make your breath hitch.

"Jungkook—" His name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and he exhales sharply against your skin, like the sound is enough to undo him.

His grip tightens as he lifts you effortlessly, hands settling under your thighs. Instinct takes over, and your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you across the room. He lays you down on the bed with care, but there’s nothing careful about the way he follows you down, covering your body with his own.

He hovers above you, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes searching yours. His thumb brushes over your cheek, then lower, tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his touch unbearably light.

"You’re sure?" he whispers, voice thick with something heady.

Your only answer is a whispered "Yes," breathless, certain.

Something shifts in him at your words. His lips find yours again, but this time, he takes his time—exploring, savoring, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you. His kisses trail downward, along the curve of your neck, across your collarbone, his mouth mapping out a path of heat and sensation. His hands move with just as much purpose, slipping under fabric, pushing it aside, fingers tracing bare skin with an intimacy that makes your pulse stutter.

Every brush of his lips, every slow, deliberate touch sends waves of electricity through you, igniting something deep and primal. Clothes are discarded in slow, teasing movements, the heat between you building with every layer that falls away.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, down your arm, over the curve of your breasts, his breath hot and uneven. He watches you, eyes dark with something intense, something almost reverent, as his fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along your bare skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, voice filled with something deeper than desire.

You reach for him, pulling him back up, needing his mouth on yours again, needing more. He obliges, kissing you fiercely, like he never wants to stop, like this moment has been waiting to happen for far too long.

His hands explore moving towards your heat, his touch reverent yet possessive, like he’s memorizing every inch of you, like he’s making up for all the lost time. You arch into him, breath hitching, hands gripping onto his shoulders as heat coils low in your stomach.

"Jungkook," you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

His breath catches, and he exhales shakily. "I’ve got you," he murmurs against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. "I’m right here."

And then there’s no more talking—only movement, only passion, only the feeling of finally, finally being exactly where you both belong.

The air is thick with warmth, bodies tangled beneath the sheets, hearts pounding in tandem as the last echoes of your shared breaths settle between you. The world outside might still be turning, but in this moment, it doesn’t exist. It’s just you and him, skin against skin, the weight of what just happened pressing down like the softest, heaviest thing in the world.

Your body is spent, muscles trembling faintly from the aftershocks, but you don’t move. You can’t.

Jungkook is still holding you. One arm draped lazily around your waist, the other tracing absentminded patterns against your back. His touch is slow, soothing, like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real. Like if he lets go, you might slip away.

You stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling in sync, your head resting just above his heart. The rhythm of it is steady now, no longer racing like it had been just moments ago. Still, there’s a softness to it, an unspoken question lingering in the quiet space between you.

It’s you who finally breaks it.

“So…” You shift slightly, fingers trailing absentmindedly along his chest. “Hana knew about the jar?”

His hand stills for the briefest moment before he exhales a small, breathy laugh. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but there’s amusement in it too.

“She didn’t just know about it.” His fingers resume their slow, idle circles against your bare skin. “It was her idea.”

You blink. “…What?”

Jungkook hums in confirmation, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Yeah. She was the one who told me to do it—to fill a jar with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t.” He pauses, then adds, “She also threatened to expose me if I didn’t.”

You scoff, though you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. “So let me get this straight… You couldn’t tell me how you felt, but you told Hana?”

Jungkook turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the amusement in them is undeniable. “I didn’t tell her. She just… figured it out.”

Of course, she did.

You huff, feigning annoyance, but your fingers betray you, tracing soft, aimless patterns along his collarbone. “Still. She knew before I did.”

Jungkook grins, rolling onto his side to face you fully. One hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His voice is low when he asks, “Are you jealous?”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

His laughter vibrates against your skin, rich and warm, before he dips down to kiss you—slow and lingering, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into it. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

Then, softer now, more serious, he murmurs, “Are you gonna answer me?”

Your brow furrows slightly. “Answer what?”

Jungkook leans over, reaching toward the nightstand where the jar still sits, its notes untouched—except for the last one.

“The question,” he says, retrieving the single unfolded slip of paper. He holds it between you, and even though you already know what it says, your heart still stutters when your eyes skim over the words again.

Y/N, will you be my Valentine?

Earlier, you had left it unanswered, too overwhelmed by everything that had come before it. But now, after everything—after confessions, after heartbreak, after finally finding each other again—there’s no hesitation.

You reach out, plucking the note from his fingers. Slowly, carefully, you fold it again, tucking it beneath your pillow like something precious, something worth keeping. Then, meeting his gaze, you whisper, “You never needed to ask.”

Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky, like something inside him has finally settled. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s memorizing the moment.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Your breath catches. Not because of his confidence—but because, deep down, you realize you’d never wanted to say no in the first place. Maybe you had tried to fight it. Maybe you had convinced yourself that the past had built too many walls between you. But now, lying here in the warmth of his arms, the truth settles into your bones like something that had been waiting for you to accept it all along.

It had always been him.

Your fingers tighten in the sheets as you search his gaze, looking for hesitation, for doubt—for something to make this feel less like a dream. But there’s nothing. Just him. Just you. Just this moment you both fought so hard to reach.

Jungkook watches you, waiting, always waiting, his hand still resting against your cheek as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

So you close the distance.

You kiss him slowly this time, letting it sink in. The warmth of his lips, the taste of him still lingering, the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing the same air, hearts beating in time.

And then, with a quiet, knowing smile, you whisper, “Then don’t.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, his expression shifting—softening, melting—as if those two words had knocked down every last barrier between you. And maybe they had. Because before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you against him again, tucking you close, his hand slipping into yours beneath the sheets.

Neither of you speak for a long time after that. You don’t need to.

Outside, the world keeps turning, time moving forward just as it always does. But here, in the hush of your dorm room, wrapped up in him, it feels like the universe has paused just for you.

Not to make up for lost time.

But to remind you that some things—some people—were never really lost at all.

And maybe, just maybe, they never would be.

EPILOGUE : Years Later – Valentine’s Day

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the apartment, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to pick a restaurant instead of saying, “Anything’s fine.”

Jungkook is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside the bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box.

But this time, there’s something else.

Your fingers find the jar—the one that started it all.

You pull them both out carefully, as if they were a fragile secret, and place them on your lap.

Soft footsteps approach. Then, a familiar weight sinks onto the mattress beside you.

Jungkook’s voice is quieter now, fond. “Didn’t think I’d see those again.”

You smile, running a thumb over the worn edges of the box before glancing at him. “I don’t know what made me reach for them.”

He hums, gaze flickering between the objects in your hands. “Habit, maybe. Or fate.” Then, smirking, “You always did have a thing for digging up answers.”

Rolling your eyes, you pop the lid off the jar, fingers fishing out an old note. The paper is creased, the ink slightly faded, but you already know what it says.

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine?"

Jungkook watches you, expectant. “You never actually answered me, you know.”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “Jungkook, we’re literally married.”

“And?” He leans in, teasing. “I’m just saying, a verbal confirmation wouldn’t hurt.”

You scoff but humor him anyway, fingers curling into his sweater as you whisper against his lips—

"Yes, Jungkook. I’ll be your Valentine."

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in. The jar sits forgotten on the floor, the pink box nestled beside it.

Once upon a time, you had pulled it out, searching for clarity. Looking for a sign.

You didn’t realize then—you never needed the answers inside.

Because you’d already found them.

Because you’d found him.

And maybe that was the answer all along.

taglist: @iamstilljk @hirochan112 @withluvjm @amarawayne @jeon-has-left-you-on-seen @blueofocean @tattzjeon @tsick @stuti2904 @gukkiebabysblog @taekritimin123 @whisperingonyx @sadgirlroo @nerdycheol @hoshiskimchi @blueberriesm @kooksrqcer @minimoninini @dreamersparacosm @yok00k @whothefuckisthishoe @prxdajeon @darkangelfei @sunainasworld @kia091106 @khadeeeeej @welcometomyworld13 @noshametempo @bakuhoethotski @ohyeah35sworld

thank you so much for reading! let me know what u think about it <3

[hailsatanacab]

🍷🫦 -🧛

🫦 <- there's a lip bite emoji now????

[c4qwp]

felix catton x fem!reader

| he falls hard for you

📎 tags : fluff, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix bc i’m such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, (my first post…), felix being a fucking cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned

📎 words count : oof idk but not a lot 💀🔥🔥🔥😜😜😜

📎 author's note : this is my first post (so first story), don’t hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn’t my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

felix was a charming, flirty, wealthy and captivating man. everyone loved him. everyone wanted to be around him. it exhausted him. people just wouldn't leave him alone. especially the girls. but he didn’t care about them, you were the exception.

you've only known felix for 6 months, but that hasn't stopped you from liking each other's personalities —and physiques. you're a new student from california studying at oxford, and the handsome british guy hasn't stopped coming to see you to find out more about you.

it all started with a laugh he heard in the hallway. a cute one he thought. and that's how he first saw you.

"hello?" you called loudly when you noticed eyes on you.

the sunlight illuminated felix perfectly as he met your gaze. you were just too cute. your doe eyes watching him while scanning him up and down due to his height.

"hey sorry- ive never seen you here before, are you new?" he asked.

as you were telling your friend to wait for you, an other guy appeared besides the stranger.

"felix where the fuck have you been mate??" a man with curly hair said.

"dude i’m busy let’s talk later" felix replied.

"hey sor-"

and you were gone.

felix didn’t even catch your name and it disappointed him. he likes to meet new people, even more when they’re cute like you.

a month passed after this rather short meeting. as you were revising in the library, a voice called out to you.

"oh hey arent you the new student?"

felix. you heard about him, only good thingd though. you’ve met him but his — pretty face, made you speechless. you felt shy in front of him. now there you are, sitting like an idiot and saying nothing. gosh.

"oh — uhmm hey!" you relied a bit nervously.

"hey! sorry i think we'd met before but hadn't talked more" he said.

"yes i remember." you introduced yourself and smiled.

"i’m felix catton nice to meet you as well" he smiled in turn.

"yeahh i heard about you, felix" you smirked and closed your book.

"oh yeah? i hope you've heard good things about me haha" he said.

"mmhh who knows?" you teased him.

while there was a small blank, he glimpsed your book.

"wait aint no way you’re reading harry potter?!" he said, trying to whisper as much as possible so as not to disturb the other students.

"way. i really like reading books. they're better than movies. and this is not the first time that i’m reading it." you replied.

"it’s my favorite book and it feels good to meet someone who thinks the same about it." he said with a big smile on his face.

it was getting late and you had to get back to your dorm to phone your best friend, who unfortunately wasn't at the same university as you. you exchanged phone numbers and then left.

one day.

one fucking day.

you two were apart for only a day. he sent you the first message and you answered them. he couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your eyes and your voice. it was the same for you.

even though you'd only been messaging each other for 2 weeks, he asked you if you wanted to go out somewhere. of course, you agreed and offered to go for a coffee to take a break from studying.

you put on a beautiful white summer dress that showed off your body.

‘i hope i’m not overdoing it...’ you thought.

03:17PM

"i’m so sorry for being late—…" you whispered to the man with a glass of soda against his lips, letting him know you were tired and done with the conversation. your eyes sparkling with joy, your lips curling up into a gleeful smile when you locked eyes with the person you had been craving to see all evening. he hadn't missed one night, not a single one. he was right on time. right there to stay with you, make you feel comfortable, talk to you all night.

you'd laugh, he'd watch.

he'd talk, you'd listen.

"no no don’t wo—" as he turned to answer you, he was stunned by your beauty.

his eyes wandered up and down your face. you noticed him and smiled at him.

‘i hate the way you make me feel — my chest begin to tighten when my eyes lock onto yours, yet i find it merely impossible to look away.’

[tims-shi]

tags: itoshi!sister, baby itoshi is named kei, fluff, sae and rin as older brothers, some spoilers for the u20 match !!, this is v self indulgent tbh 😭 kinda ooc characters im sorry

first post !! also not proofread lols again this is p much self indulgent oml ending is rushed my mind went blank,, i tend to coddle my baby cousins A LOT and ive been missing them these days so it led to this 😧

“hey prodigy boy, a little lady’s looking for you.” aiku announced, entering the break room with a miniscule smirk on his face.

sae merely raised a brow, coldly saying, “send them away.” aiku laughed, waving his hand in the air, “i can’t do that. she seems very persistent. i feel like she’ll cry if she gets sent away.”

getting annoyed, sae dropped his bag. rolling his eyes as he stomped his way out of the room. he opened the door, prepared to tell the tepid creature to scram off, only to be met with air.

“are you fucking with me, you selfish captain?” sae muttered to himself, about to close the door. pausing halfway when he hears small mutters.

“nii, up.” looking down, sae sees his little sister, no older than three years, looking up at him with raised arms. “kei,” sae lets out a grunt as he picks her up. running his eyes through her figure once she’s nested in his arms. quirking a brow at the familiar looking blue pentagon brooch pinned at her jacket. 

“why are you alone? where’s mom?”, sae interrogated, fingers tucking her maroon locks behind her ear. “i’m with nanny. told her i’ll be back.” kei replied, fiddling with the string around her brother’s neck.

“okay, you’ve seen me. now go back to nanny.”

“no! wan’ see rin-nii, too.” kei whined, arms tightening around sae when he tried to put her down.  at the mention of the name, sae’s face scrunched up, reminded of the not-so-good relationship he has with his brother. “do you know your way? i can’t bring you there ‘cause my manager’s looking for me.” at that, kei nodded. placing her palms on his face and kissing his cheek before wriggling down his hold. “do you have your phone? i’ll text your nanny where you are. stay safe, alright?” sae crouched down, pinching her cheek.

“i will. bye-bye!” kei waved at him before dashing off to where her rin-nii could be.

—

kei’s lost. at first she was confident she’ll reach her rin-nii in record time, but after a few turns in this maze of a facility, kei’s starting to lose hope. tears brimming at her eyes, letting out sniffles.

—

with blue lock winning the match against japan’s u20, it’s safe to say the excitement hasn’t really died down. now done with showering and freshening up, the athletes are now on their way to the cafeteria, where a feast is waiting for them, as anri said. 

“that was a fun match! i’ve never played a match with so many talented players before! hell! i wasn’t even expecting we were gonna win!” bachira babbled excitedly. at his chatter, chigiri’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean you weren’t inspecting us to–”

“do you guys hear that?”, isagi hushed them. 

“...hear what?” reo asked. “it’s like someone’s crying” isagi answered, looking around for a person crying?

“is that a child?” nagi, who had been silent throughout the walk, pointed out the small figure not too far from them. bachira, ever the happy person, approached the crying child. “hi! are you okay? why is a little girl like you crying?” he asked, now on his knees in front of the child.

“can’t find my nii. ‘m lost.” kei muttered. feeling comfortable with the stranger before her, she went closer to him, hands now gripping his shirt.

“do you want us to help you find your brother?” this time, it was chigiri who asked. also crouched in front of her as he wiped her tear-stained face. “wan’ my nii.” the little girl uttered out, cries gone and was left sniffling. 

as bachira and chigiri were comforting the little girl, reo can’t help but feel familiar with the child. has he seen her before? he can’t really recall. looking over at isagi, it seems like he has the same thoughts as well.

“doesn’t she look like rin-chan? so cute!” bachira exclaimed, now holding kei in his arms, cooing at her cheeks. hearing her brother’s name, kei perked up. eyes twinkling at bachira, silently pleading to lead her to her brother. 

“oh? is he your nii?” when kei nodded, bachira turned to isagi and handed him the child. “isagi will bring you to your brother. right, isagi?” 

while panicking inside, isagi couldn’t help but sigh softly when kei looks at him expectantly. “i’ll take her to rin. save us some food.” isagi bid them goodbye. over his shoulders, kei waved at the group of boys left behind. 

—

“what’s your name?” isagi sparked up a conversation, the awkward silence getting to him. “kei and ‘m three!”

“what’s your name?” kei asked him, resting her head on his shoulders. “me? i’m isagi. i play soccer. do you play soccer, kei?” 

“no, can’t push the ball by myself.” kei pouted, recalling the times she tried to do the sport both her brothers love. “then you have to eat a lot so you get strong and kick the ball by yourself.” isagi told her, a palm resting on her back.

“we’re here. are you good by yourself?” isagi put her down. kei nodded at him, smiling at him in gratitude. “thank you, ‘sagi.” 

—

rin can’t help but be disappointed. at himself or at his brother? he’s not entirely sure. maybe he’s angry instead? he doesn’t know surely, too. sat alone in the break room with a towel over his head, rin curses inwardly as multiple thoughts run over his head. small pats on his knee made him look up. as teal eyes meet with another set of teal eyes, rin wasn’t expecting to see his little sister in here. let alone, by herself. “kei, are you alone?”, rin hushed out, picking her up and settling him on his lap, facing his body. 

“wan’ see rin-nii. miss rin-nii.” despite his cold demeanor, it’s no doubt that itoshi rin has a soft spot for his sister. always the sweet and loving child she is, unaware of the darkest sides of the world as she keeps lighting up every corner of their home and their hearts.

“rin-nii missed you too. have you eaten yet?” rin hummed, tugging kei closer and fixing a part of her hair that got messed up.

“i cooked my lunch! nanny helped me with the stove but i made my lunch by myself.” kei puffed up her chest, boasting about her blooming skills in the kitchen. “that so? should we go to the cafeteria? i think they have your favorite.”

“what we waiting for? let’s go! hurry!” with eyes gleaming at the sound of food, kei got off and started pulling her brother’s hand. “you wait here, i’ll just freshen up.” rin told her, arms under her arms as he sat her on the bench.

“rin-nii.” kei called out. “yeah?”

“can i sit with ‘sagi?” 

“WHAT?”

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[halucynator]

False Fronts IV

part 4 of 4

fluff version.

hii omg i finally did this im so happy with this there's an angst version as well bc who doesnt like some good ol' angst from time to time

also the other version was released early bc im stupid so ty to @berryzxx for reminding me (i just want a reason to tag you)

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings:fluffff arguments (oohOOHOoH) swearing, not so fake dating (but are they?), the and y/n being idiots, not a happy ending, not proof read (as usual) and my writing

summary: being asked to fake date someone to get a petty ex off their back is the worst possible way of being friend-zoned. you, however, were willing to take any chances to get as close as you could to theodore nott.

angst is hereeee

reblogs with tags are always appreciated mwah

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4: angst

The tension between you and Theo had been brewing for days, each passing moment adding weight to the unspoken emotions that hung heavily in the air. Unable to bear the silence any longer, you initiated the conversation, the frustration and confusion evident in your voice.

"Theo, can we talk?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and determination.

He glanced up from his book, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. "Sure, what's up?"

"It's about us," you began cautiously, the words feeling heavier than you'd anticipated. "I feel like there's something here, between us. But I'm confused about where you stand."

Theo's expression flickered, a fleeting mixture of uncertainty and conflict clouding his features. "I don't know if diving into a relationship right now is the best idea."

"But this isn't just about a relationship," you insisted, your voice rising in exasperation. "It's about acknowledging what's been brewing between us, Theo."

He sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm not sure what I want, Y/N. It's complicated."

"Complicated?" You scoffed, the frustration simmering within you. "What's so complicated about being honest?"

"Why can't you understand?" Theo's voice rose, mirroring your frustration. "I don't want to mess things up and end up causing you pain."

"You're not getting it!" Your voice echoed in the charged atmosphere. "I need to know where we stand, and your indecision isn't helping."

Theo's reluctance grated on your nerves, fueling the intensity of the argument. "I need you to be honest with me, Theo. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen!"

"I know, but I'm conflicted," he admitted, his tone wavering.

Frustration boiled within you. "Conflicted about what? Us?"

His gaze shifted away, a mix of guilt and concern clouding his features. "I... I don't want Jess to hurt you."

"I can handle Jess, she isn't your responsibility," you asserted firmly, the frustration simmering beneath your words.

"You don't get it, do you?" Theo's voice cut through the tension, edged with frustration. "She's MY ex."

His words stung, and the heat of the argument intensified. "And that gives you the right to dictate what's good for me?" you shot back, your voice rising in indignation.

"Look, I'm just trying to protect you," Theo retorted, his tone laced with urgency.

"Protect me? From what?" Your voice rose, the frustration boiling over. "I can handle my own affairs, Theo. I don't need you deciding what's best for me!"

The tension crackled between you, each word spoken a testament to the underlying emotions that had escalated into a heated argument. The clash of opinions and conflicting desires hung heavily in the charged atmosphere, leaving the potential relationship teetering on the edge of uncertainty. The anticipation in the room was suffocating.

Days stretched into weeks, and the awkward distance between you and Theo became the new norm. Despite the avoidance, every accidental encounter sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you. Butterflies danced in your stomach, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, now lost in a fog of misunderstanding.

Each time your paths crossed, the unresolved tension simmered beneath the surface. The silent longing for resolution battled with the ache of hurt and confusion, leaving you caught in a turmoil of emotions whenever Theo came into view.

The avoidance hadn't dulled the effect he had on you. His presence was still magnetic, drawing your attention despite the unspoken rift that divided you both. The simple sight of him evoked a rush of emotions, a testament to the bond you once shared and the rift that now tore you apart.

With every passing moment, the yearning for clarity clashed with the fear of confronting the situation, leaving you entangled in a web of unresolved emotions and unspoken apologies, the butterflies a painful yet undeniable reminder of the connection you couldn't seem to sever.

Summoning your courage, you approached Theo's dorm, determined to offer an overdue apology. A hesitant knock resulted in eerie silence. Unsure of Theo's whereabouts, you glanced around the deserted hallway, your resolve mingling with uncertainty.

Taking a tentative step forward, you reached for the doorknob, finding it unlocked. The decision to enter felt both intrusive and necessary. The room was devoid of life, the emptiness echoing the void that had developed between you and Theo.

Your gaze drifted to Theo's desk, where a single piece of paper lay. The handwriting was unmistakable, sending a jolt of emotions through you as you read the words:

Last night was so fun, so glad you dropped Y/N.

- Jess

Disbelief and a pang of deception ricocheted through you. The words were like a gut punch, shattering the fragile hope you had held for reconciliation and understanding. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with the apparent evidence before you.

Your mind raced, attempting to process the meaning behind Jess's note. It seemed to confirm your worst fears, undermining the fragile trust you had in the situation and leaving your heart aching with the weight of assumed betrayal.

With tear-filled eyes and a heavy heart, you turned away, the intention of offering an apology now replaced by a swirl of hurt. The unaddressed misunderstanding had taken root, poisoning the hope for amends and leaving you in a cloud of uncertainty and hurt.

After catching a glimpse of the note and feeling a surge of mixed emotions, you found yourself actively avoiding Theo. Days turned into a tense cycle of dodging encounters and deflecting questions, leaving Theo increasingly perplexed by your sudden distance.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Theo finally confronted you, his tone a blend of confusion and concern.

Your gaze wavered, torn between the urge to explain and the fear of facing the truth. "I just need some space," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, evading the heart of the matter.

Theo's expression shifted from confusion to hurt, his eyes clouded with the weight of your avoidance. "Did i do something wrong?" he pressed gently, hoping for a glimmer of understanding.

You hesitated, unsure how to voice the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you muttered, the words falling between you like an insurmountable barrier.

The tension between you was palpable, an unspoken rift widening with every passing moment of silence. The distance between you grew, leaving both of you stranded in a sea of unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

Theo sensed your unease. "Hey, something's been off. What's going on?" he asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Well..." you hesitated, before showing him the note, unaware that he didn't know about it. "She sent you that note?" Theo's voice edged with surprise and confusion.

"What! No," you replied hastily, caught off guard by his assumption, unaware he didn't have any knowledge of the note's existence.

Theo's eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. "I'm lost. What's happening?" he asked, completely unaware of the note you were holding, his confusion evident in his expression.

"You're being accused of cheating on me with Jess, but now I think you're being framed," you explained, your voice tinged with concern as you showed him the note.

"What? I would never! You know that!" Theo's words spilled out, shock and disbelief evident in his tone and expression.

His vehement denial resonated with the sincerity you knew so well, and a wave of relief washed over you. You knew him, knew his values, and believed in his loyalty.

"I love you, I'd never do anything to hurt you," he continued, desperation and honesty lacing his words as he took his face in his hands turning it to face him.

His earnest declaration struck a chord within you, dispelling some of the doubts that had clouded your mind. You realized that amidst the chaos and confusion, trusting in your bond with Theo was paramount.

"Yeah, I-I'm sorry." you stammered, your voice filled with a mix of emotions, as you finally let go of the lingering doubts.

Theo's eyes softened with understanding, a gentle smile forming on his lips. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, enveloping you in a reassuring embrace. In that moment, the unspoken affection bloomed, filling the air with an undeniable warmth.

With a rush of emotions, you met halfway, your lips gently pressing against his in a tender and heartfelt kiss.

"I love you too" you whispered as he pulled you in again for a kiss.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡*:☆

hi hello! this is the end of the series. check out the angsty ver here if you'd like! here are a few fics to read while i work on my next one:

masterlist

reader's choice (mattheo x reader)

reader's choice (theodore x reader)

i honestly had so much fun writing this thank you for sticking along with this <33 sorry for how late this is i was like so busy and im also lazy so yea

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy @jetblackpayne @delulu4marauders @ahead-fullofdreams

if you want to be added to my theodore/any other character's taglist just send me an ask/dm!

[johnnycakesswitch]

everytime i get a notification that you posted i feel like i’ve sent an ask in that hasn’t been answered yet idk why . i think ive just sent you si many asks its hard to remember what’s been answered 💀

anyways . i wanna say the entire gang had a driver’s license (i feel like johnny had one; he just didn’t use it, bro is NOT stealing a car 😭💀) so ponyboy could call up ANYONE he knew had access to a car to drive him places .

the curtis gang telling the shepard gang that if they win the rumble they have to drive them anywhere when they ask and ponyboy takes advantage of this SO MUCH. he calls tim at like 2 am and hes js like

‘tim can you take me to dairy queen im hungry and we have no food . please i didnt eat dinner ☹️’ AND TIM CANT SAY NO.

anyways. i think its a neat idea . thoughts

Omg stop wait I love this 😭 especially in a papercut/purly universe him and Curly would abuse that privilege so much, Tim would say no to his brother so Curly would make Pony ask because he knows Tim can’t say no to him 😭😭😭 cue Tim begrudgingly driving their two happy asses wherever they want all the time 💀 also any asks should be answered! You can check my #asks tag on my page if you want, unless tumblr randomly deleted it my inbox has been empty until now for a few days 🙂

[lashysdomain]

@mageofspacemultiverse and @memurfevur 's Oc Name ARG Data

for those who AREN'T me who've spent the last 4 days and almost every waking and sleeping hour thinking about this, here's what we have so far + puzzles i've not yet been able to solve

characters: [name] - (blog they're at)

arceel - (memurfevur)

how we found out about ynygme (from here on referred to as E). ex moirail, used to be known as Balerion. this is the name that E knows him by.

Ynygme - (mageofspacemultiverse)

We have found E's name. it's recommended not to say it, just in case. they're currently in hiding while we find a tether and figure out how to decode the spell we need to bring them home.

the subjugate video

one of E's captors. we've been told to hide from them, so DNI. please. i know, villian, but dni. summoned by us guessing S

the warden video (loud)

another of e's captors, 110% fucked up on this one. i didn't notice, both of these are my fault.

current puzzle objective is solving the spell to get back to E and helping find any parts of their body to create their tether

extra characters and unsolved puzzles/extra info under the cut

watch'r - (memurfevur)

bound to arceel, knows what's going on to some degree, will take gossip as a bribe for clues, unsure what he'll give. that's my bestie

For now we're good on clues, but we might need more soon?

matild kirada - (memurfevur)

gilf. who said that mentioned in the poem posts image, likely whos help we need to find e's body

unsolved puzzles

i'm currently still trying to solve these, but i'm at my wits end in a way

possible code could be from the polls, setting the positions of letters in another key the letters and their resulting poll result numbers are: e2 r4 p5 i6 c6 h3 (the letters spell cipher. kilant you bitch.)

p is interesting, and has the options of 20 5 20 8 5 18 which when put into an alphanumeric substitution cipher gives us "tether" could be nothing but that seems purposeful? every other poll has just 123...

the pastebin clues, found from the description of the subjugate video.

these are settings for the enigma machine. what we put into it probably hasn't been sent out yet, it's also a clue about E's first name more than likely.

as dr el fj ky mt ob qx uz wh I 10 1 III 17 2 VII 6 4

A grandpre grid from the watch'r drabble and following judgements roman numerals gives us a likely second set of plugboard settings for the enigma machine.

the rest of the settings were found on a past post leading to a soundcloud link

ap cm dv gq iy ne rj sw uf zk V 4 6 IV 6 2 VIII 16 6

from the tags of the last ask + settings for another machine from the post where E told us about their past with balerion. it's unclear if the setting for the third rotor is 22 1 or 2 21

RC EY BF SG JM ID LQ KZ TU HO V 18 3 VI 1 5 III 2 2 1

from a poll with some sort of poem? poem might not actually be important, but the poll post is here

vuypo xu klt syet ya g rukobq crmgp fpkose kkmexf wkzoec knm bwbx qgzkem

Jcif xgs aphwvx rxdgdk jc boyf Irmm g inbfjh b qrqqevn onmzf Mcuvh omeccn diegypgp

from E's latest ask and pulled from the captions of the Warden video. if this is the spell, we're missing the last third piece still

i believe it might be a beaufort vigenere cipher, but we don't have it's key. could also need to be spit through specific enigma machine settings. there are far too many for me to brute force, so we'll just have to wait.

the words that bring them together are likely just the spell, not anything super complex (well more so than finding it all)

current state of the reset conspiracy board

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Eddie, rockstar, who goes on tours and gets raunchy letters from his fans. it also happens to make his wife jealous. she decides she's gonna show him how much better she is than some stupid explicit fan mail 🤷 or something i know that's specific

omg I love this!!! And who doesn’t love rockstar Eddie 😍

I got a little excited with this one so I wrote a fic about it :p

I was thinking about doing something smutty but tb him a little burnt out with smut since its all ive focused on writing for the last couple of months and it's been pretty difficult to work on since I’m constantly around people

But I hope you enjoy this!

No Exceptions

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines, @esme-viridian, @munsonology

Word Count- 1.5k

You glanced over at Eddie laid on his bed in the back of the tour bus as you heard him try to hide a little giggle. He and the other guys were in their separate quarters, opening and reading all the fanmail they had been sent over the last few weeks. 

Being a rockstar was a lot different than they had imagined it would be.

They thought it would be nothing but parties, girls, drinking and getting high whenever they pleased while just being able to hang out and jam for work. Instead it was full of long days of music writing and practicing, long drives to new venues, and barely any time for girls and weed. But Eddie didn’t need any other girl by his side while he had you. 

You always trusted him while they were out on the road, he wasn’t the type to cheat or lie to you, but usually the gigs they had were only a state away. A few hour drive maximum. This was the first time they were supposed to have a show nearly halfway across the country. And Eddie insisted you go along with them.

He was so happy that he was finally living his dream of being a rockstar, and with all the support you always gave him he wouldn’t dare want to experience this without you. The guys had no protests to him bringing you along, they loved having you around and always treated you with kindness and respect. Not to mention you could help find them the perfect girls while they’re out on tour. 

But over the last few hours the only stops they’ve made were at truck stops, gas stations, and fast food joints. Now they were just doing their own thing after getting a little bit of cabin fever and starting to get sick of constantly being around one another. They knew that was inevitable, especially being stuck on a cramped bus for hours on end, but for now they were all occupied with reading the dozens of letters they had gotten from their fans. 

They were excited to read them all and see all the wonderful things their fans had to say about them, not to mention how excited Gareth, Jeff and Grant got when they saw how many girls were DYING to see them and detailing all of the things they’d love to do if they ever got the chance. Eddie on the other hand always laughed at the letters he got that said things like that. 

Though Corroded Coffin was still a newer up and coming band, they had their own little group of fans that knew all about you and Eddie. 

You were that little groups power couple and they adored it whenever they saw you at a show, cheering on your man from right up front on the stage or watching him with loving eyes from backstage. Unfortunately, like all fanbases, there were a few girls who thought they would be able to steal Eddie away from you. Those were always his favorites. And lucky for you, he was giggling at the latest one he had just opened.

“What’re you giggling at?” You asked him with a smile before taking the letter from his hands and reading it to yourself, not being able to control the giggles in between nearly every word,

“’If I had the chance to spend just one night with you, I’d show you how insignificant that little groupie is and let you see what a real woman can do’?” You nearly burst out laughing just from reading it. 

“Wait, you didn’t even read the best part, look down at the bottom.” Eddie said in a fit of giggles as you laid next to him on his bed. 

You glanced down at the end of the letter and you could feel the tears start to prick the corners of your eyes,

“’From your most devoted fan, Sandra Murphy. P.S. I may be 44 but I promise I have the stamina of a 20-year-old.’” 

The two of you were laughing so hard your stomachs were hurting.

“I think she might have a better shot at Wayne than with me…” Eddie said as he tried his best to calm himself.

Those were always your favorite types of letters.

It had nothing to do with their age, how many shows they’ve been to, or how many times they’ve met the boys after a show, there was always that one handful of people who thought that no matter what they would be the one exception Eddie would make during your marriage They somehow assumed that he wanted anyone other than you. And that meant one of two things:

Eddie would ignore the letter and keep it in his collection of favorites, pulling it out whenever he needed a good laugh, or,

He would let you write back to them if they started to get threatening and always made sure to include a polaroid of the two of you.

He had his own little collections of all those letters.

He always kept all the letters from the fans that told him how much they looked up to him and all the little kids that would write to him and say how they wished they could be a rockstar just like him when they grew up. Letters from parents saying that his music was corrupting their children and turning them into satanic savages. Letters from crazed fans who were absolutely obsessed with him (those ones were usually put into a shredder). And of course, his favorites, the letters written to him by all the girls that thought with enough convincing they could get Eddie to leave you for them.

This one was definitely getting saved.

You slowly were able to calm yourselves down, a sharp turn made by the bus that almost knocked you both off the mattress was a big help for stopping the giggles, but you just couldn’t help it.

“I don’t know Eds, she sounds pretty convincing.” You said to him as you handed him back the letter, 

“Think you’re gonna take her up on her offer? I mean, I don’t want to step in between you and your ‘most devoted fan’.”

Eddie finished his giggles and tossed the letter away onto the floor as he grabbed at your waist and pulled you in close to him, the both of you secured on the bed to keep you from nearly tumbling off again,

“Oh please, its not the first letter I’ve gotten like that and it definitely won’t be the last,” He held you close to him, arms draped around your waist as your arms went around his neck, his lips sweetly kissing you as your bodies shook from another bump in the road, “and like I said, she seems more like Waynes type than mine…” 

You giggled once more and kissed him back, your hand moving up to gently hold the back of his head, your fingers carefully tangling into his soft curls,

“Maybe you should do him a favor and let him be the one to write back to her. You never know, they might really hit it off.”

Eddie smiled,

“You know, you’re right. I might have to give him a call at the next stop.”

“You’re gonna call him at the next stop no matter what!” You lightly slapped his chest, “You said you would call him at the last stop to check in and you never did! That was almost three hours ago Eds.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll call him when we get to the next stop.” Eddie raised his hand up, “Scouts honor.”

“Sweetie, you were never a scout, you can’t keep saying that.” You said with another giggle at your lips.

“Hey, if no one knows, it doesn’t hurt anything.”

You smiled with one another as you lay in bed, holding each other close in your arms as the gentle rocking of the bus was starting to lull you both off to sleep. It had already been such a long drive, and you knew you had a long while to go until you reached your destination. A nap couldn’t hurt anything. Eddie could always wait a little longer to call Wayne, he knew he’d be alright. 

For now, all he wanted to do was enjoy the scene unfolding around him.

Laying in bed with the woman he loved, on a tour bus with his best friends on their way to a new gig at a new venue in a new place. He was finally living out his dream and though he knew there was always a price to pay when it came to fame and fortune, specifically having to give up the freedom of his personal life, but as long as it meant he got to spend the rest of his days with you it didn't matter.

All those fangirls would get from him is seeing how much he loved and adored you.

And being able to show you off to everyone he could was his favorite part of his new rockstar life.

[petrichoraline]

girl you're stressing me out because of how stressed out You sound!!! take it easy, watching a show or reblogging gifsets is not a job or anything breathe pls

imagine how tired we are..imagine how tired we are!!

lmaoo I am fine but it's been a thing on this blog to complain about it for like..so long. like for over a year now so i don't really think of it as something people would stress about, I just kinda assume it's a me thing that people are aware of and when I make the occasional post of this nature it's just "oh she's at it again" hahah

the only reason I'm so comfortable complaining about it is because I know for a fact other people have gone through it and it's just not fun. the fear of missing out can get a bit too overwhelming when all your mutuals are watching the latest releases and making long-ass analyses and pretty sets as soon as the episodes drop and that fomo comes on top of the natural wish to keep up with the thing you actually enjoy watching. there is also the stress people who write said analyses and create said gifs can go through which is separate from the casual fan's and that stems from the fact most interactions happen within hours of the release so you can feel pressured to put your posts out asap so they actually get some attention. not everyone goes through this but many, myself included, do.

posting on here and talking to other fans is very fun and it can make my day and in order to do that I have to be at least a bit up to date with current shows and post about them which is one of the reasons having things pile up is stressful - the amount of things to watch gets real overwhelming real quick when the list is longer. not to mention its a bit hard to enjoy something when you know you have a bunch of other things waiting in line.

i also have sets ive taken as requests which is why i stress about them not being ready. and i stress about asks because they're anonymous and idk if the person /people who sent them will get the response at all.

ive been through this before, I had burnout so bad I didn't want to watch or do anything for months, that's why I try not to take it too seriously, i even stopped participating in tag games (another source of big discomfort because I love them and I want to thank everyone who includes me but I let them pile up) because i am just like this, I stress by myself easily about things others find silly and i work on it by myself too.. I know it's not a job and I don't treat it like one cause yall are not paying for my danmei novels but i don't like leaving things undone, it's the pea under all the mattresses that keeps me up lol

[allylikethecat]

hi! i haven’t sent a message in a while but as usual i’ve been here! so here’s an update lol

i’m such a sucker for a sick fic and you always write them so perfectly! as always i loved the update!

also, i don’t know why i put off starting atkh i just started it last night and it is so good!

and as you know i think im make way for ducklings #1 fan lol i love this universe and fic SO much. so naturally ive still been thinking about the teen!dad matty ask from forever ago! do you have any plans to still do that? i’d love to see how you’d navigate that! :)

i hope you had a good weekend!

-💟

Ahhh Hello my dear 💟 Anon! It is so lovely to hear from you! I hope you are doing well!

Thank you so much for reading the sick fic! I know I made people wait way too long for it, and then it was a little lackluster (at least, that's how I felt because I put way too much pressure on myself with it lol) so I'm extra grateful for you taking the time to let me know you enjoyed it!

AHHH Thank you so much for reading All the King's Horses! That thing is currently my favorite fic and I am having the absolute best time working on it! I'm so excited for how it is shaping up and am so thankful people are giving it a chance - I know it is a very niche AU!

Thank you so much for your continued support of Ducklings! Hopefully we will have a Duckling's update soon! The Teen Dad Fictional!Matty fic is very much still in the works - it will probably end up being the next project, I just need to finish something else first lol (Most likely it will be next after I finish The Birthday Fic) Just be warned, it's going to be really sad, and make sure to read the tags and warnings carefully!

My weekend was good but exhausting! Thank you for asking! Pop and I were at a horse show last week, so it was lots of long days - he was a little super star though and won our final class out of a whole lot of entries - ironically this came right after I was sobbing on the phone to my Mom that I needed to either sell him or move him somewhere else and get a new jumper since he wasn't competitive anymore. I guess he heard me because he was like - oh hell no, hold my beer, and actually picked his hind feet back haha (I would never actually sell him - he's my heart horse and my entire world and I think it would break both of our hearts I could never do it - but sometimes I get dramatic) I hope your Tuesday is going well and that you have a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[inkykeiji]

Ive probably sent a hundred little silly anon asks but im in sucha rush on the internet lately that I forget to put my lil🍓 my grad school program is so intense, its a weekend program so I can work full time during the week and go to school sat/sun but I love u how are you? how are your works going? in-love with flawless tomura and very excited for part 2! I thinkk I tool your poll and I THINK I voted for the twins? oh god see the days morph together >.< heh either way excited for anything!!🍓

strawberrie babie!!!!!!!! i always love seeing u in my inbox ehehehe <33 aw that’s okay! u can always tell me which ones were yours if u ever want them in ur tag! <3 waaaah that does sound intense but it’s also amazing and i am so proud of you!!! i am getting ready to start constructing my own grad school applications :o

i’m okai!! i moved in with my boyfriend and his family so that’s been wonderful but my dad’s been in the hospital since october so that’s not so wonderful. my works are going well thank u for asking!!! i am drowning in wips as u know but it’s a good thing c: oooh did you!!!! i miss the twins very much :( but thank you for your enthusiasm sweetpea i really appreciate it!! <3 i can’t wait to share all of my works with u hehe <33

[kindaline]

Meet the Creator (Tag Game)

igot tagged by this lovely bean @euphoriajjkook thank you for tagging me!

Part 1 - All about BTS 

Question 1: What is the meaning behind your username?

Well, I’ve been using this username for a long time now on pretty much, everywhere that is the internet if i’m being honest. Don’t know anymore where it came from, kind of already shows my kpop fan self, although I thought of it before even knowing of k-pop at all. So, yes a random asian-ish name, kind of oc character thingy, don’t know. (was kindalinehyorin for a while but a girl couldnt read her handwriting so, it got changed out of nowhere, hyorin is a queen though!)

Question 2: What got you into BTS and why?

 Well, long story short around the time blood sweat & tears came out, somehow the song was everywhere I was, so after ignoring it since I’m the type to ignore popular things. Then after skipping it some more bc of the death of Jonghyun, and the mood it set to the whole k-pop world. I finally got into it one summer and there was no going back.

Question 3: Explain why you like your bias

Oh, geez this will be long af... also ironic how @euphoriajjkook ‘s bias is the same as mine oh well. When I was watching compilations early on, I loved all of the members until I saw the clip of Tae & Jungkook sneeze on each other and I was very done and knew that I just love both of those dorks. But usually I say Jungkook is my bias, love his smile, personality, voice and just whole being. Like don’t you get me started on this human...

Question 4: Who are your bias wreckers? Has any of them come close to becoming your bias?

Now, this is where I could write a whole post... Let’s just say that I can’t possibly choose between Tae and Jungkook, so I would say both biases, but if I can’t then I’ll make Tae a bias wrecker. But in reality my bias wrecker is Min Yoongi himself (it shows on my blog lol) and yes he did come close to becoming my bias not that long ago... Jungkook is my bias he can’t take that place, I mean he shouldn’t but he could.. I’ll just stop!

Question 5: Do you have any particular ships you enjoy?

If you can’t guess from looking at my blog then you are either blind or I don’t even know. Taekook, or Vkook however you like the ship name. Taekook and Taekook only, ever, in every situation lol

Question 6: Favorite Run BTS episode

Can’t choose, have too many. But like if it has lot of laughing and Taekook you have me...

Question 7: All-time favorite BTS song (and if you don’t have one list top 3)

Oh, god...

So; Best of me, Mic Drop, Fake Love and all of the LY:Tear songs

Question 8: All-time favorite non BTS released song (Can be from a mix-tape, single, cover, etc) Again, if you don’t one list three or two

Jungkook and RM’s cover of Fools by Troye Sivan... 

I. JUST. LOVE. THAT. SONG. AND. TROYE. AND. JUST. YeS...

also live for the fact that jungkook made charlie puth retire when they sang together...

Part 2 - Rapid-fire about you

Question 1: Favorite color

Purple, cause I’m very BTS trash and also purple is just such a pretty coloooor. (also love yellow, sorry not sorry @lizarmys-blog )

Question 2: Favorite animal

cats. they are just cuteeee~

Question 3: What types of music do you listen to outside of BTS?

oh geez not gonna list types rather some singers.

soo, k-pop in all of it’s glory (not into the very cutesy concept most of the time tho)

troye sivan, billie eilish, demi lovato and some halsey & kehlani

Question 4: Can you tell a story about one of your most recent scars?

i have a bruise on my ankle (does it count?), my shoe just was ready to ruin my day with that. nothing else i don’t think..

Question 5: What is one of your biggest pet peeves?

Have a lot, don’t get me started... People cutting me off, being awfully honest in a rude way, I won’t list more, my whole life is a pet peeve... (also @euphoriajjkook has a point with the looking at drawings one!)

Question 6: What kind of hobbies do you have?

okey, so: I draw, try to keep my simblr up, make some wallpapers and write (self promo, check my wattpad out @kindaline lol) 

Question 7: What do you hate most in this world?

myself or my life...

no but for real, people and their rudeness and just people in general

humans are awful tbh

Question 8: Finally, why writing? (+ drawing and what not)

I have a habit of thinking of stories and what not in class/school, and after deciding to come back to wattpad I started to write some taekook ffs, cause wtf not?!

About drawing, a girl over here is dreaming of going to art school and doing what i like for a living. I won’t say I’m talented, but I try to improve in drawing the best I can... I enjoy it when my drawings turn out great, otherwise you will have an encounter with my depressed self.

                                                         ***

and now for the tags, don’t have many ppl so feel free to do this if you want to, (maybe tag me if you did do it after seeing my post, so i can read yours) @incorrectaekook @jinnybun (if you would like...) also i’ll just tag you too, if you don’t do it then so be it @lizarmys-blog

[anime-nymph]

About this collab

↳  There are many reasons I’m putting this collab together. I hit another milestone (4.7k), I’m taking a hiatus soon so I can comfortably work on my many upcoming series, I want more spicy series to read... the list goes on. Please take a look below!

Theme  — Series

↳  Writers: Have you had a series idea waiting in the wings that you need an excuse to finally begin, or are you already writing a series? Maybe you even started one a ways back and took a break, but you think it’s time to pick it up again. Well alright then.

Rules

i. You must of course be 18+ to participate and your age must be easily visible somewhere on your blog.

ii. As my blog is 18+ with a majority focus on N-SFW/DC content in what I write and read, I am limiting entries to those categories.

With that said, nothing is off limits (except the obvious no pedophilia/bestiality) but you must make sure everything is tagged correctly!

iii. One entry per person/blog.

iv. Preferred Fandoms are AoT, BNHA, HQ, and JJK, but if you have an idea or existing series for another fandom, I will include an “Others” category.

v. Art/Fanart is still acceptable if that's your creation of choice! Just like any other series, if you have or are planning 3 parts or more, you're welcome to join.

vi. There will be no limit on character entries, so whoever you want to write for is accessible!

vii. To enter, send in an ask with the below included. Please state writing or art!

Fandom

Character x [type]!reader (OC's welcome!)

Genre (n-sfw/dc)

Main theme(s)

And (if you have it) a title & short summary/synopsis, if not a TBA will be noted. Try to keep it in the 100 word range.

viii. Upcoming and ongoing series only!

ix. Reblog the collab post after acceptance!

x. Since series are a little more in depth, if at any point you need to change or add any details to the masterlist, just dm me and I'll be happy to do so!

xi. The whole series does not need to be completed before tagging the collab! A single chapter submission is enough!

xii. There is no due date! But for those of you who need structure, let's say June 31st. Simply tag me in your first/next work and use #onceuponatimecollab in the tags.

▪︎ Submissions will be linked over the series title which will be bolded ▪︎ If you have/will have a masterlist, those will be linked and clearly indicated if you would like ▪︎

AoT

↳ @erenyaygirl writing ▪︎ Eren x f!reader ▪︎ One Day the Only Butterflies Left ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ apocalypse, themes of life and death ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Year: 2,854. Following the destruction of the walls, (833) years and after this present day. At the precipice of autumn, y/n sets out on a seasonal foraging and fishing trip only to get lost. Their predicament does not go unnoticed by the local mountain spirit.

↳ @tinydiors writing ▪︎ Levi x f!reader; Zeke x f!reader ▪︎ Strangers Stay Buried ▪︎ nsfw/dc ▪︎ undercover, enemies to lovers, romance, betrayal ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ After four of the nine titans were sent to paradis, the island of the devils, and never returned, commander magath decides to send you, one of their highest ranking strategists and researchers, to infiltrate the scouts regiment and eldian forces to uncover the truth behind their motives. Hellbent on taking down king fritz' reign of terror, you have no trouble infiltrating their military, their homes, their lives to bring an end to the titans, once and for all. But you never expected one dark haired man, armed with two blades at his sides, to make your job so difficult, nor to steal your heart.

BNHA

↳ @anime-nymph writing ▪︎ Pro Hero!Bakugou x f!reader ▪︎ Guilty as Charged ▪︎ nsfw/dc ▪︎ unplanned romance, angst, manipulation/betrayal ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Your life has never been easy. After the death of your parents, you’ve been left to take care of your little sister all on your own. You did everything in your power to protect her. There's nothing easy about being a kid, and nothing harder than keeping a couple of kids off the streets. There were things you had to do, things you had to sacrifice. Some things you wish you could take back. Years down the road, your sister is grown up and starting college. Many things are different now, but one thing will never change: you’re still going to do whatever you can to keep her safe, to make sure she lives the happy life she deserves. But when the demons you sold your soul to come back and threaten to destroy the one thing you wish to protect, will you remain the victim? Or become the villain in order to keep her safe?

↳ @tomurasprincess writing ▪︎ Shigaraki x f!reader ▪︎ Kalopsia ▪︎ nsfw/dc ▪︎ Stockholm, Pregnancy ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Kalopsia [kā lō p sēa] Noun: Delusion where things appear more beautiful than they really are.

HQ

↳ @meiansmistress writing ▪︎ Ceo!Meian x f!reader ▪︎ TBA ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ dom/sub dynamics ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ 50 Shades retelling

↳ @tetsurousharlot writing ▪︎ Kuroo x f!reader; Daishou x f!reader ▪︎ Playing Fiction ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ angst, romance and betrayal ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Falling in love with an older man wasn’t always the easiest option so when you sense things aren’t working out in your favor, you stray to another; but your heart still isn’t satisfied. It knows who it belongs to. Whether you call it fate or destiny—the universe steps in with a tiny miracle to save the relationship you were always meant to be in.

↳ @sweetsbysatori writing ▪︎ Kageyama x reader ▪︎ Kageyama Tobio vs the World ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ love octagram ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Everyone's got baggage—hell, so does Kageyama. But when your evil exes come marching back into your life, Tobio is forced to fight and defeat them all if he wants to continue to date you. (Based on Scott Pilgrim)

↳ @mxonigirimiya writing ▪︎ Kuroo x Black!f!reader ▪︎ Title TBA ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ themes TBA ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Sugar daddy au

JJK

↳ @tetsukentona writing ▪︎ Nanami x f!reader ▪︎ No Body, No Crime ▪︎ nsfw/dc ▪︎ Detective/PI AU, Crime, Suspense, Slowburn, angst ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Kento Nanami’s a renowned private investigator in Japan, who’s known to deal with cases that deal with paranormal activity or what’s known to him as “cursed energy.” When Ijichi, the assistant manager of his PI firm gets a call to look into another case, Kento recognizes that this case was earlier declared an open-and-shut case by (F/N) (L/N), another renowned PI who was known to have solved cases within days of receiving them. Initially irked with her methods of solving the cases, especially since she’s not like him, he decides that he has to approach her for help, else this will remain a cold case yet to be solved. As time passes by, secrets slowly unravel, the distance between them decreases, and the outcome would come out as a surprise to them. (Based on a Taylor Swift Song with the same name.)

↳ @touyasghosty writing ▪︎ Toji x f!reader ▪︎ Atlantis ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ forbidden love, angst ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ You've always been warned not to go messing with the gods. You had always listened until you came face to face with the God of carnal love.

↳ @oneoftheextras writing ▪︎ Toji x f!reader ▪︎ Saints and Sinners ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ assassin au, slowburn, violence ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ You accept a job from your employer: kill the black haired man with the blue eyes. But when his dad discovers that your plan to take out his son, your new job is to evade the elder Fushiguro as best you can to survive, but he’s as persistent as you are stubborn.

OTHERS

↳ @kxkyuu writing ▪︎ KNY ▪︎ Kyoujuro Rengoku x f!reader ▪︎ Deadly Games We Play ▪︎ nsfw/dc ▪︎ mafia, assassin, seduction ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ You are a top assassin, the best of your class. Skilled with all types of blades and poision, you're hired by Muzan to kill the Rengoku Mafia Family. You target the oldest son, Rengoku Kyoujuro, not knowing that he is the Boss. However after a failed attempt, Kyoujuro takes a liking to you. Thus the game begins to see if you can kill him before he seduces you. Who will win?

↳ @cherrykamado writing ▪︎ KNY ▪︎ Tanjiro Kamado x reader ▪︎ Sweet Like Honey ▪︎ nsfw/dc ▪︎ yandere themes, toxic behavior/relationships ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ "It’s your smell — your honey-like smell. Intoxicating from beginning to end, the first time he breathes it in, he can’t help but get addicted. And now, he doesn’t just yearn for your sweet scent — he craves for you."

↳ @tsukishimas-shortcake writing ▪︎ Tokyo Rev ▪︎ Draken x f!reader ▪︎ Ticket to Happiness ▪︎ nsfw ▪︎ prostitution, violence, angst ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Walking through the Tokyo red light district at night was anything but peaceful. Fake laughs from working women and salary men chasing pleasure fill the air, along with cigarette smoke that covers the street like a thick fog covers a lake. It may seem relatively harmless for those just passing through, but if you look past the groups of men stumbling out of the bar, the women waving goodbye to the men they’ve entertained for hours while wearing a fraudulent smile, girls handing out fliers to come “eat” at their establishment,  you realize patrons getting beaten in back alleys due to late payments on their loans or leaving a visible bruise on a working woman, drug deals, and the like. But you can pay your way out of any pain and suffering you may have to go through here because everything has a price, including the people. Men can be sold for many  services, most of which revolve around violence or “protection”, and women can be sold for one thing and one thing only: sex.

↳ @bajiyaki writing ▪︎ Tokyo Rev ▪︎ Mikey x f!reader ▪︎ Your Faithless Love's the Only Hoax I Believe In ▪︎ dc/nsfw ▪︎ themes TBA ▪︎ Masterlist

▪︎ Mikey was never the overprotective type. He was the baby. The ray of sunshine. He was someone that needed to be taken care of, not the other way around. But after losing so many of his family members and friends, he’s tired of losing people. So when a sudden step-sister emerges from the shadows to watch over his sick grandpa, Mikey vows to do anything to make sure you stay in his life forever.

[gravessyard]

Headcanons - genshin men with the knowledge that you're a vampire: Childe (+Zhongli mention)

Notes from the crypt: ive got a cold! Yay! Its kicking my ass but it also gave me Childe brainrot, so this piece is much longer than the other 2 ive done >:) enjoy!

Tags: GN!Vampire!reader, dom!childe, smut, lots of blood, some gore but not heavily detailed

• Oblivious bastard could make eye contact with all of the signs that are in his face and he'd still brush it off as something else.

• He only sees you when the sun is setting/already nighttime? You must be so busy during the day!

• You dont take up his offer for lunch or drinks but wouldnt hesitate to drink whatever Zhongli puts in front of you? It must be difficult being a picky eater.

• He runs into you gutting a boar with your bare hands and drinking its blood while Zhongli stands to the side with plenty of towels in his arms? Weird way to train but okay!

• It wasnt until MONTHS after that last encounter that he even got an inkling that something was off about you, and he found himself sitting across the former geo archon in Third Round Knockout. It was a little offputting not seeing you by his side, but the consultant reassures him that you're simply resting and will return when the sun isnt beating down on Liyue.

• A few hours of back and forth did little to clear the fog in Childe's mind, every time he tried to ask about your "condition", Zhongli would either redirect the conversation or give some open, vague answer that Childe couldn't pick apart, as sharp as he was. The last thing he heard before the two parted ways was a simple "perhaps its better if you learned from them directly".

• Thats exactly what he planned to do, until he was sent away from the city for an emergency mission. According to documents, some of his men were being slaughtered like lambs near the chasm, and he's to deal with the culprits personally and report the damages back. He's pissed, frustration coursing through him while he rounds up his backup and makes the trip out to the chasm, you still on the forefront of his mind. He had all the pieces, all he had to do was fit them together, yet just when it was all about to click, the sounds of screams and roaring broke him from his big brain moment.

• Geovishaps, more than he's ever seen in one location, were running rampant in the camps, destroying tents and crates of supplies while also tossing around fatuus like they were ragdolls. Take one down and two more seemed to appear from the mountains while Childe did his best to keep them away enough for the troops he brought to drag survivors away, it was disastrous. The smell of blood was definitely in the air, the sun starting to dip in the horizon and he knew if he and his men didnt move quick enough, they'll all be taken out when the sun goes down.

• A second of hesitation was all it took for a geovishap to slam him against a tree, monstrous roar ringing in his ears and the sounds of rapid steps approaching him, he thought of transforming into his foul legacy form as a desperate last resort, but was stunned when the roaring creature was suddenly silenced, completely beheaded by the figure that suddenly appeared in front of him. His head is spinning, but he cant mistake your clothes. His heart flutters, a weak hand reaching out towards you and your name coming out in a whisper before you're kneeling before him, assessing his injuries and taking his hand in yours. "Dont move, ill get you all to safety."

• "I know...... what you are", Childe still forces out before he erupts into wet coughs. You furrow your brows, concern etched all over your features before you encourage him to continue, no doubt he finally pieced together this puzzle he's been struggling with. "You're........ anemic", was all he could manage before he lost consciousness, going limp and completely missing the look on your face. Part of you wants to break out into a laugh, the other part is confused on how he even came to that conclusion, but the biggest part of you knew that any teasing would have to wait until you get him and his team out of the vicinity of the rampaging geovishaps, so after barking an order to a frightened fatuus, you turned towards the current disaster and make quick work of taking down the geo creatures.

• Childe wakes up in a bed that he doesnt recognize, it doesnt have anything fatui related nor does it seem to be a hospital room. He notes the little trinkets he sees, memorabilia and ancient books before the door opens and you're walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of fruit in the other. He sits up to the best of his ability, which wasnt much since he's hissing and groaning in pain. "Stop moving, you'll only hurt yourself more", you softly scold him, placing the water and fruit on the bedside table before pressing a gentle hand to his bandaged chest and easing him back into a laying position. Childe catches your hand before you could pull away, keeping it close to his chest and its then he realizes just how cold your skin is compared to his.

• "Anemic? Really Tartaglia?", you snicker, breaking the tension in the room and he flushes in embarrassment, face scrunching into a cute pout. "What? Thats all I could think of! Fine, why dont you tell me what you are then", he huffs, idly playing with your fingers while you chuckle and lean in close to his ear, amused in the way he shudders. "Im a monster of the night, my dear harbinger. A vampire", your voice trails off in a whisper while you lick along his neck, right where his jugular is and it took everything in him to supress his moan into a whimper. Hearing it come from you gave him all the answers he needed, all of the evidence he refused to believe was now mocking him, the way you avoided sunlight, your "picky" eating habits and not to mention the insane amount of strength you seemed to possess by being able to literally swipe a geovishap's head clean off its body.

• Archons help him now, he was down bad. It was the hottest thing he's ever learned about you, and his third eye is now opened with the fantasies of you drenched in blood and toying with him. You refused to touch him while he was still resting, despite all his whining and begging, his ribs still needed to heal. It was agonizing not being able to touch you, to feel you beneath him with the sickly stench of blood permeating both of your skins, but what was worse was that you refused to feed from him, not because you didnt want his blood but because he needed it more than you did and you had already fed.

• Jealousy reared its ugly head when he learned that you'll feed from someone once in a blue moon, when hunting doesnt suffice, and he's already trying to pry names out of you. Much like the elusive archon however, you give him vague answers in hopes that he wont try and hunt down your current blood donor, since it very much was Zhongli. It was strictly a business proposal, you'll feed from him, and in return you take care of his finances and duties while he's recuperating. Of course, it was only a matter of time before Childe is up and about, trailing your every move until he spots you guiding a dizzy Zhongli back to his place one night. He was slumped on your shoulder, murmuring praises in your ear that you just snort and giggle at while easily holding him up, blood smeared on your lips and cheeks that makes Childe's blood boil. He waits until you settle Zhongli down to rest, and as soon as you leave his home, Childe pounces.

• He prefers to have you to himself in the comfort of your home, but the alleyway outside of Zhongli's house will have to do while he's slamming you against the wall, body pressed so close to yours you can feel the way his heart pounds, can hear his blood rushing through his veins and see the clear jealousy in his eyes that are locked on your blood stained lips. "Whats wrong, Tartaglia? Vampire got your tongue?", you smirk, curious on how many buttons you can push. He growls, hand moving up to squish your cheeks in his fingers, the hold on your face almost painful. "From now on, you feed from me", his voice was deep, the dark look in his eyes sending a shiver up your spine when his lifeless blue orbs meets yours, and at that very moment your business transaction with Zhongli was terminated.

• It was messy and uncoordinated but in the heat of the moment it was bliss to Childe, cock messily thrusting into you while he's holding one of your legs up. Your bottoms were tossed aside somewhere, still intact after a few minutes of begging him not to tear them off because you'd still like to walk home with some form of decency, but Childe knows you wont be doing much walking after he's done with you anyway. You moan against his skin, fangs sunken in the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he groans, panting heavily while he whispers filth into your ear. "I hope he's listening, ngh", he shudders out a moan when you clench around him, clawed fingers leaving red along his back while he picks up his pace, the echoes of slapping skin reverberating in the night air. "Fuck..! You hear that? Hear how you're taking my cock so nicely? I bet Zhongli cant do that", he's snarling, orgasm beginning to bubble over and he's hoisting your other leg up. You gasp in shock, pulling away from his neck with a wet pop to grab onto his hair and shoulder for balance while he's ramming into you wildly now, forcing an orgasm out of you that had your eyes rolling back and your tongue hanging out for him to suck onto. He moans into your mouth, the taste of blood snapping the coil in his gut that has him pushing his cock impossibly deep to fill you up with his seed.

• He was insatiable, as soon as he carried you back to your house he throws you onto the bed for many more rounds. It looked like a crime scene in the morning, with blood all over the sheets and somehow on the wall, the stench of blood was sickly in the air but he's smiling like a dork while watching you sleep, dried blood on your jaw that somehow compliments the love marks he left on you.

• Definitely got a long lecture from Zhongli about what he heard last night, but he has no complaints about reassigning his business transaction to Childe, after a very lengthy interview about what he expects from Childe moving forward with his relationship with you. Seriously, it was scary.

[carpexiem]

overseas.

synopsis. seventeen year old y/n receives the ‘once in a lifetime’ opportunity to travel to america for a school exchange trip. with nothing expecting to go wrong whatsoever, y/n happily journeys overseas to seattle. only to get there and find out: her exchange partner is, in fact, male. and not female. like she had chosen?

wait…did she?

anyways, what could actually go wrong?

so many things, that y/n swears she'll never be caught dead on an exchange ever again...

pairings. exchangepartner!jay x fem!reader

features. heeseung & sunghoon from enhypen, keeho and theo from p1h, huening kai & beomgyu from txt, and a few ocs

genre. high school au, medium angst (you read that correctly, readers), romance, extreme amounts of reckless drama, crack, quite light hearted, enemies to lovers, possible love triangle??, childhood friends to lovers, pining, slowburn (we love to see it 😍)

warnings. swearing (like,,, riddled with profanity-), references to violence (it's pg-13 except from the swearing part), every warning will be placed in their respective chapter more may be added!

commence date. 1st march

update schedule. every saturday and sunday 6pm [gmt]

tags. #overseas.tlk🌊 and #overseas.chap🌊

playlist. linked -> here

a/n. ANOTHER ONE? yes. this one is wayyy better than maverick imo and im WAYY more excited for this. get ready for the biggest ride you've ever been on (what a hyperbole-)

also, the schedule for the american school will still go by how my school's schedule is carried out cos i couldn't ask someone for shit...and i only have like 2 american online friends which are saying that its too complicated for me to understand so....

and google doesnt help. like at all.

please note that this au does not reflect any of the idols in real life and is solely for entertainment purposes !!

taglist. @msxflower @lovienikitty @sunbokie @sophiko22 @certainyouthpeanut @kyoyangwon @justchuji @theskzvibe [still open! pls send ask if you'd like to be in it!]

anons. still available, check navi for more info!!

info cards.

i. y/n's clan

ii. jay's clan

iii. extra clans

chapters.

i. calm yo tits and install grammarly

ii. omg your mouth. it's moving like a rat. yappa yappa yappa. shut it please 😍

iii. honestly,,, that snoring abomination 😒🖕🏻

iv. anyways, let's get #lhsclandestineaffair trending everyone ❗❗

v. no. it can't be her. (half written)

vi. yeah,, to join his shit. you can't do trigonometry to save your fucking dog 😒

vii. DISSOLVING WHAT NOW???????

viii. nawl the way you took 5 business days to plummet to the ground sent me 💀

ix. her eyes are stuck on him like gorilla glue hELP- 💀

x. i just sneezed,,,, who is allowing my existence to inhabit their conscience 😟

[more under cut]

xi. suddenly i've been orphaned. adopt me oh park family 😩🤞

xii. in which y/n has an exchange trip, first impression crisis (written)

xiii. idek why i asked him to be here. begone thot 👋

xiv.

xv.

xvi.

...

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.