#like the universe has righted itself again
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Propaganda for each:
Xin Mo - Luo Binghe's sword that possessed his mind demanding blood sacrifices via controlling his obsession and was powerful enough to rip through space, time and alternate universes. The culprit behind the fuck to save the world trope in svsss.
Fangxin - the sword Xie Lian was stabbed with during the One Hundred Swords incident and that Bai Wuxiang gave to him to use after. It has an elegant black blade and has arguably been used more against its owner than any other enemies.
E'Ming - Hua Cheng's cursed scimitar forged through sacrificing his right eye during his ascent to Mt. Tonglu's kiln in an attempt to save the lives of people that had accompanied him in the quest. It notedly acts like a puppy towards Xie Lian, cries, demands pets and attention and has a massive praise kink canonically.
Xiu Ya - Shen Qingqiu's prestigious and highly acclaimed sword with an impressive sword flash and that SQQ complains often about not being allowed to fly on due to Airplane's low fantasy worldbuilding.
Xuan Su - Yue Qingyuan's sword tied to his life force after a cultivation incident in his youth. Badass enough to subdue opponents even unsheathed, canonically considered the most impressive cultivation instrument. The only thing that makes seeing three inches of it exciting.
Suibian - Wei Wuxian's sword named by Jiang Fengmian as a joke, it sealed itself the moment it was taken away from its master never to be drawn again (or so everyone thought). It is noted to be powerful because only high level spiritual instruments are able to seal themselves like this. The catalyst to the golden core reveal.
Bichen - Lan Wangji's stunning and powerful sword that can cut through anything including trees that its master cut down due to gay panic after kissing his blindfolded crush. Its claim to fame in the fandom has little to do with its remarkable strength, though.
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The Pirate King of the North: Part 3
Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship
Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language, drug use and explicit content.
Part 1 | 2 | 3
Law
Zoro-ya…
Zoro
DON'T.
Law
We've passed by the same block thrice.
Zoro growls. His fists clench as he continues to stubbornly walk ahead of the other man.
Law
Are you seriously this hopeless at directions?
Zoro
Shut up!! We're here.
Law cautiously looks around. His assumption was correct–the green-head is an idiot.
Law
We're in a damp back alley that smells like piss, in the middle of the night, behind some–
Just as Law is about to take another step, a couple of drunken men get roughly thrown out from a tavern and onto the stone footpath in front of him. The bouncer yells unruly curses their way and slams the door behind him. Law sighs, exasperated, and proceeds to follow Zoro, stepping over the writhing drunkards without a care.
Law
Lovely. Look, just tell me where you want to go and I'll take us there. We've wasted enough time already. Are you even sure that we’re on the right island?
Zoro
Shut up. This is the right place. I’m sure of it…this time.
Oh good, they haven't cleared it out yet.
Zoro confidently walks towards a large metal rubbish bin near yet another shoddy tavern. He readjusts the swords around his waist, and jumps up onto the container. The top half of his body hangs over the opening and the bottom half flails his legs to offset his balance to make sure he doesn't fall all the way in.
Disgusted, Law covers his face with his arm, glaring at Zoro's behind.
Law
You said you can get us in touch with the Pirate King.
Zoro ignores the man and proceeds to dig through the trash, arms deep. Some of the contents spill over the edge, and some he chucks in random directions by hand.
Law
Ugh… Is digging through the trash really how we get to him? It took us two whole days to travel just to get here for this?
Zoro
FOUND YOU!
With a couple of kicks in the air, Zoro's feet fall on the ground. He has his hands cupped together close to his chest. He quickly shuffles past Law, avoiding eye contact, and begins to whisper into his hands as he finds a quiet dark corner while his back is turned towards the other man.
Zoro
I need you working for me now. Come on.
…
I'm sorry I threw you away. I was afraid that you were tapped. Or that you'll explode.
…
C'mon. Just…I'll feed you extra or something. What do you guys like again?
Law's patience is wearing very thin. He approaches Zoro, tapping him on the shoulder with the handle of his own sword.
Law
Zoro-ya, what's going on?
Zoro jolts. He turns his head to look at Law over his shoulder. His ears have turned red. In the palm of his hand, two tiny curious orbs peek over at the doctor.
Law blinks in surprise, looking at the transponder snail with two curly brows above its eyes.
—
At the other end of the line, a den-den mushi with one eye awakens from its peaceful nap.
Den-den Mushi
Purupurupurupuru
A delicate hand answers the call. He lifts the snail’s handset close to his face.
Sanji
Hello?
My beloved! What can I do for you?
Mhmm… Uh-huh. Huh.
That sounds like fun. Sure, I'll help you.
I'll see you soon, my love.
Den-den Mushi
Click
The call put Sanji in a pleasant mood. He is on his bed, reading a book on his stomach while smoking a joint. The one-eyed transponder snail readjusts its shell happily before hiding inside itself comfortably for another long snooze. Sanji thinks that's a great idea, and snuggles himself further in the overly large pink feather coat that draped over him like a blanket, bumping the wavy red sunglasses that sat on his forehead.
Doflamingo shifts in reaction. He is splayed naked next to him with his hands behind his head, resting comfortably against an especially large pillow that looks proportional to his massive figure.
Doflamingo
“My beloved,” hmm? Who was it?
Sanji
None of your god damn business, you ugly fuck.
Doflamingo lets out a deep sinister chuckle.
Doflamingo
This your new toy?
Sanji
He used to be.
Doflamingo
The swordsman, eh? I'm glad to hear that you're making progress.
Sanji
Thanks, cunt.
Doflamingo turns his head slightly, nodding at Sanji's hand with the stick.
Doflamingo
Pass it here.
Sanji stretches his hand and gently places the joint between Doflamingo's lips, giving him a chance to take a long deep drag.
As thanks, Doflamingo holds the air in his lungs, leans over and captures Sanji's lips onto his to breathe the smoke directly into his mouth, making the other man moan deliciously. He takes the hint and pushes further in, shoving his long pointed tongue further down his throat.
Sanji lets him flip him onto his back, welcoming his full weight by spreading his legs wide so the large man can fit between his figure. He opens his mouth, giving him further access.
After a few moments of exchanging deep penetrating kisses, Sanji exhales the smoke out through his nose. He pulls back slightly to look Doflamingo in the eyes.
Sanji
Don't touch him, okay?
Doflamingo
You're no fun.
Sanji
I'm serious.
At this point, Doflamingo knows when he can push his luck and when he can't, especially with that tone in his voice. He raises a hand, telling the other man that he won't bother him further about it. Shifting back onto his pillow, he returns his gaze to the blue and the green-haired commanders standing guard by the doorway. They'd been assigned to make sure that he behaves himself which is the usual routine, but nevertheless he finds it entertaining that they always refuse to watch the show directly in front of them or make any eye contact at all.
Doflamingo
Think the blue one will actually let me have a go at him this time?
Sanji
Only if you want your dick bitten off, darling.
----------
A little drink to quench the thirst. Doffy is a big boy.
#pirate king of the north#villain sanji#old sanji#zosan fanfic#opfanart#op fanfic#one piece#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#roronoa zoro#sanji x zoro#sanji x doflamingo#alternate universe#villain au#sketch#one piece zosan#poor niji
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I'm done with comparisons here.
I need everyone to understand right here and right now.
Everyone had a good ending that befitted their character arc!
Spoilers below for the ending of Season 2 of Arcane, be advised.
We can be mad about Jayvik dying and not getting an absolute confirmation (though some may argue it is pretty clear) .
Some can be mad that there wasn't enough verbally said to add that romantic nature to CaitVi (once again, some may believe they have done more than enough)
IT ISNT A CONTEST!
I personally we are fortunate to have an ending that truly feels complete in some way. It was a good ending overall for everyone expectation wise.
Most of the time we get a physical show of love to confirm anything gay whereas lesbians often say some soft confirmation of love to be 'official' but this gave what media needed.
Lesbians showing a very physical and verbal show of their love while men are having their soft confirmation through verbalizing their love.
It's wonderful, even if you are unsatisfied by the ending for your ship (if you have one) that's why we have fanfiction, to explore what could have been.
You got a problem with the finale, write a what-if spinoff or write how it should have ended or what happened after the official ending.
Stop comparing Jayvik, CaitVi, and Time bomb. It's a waste of your time when you could be writing what you wished would happen in fanfic.
Be happy that the ending is something you can work with, be happy the possibility exists with a solid world built to utilize.
Heck, don't like the world? Build an AU (alternate universe) for them! Make them coffee shop owners, have them be military personnel, make them crazy European tourists!
Do something constructive and add to your Fandom instead of tearing down someone else's.
Getting mad at someone else's ship or flaunting about your own having a better ending is a waste of time and just literally detrimental to the show itself. Respect Arcane and what it was able to accomplish without push back, it is able to walk firmly because previous shows and their small steps.
So, in short, behave yourself. This may be the internet but your words stay forever. Don't try to bolster the status of your ship by pulling down someone else's.
If you feel called out by this, evaluate your recent behavior.
If you feel offended by this, really think about why you feel this way, because it probably isn't because of my language.
Yes yes, I know comparing shows is how we understand and make progress, but I am specifically talking about unhelpful dissertations or memes that specify a ship.
It's fine to write a logical explanation of why you prefer a different ship. It's absolutely fine to explain how something could have been better or evaluate the show and what it has done and could do better.
What's not fine is bashing it because your ship didn't have what you deem a good ending.
Not all people have good endings, not all characters will achieve their good ending despite how good they may be. That's simply the truth of reality and sometimes an author wants their story to mirror their idea of truth.
Respect the show and the work people put in it, and respect that someone else's joy does not deserve your anger just out spite.
#jayvik#caitvi#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane spoilers#fanfiction need#fanfiction#deal with it however you wish#dont take it out on us#you can be spicy for any reason but its not my problem
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Reconciling DC cosmology is complicated, @windsweptinred . Despite Lucifer fitting into Sandman canon quite well (it fitted in exactly until NG decided to write Overture 🤣🙈), there are still instances where NG has established one thing and Carey quite another.
But here’s what’s established Sandman canon: Creation started with Night and Time as sort of primordial entities (much like what we get in Greek lore, but also… not that 🤣). The first three (I think even four to be honest) Endless are *definitely* older than the archangels (there was an inset in the comics at some point where NG explains it all, I’ll need to see if I can find it). Dream *is* older than Lucifer, possibly by a fair margin (but what are one or two billion years for those guys, right? 🤣).
The younger three are a bit more complicated and generally presumed to be younger than the archangels if I remember correctly. They’re the result of fairly established sentient life (that’s not just human life obvs). But that’s exactly where it gets complicated and also a bit wonky in terms of reconciling DC cosmology.
Because here’s the kicker: Even for Carey, the Presence was born in the Dreaming. It is quite clearly stated in Lucifer that the Presence is a creation borne of human belief. But unlike all other deities created in the Dreaming, that belief made the Presence more powerful than even the Endless. We have a retroactive Dream of a Thousand Cats situation here (in fact, it *is* Dream of a Thousand Cats, because Carey implied the Presence was dreamed into existence when we broke free from the cats. NG, on the other hand, has commented we’ll never know if cats really ruled the world—it’s just what *they* believe). Anyhoo, due to that, creation, the universe, and all the beings and their powers, became what they are now retroactively due to the DoaTC scenario (whether cats where involved or not probably doesn’t even matter. What matters is that enough of us dreamed the Presence into being, and exactly as powerful as it is). That includes a new distribution of power, so to speak.
That’s why e.g. Dream, despite in theory being older than the Presence itself (and Lucifer, and the archangels), can be “less powerful” than them in one way but ultimately, he will always be more powerful in other ways. Power is relative here (we’re not talking superhero power scaling 🤣). Because the universe *needs* the Endless. And the Presence knows this (that’s where all the First Circle stuff comes in—it was only an Endless who could save the universe. Otherwise we’re back to the “is God truly all powerful and all good”-paradox. Heady stuff, not gonna go there 🤣). As long as there is sentient life, they *will* exist. This does not necessarily apply to the Presence, or Lucifer, or the archangels, even if some of them are currently deemed more powerful. But their power is tied to enough belief. The Endless just are. There is still an assumption in Sandman/Lucifer cosmology (and DC cosmology in general) that once people stop believing, that’s it. It might just take much, much longer than for some of the lesser deities.
So the Endless are less powerful in certain ways, but ultimately, they’re also more powerful because they will only cease to exist once sentient life ceases to exist. So unless the Presence decides to wipe all sentient life, The Endless will, in a way, always be more powerful. But the Presence *could* presumably do that. Only that it’d also mean there would be no believers left (now there’s a Rube Goldberg type-plan again, because we obviously know that even the Presence gets fed up at times 🤣).
It’s a catch-22 and brain pain stuff really. And pretty much always a “neither… nor”, “and… both”, “not quite” or “but also…” What I’m trying to say is: DC is trying to keep it coherent but ultimately never sorts out their shit, and we’re often on our own in trying to make sense of it all. And it’s best to keep the greater DC cosmology only very loosely connected and look at each story on its own, because otherwise heads *will* explode 🤣
Alright chaps, time to discuss, 'cause canon isn't quite clear on this one (or if it is, I was too dense to get it):
How is it explained that Lucifer is more powerful than Dream, when the Endless are above deities in the universal hierarchy, and Lucifer was created by a god?
Or is it less universal hierarchy related and more to do with the kind of power Lucifer wields (offensive? Destructive, arguably, although I like to see it more as productive power in the foucaulatian sense) vs that of Dream's (more passive? Defensive? Although we know he too is a warrior who fell gods).
What do y'all think?
#the sandman#sandman#lucifer#sandman meta#the presence#lucifer morningstar#dream of the endless#the endless#dc comics#vertigo comics
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thoughts based on this anon to @queermania
no but really they should’ve had jack have to kill Michael!dean and not be able to bc despite telling Cas he’d kill dean if it meant saving the world from Michael when it comes down to it he. Can’t :( that’s one of his dads ! And he knows dean wouldn’t fault him for doing it. He’s right when he said it’s what dean would want. Oh self-sacrificing dean. But jack can’t do it, so instead he uses up all his power and burns his soul to expel michael out of dean and kill him. And hey, sacrificing souls for family…that’s something dean understands too. He doesn’t Like it but he gets it. Then later, the parallel to this comes around when dean’s gotta kill soulless!jack but he can’t !!! Jack tells him it’s ok, he understands. Just like dean understood why he needed to be killed as Michael!dean. But that’s his kid!! So he tosses the gun away bc he doesn’t care if jack doesn’t have a soul, he’s still worth saving, still worth loving. He’s still family. And, god, they really do love in similar ways. Anyways dean gets down on the ground in front of kneeling jack and pulls him close, hugs him to his chest and says, “it’s ok, I got you, kid.” And THEN, chuck burns out Jack’s eyes while dean’s holding him, powerless to do anything. And dean shuts his eyes instinctively at the burst of light and he hears Cas’s anguished scream shake the world and he doesn’t want to open his eyes, thinks if he keeps them closed it won’t be real. Anyways, it all could’ve been done SO much better and for maximum grief and despair. Esp during the divorce arc to have them BOTH deeply mourning jack instead of having all of dean’s grief be focused on Mary which, tbh, didn’t really fit.
#sorry but like. yeah Mary’s death affected them but she was already there on borrowed time thru a loophole#she wasn’t *meant* to be there so I think in some ways dean would be like. ok with it#like the universe has righted itself again#of course he’d miss her and feel grief but not to the extent of cutting out jack and Cas#plus lbr he barely had a relationship with Mary. like yea that’s his mom but more in title than anything else#everything he knew abt her was myth#sure he’d mourn the loss of what could’ve been and of getting to know her better#and they were finally getting to a better place w each other#but still imo Mary’s death was blown out of proportion and didn’t hit right narratively#like the weight of it was not felt and did not feel equal to the fall out and aftermath#vic.txt#spn meta#the good spn that lives in my mind
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I'm excited for fanfest and the next xpac announcement but have become slightly afraid of 7.0 since i was talking with a friend the other day and we reached the conclusion FFXIV is at a very similar point point to where WoW was before Cataclysm 🫠🫠🫠🫠
#the plot is kinda over#we're doing a filler arc right now#the game feels like it's almost in maintenance mode#if they announce a 'we're remaking eorzea again' expansion idk man#i love this world and i love my blorbos from it#but i don't think the direction they've taken for 6.X was good and i'm afraid it's just gonna keep going like this#i'll probably be there for 7.0#but will i be there for 7.x? that's the real question#i know i'm speaking from a long time player's point of view but content has been reeeally sparse#only things left for me to do are ultimates (which i might) or inane crazy grinds like farming everything at eureka#and tbh at this point it really feels like my time in this game is done#love etherys#love this universe#but idk how much longer i'll keep going with the game itself
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“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.
A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.
*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever
The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you.
Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.”
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend.
You:
cutie patootie alert
there’s this really handsome guy at the bar
i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before
i think i’m in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong
i didn’t stare at him for too long
otherwise that would’ve been very weird
and no he’s not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair
Allison:
so you’re dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allison
Allison:
it’s okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure it’s nobody’s father
wait it’s not mine right?
You:
nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it
Allison:
bitch
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”
Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss.
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.”
“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features.
“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”
(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”
“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules.
“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up.
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”
Yeah… that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.
As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”
“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.
“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”
“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”
“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”
“Look, Wolvie. I–”
“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”
“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”
You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”
“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”
“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”
“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”
“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”
“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”
“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”
“Me neither.”
“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”
You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”
But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you aren’t.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”
“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”
“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”
“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail.
Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”
Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”
“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”
“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”
“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”
“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.
“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients.
“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.”
“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”
“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”
“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”
“What? No.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”
“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”
You could die at peace.
“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”
“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”
“Now why would you think that?”
“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”
“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”
“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”
“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”
You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”
You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”
“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment.
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”
“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”
“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”
“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”
“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”
“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”
“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you.
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”
“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”
“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”
“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, will you?”
“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”
He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him.
“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”
“I just... I want to understand you better.”
“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.
“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”
“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”
The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his.
Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”
But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”
He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”
“Should I give you some space?”
That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”
“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”
“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat.
“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”
“Am I that easily replaced?”
“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”
Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic.
“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”
“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”
You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.
“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”
“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”
“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”
“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”
“Careful.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”
“Get your hands off her.”
Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on.
“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”
“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?”
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”
“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.
“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”
“Don’t. Now is not the time.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”
“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”
“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”
“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”
You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days.
“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”
“Right here? On the counter?”
“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”
“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”
“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”
“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“L-logan–”
“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you.
“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”
He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble.
“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”
“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”
And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.
“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”
“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”
part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#wolverine#wolverine smut#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#deadpool and wolverine#the wolverine#wolverine x men#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#x men movies#x men#the last of us fanfiction#smut#fluff#wolverpool#deadpool 3#deadpool#logan x reader#logan xmen#logan x you#james logan howlett#hugh jackman#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan wolverine
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more .....
you cannot tell me they planned the whole timeloop bullshit from the start .... old viktor looks nothing like the mage in season 1 (aside from ... cloak and staff?? no tattoos, the way the mage does magic doesnt seem like viktor does anythign every etc) and its so?? granted i havent rewatched .. bc i dont want to see that again, but how even ... does old viktor turn 'normal' again?? they seem to break the loop by breaking viktor out of god mode so the loop is if he stayed in god mode ... right? what made him turn back .. complete with normal hands and everything? and tiem hopping powers?? is that the kind of "special" mentioned in that interview now? somehow?? is he gonna fuck with all the other region with his new special time hopping powers???
RIP og viktor btw, the VGU being the arcance god complex one is so .... thats not the same character man, like even his title 'maschine herald' (that was his og title right?) doesnt fit bc he does fuck all with maschines, its honestly one of the saddest parts of all this, he was a maschine guy and now hes a ... corrupted magic guy? (they even showed concepts for updating him maschine style .......) however outdated og viktor is, you cant fault people for feeling rather strongly about him being essentially deleted and replaced with someone of the same name (me with skarner ...)
did anyone else feel like the "big" fight at the end was really .. weird? like idk it felt like there was a total of 10 guys fighting at both sides and only around the hexgates, like they make it out ot be a big ol war and then its a handful of guys clobbering each other ... and all characters that got more than 5 seconds of screentime dying horribly ... ... the whole ending fight stuff, as pretty as fortiche makes things look, it felt so ... weird and floaty when most of the show before that ... ESPECIALLY season 1 felt so grounded
(ALSO i thought isha taking the crystals out of vis gauntlets would matter more? like ... she just doesnt have them from then on until at the end for some really underwhelming scenes but thats it?)
with the reveal of the new 'seasons' in league (which in itself is a cool concept and took them way too long to do anything with the darn map) ... i feel even mroe bitter bc ... yeah that ending going like that sure feels like it was done JUST to lead into that stuff, i liked mel, but her turn from political figure to just golden something magic blaster and then her turn for noxus feels so???? for her who wants to bet mel is gonna be the main character in the next show and shes gonna fight mordekaiser all holy golden magic style bc shes the chosen holy magic baby and having her fight him is the whole reason the black rose wanted her (bonus jinx annoying sidekick bc shes popular and has to be everywhere now no matter how little sense it makes) and of course shes a champion with a legendary skin to launch with (bonus points for putting her in skin tight bodysuit number 341)
(them making a big ass figurine out of jinxs last design in the show also feels slimy ... like its a neat design but really she does fuck all there and is .. barely a footnote in the whole universe and time bending stuff :/ )
while i do think alot of it is due to the extreme time constraints they had to work with ............... its not the only thing that messed with it
okay i do have to do a mini (i call it mini now.. this is just letting my feelings about it out, so its spelled agressively bc im just so .. frustrated ... also not hate to the studio or the people working on it .. obviously >_>) rant about arcane-
SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ARCANE SEASON 2
its the most beautiful show ever produced, i mean it, its style, fortiche's (the studio) style, is just .... impossibly pretty, 3d and 2d, the animation is just so GOOD, the designs largely (like 95%) are too, the acting and sound design, the voice acting (at least the english one) is so emotional and good, the show in general is just good ... until the last episode
i have my own problems with riot declaring arcane the new canon out of nowhere and for no good reason since it was, im very sure, never conceived to be that, its a reinterpreation and works best as such, now literally everything is once again completely messed up, no one knows whats real and what isnt, no champion or story is safe, especially with the weird hexcore bullshit potentially erasing the VOID (whish is like ... half on which the canon was built on tbh) AND hextech- multiple champions being impossible to exist now .... but thats not what i wanted to talk about
i was pretty on board with everything the show did, though i wasnt a big fan of the whole hexcore stuff, but it all spiraled so far out of control, it just kept making everything worse, also with bringing in the black rose and leblanc, it kept piling stuff onto the plate despite them already compressing everything so drastically; espeically regarding viktor, but i kept my hope up even after season 2s act 2 bc it still seemed 'fixable', though not easily so
what i liked about it (in its writing) despite its pacing issues was that it was rather .. self contained for the longest time, focused on the characters and the class struggle of piltover and zaun, and doing so rather well imo, like it did and said things i did not expect riot to let through
i was worried with the alternate universe stuff that came with the escalating hexcore bullshit but held onto hope even until episode 8 and then ...man .. the last episode ... the fuck was that- like i hate timetravel and multiverses and whatever but the thing with ekko was done rather neatly ... they made all those chaarcter models and sets just for that short stuff and really .. was of little use other than getting heimerdinger out of the picture as well lmao maybe he will get his own series to advertise for 200 dollar skins in league hahaaaa but i guess the main point was to give ekko the z-drive ... which feels alot like what i feared about them forcing it to comply with the characters in game ,,,, even though that wasnt for everyone like warwick was done SO dirty after giving me hope in act two
everythings focused on the hexcore/arcane shit, theres the black rose shit (honestly i think it was a mistake bringing them in too bc .. noxus is its entire own region with so many champs and story itself that got connected via ambessa .. which was a new character the show made up until they made her a champ now .. its just too much to put into this one show already going at a breakneck pace), mel doing her bit with them then bam she mage now which felt like a champion teaser more than an organic part of the story, especialyl with how hard it got pushed later (poor little riots gotta sell more game cosmetics uwu), jayce just taking over control again and everyone going with it, singed reviving stupid version victor via using vander/warwick WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AFTER ISHA BLEW HERSELF UP TO STOP HIM FROM KILLING EVERYONE (which was ALREADY pretty cheap, but i guess jinx had to be even more suicidal than she already was heehoo), dont even ask me HOW, viktor was just whoops from corpse to im a cocoon now, ambessa being so obsessed with it, the entire class struggle being """"solved"""" by piltover and zaun fighting stupid viktors weird ass robot shitheads together and then acting like giving sevika a seat at the council is the solution to it, half the cast just dying horribly for honestly no reason?? ORIANNA being now i guess some weird viktor robot but without the mindcontrol part and singed just kinda ... winning i guess by giving her cocoon some goo of stupid viktors cocoon
it just all ... turning from this so drama, character and class struggle thing into weird ass dimension hopping magical world war that all gets solved bc we fought together once uwu AND it being a fucking timeloop WITHIN what ONE episode? and that being the ENDING (i know i know the hexcore bs was building up throughout the show but it still felt so .. unearned and sudden ... )
also i got personal gripes with the 'ending' bc .. was it REALLY an ending like they kept saying?? was it?? viktor, jayce, heimerdinger, jinx are just disappeared i guess, mel going back to noxus- the fucking 'our story isnt over' tease???? the last minute appearance of swains fucking raven???? pecking at something blue and shining like idk a hex crystal??? SHUT UP i dont want more to come, this story should have had its self containing ending, not this open ended bullshit that just reeks of corporate meddling bc they want their game to connect to their popular show as much as possible now so we gotta bring in as many teases and connections to other champions YIPPIEEEEE (yelling)
also if jinx is dead, wow, what a way to end her story, the traumatized suicidal character being tortured and tortured especially after seemingly having something good for once (i liked act 2 except for its ending the most bc ... man jinx was so enjoyable there, i loved her dynamic with vi and isha and half wolf vander warwick with the beast and man struggle i love alot, that part was genuinely beautiful, i wasnt a fan of the idea of idk ekko doing time stuff and them having a happy ending bc i just dont like going back in time to fix everything kinda stuff, but i would have much much prefered that, not changing the existing story into the perfect world where everythings happy (though i liked that part ... vander silco being gay husbands like that is just so goood) but to fix what is fixable in the present- them still having gone through alot but being able to live with it, so act 2 setup was honestly my favorite way to not invalidate everything and still have something happy .... but no we gotta kill the kid to make jinx even worse and vander/warwick too while we are at it
if shes not dead (given you see a blimp(?) flying away and her scribbles showing up and caitlyn looking at the blueprints of the hexgates) then ... ??? oh yeah lets make her leave zaun and just idk go be the main character in noxus or soemthing for the next show they are gonna do bc jinx is popular so putting her everywhere is a good idea!!!1!!11
ALSO since vander/warwick is my favorite .. i thought maybe after isha doing that, if they dont reverse it, hed get taken by singed again or ran away and turned fully werewolf like he is in the game (though i would have liked if they were able to be a weird family like in act2)- but no he just gets used as fuel for stupid viktor cocoon and then mind erased and made into the ugliest weird robot thing that looks more like galio than him JUST and i feel like it really is JUST to have Vi at the end do the scene that gets jinx 'killed' .. to lead into the 'more to come' teaser.. idk about you but that scene felt so .. forced, the typical oh no platform is slowly falling down but Vi suddendly gets emotional about weird ugly robot warwick (who conveniently comes back to life as ugly robot beast since his human mind got erased but not the beast??? i guess???) and completely ignores jinx yelling at her to get to safety, it felt so WEIRD to me (if you gotta do him like that at least let Vi listen to jinx, them embracing and then watchign emotionally as robo vanderwick falls into the hexgate thing .. that was still active somehow i guess??)
(poor viktor got done so dirty too .. i liked him .. until it all went weird wit hthe hexcore stuff ....... ..... also jayce weird speech to him .. why the FUCK did you not do that back in the cult camp instead of blasting him to bits, i get it he was fucked up from seeing the future, but then later hes just ... okay???? pretty fine all things considered??? and pretty aware of everything?? also his weird speech being all like vitkor actually you were perfect in your imperfection BITCH HE WAS SLOWLY DYING AN AGONIZING DEATH???? idk ??? it all feels so weird to me, like there episodes literally missing- ambessa dying also felt so unnecessary .. just so mel can take her place and go to noxus and have more shows maybe- )
i just .... and just like how i cant enjoy botw anymore after them fucking it all up with totk ... i dont know if i will rewatch arcane knowing it ends like that, what was that for, the most beautiful show ever made just to do a game of thrones ending in a single episode?
im so tired of it all ..... im so tired of being disappointed and feeling let down over and over no matter with how little expectations i go in with
this willl be the only arcane rant unless theres some .. big stupid reveal that gets me more frustrated than i am now, which i hope there isnt .. im tired of being and feeling like this .. i just want to enjoy things, everythings going to shit IRL and i cant even find something enjoyable to watch
#ganondoodles talks#personal#arcane#.... had more ..... to say#sorry#i swear if they take aurelion sol and turn him from the creator of the universe bitchy star dragon that he is into someones backyard lizard#i know text rarely conveys how i really feel#i am not as mad about it as with totk#granted i didnt think id care about league lore this much still ....#still its not compareable to totk#but still similar enough that i jsut feel like theres nothing left to like bc it will all turn into corporate fumbling#im just tired honestly ....#i am more sad than frustrated about arcane/league
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I guess what I think is that suicide is a symptom of a problem and not the problem to fix, you know what I mean? To stop suicides you have to stop people’s mental health from getting to the point where they consider it, you have to treat the disease, trying to treat the symptom itself is almost completely useless.
For instance, Japan has spent a great deal of money on anti-suicide infrastructure, doing genuinely cartoonishly things like putting rollers on bridge railings so you can’t climb over them and slide right off, putting blue lights in the subway so it’s harder to see to throw yourself in front of a train. It’s not working. Japan’s suicide rate rose again in 2022. They are not addressing the root causes and stressors in their citizen’s lives and social barriers to mental health care and psychiatric medication.
It’s the same with universities in America, many have spent an exorbitant amount of money on turning their dorms into psych ward like environments. Anti-hanging chairs that you can’t stand on, bunks you can’t hang yourself from, slanted doorknobs etc. And yet suicide is still the second leading cause of death for college students. They make no attempts to make college easier, to make pausing and resuming your studies better, to make the pressure of an academic environment feel less life or death. They make no accommodations for the individual. They just make it a little harder to hang yourself in a few rooms on campus and call it a day, say they’re being proactive in terms of mental health.
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you know now that I'm like in my 2nd year of college and everything, I'm starting to realize that I have not actually been talking much about my college life here. like, damn, we got a lot to catch up on
#like where do i even begin#ive explored multiple universities outside of my own for various competitions#i have learned how to produce tv news nights snd commercials#i have become more sociable and outgoing than ever like i even dyed my hair last year and now golden brown is my main color#i've also had my heart played with with mixed signals throughout the first half of last year so top tied gay shit right there#and like vjdjd so much stuff has happened that it bewilders me#obviously i cant tell all of my stories here because well um 2023 has been my worst year yet so to speak#but i have grown - and i am alive still. and i think that in it of itself is a story worth telling#but then again it would be so much fun to rant about the gay shit and on who fumbled who esp since y'all wont ever fuckin know the girl#so woo perhaps there'll be a catch up ask box soon woo but not now kasi i am in exams hell woo#anyways bye#personal shit
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I wanted to know how Aaron Hotchner would react to discovering the existence of a daughter (something from college perhaps), she would be his copy both in appearance and personality
—Hotch has a surprise visitor and the world spins on a new axis. daughter!reader, 2.2k
readers physical traits like hair and skin colour are not mentioned, but she is described as looking like her mother (also not described) and as sharing some characteristics with Hotch!<3 I also altered canon so that Hotch and Haley take a break at college
“There is a kid in your office.”
“Morgan?”
Hotch pulls his phone away to check. D. Morgan blinks on his phone screen. It’s a slightly absurd sentence.
“There’s a child in my office?” he asks, returning the phone to his ear.
“I’m standing with her right now. She won’t tell me who she is. Anderson let her in.”
“How old?” Hotch asks, scratching his cheek. God forbid he steal two minutes of peace in the bathroom.
“How old are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m twenty two,” a feminine voice says.
“You said kid,” Hotch says, frowning.
“Anyone under twenty five is a kid to me. Are you on your way?”
He sighs. “Yeah,” he says, and hangs up, dropping the small body of his phone into his pocket. Twenty two isn’t a kid, it’s a year younger than Spencer was when he started at the BAU; Hotch doesn’t underestimate the intelligence of young adults. Why you’re in his office is another thing. He can’t have one day without inconvenience.
Hotch makes his way into the BAU office and up the stairs to the half level where his own office resides. Morgan leans against the door with his arms crossed, standing to attention when Hotch passes.
“Thanks, Morgan,” Hotch says.
Morgan nods, sending a curious gaze at you before he leaves.
You’re dressed very formally for someone your age, but it’s not as though this is different from the norm of the building. You have on a dark shirt with a starched collar and a fitted blazer, a crisp skirt, and leather Mary Jane heels, one pressed flat to the back of the other.
You stand when he comes in.
“Mr. Hotchner?” you ask.
“Yes?” he asks.
You have a small file in your hand. Paper with worn edges pokes out of one side as though you’d been looking through it and put it hastily away, and the Manila file itself is fresh.
“Do we know one another?” he asks.
You look familiar. It’s possible he would’ve known your parents —it could make sense. A colleague or acquaintance assumed he could help you with something, and you in your naivety you made your way in.
“I think you know my mother.”
“And she was?” he prompts. Not impolite, but needing to move forward. He’s very busy.
You take a small step back. “Mr. Hotchner,” you say again, something nervous in your eyes as you lift your chin, “I don’t want to waste your time. I’m aware I might sound foolish, or that this… might not be something you want to hear, but. My mother told me you met in college, and that…”
You bite your lip.
He’s incredibly confused now. Not one to let a stranger suffer whether in real pain or awkwardness, he opens his hand. “Can I?”
“Yes, sir,” you say.
You don’t want to pass it over, but you do as he’s asked.
The photograph is a shock, held with a paperclip to a magnolia sheet of paper. It’s of Hotch, undoubtedly, a much younger Hotch sitting on a bench with a woman he recognises immediately. He only looks at her, and he knows why you’re here, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking.
“Do you remember her?” you ask quietly.
He doesn’t answer.
“She says you’re the only man that could… possibly be my father.” You hold your hands behind your back.
He lifts the photograph. There’s not much else to look at, only your photo ID, your birth certificate where he is glaringly not listed, as well as your mother’s birth certificate, and proof of her enrollment at George Washington University.
You look a little teary. Trying very hard to be sober, as you have been since he laid eyes on you, but clearly getting more and more upset as time goes on. He’s feeling a similar ache, a searing pain in his chest, staring at you from over the Manila folder to really, really look at you. He swears he can see something of himself in your face, though he’s not sure what. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking.
There’s certainly some of him in your frown.
“I think you should sit down,” he says softly.
You sit down immediately in the chair you’d inhabited a few minutes ago.
He’s not sure what to say. Are you sure it could only be him? Is your mother? But you’re looking at him with an expression he practically trademarked, whether he wanted to or not, and the proof is in his hands: you’re your mother’s daughter, and Hotch would have slept with her almost twenty three years ago. He doesn’t need much time to do the math.
“I realise my word alone isn’t a lot to go on, sir, so– so if you’d want to, I’ll of course submit for a paternity test. Or if you want nothing to do with me, that’s okay too.”
“It’s not okay,” he says, closing your folder.
Your eyes widen just a touch.
“Can I sit with you?” he asks.
You push your chair back to make lots of room. He sits in the chair besides yours, cautious that being across a desk from you is insensitive, or cold, at least.
He looks at you and he’s sure that you’re his. The longer you sit there, the more sure he becomes.
“I do want a paternity test,” he says, watching your tight nod.
He believes you. And truly, if he was unsure of what you’re saying he’d still give you grace now, because the first time you meet your father should be full of love. He should’ve been there to hold you in one arm twenty two years ago, he should’ve been there for you through everything he’s already missed.
“But I believe you,” he says.
“You do?”
“I’m a very good judge of character. I know that you believe what you’re telling me completely,” he says.
“How?”
“When you’re nervous your hand drifts to your chest, but you didn’t move when you suggested I’m your father. You haven’t once checked the door or looked toward the camera in the corner of the room.” And the full truth. “I want to believe you.”
“Why?” you ask.
“You look like your mother, but…” He lets himself smile. “You sound like me.”
You laugh under your breath. “Hopefully not so deep.”
“I’ve had it described to me as mellifluous.”
“I’ve wanted to hear your voice since I can remember. My mom didn’t talk about you much, but I’ve always wondered. She told me she didn’t know who you were, and…”
“And you believed her. Any child would do the same.”
“She’s made mistakes.” You look to him with eyebrows gently pinched, asking him to understand. “But I looked you up. When she told me your name, I looked for you online, and… I always thought I never needed you, even if I wanted to know you. I thought you might want to know me. I thought that a man like you would want to know.”
There’s something you’re not saying. Hotch doesn’t mind. “Of course I want to know you.”
You chance a smile at him. “You really believe me?”
“You were expecting me to turn you away.”
“No, just– I’m not a kid, even if your colleague said so. And I’m not an image of you, I don’t have your eyes. All I have is that photograph. There's not much evidence to go on.”
He sees no reason why a young girl like you would walk into his office and tell him who you are. Self preservation insists on a paternity test, and soon —UnSubs haven’t ever done something so conniving as imitating a family member yet, but there’s no prediction for evil— but Hotch has an inherent sense of the truth.
“What do you do?” he asks.
You frown. “Sorry?”
“What do you do?” he asks again, “You’re dressed like a lawyer.”
You nod with a smile you’re pushing into a flat line unsuccessfully. “I’m at GWU. For law, like you and my mom.”
“She only just told you who I am?” He speaks each word carefully.
“The photo fell out of an old album, and I had a funny feeling. I asked her about it and she said I’m too much like you. She admitted it like the secret had been eating her alive.” You look at your hand on the armrest. “We aren’t getting along right now.”
“I don’t know why she wouldn’t tell you. Or me,” he says honestly.
“I don’t know either.”
Hotch is expecting a lot more awkwardness than he feels as he puts his hand over yours. You stay very still.
“Thank you for coming here today.” He gives your hand the barest squeeze and stands. “Have you eaten? I could take you out for dinner,” he suggests.
You stand with him. “Are you serious?” you ask, gentle and pleased at once.
“I think you have a lot to tell me, and I’d love to listen.”
“You’re not working?”
Sometimes, sometimes, there are things that can be worked around or held on the back burner. You and Hotch go for lunch.
—
Aaron Hotchner knows many important people. Your paternity test takes a day, less than twenty four hours from the time you both submit samples, but you have a class you can’t miss and he’s sure you’re nervous, so you don’t meet again for two days regardless. By then, you both know the results. (And Aaron’s had to have a very strange conversation with his wife, in which she doesn’t believe him, and then has to sit down.)
He can admit to being far more protective of you once he knows the truth for sure, though he knows it before the results come back. You’re his daughter, and he’s left you without a father for two decades of your life, your formative years, time he can never get back.
He doesn’t even know what to do. How can he make up for it? Twenty two years of birthday cards? He feels like buying you a diamond necklace with a stone for each year, and then he wants to buy you a house, but mostly he wants to give you a hug. He thinks about it for so long the morning before he’s scheduled to meet you again that it makes him as upset as he’s ever been in his life, desperate to say sorry to you and your mother and furious with her for keeping you a secret.
He thinks of all those years without an inkling of your existence, and now you’re the only thing he can think about. His remorse makes him sick.
You’re smiling when you see him. For a millisecond, you look like Jack.
“Hi, Mr. Hotchner!” you say, standing from the table, your formal dress and cardigan pressed neatly, your hands held behind your back.
‘Mr. Hotchner’ will need to be fixed quickly, though he won’t force you to call him anything else. He can’t help himself, however.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly.
You pause, and you laugh. “This is weird.”
He doesn’t mean to make it weirder, but he opens his arms, and he waits for an indication that you might not want a hug before he leans in to hold you. You’re still so young. There’s still time for him to be a good father to you.
He can’t say everything he needs to in his hug, and at the end of the day he’s a stranger to you; you probably don’t want him to hug you for too long. But he rubs your back, and he promises himself that he won’t let you down twice.
Your arm curls tentatively behind his back. For a second, you press your face to his shoulder and breathe.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away.
Your lip twitches to one side like his would when presented with such heavy sincerity. “I’m okay. How did, um, Haley take the news?”
“She just wants to meet you, okay? You’re part of my family now.”
You give no indication you’ve heard what it is he’s saying to you, or whether you like it as you sit down at the dinner table. He quite likes that some way, somehow, you’ve become like him, but he wonders if he might not love it so much when he asks how your mom is taking this new development and you just smile.
“We’re going to tell Jack about everything this weekend,” he adds. “He’ll be excited, if no one else.”
“And Haley doesn’t mind?”
“She’s not going to ask you to babysit anytime soon, honey, but no, of course she doesn’t. He should meet his sister before she’s too old for legos.”
You actually laugh.
Dad humour transcends age, and for that, Hotch is grateful.
—
only after I finished did I wonder if I misinterpreted the request and this was supposed to be x reader with a shared daughter so if that’s the case I’m sorry original requester!! and I can totally write that if that’s what you meant 🫶❤️
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds#aaron hotchner and daughter!reader#aaron hotchner fluff
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The Other Woman
(Part 2 FINALE)
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Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.
Link to Part 1
Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader
Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?
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A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~
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You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.
Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…
He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.
Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.
He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.
There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.
Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.
He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.
When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.
Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.
The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?
He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.
Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.
Right?
—
The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.
You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?
Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.
“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.
There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.
She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.
—
You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.
“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.
Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.
“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.
You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.
You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.
—
Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.
The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.
“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.
You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.
It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.
You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.
After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.
What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.
—
Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.
Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.
You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.
He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.
Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.
He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.
Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.
Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.
—
“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.
“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.
“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.
“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.
“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.
—
You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.
Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.
“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.
—
Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.
“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”
“I already sent people.”
“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.
“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.
“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.
“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.
“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.
“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.
He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.
His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.
Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.
Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.
“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.
“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.
He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.
“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.
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Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.
The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.
The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.
Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.
At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.
Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.
You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.
“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.
You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.
Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.
“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”
You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”
Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?
Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.
“We can’t do this Miguel.”
He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.
“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.
“Good, she deserved better.”
“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.
“Please stay here.” He whispered.
Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.
“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”
It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.
“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.
Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…
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The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!
i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.
So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!
If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!
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i just watched scott's session 7 and noticed a pattern: every single person forgot about grian.
grian hasn't been caught yet, cleo and scott establish. barely a minute later, scott is leading cleo and bigb by the hands to his secret spot and saying "i think we're the last three." like the name has slipped right out of his hands.
as etho tells the other zombies that no, actually, he doesn't want to kill cleo, it occurs to him suddenly. "actually, i kind of want grian to succeed on this, don't i? he's my teammate," he says, not like he doesn't care for grian, but like he's shocked he even forgot in the first place. (seconds later, he lifts his gaze to the sky, and he sees where grian is hiding. he's the only one who sees. he carries this secret with him as he watches grian run, an apology of sorts; sorry I forgot. I hope this makes it better.)
but it got me thinking: this is what grian does, isn't it? even since 3rd life, where he hid in the shadow of scar, whose face was always, always in the light, as he burrowed under doorways, covered in redstone and days-old blood. no one thinks of him as scar sells them the coffins grian will put them in.
grian has mastered the art of becoming nothing. he's so nothing, in fact, that his presence glances off the skin of even his friends. his name slips away from them. he disappears time and time again, falling through their fingers like sand. there are brief moments: "where's grian?" someone asks, but their blood is boiling and their fingers are itching. the image is a mirage and the sand crumbles at their fingertips. it's gone as soon as it comes; back to cleo, green cleo, uninfected cleo.
a reminder, perhaps from the universe itself. he is nothing but a ghost of a memory, a whisper of a promise. this is by design. the universe is telling him this, as it strings grian up limb by limb: you were only ever meant to watch.
#poeticism is lost to me im half asleep is this nonsensical#i dont care let me sum this up#watcher grian#thats all#grian#secret life#secret life spoilers#desert duo#trafficblr#ethoslab#zombiecleo#scott smajor#roomies#watchers#scarian#kinda?#3rd life#third life#watercolor words
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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)
in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k
CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out
NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3
NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN
READ ON WATTPAD | AO3
PART ONE | TWO | THREE
You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.
As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.
Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department
You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.
But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.
There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.
That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.
7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.
You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.
Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.
I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.
Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.
You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.
You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.
Your ID. Funny.
As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.
Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.
And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.
How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?
God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...
Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.
You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.
But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.
It is, to simply put, awkward.
You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.
You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...
It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.
Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.
Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.
"Oh, hi. Good morning—"
You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.
What the fuck.
How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.
"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.
You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.
You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.
That something is apparently sending you a text.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?
The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴
On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.
You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?
And then your phone dings once again.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work
You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.
Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.
It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.
Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.
"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.
Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."
You pout at that.
"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"
"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"
If only she knew.
You shake your head to her question.
"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.
"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."
Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.
"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.
Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.
Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.
"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.
"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.
She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.
Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.
"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.
"A little." You reply.
Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."
"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.
"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.
"__, can you get this khia away from me?"
You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.
Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.
"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.
Now that makes you squirm.
"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.
Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"
"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.
"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"
You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.
"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.
You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.
"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.
"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.
"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."
"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.
Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."
"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."
You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.
Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.
Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.
"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.
"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."
And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now.
Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.
"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.
Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.
"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."
You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.
He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.
But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.
You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we
Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.
But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.
Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.
It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.
You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):
Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?
You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late
You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!
Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.
You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?
You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊
Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.
Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.
You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.
Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.
The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.
Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.
"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.
You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.
You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?
But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.
The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.
You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?
You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.
Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.
He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.
There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.
As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.
That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.
"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.
It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.
You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—
"Oh, I can't do that."
Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.
That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.
Well, that ruins fun.
You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.
Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.
You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.
There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.
But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.
Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.
A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.
Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly.
Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.
It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.
You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.
Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.
Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.
But it's ultimately inevitable
And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.
And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.
You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.
If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?
You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.
But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.
And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.
Absolutely ridiculous.
But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.
It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.
Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.
With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.
You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.
So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.
It's alright. Nothing is going to change—
Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.
Fuck.
"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."
"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."
"Mr. Jeon."
Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.
Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!
Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.
Oh my god. Fuck me.
You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.
But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.
You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.
That makes you roll your eyes.
You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.
A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.
What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.
Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...
You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.
You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.
You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.
But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.
Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.
The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.
You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.
On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today
You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.
But you know the attempts will be futile.
If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.
Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.
Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.
The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.
With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.
You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.
Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—
And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.
You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.
"Hi."
The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.
"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"
You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.
"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.
Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.
He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.
"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."
Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.
He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.
The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.
"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."
You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.
"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"
"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.
Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"
When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."
"This is enough for two?"
He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?
You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"
Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.
"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."
You narrow your eyes at him.
"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."
Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.
"No matter what's on the line?"
"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."
His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.
But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.
"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.
It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.
That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.
"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.
He shakes his head. "Nothing."
"Okay, now you're just making me curious."
"It's nothing."
"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.
He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.
"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.
Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.
When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.
Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.
Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.
Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.
"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."
He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.
"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.
"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.
His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.
You approach his direction to find yourself useful.
"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.
"It's fine."
His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.
Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.
"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...
"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.
"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."
"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."
You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.
"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.
The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.
"Anything is fine."
"Okay."
You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.
Oh. Wow.
He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?
How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.
After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.
You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.
Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.
You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.
"You're still in your work clothes."
You stop.
"Yeah..."
And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.
It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.
You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.
You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.
"So... about your text earlier."
There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.
"Yeah?"
"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.
But Jungkook just nods his head again.
"I see."
He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.
"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."
"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."
You gasp audibly.
So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?
"How did you know that?"
"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."
You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.
Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.
"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.
You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.
Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.
"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."
Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.
"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.
He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"
You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—
"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.
"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.
Wealthy people do have a tiny world.
"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."
It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.
"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.
But he shakes his head instead.
"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."
"In Italy?"
"Yeah."
You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.
You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.
"You're right." You sigh.
Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.
"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.
You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.
Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?
You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.
"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.
You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.
"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.
"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."
"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."
"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."
"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"
"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."
"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"
You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.
"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."
"That's really nice."
And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"
"What?"
"That you know me?"
"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"
"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.
"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.
Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.
"Thanks."
And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.
A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"
Jungkook shakes his head.
"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."
Your brows furrow. "When?"
"Uh... earlier this morning."
"Oh. Yeah..."
You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.
But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"
"Why, did you see me there?"
You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.
"No." You lie.
"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."
"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.
"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","
"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.
"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"
Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.
You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.
Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.
"Yeah, it did, actually."
"How did you do it?"
You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."
"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."
"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.
What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.
He's such a fascinating person.
"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.
"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.
"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."
The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.
"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."
"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.
"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."
"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."
You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.
Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.
You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.
"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.
Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.
"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.
"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.
Jungkook stares at you for a bit.
"Why would that weird me out?"
He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.
You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.
"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."
Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"
You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.
"It's bad because..."
"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.
You look away.
"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."
When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.
"Why?"
"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."
Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.
"Your thought process really amazes me."
You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."
"No, it's really... interesting."
He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."
Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.
"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."
You pout. "That's not what I meant."
And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.
Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.
You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.
"No...?"
Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.
"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."
Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.
You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.
With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"
In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?
"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.
"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."
"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."
You send him a suspicious look.
"No, thank you."
"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."
"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.
"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.
"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"
It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.
However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.
But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.
"It's cheaper."
You can't help but raise your brow.
"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"
You shrug.
Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."
Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.
"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"
"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."
You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.
But you nod at Jungkook's words.
Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.
"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.
Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."
You blush at that for no reason.
"Well..."
"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."
"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.
That makes you frown instantly.
"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."
"Hmm."
Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.
He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.
"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."
"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.
"Good."
You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.
Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."
And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.
"S-see you as well."
"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.
"It's literally just a plain white polo."
"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.
You scoff.
"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."
There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.
"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"
"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."
Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.
"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.
It works every time.
You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."
Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.
You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.
It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.
"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.
Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."
You button your trousers and groan at his words.
"I wish I was also in Italy."
"I mean, you could."
You give him a look.
"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."
Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.
"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."
That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.
"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."
"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.
"Rude!"
Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"
You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."
Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.
"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.
"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.
"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."
Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.
You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.
For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.
You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.
"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."
"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.
"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"
The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.
"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"
The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.
So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.
"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."
"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."
Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.
"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.
"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.
You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.
"It's really nothing big."
Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.
You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.
Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.
"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."
You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.
"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."
Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."
Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.
"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."
"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"
"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."
"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.
"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.
Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.
"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.
Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.
"I don't know... we're talking."
Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.
You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.
"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"
You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.
Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.
"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.
"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.
You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.
"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."
You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.
"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"
You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.
You give him a hesitant look.
"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."
Jimin nods, agreeing with you.
"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"
You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.
"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"
He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.
"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."
Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."
There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.
Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.
"Hey, __,"
You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."
"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."
Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."
When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.
Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.
"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.
But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.
"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.
"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.
But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.
Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?
"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.
"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.
Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.
As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.
You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."
"When is it coming?"
"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.
"Wait!"
You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"
"I can drive us together there."
"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."
"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"
"No."
Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"
You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.
"Okay, fine. But I owe you."
The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."
He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.
When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.
"Uh...?" You utter.
And then it hits you.
He's trying to open the door for you.
You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.
"This is the driver's seat."
"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.
You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.
So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.
"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."
And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.
Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.
"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.
You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.
"Slept late last night?"
You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."
Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.
You decide to look away for your own sake.
"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."
"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.
If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.
You quirk your head to the side.
"Are you free later for lunch?"
"I can arrange my sched. Why?"
"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.
Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.
"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.
You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."
He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"
"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.
"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"
"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."
"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."
You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.
"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.
Jungkook smiles. "Alright."
You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.
After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.
The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.
When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.
"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.
You look back at him in surprise.
"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.
"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."
You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."
You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.
The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.
When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.
"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.
"I'll have whatever you're having."
You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.
"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.
"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."
It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.
"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.
"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.
Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.
"Done."
You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.
"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.
"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"
You gasp.
"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.
He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.
"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.
You notice he seems to be extra playful today.
"Oh, yeah, that's right."
"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."
"You don't like driving?"
You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."
"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.
"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."
Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."
You almost snap your head to look at him.
"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.
Jungkook nods. "Hm."
"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.
Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.
Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.
"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.
"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.
He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.
You can't help but ask.
"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.
"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."
You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.
"That's sweet."
He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"
"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."
The smile on Jungkook's face falters.
"That... sucks."
"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."
"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."
You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.
All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.
"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.
"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.
You shake your head, smile not going away.
"Nothing!"
Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.
After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.
"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."
He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.
"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."
"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.
When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.
From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.
You glance at Jungkook and snort.
"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.
In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.
"That's Seoul High School?"
You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."
You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.
"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.
"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"
He nods.
"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."
Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."
The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.
You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.
"U-uhm..."
When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.
"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.
The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.
"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.
You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.
"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."
Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.
"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.
Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.
"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.
You look up, baffled. "Huh?"
"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."
You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.
Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."
You don't think you hear his next word right.
"Cute."
You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.
You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.
Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?
None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.
You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.
And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.
Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.
So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.
It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.
What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)
But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.
"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.
"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.
"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."
You do not, in fact, have enough cash.
You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.
Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?
This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!
"Excuse me, miss,"
Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.
"You can charge her bill here."
At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.
You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.
Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.
"Hi."
"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."
The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.
"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.
Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.
His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.
"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?
You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"
Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.
"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.
He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.
"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."
Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.
"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.
"What?"
"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.
Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."
The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?
Still, you shy away.
"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.
Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.
"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.
You give him a weird look.
"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"
He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.
"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.
"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."
Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."
You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."
"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.
"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."
Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."
"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.
He nods, making your grin wider.
"Sounds fun."
You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.
Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.
It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.
You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.
"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.
But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.
"Good girl."
And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.
Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.
Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.
"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.
Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.
"Cut them into Julienne slices."
"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.
He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.
"Okay, let me just—"
He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.
You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.
Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.
He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.
"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.
You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.
"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."
Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.
"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.
You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.
Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.
You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.
"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.
"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.
"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.
You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know... give up?"
Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.
You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."
You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.
The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.
It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.
"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?
... Which you offered.
That he took willingly.
You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.
"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.
"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.
You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.
"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"
You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.
"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."
"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.
You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.
While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.
Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.
By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.
You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.
Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.
First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.
But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.
It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.
Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.
Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.
From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.
"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.
"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.
You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.
"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."
But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.
"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."
"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."
But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.
Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.
You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.
The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.
Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.
He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.
"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.
You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.
"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.
"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.
"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.
"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?
But your shoulders deflate because he's right.
Still.
Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.
"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."
That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"
You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.
"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.
Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.
The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.
A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef
You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.
You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept
You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime
You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.
You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??
You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant
You [11:11pm]: sweet
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby
Your lips part.
Okay...
Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?
His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.
You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now
Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.
You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.
It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.
You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴
You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.
You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night
Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.
Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx
You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.
The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.
Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.
But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...
"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.
You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.
Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.
You're obviously awful at this.
You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.
But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.
Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.
You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.
Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.
Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.
You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.
"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.
But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.
"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.
Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.
It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.
The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.
"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.
You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.
And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.
Jeon Jungkook.
"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.
Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.
You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.
You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.
Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.
You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.
You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.
And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.
"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.
You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.
Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.
"God, what's wrong with me,"
You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.
This isn't good. You need to think straight.
A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.
You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?
Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.
August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉
"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.
Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.
PART THREE | ...
all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3
#fic: nb#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook#bts smut#bts imagines#bts scenarios#jeon jungkook x reader
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the golden quartet
art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader, wc: 2k
author’s note: basically just a way less toxic (?) version of the movie with the reader inserted. they’re all still incredibly codependent and tashi/reader are very much in love and art/patrick are very much in love and art/tashi have their own kind of friendship/relationship and so do patrick/reader, but really patrick and tashi are one couple, art and reader are another couple, but like they would all live together and probably sleep in the same bed hypothetically. but in a healthy way. i like to imagine a world where they’re all codependent but skip all the “villain” allegations in their mess, and it’s just a beautiful unspoken symphony of love and four-way fidelity and infidelity. will probably write more in this universe.
part two here
“Tashi, stop it.”
Tashi stops and her eyes lock in on you, racket dropping to her side. “Stop what?”
You watch the way she bounces the ball a few times and don’t miss the way her gaze keeps flitting to your hand.
“Stop analysing me.”
She lifts a shoulder in a shrug, and doesn’t break your gaze. “It’s my job to analyse the opponent so I know how to win the game.”
“Yeah, but you’re not looking at me like an opponent.” Your lips purse. “You’re looking at me like you’re trying to calculate how to get me back on the court.”
“You’re on the court right now, aren’t you?”
“You know what I mean, Tashi.” Your racket falls to the court exasperatedly and you manage a step towards the net. “It’s over for me, I’m done playing tennis and I’m okay with that, but I’m not sure that you are.”
There’s just a tiny quiver in her eyes before her gaze steels itself again and she nods. “Fine. I get it.”
She tosses you the ball. “Just help me train.”
You watch as Tashi gets into position, and pick up your racket slowly. Maybe you shouldn’t have snapped at her. You so rarely do, but you’ve closed the door on that chapter of your life now, and you’re sick of her trying to pry it open. You don’t want possibilities of what you could have had. You don’t want to put in more years just to watch yourself fail at something you never really liked in the first place.
There’s a dull ache in your chest as you serve the ball.
Tashi Duncan has been your best friend for five years. For the life of you, you can’t remember the details of the tournament you were at, but you had a game against her. It was electrifying. You’d never played tennis like that before. It felt like you’d never known what it was like to breathe before Tashi Duncan. She basically crushed you, but you managed to get in a good few points, had the audience and line judges on the edge of their seats, and at the end of it, when you shook her hand, you felt like you’d just discovered a missing limb.
She found you afterwards in the stands and sat with you to spectate the next few matches. And hadn’t let you go since. You couldn’t imagine a life without Tashi. She was there for your first boyfriend, she was there when you broke up with him, she was there when you failed a class and your parents threatened to pull you out of tennis, and she was there when your wrist shattered and you quit.
Tashi never really understood why it was so easy for you to walk away. “You’re one of the best,” “You have so much potential,” “You can learn to play with your other hand.”
She never seemed to hear you when you said you didn’t want to play anymore. She’d look at you, with her piercing gaze then look away and move on. But the conversation was never over. It was like you didn’t exist to her without tennis, like it was your one achievement, and she couldn’t gauge who you were without it.
You suppose you were flattered, touched even, that she cared so much about you, in her own weird way.
Tashi looks at you questioningly when you lower your racket. You smile, “You should rest up. Your drills are perfect. You’re gonna crush her tomorrow.”
She takes a look at her watch, then nods. You can tell she wants to stay longer, but there’s really no reason to. Especially when you can feel her itching for a real match. That you can’t give her.
You bump her shoulder as the two of you walk out. “Wanna grab some donuts?”
The unimpressed face she gives you makes you laugh. “Come on, we can get you one of those healthy ones. The gluten-free, vegan bullshit.”
“Sounds delicious,” she drawls, but makes no further comments. You grin. A success.
She says nothing as you swing your borderline crippled arm over her shoulder, but you feel her muscles underneath relax just a little bit.
The following day brings a new round of pretentious young assholes on the court. Some of them eye you up as you make your way into the bleachers, whispering to each other. A girl comes up to you and asks for a picture. You’re a little surprised, and feel a little blindsided, but you suppose it’s only been a year since your injury. And well, considering where you are right now, it sure does seem to the rest of the world like you’re not fully done with tennis.
“Yeah, no problem,” you say with a smile.
The girl takes the picture, thanks you profusely then leaves, and you make your way up to the bleachers, and find a nice spot in the middle. Tashi liked you to be right in the middle of the game so you could watch her and her opponent. You wonder if she’s secretly preparing you to become an umpire.
There’s a flurry of whispers all too close to you, and then there’s a shadow blocking the sun to your left.
Two boys stand facing you, staring at you with their mouths slightly agape. You can’t help the amused smile that splits your face.
“Can I help you?”
The brunet snaps back into reality first. “Sorry, we were just— are you Y/N L/N?”
“Yeah, I am,” you say, eyes flitting between the two. They’re cute. Really cute.
The blond shakes his head slightly, like he’s coming out of a trance, and says, “Sorry, this is just the first time we’ve seen or heard about you since….you know.”
He winces, and his head ducks a little like a scolded puppy. “Sorry to hear about that, by the way.”
You let out a laugh that seems to catch his attention again. His friend jabs him in the side with his elbow. “Oh, don’t worry about it, seriously. It’s been a year, I’m over it.”
“Huh,” he says, nodding a little absently. He glances to the brunet, who’s just grinning at him. “Um, by the way, we’re—“
“Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig, right?”
The blond, Art, looks a little speechless.
Patrick chimes in. “Yeah, that’s us.”
“I watched your game just before. That was quite some victory celebration.”
The way Art’s ears turn red makes you happier than you’d like to admit. There’s a little flip in your stomach as he fumbles, “Yeah, well…”
There’s a flurry of movement as Patrick puts his arm around Art’s neck and pulls him impossibly close in a one armed hug. “Social conduct’s not gonna get in the way of me celebrating with my boy.”
The blond leans away and fights to get Patrick off him, and you smile as you watch. “Don’t worry, it was cute. Plus, I get it. We’re sort of the same way sometimes when it comes to victories. I mean, not the same, but you know.”
That seems to catch Patrick’s attention. “By we, do you mean you and—“
“Tashi Duncan!”
The announcement rings loud and clear through the speakers as she walks onto the court.
It’s almost comical the way Patrick’s jaw goes slack and he slumps onto the seat behind him.
You watch as Tashi waves at her screaming fans, shoots her winning smiles and makes her way to her side. She catches your gaze for a moment and you nod. She looks away and begins to stretch, but you’re not bothered. She knows you’re here, and that’s all you need. Can’t try and take Tashi Duncan out of the zone.
As you sit down, you’re a little surprised to find Art mirroring the action, still looking at you. “So, you’re best friends with Tashi Duncan?”
You nod. “Since we were like, thirteen.”
“Oh wow,” his eyes widen and you can’t help but think how impossibly cute he looks, “that’s almost how long Patrick and I have been friends.”
“Really? Oh, wow.” There’s a beat of silence, just long enough for you to catch each other’s eye and look away with awkward giggles.
Luckily, that’s when the match starts. And your focus locks in.
“COME ON!” Tashi’s scream is palpable in the air.
It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. You’ve heard it a million times before, but it never fails to strike you.
There’s something akin to awe in Patrick’s eyes. Art looks like he’s in disbelief.
You can’t help but agree with their faces.
“So, are you guys coming to the party tonight?”
Patrick’s eyes flit away from Tashi’s to look at you. “Yeah, we were just talking about earlier. Art was saying how excited he was. He just loves parties.”
You can’t quite decipher the smirk on his face, but he looks like the kind of guy who’s never up to any good, so you turn to Art expectantly.
His eyes meet yours and your stomach does another little flip as he says, “Yeah, I’ll— we’ll be there.”
“Cool,” you reply. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”
You manage one quick glance back as you walk away, and see Patrick grinning and shaking Art’s shoulders. A smile plays at the corner of your lips and you leave.
Tashi finds you at your agreed-upon meeting spot, and wastes no time in grabbing your hand. “Come on.”
“Don’t you need to take pictures with your trophy?”
“Got a few, they’ll take more at the Adidas party. We’ve got to get ready.”
There’s a warm feeling like sunlight dancing in your chest as you let her drag you away.
The party is in full swing by the time you finally spot Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig lurking in the corner of the yard.
You’d just stepped off the dance floor for a moment, telling Tashi you were going to get another drink. The two boys seem to be arguing about something, but as you close the distance, you can see that they’re grinning too.
“Hey,” you greet the two. Their heads turn towards you in unison and they both stand up straight.
“Hi,” they chorus.
You take a sip of your drink as your eyes flit between the two. “So….what are you guys doing all the way over here?”
“You know,” Art says dryly. “Just enjoying the ambience.”
(Cute and funny. Man, you’re screwed).
“It’s a lot less creepy if you actually talk to her instead of just staring at her.” Your words are directed at Patrick, whose eyebrows shoot up. A smirk falls on his face. His charm instantly covers up the awkwardness.
Art barks out a laugh. (It’s a sound you wish you could inscribe in your mind).
“What makes you think I’m here for her?” Patrick smirks, looking you up and down. It’s so clearly a deflection, but it feels so natural that you can’t help but smile, and you feel your cheeks warm just a tad.
You glance back at the dance floor, and see Tashi excuse herself, glancing at you as she goes for her drink. You reach over to pat him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”
As you turn on your heel and walk towards Tashi, you hear a slap behind you and an, “Ow!”
“Tashi!” The smile in your voice is audible as she looks up.
“Hey,” she smiles back.
Then, her head tilts to the side and she looks at the boys. “Hi.”
“Hi,” they both say.
There’s a quiet moment in which you all exchange looks, a twinkle in each of your eyes. You can almost feel a spark of something in the air, and suddenly you’re thirteen years old again, meeting Tashi for the first time. Like another puzzle piece has finally fallen into place.
You feel your chest warm. If only you knew what your life was about to become.
#so. Hi#challengers brainrot runs deep#challengers#challengers x reader#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#tashi duncan x reader#challengers imagines#tashi duncan#art donaldson#patrick zweig#mike faist#josh o'connor#zendaya#written works !
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the master baiter
TG: dont be mad
TG: ok thats like asking water not to be wet but
CG: WATER ISN'T FUCKING WET GOD DAMMIT.
TG: look whatever remember when you said you would die for me
TG: is that karkat in the room with us right now
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CG: I'M DYING "FOR YOU" EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU PEEL OPEN THOSE SHIT-EATING LIPS YOU KEEP PULLED TAUT OVER YOUR DRONING IGNORANCE SHAFT.
TG: heheheh
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CG: YOUR WORDSLUDGE SPEARS EVERY PARTICLE OF MY BODY WITH PINPOINT STRIDERIAN IDIOCY.
TG: oh shit here we go
CG: A VERBAL BARRAGE THAT PULVERIZES MY FLESH INTO A FINE RED MIST, KILLING ME INSTANTLY. WIPING ME THE FUCK OUT, TO SUCH AN INCREDIBLE DEGREE THAT PALEONTOLOGISTS CAN'T FULLY DISCERN IF A "KARKAT" FUCKING EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE.
CG: THEY'D BE SCRATCHING THEIR NUGBONES OVER IT FOR FUCKING SWEEPS, IF NOT FOR THE SHOCKING REALIZATION MERE MINUTES INTO THEIR DEBATES THAT NOBODY ACTUALLY GAVE A SHIT.
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CG: AND YET THE TEMPORAL DEVICE STILL SWAYS TO AND FRO IN CONSTERNATION. VEXED BY THE COMPLETE MENTAL VACANCY PUT BEFORE IT BY MY HUMBLE SACRIFICE, BOUND BY ITS COSMIC ROLE, BEGRUDGED BY MY UNSOLICITED DEATH CLOCKING IT INTO OVERTIME. IT HAS BETTER SHIT TO DO, GOD DAMMIT! IT HAS A LUSUS AND A HIVE TO GET BACK TO!
CG: "WHAT IS THIS. WHO LET THIS ASSHOLE IN HERE," IT SAYS. THEY AREN'T EVEN QUESTIONS, JUST ORBITAL SIGHS OF AN UNCARING UNIVERSE. A REALITY NOW KEENLY AWARE OF ITS OWN LAUGH TRACK.
CG: AND ITS PENDULUM TEETERS, TENTATIVE IN ITS OWN DISBELIEF AND PROFOUND APATHY.
TG: damn
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CG: "THIS SCUMBAG ISN'T EVEN GODTIER YET," IT POINTS OUT. THE AUDIENCE FLIPS THEIR COLLECTIVE SHIT, AGHAST AT THIS REVELATION.
TG: hahaha
CG: IT WELLS UP SUCH A THRUM OF FUCKING ENNUI THAT THE TIMEPIECE FLIPS OFF-KILTER, LANDING SQUARELY IN THE "DUMBASS" ZONE WITH A "FUCK IT" LOUD ENOUGH TO REVERBERATE THROUGHOUT PARADOX SPACE.
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CG: IT THEN ELECTS TO KICK MY PATHETIC FUCKING HALF-CORPSE BACK INTO THE LIVING PLANE AND FORCE ME, VENGEFULLY FROM THE AUDACITY OF MY OWN IDIOCY, TO REPEAT THIS CYCLE AD NAUSEAM
CG: UNTIL EXISTENCE ITSELF FINALLY CROAKS UNDER THE COMBINED WEIGHT OF OUR COLOSSAL STUPIDITY.
CG: BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK WOULD I BE IF I EVER GOT TO HAVE A BREAK?
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TG: yep there he is thats him offincer
TG: the man after my own heart
TG: thats a karkat brand "soft yes" if i ever heard one and i know my karkatisms dude im a goddamn graduate in karkatology
TG: i got my degree in this shit
TG: im rocking up to our convos with the dumbass black square hat thing cocked 45 degrees
TG: literally incapable of snapping it back kinda by design of the stupid thing but damn if im not doing it anyways im emanating the snappitudes
TG: im rocking my intelligence right now
TG: also water is absolutely wet dude its like the wettest thing on the planet
CG: I'M NOT REPEATING MYSELF AGAIN
TG: yeah you are
CG: FUCK. I AM.
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CG: I SAID THE LAST THREE TIMES IT'S A CONDITIONAL TERM--
TG: and im saying its common sense like being wet isnt conditional when youre the perpetual thing of wettening
CG: NO
TG: and brother it is THE wet
TG: like following your conditional argument
TG: if water isnt wet then the other water molecules are constantly making each other fuckin wet so its a moot point
TG: great philosophical debate
TG: which came first the water or the wet?
CG: DAVE
TG: think about it all those particles are wetting each other up all the time and shit
TG: its a fucked up display
CG: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
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TG: pretty much a perpetual orgy of the elements
CG: DUDE.
TG: that sounds kinda sick actually if you dont think about what it means
TG: h2orgy
CG: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO VETO THIS STUPID DISCUSSION--
TG: tell me im wrong dude
CG: I'M UNIVERSE-APPOINTED TO HOVER AROUND YOU POINTING OUT EVERY DUMBASS TAKE YOU HAVE FOR THE REST OF TIME.
TG: thats so beautiful to me
TG: i could cry
#davekat#dave strider#karkat vantas#homestuck#comix#the master baiter#tabbydraw#this is my answer to artblock#late nite tgcg surprise
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