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pradaksj · 4 years

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Safety Net || part one. (m.)

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together.

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶ enemies to friends, friends to lovers, roommates au, fluff, angst, pining, eventual smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series.

❧ word count ⟶ 24,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ mentions of oral and sex but nothing explicit or descriptive. fight scene that involves drunk man. mentions of bullying (in the past).

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n (please read) ⟶ this story switches a lot from past & present, I color coded borders to make it easier to tell :) dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple= present, also this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes 😭 ill come back to edit a lot of things soon.

01 | 02

“Oh perfect, y/n!” Hobi stops you dead in your tracks before you could completely make your way onto the living room, “You don’t mind grabbing some more firewood from my car while I finish these up,” he says, currently too busy melting the chocolate for the s’mores he was making.

You see tonight was New Year’s Eve, and you and a couple of other close friends had decided to rent out a cabin in celebration of the new year instead of going out to some end of the year party, choosing comfort over a night of wild drinking. In the end it didn’t make much of a difference, because the moment you saw Jimin and Taehyung walk in with a pack of soju and other cheap liquor in their hands, you knew that by the end of the night someone, if not everyone, was going to end up completely wasted.

And of course, you were right. After hours of being outside in the cold, with the boys drinking as if there was no tomorrow, everyone had now made their way back inside, complaining that it was too cold outside and that the cabin came with an indoor fireplace for a reason.

Never one to drink too heavy, you had kept your drinking at a moderate pace, only allowing yourself to reach a relaxed kind of buzz. Namjoon and Yoongi on the other hand were currently debating on whether the US’s landing of the moon was nothing more than a fake ploy to beat Russia and was instead filmed on some movie set.

Jin and his girlfriend acted as measly facilitators between the two men who had been bickering back and forth for the past hour, their slurred speeches making it difficult to take either one seriously.

Jimin, for his part, had attempted to keep his drinking at a minimal but with Taehyung acting as his partner in crime, the two were now playing an unbalanced game of ping-pong, both of them looking as if at any moment they were going to knock out on the table. And Jungkook was— well where the hell was Jungkook?

But before you could dwell too much on the thought, Hobi’s voice snaps you back to reality, “pleaseeee, I’ll even add an extra chocolate square to your s’more, just like how always like em,” he flashes you a smile, your roommate of 3, going on 4, years knowing just what to say to convince you, not that you needed much of it.

Minus Hobi, you were probably the person closest to being sober, and you did not want to imagine the different disastrous scenarios that would happen if he sent anyone who wasn’t yourself out there. You also highly doubted any of them would even be up for it, and so with that you just let out a small groan, mumbling, “Where are your keys?”

Excitedly he points to the kitchen island, where his Hyundai’s keys laid across, “I parked right near the lake,” he says, immediately causing you to look back at him, brows furrowed in confusion, “No one wanted to carry the wood from here to the bonfire earlier, so I just parked near the lake to save our energy,” you roll your eyes, “Come on, it’s just a 2 minute walk at most, and I’m sure there’s still people celebrating across the lake as well so you don’t feel so scared, but if you want I can ask Jungkook to go wi—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine—” you interrupt, grabbing the keys and beginning to make your way out, quickly putting on your coat because God knew how cold it was outside. “He’s probably asleep already, knowing him,” you chuckle, the boy who Hobi had introduced you to in the last year and had been living with you two as well, had habit’s that were all too predictable by now. And though you knew he’d be more than glad to get up from bed and help, for now at least, you wanted him to rest as he, himself, was probably tired from carrying things back and forth all day in the help of preparing everything. “I’ll be quick,” you say.

“Make sure that no wooden splinter cuts you,” he shouts out before the wooden door closes, having been the victim to such cuts all day, “and call me if you find it too heavy!”

Beep. Beep.

Double clicking the lock button, you grunt as you try to simultaneously carry the uneven pieces of firewood and place Hobi’s keys back into your jacket’s pocket.

“Oh my God—” you mumble to yourself, frustrated by the lack of cooperation from the keys. The wood was now slipping from your hands, its gritty texture eager to leave you a cut and as predicted it does.

Wincing in pain, you uncaringly drop the pieces of wood, worried more about the cut on your hand than what had fallen on the ground below. Luckily the cut wasn’t too bad, nothing a little soap and water couldn’t fix, but the tingly sting in your hand meant that you’d have to wait a while before picking the wooden pieces back up.

Around you, you could hear the sound of different groups of friends and family celebrating with their own events, spotting different bonfires all around the lake. Glancing at the time on your phone, it currently read 11:00, only one more hour until the new year. A part of you was tempted to walk further down the path that led to the lake’s shore. Maybe even secretly wait so that you could watch the fireworks these groups of people most likely had shoot up into the sky at 12. Especially because you knew going back to the cabin, no one would want to come back out with you to watch. Honestly, how bad did they need their wood?

And so by convincing yourself, you begin to walk further towards the lake, careful not to trip on any of the scattered rocks that surround you. By the time you made it down, you were surprised to see just how far you were from other families, most, if not all, of them being directly across the lake. Honestly you wouldn’t have preferred it any other way.

You didn’t want to seem creepy, but the sight was somewhat comforting, the kids running around in their winter gear while their parents and friends all surrounded their bonfire, sticks and marshmallows in hand.

Not to mention that tonight was a full moon, the milky glow from the moonlight reflecting against the ripples of the lake, and the tiny stars which surrounded the magnet that was the moon only adding to the grand scenery in front of you. Usually you weren’t a sucker for these kinds of things, but wow did it look amazing. The person who’d really enjoy something like this was probably—

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, confused if you were seeing things because there he was, not too far from where you stood, sitting on a giant rock with his feet dangling, careful to not touch the freezing water. His right hand throwing the small pebbles that were near him to the lake. Not too hard, and not too soft. Clearly in his own world.

A small smile graces your lips, as you watch him continue, the lake not being the only thing the moonlight was hitting. His glimmering doe shaped eyes focused on the view in front of him, and you could only wonder what had him in such deep thought, but instead not wanting to bother, you slowly began to walk back, careful to not to make any loud noises.

One Step. Two Steps. Three Steps. Crrreaaak.

Mentally, you groan at the sound of the branch breaking, hoping that it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

“Y/N?” he says unsurely, his attention snapping towards the sound, squinting while trying to make out your figure from afar. Your tensed shoulders drop in response. Deciding that there wasn’t much you could do, you turn around and walk towards him, feeling a little guilty that you’ve probably interrupted his time alone.

He watches as you make your way towards him, scooting to his left in order to make space for you because unbeknown to you, he was not at all bothered by your presence. In fact, he had just been thinking about you along with a question that had been looming over his head for quite some time. And the fact that you somehow managed to appear in this exact moment, almost as if it was fate, only left him in further awe.

“I thought you were asleep,” you chuckle, gently sitting down on the empty spot next to him, slowly rubbing your slightly cut hands together in an attempt to stay warm.

“I was going to sleep, but,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “and well why waste such a good view by being in bed, am I right?,” he laughs before quickly noticing the fresh scar on your hand, “What happened?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

You shrug your shoulders in response, “I came to grab some more firewood from Hobi’s car and well long story short, I dropped them and well I got left with this,” you laugh, not taking your tiny injury too seriously.

Opening up your hand to further show him, he carefully examines the pinkish-red scar which was now slightly swollen, sighing in disappointment, “Mm you should’ve gone to go get it disinfected,” he mumbles, slightly shaking his head as he decides that he wasn’t going to lecture you any further, for in the past year he’s learned that even someone as sweet as you, has their own buttons capable of being pushed.

Having pushed them many, many times before, tonight he just wanted you to feel relaxed and not have to worry about whether he’d say the wrong thing or not. Tonight… well tonight he just wanted for you to seek comfort in his presence, the same way he’d found comfort in yours along the way.

“It doesn’t hurt too much if I’m being honest,” you give him a small reassuring smile, if anything your hands felt more clammy than they did pain. The warm feeling in your chest only expanding to the point where you swore you could feel it at the bottom of your toes.

Honestly, it was a feeling you found yourself all too familiar with these days, and though you knew what it was, you were also unsure on how to act on it, fearful of ruining the friendship with Jungkook that had gone through several ups and downs this year. And so for you the easiest thing to do was to just avoid thinking about it and avoid talking about it.

But there was no denying that the rush of emotions you’d feel whenever you managed to crack a laugh out of Jungkook to the point where his nose would scrunch so high up that you were sure that those happy days would last forever, or the ticklish butterflies you’d feel in your stomach on movie nights where he’d randomly begin to twirl your hair with his fingers, and the rapid heartbeat you’d feel hitting against your chest after an argument over something so trivial, until of course after several days of the silent treatment, one of you would get over themselves and stubbornly apologize whether it be through words or actions, were nothing but love.

Because even in the good and bad of your friendship, the arguments and the laughs, the tears and the smiles, somehow along the way you had found yourself falling in love with the boy who was nothing more than a stranger a year ago today.

“50 more minutes,” he says under his breath, bringing you back to reality.

Awkwardly you smile, “Yeah…” you breathe, the cold crisp weather causing vapor to come out of your mouth, a sign that you were freezing despite having such a thick sweater on. Jungkook is quick to take notice, offering his own puffy jacket for you to wear, to which you quickly refuse, “Take it, I have a sweater underneath anyway,” he pressures. You find it doubtful that his black cotton turtleneck was going to be sufficient enough for him in this weather.

You giggle at his sweet gesture, finding it all too endearing, “I’m telling you I’m good,” you laugh, your shivering fingers telling a different story, “Until the clock strikes twelve at least,” you bargain, pushing the sweater in his hand away back towards him, “then I’ll go back to the warm cabin.”

He looks at you as if unconvinced, but decides to drop it and take your word for it. And if you somehow managed to weasel into staying any longer past 12, then he’d just have to forcefully carry you back to the cabin.

Soon a comfortable silence fills the air, the two of you appreciating not only the view but each other’s presence. How fitting was it that the person you met on New Year’s day last year was going to be the person you ended it with, and begin a whole ‘nother year with.

“Can you believe it’s been one whole year since we’ve met,” he suddenly breaks the silence, almost as if reading your mind. To that you let out a small breathy chuckle, in disbelief yourself. Time had gone both so slow and fast this year, it was fascinating really, how you could be both so aware and unaware that someone’s very own existence was beginning to take such a special place in your heart.

“It feels like,” you pause momentarily, a small gentle smile appearing on your face as you remembered your first encounter with Jungkook, not knowing that it’d only be the beginning to the originally rocky relationship you had with him, “It feels like it was only yesterday.”

December 31, 2018.

New Years Eve.

11:00 PM.

“Only one hour left until the new year everybody!” the DJ shouts onto his mic and over the blasting music of the party you were currently at, “Make sure you grab that special somebody before the clock strikes 12!”

“You heard him y/n, go grab a special somebody,” Hobi teases, the two of you currently sitting at the bar acting as mere spectators to the group of partygoers that were currently having the time of their life on the dance floor.

For both you and Hobi, this type of setting was a little… how could you describe it … out of place for the two of you, but after weeks of begging from both Jimin and Taehyung and a little added pressure from Namjoon and Yoongi, the two of you now found yourselves here drinking the final night of 2018 away.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” you playfully roll your eyes, grabbing the shot glass full of tequila and downing the surprisingly smooth liquor. Hobi follows suit and chugs down his own. A squirmful look on his face following soon after. “Maybe if I drink enough, I’ll find myself dancing just like them,” you laugh, glancing at your group of friends who were currently acting as the life of the party, Jimin busting out what he calls his most “exclusive” moves.

Hobi, unlike him, remains silent which catches your attention. His attention was now on his phone, his face now appearing both red and stressed out. Nosily, you stretch your neck and attempt to peak at what could possibly have your roommate so worried, but Hobi’s quick to catch you. Immediately he pulls his phone towards his chest.

You gasp in dramatic fashion because one, your roommate wasn’t one to keep secrets from you, and two, well you were beginning to feel a little tipsy. “Now what could Jung Hoseok be hiding,” your words come out slightly slurred, a sign that the only thing you should be drinking from this point onward was some water.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he’s quick to respond, back on his phone but this time keeping it out of your reach, his fingers quickly tapping against the glass screen. You could only wonder who it was that had him typing as if his life depended on it.

“Come onnnnn,” you sing, playfully pushing his shoulder, “It can’t be that interesting, considering you don’t do much,” you pout. He looks up from his phone for a moment, but only to shoot you a glare, excusing your teasing with the fact that you were barely holding onto the state of being tipsy and on the brink of being considered drunk.

Hobi’s eyes quickly read the most recent text he’s received, rolling his eyes at whatever it was before sighing in distress, “You really wanna know?” eagerly you nod your head yes, “Well I was hoping he would be here so I could introduce you to him,” he gently shakes his head, clearly disappointed by tonight’s outcome.

“Ooooo who's the special person,” you quirk your brows up and down, but Hobi��s quick to shoot the idea down.

“Oh no, no, it’s not like that,” he laughs, “this person is a..” he pauses, trying to look for the best word to describe his relationship with said person, “Mm I guess we can call him a childhood friend,” he hums, “and well he’s been going through a bit of a tough time right now and well long before me and you ever met, he went out of his way to help me and well I think this time it’s only right that I’m there for him.” you tilt your head, slightly confused as to where this was going, “And sooo,” he sings, “I was hoping that by bringing you here and having you in a fun mood, that I could ask if he could stay at our place for a couple of months…”

You remain silent, Hobi’s words processing through your head one by one, an effect of the alcohol currently running through your system, “Only until he gets used to being in Seoul again, and finds some kind of solid ground here of course,” Hobi throws it in, worried that your silence meant rejection.

“Oh…” you mumble, thinking to yourself for a moment. Hobi’s friend huh? Well you and Hobi were like two peas in a pod, meaning whoever was a friend of his, was a friend of yours, point blank. You trusted that whoever this friend was, and whatever predicament they were in, chose to go to Hobi for the sole reason that Hobi was one of, if not the kindest person you’ve ever met, and was one of the very rare kind of people who made sure that whatever it was a person was going through, that they found a way to overcome it. And well you also assume that Hobi was going to take care of this person’s expenses … right?

You smile once you reach a decision, “Of course they can stay Hobi,” you laugh, a little offended that he thought you’d say no, but glad that he asked anyway.

Immediately Hobi breathes a sigh of relief, glad that he got that out of the way, “But he’s using your bathroom, make sure you tell him that!” you throw in, not wanting the order in which you had your things arranged to be touched with.

Hobi laughs in response, “I’ll make sure to tell Jungkook that,” so that was his name, Jungkook. Not too much of a common name in Korea, interesting, you think.

“So when do I get to meet our new temporary roommate?” you ask in eagerness, curiosity a driving force.

Hobi sighs recalling his text from not too long ago, “Well he was supposed to come here and celebrate tonight, giving you two a chance to meet beforehand, but,” he rereads the message on his phone, hoping the three bubbles would pop up at some point before scoffing and ultimately giving up, locking the screen, “I’m not entirely too sure if he’s going to make it.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you get up from the bar stool and stretch out your arms, yawning in turn, “Mm well I guess I’ll just meet him on move in day,” you joke around, glancing at the time on your phone, “but for now I need to go pee before the countdown, there’s only like 10 minutes left,” you exclaim, surprised by how fast the hour had gone by. Hobi nods in response, getting up himself and making his way to the dance floor, joining your group of friends.

And so you begin to walk towards the ladies’ room, humming yourself a tune over the EDM music that was currently close to rupturing your eardrum. How people liked this kind of music was something you’d never understand, but to each their own right? Luckily you weren’t as drunk as you thought you were, the effects of the tequila only acting as something quick and not long lasting. Now in more of a buzzed state than “drunk”.

“MmmMmmMmm,” you hum, pushing the door of the ladies room and making your way into one of the stalls. But what you saw once you opened the restroom stall was … um …. it was safe to say that you were shocked at the sight in front of you. Shocked to the point where you couldn’t even properly react, not even a shriek coming out of your mouth.

Instead you just stood there, wide eyed, at the sight of a brown haired woman on her knees, with her hair in a messy ponytail giving um … oral … on what you could only describe as a very very handsome man.

Now if you were to ask if he was really all that into it? Well it seemed a bit unclear considering how the two of you were now having a complete stare down, a shocked expression on your face while he had a stoic one on his, until slowly a small smirk began to appear on his face.

He scoffs before saying, “Enjoying the view?” and with that you finally shriek and quickly close the stall dorm, practically running out the door because not only were you embarrassed by the situation that just happened but still in complete shock.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, leaning your head against the wall in an attempt to process what just happened. And once you did, you facepalmed yourself in frustration, mad at the reaction you had because God was that embarrassing.

You had acted as if you’d never seen, hell, as if you’d never done the dirty with someone, but for some reason walking in on someone receiving their um... pleasure… had you feeling like a kid who didn’t know about the birds and the bees. And his little comment only added salt to the wound, he probably thought you were enjoying the view with how long you had stayed there standing like an idiot!

“Start grabbing your partners everyone because the countdown is happening in exactly three minutes everybody! Three minutes till we enter 2019!” Three minutes?! You had to find your friends quick! Pushing off what happened to the back of your mind, you speed walk back to the main sector of the club, looking through the crowd of people in hopes of finding at least one of your friends.

“Where could he b—Ah!” you impulsively squeal once you spot Hobi along with the rest of your friends, quickly making your way towards them, Hobi spotting you as well.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Hobi asks, but just as you’re about to answer, a voice from behind interrupts.

“I caught traffic, and well parking was a bitch,” the voice, all too familiar, sends a feeling of panic through your body because turning to face the owner of said voice, was just as surprising as the scene you walked in on only moments ago.

“Y/N! This is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/N, my roommate I was telling you about,” Hobi shouts over the music, and all you can do is stare at the man in front of you wide eyed. Your mouth slightly agape in shock, while Jungkook on the other hand has a teasing grin on his face, as only the two of you knew what had transpired in the ladies’ restroom. He sticks his hand out for you to shake and you notice the small number of tattoos that cover his hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we got one minute on the clock! Start saying your goodbyes to 2018, and get ready to say hello to 2019!” The DJ shouts excitedly, lowering the music for the countdown that’s about to begin.

“Earth to Y/N?” Hobi says waving his hand in front of you, having left Jungkook with his hand open for quite some time now.

“Oh,” you say, bringing yourself back to reality and shaking his hand in return, but the moment you do he brings you in for a small friendly hug, “What a small world,” he whispers into your ear, winking at you as he pulls away.

Hobi, unaware of how you two originally met, rolls his eyes, “Hey, hey hey, she’s our roommate not some girl you can go messing around with,” Hobi says, “Now come on you two, there’s only 15 seconds left!” gently he shoves the two of you towards your groups of friends who were now wearing their New Year’s props which included giant sunglasses, feathered boa’s, and more.

“In 10, 9, 8 , 7, 6…” everyone begins to scream the numbers of the countdown, 2018 clearly leaving with a bang, “5,4,3!” you suddenly feel an arm wrap over your shoulder, and like in the movies a part of you expected it to be the man you just met, but thankfully enough it was Jimin who was clearly drunk, excited, and in clear need of catching his balance. But of course that didn’t mean someone didn’t have their eyes on you from afar…

“2, 1! Happy New Year!” The fog machine erupts and the strings of golden confetti begin to fall from the club’s ceiling. Cheers to the New Year.

Clutching your stomachs in laughter, the two of you poke fun at the recollection of that fatal first encounter, “I really walked in on you getting,” you heave in such a way that you’re incapable of completing the sentence, genuine laughter filling the air.

“Hey, you were the one who stood there like you’d never seen a—” playfully you push his shoulder before even he gets the chance to finish his own sentence.

“Like what you see?” you exaggeratingly mimic his voice from that night, lowering your voice by several octaves. He cries out in laughter, tears now forming in the corners of his eyes, feeling cringe at his choice of words from a year ago today. Who did he think he was? “The woman didn’t even bother to look up! Clearly you had her enamored in what she was doing!” you tease, and in response he wraps his arms around you in a playful manner, telling you that he didn’t want to hear any more.

“What even happened when I left?” you ask, curious to know the answer considering you only knew what you did afterwards.

“Well I overheard the DJ yell about the countdown so I had to cut it short, and well we exchanged numbers. I mean it wasn’t at all a drunk hookup or anything, I was sober, she was sober. I think I went out with her once afterward, but,” he shrugs his shoulders, “It was just meant to be a one time thing I guess,” he mumbles, shaking his head in slight shame and embarrassment. See a year ago, hookups like that were the norm for him, but a year ago he was also nothing like the person he was now. Was it for the better? He’d like to think so.

Shaking your head, you mumble, “To think our relationship would only get worse,” you stare at him accusingly, “no thanks to you!” He stays silent, not bothering to deny the accusation.

“Hey you didn’t make it any easier!” he huffs, “Do you need help with that? What’s that? I don’t think that should be placed there,” he mocks your questions from that day many months ago, move in day.

“I was just trying to be nice! Make things less awkward, you know?” you feel your cheeks get red, now seeing how pushy you had probably been.

He scoffs, “No you just didn’t want your things invaded with mine,” it was now your turn to stay silent.

“Mm,” you hum.

January 2019.

“I don’t think that should go there,” you whisper to Hobi, watching Jungkook place more of his things around your apartment, secretly hoping it was the last batch.

This had to at least be your 15th complaint today, but what bothered Jungkook more was that not only wouldn’t you tell it to his face, but they’d be said in such a superficial tone. He didn’t care if you were trying to be “nice”, it sounded fake and prissy and he’d prefer it if you could just shut up for one moment. People like you were just so… annoying, and to think he thought you were cute.

“Do you need help?” your voice interrupts his train of thought, your figure now looming over his shoulder, and attempting to look at the content of his cardboard boxes. Harshly, he closes the flaps, momentarily scowling at you before taking a deep breath and putting on his best face.

“No it’s fine, I’m almost done but thank you though,” he says, now his turn to be superficial.

“Oh well just let me know if you need anything,” you smile, as unbeknownst to Jungkook, you really were just this nice of a person. Yeah, things may still be a little awkward on your part because of what happened on New Years Eve, you of course having to pep talk yourself several times in the mirror this morning, but to you it was important you established some kind of friendship with your new roommate. Even if he wasn’t going to be here for long.

“I’m gonna go get us takeout,” Hobi announces, not only tired but hungry from having helped Jungkook carry his stuff upstairs to the apartment floor all day, because out of all days in the year, today the elevator just had to be out of service. “I’ll be back,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and making his way out. Leaving you and Jungkook to yourselves.

An awkward silence fills the living room air, Jungkook currently taking a small break on the long couch, while you sit on the short one, fidgeting with your fingers. Maybe you should make conversation? It wouldn’t hurt right?

“So Jungkook,” you begin nervously, he looks up from his phone and places his attention on you, a stoic expression on his face, “um..”, you mentally scold yourself for not already having a question prepared before speaking, “where are you from?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he scoffs, “Korea?” he says, as if stating the obvious.

Feeling flustered, you reiterate your question, “No I mean like where did you move from, you know…” your voice lowers at the end.

He sighs before responding, his attention now back on his phone, “I was in the states for a while, but I’m originally from Busan.”

Immediately you light up, seeing this as an opportunity to further the conversation, “Oh I have a friend from there, I don’t know if you met him on New Years, but his name is Jimin!” you excitedly ramble, “He was the one with the dirty blonde hair, black turtleneck, sparkly jac—”

“Yeah I know,” Jungkook rudely interrupts, now getting up from the couch and walking towards his new room, “Let me know when Hobi’s back, yeah? I’m freaking starving,” and with that he enters his room and shuts the door, leaving you slightly taken back.

“Will do,” you quietly mumble to yourself, a little hurt to say the least by his cold action. Shrugging it off, you excuse it by assuming he was just grumpy. You were sure that he'd be more open to having conversation after settling his things in.

That night after cleaning a couple of your own things, and eating the food Hobi had brought, you remained in bed and on your laptop, Youtube surfing the rest of the night away. That was of course until you heard the sound of your restroom door opening and closing. Right away you get up, already knowing what transpired, but wanting to see the mess that was most likely made with your own two eyes.

Walking into your restroom, you’re immediately hit with the scent of your strawberry shampoo and lavender body wash mixed in with the foggy steam that was created, a result of an extremely hot shower. The sink, a travesty to look at, was spilled with water all over and you did not even want to get started on the “manly” products that were now side to side with yours behind the mirror’s cabinet. Meanwhile, your hair brush was covered in strands of dark brown hair that clearly weren’t yours. But the final straw? Finding the cap of your $100 dollar serum halfly screwed closed with remnants dripping down the bottle.

Shutting the cabinet, you practically stomp out of your restroom and immediately towards Jungkook’s door. Raising your hand to knock, you take in a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. Maybe Hobi didn’t tell him anything about using your restroom. This was only going to be a one time thing until you cleared it out with him.

Gently, you knock on his door, patiently awaiting his response. You could hear the sound of muffled music playing in the background, meaning it was probably much louder inside the room than out. Raising your hand to knock again, the door swings open just as you’re about to tap against the black wooden door. A shirtless Jungkook with your baby blue towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yes?” he smugly says, your cheeks almost an embarrassing shade of crimson. It’s hard to not look at what’s in front of you, but you manage.

“Oh um—” you fluster your words, “um —” you gulp before finding your words again, “I was hoping Hobi had told you about the bathroom situation…but um..I guess he didn’t so um yeah, my bathroom is only for me to us—”

“He did,” he cuts you off, huffing a small laugh.

“He what?” you asked, unsure of what he was referring to, or at least acting dense about it because you did not want to believe that the shirtless boy in front of you completely disregarded the simple rule he was supposed to follow.

“He told me about the whole bathroom rearrangement, buuuuttt,” he teases, “your restroom has the bigger shower and well add strawberry scented shampoo and lavender body wash into the mix and honestly it was a done deal for me,” he stretches his arms above himself, dramatically yawning, his abdomen stretching out in such a way that the towel on his waist was barely clinging onto its dear life.

“But—But—”

“But what?” he cocks his head to the side, amused by your panicked behavior, “It’s also the closest one to me so,” he shrugs his shoulders, “Well if that’s all you came here for then, goodnight,” he winks at you before turning around and slamming the door once again.

You stand there bewildered by what just happened, your mouth agape in shock. Did that really just happen or? Because if it did then he practically just told you that he didn’t give one single fuck.

Making your way back to your room, you’re unsure on how to feel about everything that just happened because sure you’ve encountered your fair share of rude people before but to live with one was a completely different story. And Jungkook wasn’t only rude, he was the smug kind, the “I know I’m good looking, so I can treat anyone the way I want to because my good looks will let me get away with it,” type of rude. Was it a little specific? Yes. But it’s true. Honestly, it was the type of person you thought only existed in rom-coms but clearly they exist in real life. Jungkook being a prime example of such an attitude.

“Just a couple of months,” you breathe out, throwing yourself onto your bed in exasperation, “until he gets settled down in Seoul,” you repeat Hobi’s words from New Years Eve to yourself, sighing before allowing slumber to sweep over you.

“So much for a couple of months,” you tease Jungkook, nudging his shoulder a little bit because a year later and he was still your roommate, and ironically it was you and Hobi who practically begged him to stay.

He scrunches his nose, “ I don’t see you complaining.”

You raise your hands in defense, “I’m just kiddinnn,” you sing, “What would I do without your buttermilk pancakes huh?” you grin at him, his eyes rolling playfully in return.

“Is that all you want from me? Pancakes!” he chuckles, “Ah I should’ve known,” he shakes his head. The two of you giggle at each other’s banter, his high pitched laugh truly infectious.

“What do you think y/n and Jungkook from the beginning of 2019 would think of this scene right now?” you ask, knowing the answer.

Jungkook ponders at the question for a moment before letting out a deep breath and answering, “Mm I think they’d have a hard time believing what’s in front of them, at least I would. I think you would be happy to see that your goal in becoming friends with your new roommate worked out just fine. It just took a bit of time was all…”

February 2019.

To say that you were struggling to live with Jungkook would probably be the biggest understatement of the year. From the constant use of your things without permission, to the blatant rude remarks he’d constantly throw at you, to the days where he’d be completely cold to you and the rest of the world, and don’t even let you get started on the constant women he’d bring over. You’d have to invest in some ear plugs soon if it kept going at the rate it was because at this point you knew Jungkook liked it um … rough … so to speak.

You found yourself asking Hobi, “Has he settled down yet?” wayyyy too often. Sometimes it felt like Jungkook was purposely baiting you to stoop to his level, like as if he was itching to play a game of cat and mouse. And so for you to continuously suck it up and put on a fake smile for him, only made him do more things to bother you.

He was like a mosquito pestering you at the back of your neck. He wouldn’t stop until he got his fangs, or whatever it was that mosquitos used to bite, into you. For what reason? You truly did not know, for you have been nothing but nice to him since the day he moved in.

You often wondered how Hobi could put up with it, you mean Jungkook wasn’t exactly mean to Hobi, but he did throw remarks and eye rolls here and there. The best way to describe it was that Jungkook was treating you two like punching bags, and a part of you wanted to know why? Not only why, but where? Where is Jungkook from? Why was he in the states? What made him come back? Why can’t he go back to Busan? Does he have family? How does Hobi even know the dude? Why does Jungkook wake up with a stick up his ass every morning? Why was Jungkook angry at the world and when did he decide that he was going to take it out on you two, especially you. Honestly you were unsure if you’d ever get answers to your questions, but it wouldn’t matter in a couple of weeks when he was gone, right?

Luckily though the only times you really did see Jungkook was on weekends, and even then if you weren’t out doing some nightly festivities then he was. Or while you went grocery shopping he was working out or something, Not to mention that weekdays you worked AM shifts at your job while Jungkook, who had been hooked up with a job at one of the coffee shop’s Hobi managed, worked afternoon to night shifts.

This meant that whenever you were going to work, Jungkook was catching up on his sleep and vice versa. But occasionally when you two did bump paths, let’s say going to your restroom, he definitely used those opportunities to try and get under your skin. Each and every time, failing to do so.

But today something was different. You weren’t sure if it was because as you were driving to work, coffee spilled onto your shirt at a speed bump because someone stole your favorite coffee thermo which had a securable lid. This then caused you to be 30 minutes late which then resulted in you receiving your first ever official warning. Or maybe it was because you had to not only stay an extra 30 minutes, but an extra hour because someone’s late night hook up the night prior kept you up and completely unfocused. You personally had chosen to go to sleep than stay up and listen to some girl screaming about how much deeper she wanted it while trying to type up your monthly report. And then of course who could forget the cherry on top? Coming back home to that same certain someone, and having to deal with the accusations that you stole his banana milk.

“I didn’t steal anything,” you mumble, warming up the japchae Hobi had left for you on the stove. Jungkook gets up and opens the fridge door, dramatically showing you the empty spot where his banana milk was usually at.

“Well someone did, and Hobi says it wasn’t him and well I trust Hobi so,” Jungkook shrugs, looking at you with a deadpan look on his face. Sadly, Hobi probably asleep already, tired from what you assumed was a long day of work and the thing about Hobi was once he went to sleep there was no waking him up. That boy could sleep through the world ending, “I don’t exactly think it’s beneath you to steal my things…” he says, each one of his words dripping with venom.

You?! Stealing his things?! When he’s the one who's been taking your things left and right?? If he had caught you on any other day, you probably would’ve shrugged his accusations off, hell you might’ve even taken the blame and offer to buy him a new pack. But right now, you could feel your blood almost boiling. How dare he!

“I,” your voice rises, completely ready to go off on the boy, until you hear a door slam, Hobi coming out completely groggy and clearly annoyed.

“Will you two just,” his voice is heavy, sighing in frustration, “Y/N just go and eat in your room,” he says, feeling like a parent to two fighting siblings.

“But—” you’re about to fight your case, until Hobi interrupts.

“Y/N…” he looks at you in despair, his tone a clear indicator that he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t annoyed, he was just tired. You grab your food from the stove, having to pass by Jungkook as you leave the kitchen.

“Was little miss saccharine finally going to pop?” he scoffs, the two of you momentarily having a stare down, until quickly you compose yourself, the fake smile he knew all too well back on your face.

“Goodnight Jungkook,” you say, before making your way back into your room, peeved that Hobi scolded you and not Jungkook, that was until you heard the sound of muffled voices through your closed door.

If you wanted to get a better listen you were going to have to crack open the door without making a single sound, something that would be embarrassing if you managed to fail. Deciding that you were too nosy for your own good, you thankfully succeed in doing so, their voices sounding much clearer to your ears.

“You know she’s having a bad day, and yet—” you hear the sound of Hobi flapping his arms in despair, “and yet you still make her your target of the day,” he says.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, his voice telling you that he was ready to go on the defense.

“Jungkook let’s not act dense,” Hobi says, “What are we in preschool? You have some crush, and think being mean will get you your way with her?” Hobi accuses, which Jungkook immediately denies.

“She wishes,” he mumbles in return, “I treat her like I treat everyone,” he clarifies, almost sounding proud.

“No you treat her worse,” Hobi adds, “if you’re not giving her some backhanded compliment then you’re completely giving her the cold shoulder. I probably only get half of what she does, and even I’m getting fed up with it, so I could only imagine how she feels,” he sighs, “but Y/N is a very very nice person, and since that first day I met her in till even today, I have never seen her get mad at anyone, but you my friend are,” he pauses, trying to think of the best way to describe it, “well you’re pushing buttons that I’ve never seen pushed.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Yeah because her whole act of “I’m miss goody two shoes and can never even hurt a fly” act is such bullshit,” he drops his air quotes, “a grown ass woman acting like telling someone off will add some kind of dent to the image I’m sure has taken her a very long time to build.”

With every word he says, you could feel your stomach drop further and further down. The lump in your throat desperate to be let out. “She probably has you and the rest of the world fooled, but I can see right through it. It’s people like her who will lie to your face, and tell you everything you want to hear because they don’t want to be painted out as some bad guy. And let me tell you people like that are much worse than me because at least I have the balls to tell it like it is to someone’s face rather than protect my own ego, ” he finishes his rant, the veins on his neck faintly popping.

Hobi remains silent for a moment, taking in everything Jungkook said, then pushing his hair back with his hand, an indicator that he was stressed, “Look man, I’m letting you stay here so you can get back on your feet, and because you didn’t want go back to Busan,” he sighs, knowing he’s stepping on broken glass, “I don’t know what happened over there in the states, and I’m not gonna ask about it because I’m sure you’ll talk about it the day you’re ready to,” he pauses, “But what I do know is that you’re right, Y/N does fake her persona from time to time…” you feel your heart drop, while Jungkook’s face goes smug. That is until Hobi continued with what he was saying, “But the same way I’m not gonna ask you about why you came back to Korea a completely cold person, I’m not gonna question why she acts the way it does, especially because it's not hurting anyone.”

“Of course you wo—”

Hobi cuts him off before he can continue, “Let me finish,” he sternly says, his brows knitted, “But as long she keeps letting her feelings build up the way I’m assuming they are, and you keep acting the way you are now then—” he sighs, “There’s going to be a day where the water in the pot is going to boil over and well I don’t wanna be here when it happens,” his presses his lips together, shaking his head at the mere idea, “All I ask for Jungkook is that you try to be a little nicer to her, just for once. I think the two of you would actually be pleasantly surprised at how much in common you have,” Jungkook tries his best to bite his tongue, seeing just how tired his friend looked, “Maybe not even nice to her, just decent. Can you do me that favor?”

Jungkooks lets out a huff of air before silently nodding his head yes, Hobi giving him a small smile in return, “Thanks Jungkook, now I can actually go to sleep instead of hearing you two bicker,” he says before tapping on his shoulder and going back into his room. You, on the other hand, quickly wipe any droplets that fall from your eyes, closing the door before Hobi could notice the crack that was there.

Jungkook sits in the kitchen chair for a while, reflecting on the lecture Hobi just gave him. Hating that the feeling of guilt was beginning to seep in because unlike Hobi, before his little lecture, Jungkook knew that there had been a pair of ears listening in and he knew you could hear every word that came out of his mouth as your little attempt to crack open the door wasn’t as slick as you thought it was ….he just hadn’t cared.

“Just be decent,” Jungkook whispers to himself before turning off the kitchen lights and heading to bed. The two of you lying in your own beds at night, a lot on each other's mind.

“And to think Hobi ended up predicting everything that was going to happen,” Jungkook shakes his head, remembering his friend’s warning to him.

“That’s our Hobi,” you laugh, “always one step ahead, well when he wants to be of course,” you add, a small chuckle coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in response.

“You think he knew what he was doing the whole time?” Jungkook asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Like in terms of allowing everything to play out, you know? Because if he wanted to he could’ve kicked me out from the beginning…” you ponder on his question for a bit, thinking back to Hobi’s role in this whole tale.

“Mm I think he knew but was probably unsure the whole time, you know? Unsure if things would work out the way he set em up to be, I don’t know if he’ll ever tell us but…” you pause, “I think he knew what he was doing from the moment he told you that you could live with us, and I definitely think it was bullshit on his part when he said that he didn’t know what happened to you in the states,” you laugh because you could picture Hobi doing his own research on Google late at night, “So I guess he just knew that there were two people in his life in desperate need of a…” you look for the right word to describe it.

“Reality check?” Jungkook fills in for you, but you shake your head no.

“Mm,” you hum, “No, I dont think thats the way to put it, hmm, how about this…” you pause one last time before continuing, wanting to make sure you said everything correctly, “Hobi had two pieces to a puzzle that needed to connect together in order to complete said puzzle, but after lots of tosses and turns in their box well the two pieces just didn’t fit together anymore. In fact they refused to even try and fit with another, deciding that they were going to live with their new flaps and dents, and ignoring the fact that in order to complete the puzzle they needed to come together,” you let out a small laugh, “and so Hobi took a gamble, and decided to leave the pieces alone for the time being, in hopes that maybe, just maybe with a little bit more tosses and turns they’d realize that by coming together they’d be left with nothing but a beautiful image to show,” a warm smile appears on your face, “Yeah I think I like how that sounds, what do you think?” you turn to face Jungkook who was staring at you with his doe-eyed expression, completely speechless.

“Or was I too wordy?” you laugh, “I reached didn’t I?” you begin to ramble, “Ah I really need to—” suddenly you feel a cold finger pressed against your lips, Jungkook sounding a tiny “shh” soon after.

“I think it was perfect,” Jungkook softly whispers, what could only be described as a loving smile on his face. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, feeling your cold face get warmed up due to the heat that was rising from your cheeks. Reminding you of a memory from only months ago…

March 2019.

“Remind me why I’m going again?” you walk out of the hallway and into the living room, heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“Because you are tonight’s designated driver,” Hobi reminds you, “and well we all don’t fit in Seokjin’s mini cooper so there’s that,” he laughs. You sigh in return, looking at your reflection for the 100th time tonight. “Jungkook, you almost ready?” Hobi shouts from the living room, not keen on his friend’s habit of always getting ready at the last minute.

Tonight was one of, if not the only, rare occasions that both you and Jungkook would be at an outing together, and even then Hobi was always with you two, acting as the facilitator. Jungkook and you usually parted your separate ways the moment you’d arrive somewhere, especially at parties. And so today you didn’t really expect anything different.

It had been about a month since Hobi’s little lecture to Jungkook, and in a way it did have some kind of positive effect on Jungkook. These days he was now much more quiet and reserved, and honestly you preferred the cold shoulder over the constant attitude so you were definitely not complaining.

You were even surprised this morning when you found your bathroom products to be completely replaced by new bottles, including your serum! Of course they had been slightly used, meaning Jungkook wasn’t going to let go of his grip on them just yet, but at least it meant that he had the decency to realize that if he was going to be using them all the time, then it was only right that he occasionally paid for them.

Even last week when you heard him mumble a small, “that was good, thank you,” after making gyeran-mari’s for breakfast, you had to look at Hobi for confirmation that it really happened. Hell, he had even stopped constantly bringing women over, instead beginning to work out more often as you would now hear his grunts come from doing sit ups than from doing um… yeah. It looked like he even had a knack for boxing because you soon noticed how he’d come back home with hands wrapped in bandages or his gloves stringing along his duffel bag. Honestly, it was a little hot, but you’d rather die before admitting that to anyone.

“Ah I’m done, I’m done,” a voice comes out the hallway, Jungkook balancing on his right foot in a rush to put on his left shoe. Tonight he was dressed a little differently than his usual self, replacing his usual black attire and black combat boots for a more club friendly look of ripped blue jeans, black ankle boots, and a black fitted t-shirt. Of course not straying too far from his personal style. The new tattoo he had gotten recently was also in clear view tonight, his sleeve coming along quite nice in your opinion. He had recently even gotten his hair permed, allowing it to grow out longer than what you were used to seeing. It was crazy what a difference hair could make because it definitely made him look … better, in your eyes at least.

All this change on his part, honestly made you feel a little dull, but that’d be something to dwell on for another day. For now, you just wanted to get tonight over with. The faster you got there, the quicker you could leave, and the earlier you could be in bed.

“You took a whole ass hour for this?” Hobi eyes Jungkook up and down. Jungkook is quick to shoot him an offended look, while you on the other hand are struggling to suppress a laugh, “I’m not saying you look bad, in fact you look amazing, but this should not take you an hour!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, combing a hand through his hair.

“Are we going to get going or what?” he says, his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

Once you all arrived, you were quick to meet up with the rest of your friends, everyone having pitched in for bottle service. Jungkook, who had become pretty cool with the rest of everyone, sat between Yoongi and Namjoon, all three of them laughing at God knows what. The bottle they had bought almost halfway done.

You on the other hand, were just watching everyone, the only person besides yourself who wasn’t drunk was Seokjin, and even then he was too busy with his new girlfriend to pay you any attention. Not that you really minded considering she really was a kind person and well who could blame Seokjin for being head over heels. They even shared the same humor, something that was quite rare to find.

You weren’t sure if it was because tonight the club seemed extra packed, or maybe the dress you were wearing was feeling a little too tight or maybe it was the stench of all alcohol getting to you but something definitely fell off. And you did not like it one bit.

“Hey I’m gonna go out back and get some fresh air outside,” you tell Hobi over the music, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement, the boy was clearly very drunk. The moment you stepped out, you definitely did feel better, the crispy fresh air outside almost making you feel as if you were breathing for the first time. That was until you heard the sound of someone arguing.

“I saw you dancing with her! Stop trying to gaslight me into thinking you weren’t!” a woman screams, very much in distress by who you assumed was her boyfriend, “God, I knew I should’ve listened to my mom, you are a pig! And I deserve a man who's going to—

“What did you just say?” he grabs her by the arm, his atrocious grip surely going to cause her a bruise later on.

“Let go of me!” she cries, as he then grabs her by the hair, ready to toss her to the floor and do whatever else he wanted to do with her. You feel your breathing become heavier, watching the scene unfold in front of you, unsure of what to do. You were scared and you didn’t know how to defend yourself, let alone someone else. But you also knew that God forbid you were ever in that situation, you wouldn't want someone turning a blind eye on you, so you did what was only right.

“Hey!” you scream while walking towards the couple, catching the man’s attention, “Let go of her before I—”

“Before you what?” he lets go of her hair, now walking towards you as well. The woman watches you with shaky eyes, having never guessed that her savior would be a woman in black string heels and a face that for the most part was not at all intimidating.

You reach into your purse, hoping to get a feel for either your taser or pocket knife, but of course, of fucking course, on all days of the year it was no where to be found. Nonetheless, you muster up your courage and respond, “Before I call security,” you say, trying your best to sound confident.

He laughs, dramatically looking around to show you that no one around was here to help, “Anyone ever teach you to mind your fucking business, like how a woman should,” you gulp, almost losing balance while taking a step back as he only gets closer, “Huh?! Anyone every fucking teach you that?” he closes in on you, your back soon hitting the wall that was behind you.

“Just leave her alone!” the woman screams in hysteria.

“You stay the fuck out of it! You’re the whole reason she’s in this mess,” he mutters, his words completely slurred and his breath reeking like alcohol. You almost feel like vomiting at the accidental whiff you take because wow was this man just disgusting.

“See maybe if you would’ve just gone about your day, you wouldn’t be here right now,” he makes a ticking sound with his mouth, mocking you, “but” he sighs, “I guess whores just have to stick with each other, huh?” he grabs you by the scalp of your hair, this time not hesitating to throw you to the ground.

“Oh my—” the woman screams, panic flowing through her veins.

“Go!” you yell at her, giving her the chance to escape even if it meant sacrificing your own wellbeing. She hesitates for a moment before running, the sound of her heels tapping against the pavement was one of the last things you could hear before the ringing in your ears became all too much.

You look at your hands for a moment, the stinging feeling almost unbearable as they had taken most of the impact of the fall, along with your knees. A part of you hoped he had left, that he had somehow magically disappeared or that you’d wake up to find that this was nothing more than a nightmare. But it wasn’t until you felt the grip of his hand on your hair again, that you’d come to realize the reality of your situation and that there was absolutely no one to help you.

The man lifts up his free hand, building power for the punch he was preparing to throw, as you could only throw your arms in front yourself in an attempt to minimize the impact of the punch. By now tears were falling from freely your eyes, small whimpers and sniffles coming out of fear. The final words you hear being spat from his mouth were, “you stupid bitch,” and in your head you count to three, waiting for the feeling of his fist against your face. But it never came.

Instead you feel the release of his hand on your scalp, and when you open your eyes you find him on the ground, not completely knocked out but he might as well be with just how out of it he looked. And though you weren’t drunk, you almost felt as if you were because absolutely everything around you was overlapping, hardly able to see anything in clear focus. But what you could make out was that there was a figure, and by the build you assume was a man, now sitting over the drunkard, throwing several punches at him. His goal was either to knock the man out or make sure he suffered every way possible before knocking him out.

You stand there for a moment in shock as you hear the person’s voice, a voice that was all too familiar, “I dare you to fucking lay a hand on her again, I fucking dare you!” Jungkook yells, throwing another punch at the man, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” slowly your vision becomes clearer as you wipe away the tears that had been blocking your vision, and soon you realize if Jungkook kept going at the rate he was, the man was going to be killed.

Quickly you run towards Jungkook, attempting to grab his right arm before he swings again, “Jungkook stop!” you yell, but instead he pushes your arm away, too caught up in his rage to think straight. The drunk man looked as if he was barely holding on, blood now all over his face. “I said stop!” you yell at the top of your lungs, the veins on your neck popping. Jungkook, panting, looks up at you, momentarily stopping. “Just stop,” you cry, wanting this nightmare to be over.

Jungkook looks at the barely conscious man one more time, pulling him by the collar of his shirt so that he’d get a good look of him, “If I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to—”

“Jungkook,” you stop him from finishing his sentence.

He sighs, “Just be glad she’s here because scum like you deserve to fucking rot,” he says, letting go of the man’s collar and allowing his head to hit the pavement. He gets up from his position and begins to pat his black shirt of any dirt, catching his breath along the way. “You okay?” he asks, intensely staring at you.

But before you could respond, a voice screams, “Hey!” the two of you look up at said voice, only to find a security guard with a flashlight in his hand and his walky talky on the other.

Jungkook quickly grabs you by the hand, causing you to wince at the sudden touch, “Come on,” he says, pulling you to follow him.

He leads you back to the parking lot, confusion evidently on your face. It wasn’t until you turned back to find several security guards following after you that everything began to click together, panic now flowing through your veins. Hurriedly, you grab Hobi’s keys from your purse and unlock the door, your heart beating out of your chest.

Jungkook quickly hops in the passenger seat, his head throbbing from the amount of drinks he’s had, watching as you struggle to put the key in the ignition, clearly in a state of anxiousness. He yanks the keys from your hands and places them in himself, “Now drive!” he shouts, causing you to step ferociously on the gas pedal. Burning tire as you race off the parking lot.

“God my head is fucking killing me,” Jungkook complains, his blood stained hands resting on his temple. By now the two of you were heading back home, Jungkook having texted Hobi through your phone that he was going to have to get a ride from Seokjin. For the situation you two were just in had required an immediate escape.

You on the other hand were driving in complete silence, still in a state of shock of what just happened. Jungkook having to constantly remind you that you were driving, several instances of you zoning out at a stop light happening way too often for his liking.

“I am way too drunk for this shit,” he mutters under his breath, the reality of what just happened beginning to kick in. The queasy feeling in his stomach became more and more unbearable with every turn you took. And don’t even get him started on his throat, which was currently as dry as the Sahara Desert. “Is there some kind of water in this car?” he asks, beginning to look through the car console and glove compartment.

“I don’t,” you pause and sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Then pull over here,” he deadpans.

You furrow your brows in confusion, “What?”

“Pull over,” he repeats, his patience running out.

Not questioning him a second time, you do exactly that, pulling over at the side of some park near your apartment. Jungkook takes in a deep breath before opening the door and sticking his head out, seconds later the sound of him vomiting making you feel as queasy as he did.

“Oh God,” you mumble to yourself, just wanting to be in bed already. But of course that wasn’t going to happen because soon enough Jungkook was getting out of the car and going to God knows where. “Where are you going?” you shout, as he walks towards the park.

“I need water,” he says, “You coming or what?” you contemplate on whether to follow him or not, before ultimately exiting the car and locking it. With the way he was stumbling his footsteps, it was better safe than sorry to follow him.

“BogoShipda!” Jungkook sings loudly to the trees in the park, all of the alcohol he drank at the club still running through his system. You stare at him in surprise, having never seen him act like this before, as he continues to sing.

“Now where’s a water fountain when you need one,” he mumbles, the darkness of the night sky making it hard for him to scan his surrounding area. You found yourself feeling a little scared in fact. The silhouette of the trees and the sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches only making the atmosphere more scary.

“Ah there it is!” Jungkook slurs his words, sounding like a kid at a carnival. Once he’s in front of the fountain, he pushes against the button, the water sprouting out of the fountainhead. You stare at him in silence as he hadn’t crouched down to drink yet, thus confusing you.

It wasn’t until you felt a tug at your hand and the sting of the water hitting against your scrapes that you felt like punching him. “What are you doing?” you ask, trying your best not to sound too peeved.

He looks at you before rolling his eyes, “What do you think I’m doing? I’m cleaning your hands,” he signals for you to give him your other hand, and without thinking you comply.

“I could’ve done this at home,” you say.

“I know, but the longer we wait the higher chance it'll end up getting infected by dirt so,” he looks at you with a know it all expression, and you mumble a small “I guess,” under your breath, the stinging sensation soon enough replaced by a cool one, your hands no longer feeling as rusty.

It isn’t until he’s finished that he takes a sip of water, exhaling a small “ahh” sound after downing several gulps. “Come on,” he grabs your hand again, leading you to a park bench with a small lamppost right next to it, providing a smooth yellow dim light.

“Why are we—”

“I just want to sit for a moment without the movement of a car, just for a bit,” he exhales a heavy breath, manspreading on the bench and throwing his head back, “just for a bit,” he repeats, his voice soft.

The two of you sit there in silence, “Why are you staring at me?” he asks with his eyes closed, feeling your intense stare.

“I’m not—I’m not staring,” you stutter, he hums in response. Silence fills the air again, until Jungkook mumbles something that at first is inaudible.

“What?” you ask.

“I said I’m ˢᵒʳʳʸ,” you look at him confused, were you hearing him correctly?

“Wait what?” you ask again, it wasn’t your intention to come off as pushy nor pretentious but you were just seriously surprised as to what you were hearing.

He grumbles before repeating himself, “I said,” he drops his shoulders, “I said I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes to look at you, his usual smug behavior nowhere to be found on his face, he was being completely serious.

“Oh…” you pause for a moment before continuing, “Can I ask for what? I’m not trying to be mean or anything or act dense. I seriously just don’t know why,” you make sure you add those claims at the end, feeling as if you were walking on eggshells.

He looks at you momentarily before placing his view on the trees in front of you, “For not getting there earlier,” he mutters, as if disappointed with himself, “I went out because Hobi had told me to go check up on you, but,” he stays silent for a moment before continuing, clenching his jaw, “at first I sorta shrugged him off when he asked me, it wasn’t until he asked me second time that I actually went outside,” his voice shakes a bit and you notice that his eyes become slightly glossy, “and then a woman came running up to me rambling about someone about to get beaten up, but the last person I thought she was talking about was you,” he exhales loudly before continuing, trying his best to maintain his composure, “but either way I ran towards wherever she was pointing at, and that’s when I saw you on the floor,” his voice cracks, “and I just keep replaying everything in my head, and I just—” he closes his eyes and shakes his head, “I’m just sorry and I felt like you deserved to know that,” he concludes, a tear falling from his face.

And maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe he just really did feel bad, but to see Jungkook this vulnerable was different to say the least. It was almost humanizing in some aspects.

Jungkook expected you to scream at him, to tell him that it was his fault you were put in that situation. That he could’ve prevented it from happening, that because of him you almost got beat to a bloody pulp.

No, in fact he doesn't expect you to, he wants you to. It’s what he deserves to hear from you. Had it not been for him and his ego, he would’ve gone out there the moment Hobi had asked him to, and you would’ve never had to deal with that drunk excuse of a human being to begin with. Or was the alcohol in his system just seriously getting to him because God did he feel sick.

“Jungkook it’s not your fault,” you begin, but Jungkook who's still looking at the trees, refuses to make eye contact. “Hey look at me,” you demand, tugging his hand in an effort to get him to look at you. When he does so, you continue, “That man was going to attack me whether you came or not because a weak man like that will attack the easiest target,” you state, a small chuckle escaping your lips, “It was no one’s fault but his, you hear me?” you squeeze his hand, “Not yours, not mine, not Hobi’s, not the lady, no one. Absolutely no one.”

More tears begin to fall from his bloodshot eyes, “You don’t get it y/n,” he shakes his head, “You don’t what that man could’ve done to you in that time I wasn’t there, you could’ve been killed for God’s sake,” he attempts to say it firmly, but his voice betrays him by whimpering in the end.

“But he didn’t!” you say, and without thinking you place his hand on your cheek, “I’m right here look! All because of you! Yeah you didn’t get there as early as you wished you could’ve, but you got there nonetheless! And if you hadn’t I probably would be sporting a big old black eye on my face and have one cheek bigger than the other right now. I’d look like one of those chipmunks from Alvin and the Chipmunks!” you laugh at your own joke, and for the first time ever, Jungkook laughs with you. His last first starting off as a small chuckle but the harder you laughed, the harder he did. The beginning to what would be you always hearing his high pitched laugh around the apartment, but let’s not get too far ahead right now.

They say when a human is drunk, they muster up the courage to do something they’d never do sober, but have always thought of doing in the back of their mind. It was often why people would blame a bold text to an ex on being “drunk” despite not taking one sip of their tequila shot, or why some people would excuse cheating on being “drunk” despite knowing it was something they wanted to do for a very long time. They were looking for an excuse to finally do it. And so now sitting here, with his hand caressed across your face, goofy grins plastered on your faces, he felt tempted to just kiss you.

It was weird really, yeah he thought you were cute, in fact there were days he’d found you hot, but anything past physical attraction had never really crossed his mind. To him, you’d always been and currently were his roommate who he found both superficial and performative.

The one who once attempted to hide her strawberry scented shampoo in her room during work, in hopes that he wouldn’t go out of his way to find it. The one who liked her jjolmyeon more on the sour side than the sweet. The one who occasionally made him coffee and breakfast in the mornings, despite him being asleep after a long night of work of barristering. The one who for some odd reason almost never watched Netflix on the TV, but instead would watch it on her laptop on the couch, thus rendering the TV completely useless.

And so to be here, finally appreciating the person that you were after what could’ve been a near-death experience was a bit of a wake up call. And yeah like you said, maybe he didn’t get here as early as he should’ve been, but he got here nonetheless. He smiles to himself, your words having a double meaning behind them.

But for now he wanted to preserve this feeling, because he knew he was drunk. He was so drunk that the tree behind you was beginning to look like it was moving towards him. And so rather than kiss you, he instead decides to simply tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, deciding that if he felt like this tomorrow morning when he was sober then it’d be something worth looking into.

“I’m telling you, if I ever see that man again—”

“It was like,” you count on your fingers, “9 months ago Jungkook, I doubt you even remember his face,” you cut off, patting his shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, “you’d be surprised how good I am at remembering faces, so when I tell you I’m still waiting for the day I come across him again, I mean it!” you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you sing, “Hey at least something good came out of it,” you smile.

Jungkook looks at you with uncertainty, “Which is?”

Your small smile then becomes a toothy grin, “We became friends!” you exclaim excitedly, “temporarily at least,” you laugh.

April 2019.

It had been about two weeks since the incident at the club. Jungkook having completely avoided you since, and no you weren’t paranoid because originally you thought you were. It first started off with you not seeing him at all around the apartment, which you excused with you two having different work schedules like always. But then you’d notice he wouldn’t even drink the coffee you would make for him in the morning, it being left there on the counter for the entire day.

And in the very rare moments you did manage to get a glimpse of him in the hallway either entering or exiting his room, the boy would completely avoid eye contact with you! But the final confirmation that told you he was avoiding you? He had bought his own shampoo and body wash for himself! Not just any kind, he bought an extra lather version of your own with exfoliating properties. And you didn’t if you could use it or not because, well because he was avoiding you!

It wasn’t like you two kissed or anything! The most that happened was that you two shared a laugh! So then why was he avoiding you like the freaking plague? After a week of thinking about every possible reason he could be, you had given up. You’d accepted that you were back at square one with him, but it wasn’t like you were ever at square two to begin with. And so that’s why yesterday when Hobi told you he’d be going on a morning/afternoon hike trip on Saturday with Namjoon, you were skeptical on how Jungkook would manage to avoid you.

It was also why this morning in bed, when you heard what sounded like furniture being moved at 7 in the freaking morning, you were unsure about getting up and saying something or remaining in bed. Luckily you didn’t have to think about it for too long because you soon heard the sound footsteps coming closer to your bedroom door. As a result, you quickly threw yourself under the covers and pretended to be asleep.

It definitely had to be Jungkook who had just entered your room, the heavy footsteps acting as a signal to you that it was. Your eyes widen when you hear the sound of your drawer being pulled open, “What the hell did he think he was doing? Should you turn around and scare him? Hmm. No,” you think to yourself because soon enough you felt a hand gently shake your body.

“Y/N,” he whispers, clearly in belief that you were asleep. You let him shake you around a little more, just to make your little “I’m just waking up” act a little more believable, “Y/N,” he repeats, and this time you begin to make groggy sounds. Actress of the Year Award : Check.

“Mm,” you hum, but you’re quickly jolted awake when you feel your covers get pulled off of you, “What are you—” you look up at Jungkook, who was dressed in complete workout gear. But what really had you concerned, was the workout clothing he had folded in his hands because well they were yours.

He tosses the matching pair of black leggings and sports bra, “Go change,” he sternly says, only causing you to look at him in further confusion.

“B-b-but-” Jungkook knows you’re about to not only complain, but ask many many questions. Because that’s just the type of person you are.

“Hobi told me you like buttermilk pancakes with extra syrup, but that since yours always come out burnt and his come out too dull, that the only time you get to eat them is if you go to a breakfast restaurant,” you narrow your eyes at him, confused as to where this was leading to, “Well at the coffee shop I work at, we have a weekly Pancake Tuesday and well let’s just say a certain someone has been rated top pancake maker for 2 months now,” you quirk your brow in interest, continuing to listen, a smirk now on his face, “and let’s also say this certain someone has a stack of warm pancakes sitting there on the kitchen island, untouched and certainly uneaten.”

You quickly smile at what he was insinuating, “BUT you can only eat them if you get up, get ready and change in 5 minutes,” he looks at the clock, “starting now.” And in the blink of an eye you were up and running towards your restroom because certainly if that didn’t get you up and out of bed, he wasn’t sure what would.

Quickly you brush your teeth and fix up your hair a bit, curious to know what Jungkook had planned out. To think you thought he was avoiding you! Well he was … but that doesn’t matter anymore! Placing your shoes on you begin to make your way towards the living room, the thought of eating those buttermilk pancakes almost making your mouth drool. That was until you stepped into the living room, stopping dead in your tracks.

Your eyes glaze over everything, blinking veryyy slowly, in order to make sure you were seeing things correctly. Jungkook had transformed your living room into some kind of um … workout center? For boxing? He had everything from the red punching bag, the reflex bag, the speed ball, jump rope, mini dumbbells, and most importantly boxing mitts for some one-on-one training. Everything was an adequate enough size to fit in all into the living room, but not too big in a way that it couldn’t be stored in the extra closet you had in the hallway.

“Why did you—” Jungkook hands you a pair of shiny black boxing gloves, along with bandages.

“I’m going to teach you the basics of boxing,” he presses his lips together, “whether you like it or not,” he says.

“Jungkook I don’t thin—”

“You don’t think what?” he looks at you in a way that tells you he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m not really cut out for this kind of stuff,” you try to make an excuse for yourself anyway, but he wasn’t buying it.

“Because you have no experience, which is exactly why I’m going to teach you,” his brows draw together, a stern look on his face as he now makes eye contact with you, “You can’t just always expect someone to pop out of thin air and come to your rescue y/n, what happened two weeks ago was a mix of both good timing and sheer luck,” he sighs while pulling out a taser and pocket knife from his pocket, “and though this is helpful in many situations, you seem to forget to take these with you,” he scolds, “guess where they were the night at the club?” You stay silent, “the kitchen island,” he answers for you.

“Okay I get it, I get it,” you say, “I need to learn how to protect myself without using those,” you point to the items in his hand.

“Exactly, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he playfully pats your head, “so we’ll be doing this every weekend for the next eight weeks, from 7AM till 2PM. We might even throw an occasional weekday night in there if I don’t get out of work too late.”

“7AM?!” you shriek, “Oh no no no, you sir are crazy,” you protest, shaking your head in denial, “No amount of pancakes will have me waking up that early every weekend.”

“Oh come on! The more hours you do, the better you’ll get!” he bargains with you, catching you off guard by throwing his arm around your shoulder, your cheeks going red as a result.

“Jungkook,” you dramatically cry out, ready to stomp your feet on the floor like a little kid, the only thing preventing you was you not wanting the downstairs neighbors to come up and complain.

He tightens his grip on you, “Come onnnnn,” he sings, “I’ll let you use my new body wash with the exfoliating properties,” he teases you, having heard you complain to Hobi one morning about being unsure of whether or not you could use it. You truly were too kind for your own good, cause if the situations were reversed, Jungkook would’ve just gone ahead and used it.

You narrow your eyes at him once again, “More like you’re buying me one of my own!” you demand and he nods in agreement, “Also, where did you even manage to get all this?” you ask, genuinely curious as to how he managed to buy all this.

“Um let’s just say I have a buddy at the boxing gym who didn’t really need these anymore,” you stare at him suspiciously, but decide to shrug it off. You’d ask him more questions some other day, but for now all you wanted was to eat those pancakes!

Hobi opens the door to his shared apartment, exhausted from the hike he just had this morning and honestly ready to just hop into bed and sleep. That was until he saw the transformation of his living room in front of his very own eyes, his skin paling and mouth gaping in shock.

“What the—” he whispers, preparing to scream out your names like a parent walking in their house only to find it destroyed by their teenagers, but before he could the sound of something stops him dead in his tracks. It was the sound of soft snores.

Walking towards the sound, which seemed to be coming from the long couch, a smile immediately appears on his face when he comes to see the view in front of him. You were on one side of the couch while Jungkook was on the other, both of your feet stretched out and touching in the middle, napping away. Hobi personally thought he was dreaming, this being a view he never thought he’d see.

Wanting to preserve the memory, he grabs his phone from his pocket and opens up the camera app, snapping the photo in silence, tempted to edit and post the photo with little clouds above each other's heads and make up some witty caption. But he’d save it for some other day. For now, he was just happy you two were finally getting along.

“Ah I had forgotten how that photo came to be,” Jungkook laughs, looking at the photo on your Iphone screen, “you were tired from working out, while I was tired from having to watch you continuously mess around with the equipment,” he pokes fun at you. Not like it wasn’t true, that day you kept going back to the speed ball, aimlessly hitting it in hopes that at some point you’d magically become fast at hitting it like in the movies.

“Hey, I’m pretty decent at doing everything now,” you flash him a cheesy smile. After several weeks of consistent training and long hours, you were definitely at a point where you could adequately defend yourself from someone ranging from a small petite woman to around a medium sized man. Luckily, you haven't come across a situation that has required you to to do so nor do you ever hope to, but it was comforting to know that if something ever did happen, then you were ready. But, your taser and pocket knife would always be your first go to, no matter what.

“You’re…” Jungkook pauses, “okay,” he breathes, huffing a quiet laugh. Out of impulse you flash him the finger, showing off your freshly manicured fingers. “Aren’t you rude,” he says with a dramatic gasp.

You roll your eyes, “You’re the one who taught me,” you laugh, and Jungkook places his hand on his chest, looking at you with a dramatic offended look on his face.

“Me?” he feigns his surprise.

“Yes you! How could I forget,” you look at him accusingly.

“No I taught you how to stop faking a smile, and to start putting a foot down people’s neck,” he shrugs, “not to go sticking out the middle finger,” he jokes, and you only roll your eyes again, grumbling a small “Mm.”

May 2019.

To your surprise, you had been managing to consistently wake up and work out every weekend with Jungkook, with him even being able to up your usual workout plan at a drastic rate. You’d shed a couple of pounds and to your surprise could even see some muscle beginning to form, but today, well today was your monthly lazy day.

Lazy day was the one day of the month where you and Hobi would push everything off your schedule, from calling off of work, to making sure everything in the apartment was clean, and buying snacks the night before in order to make sure you wouldn’t have to step out of the apartment. It was usually picked the month before by either you or Hobi closing your eyes and randomly pointing somewhere on the calendar, and whatever day your index finger managed to land on would be the day. And well today was that day.

But when Hobi told you yesterday night that a family emergency was going to have to bring lazy day to a temporary halt because he had to drive back to Busan, which in itself was a three hour trip from Seoul, you had already called the day off weeks prior as your job wasn’t as lenient on last minute call offs. The contract you signed stating in small print, “any day off must be requested, sent in, and approved 2 weeks prior to the date said employee is asking for.”

And so this morning when Jungkook entered your room to find you completely knocked out with drool coming out of your mouth, he was surprised to say the least. On weekday mornings, he would almost always wake up to find himself alone in the apartment considering both you and Hobi have day jobs, so hearing snores come out of your room had definitely caught him off guard.

He debated on whether he should be annoying and wake you up and then force you to work out or be a nice roommate and make you breakfast. Let’s just say he didn’t choose the latter. Grabbing one of the stuffed animals that you weren’t hugging, he throws it at your head, a grunt coming out of your mouth after.

“Jungkook,” you mutter, morning voice in full effect, “let me sleep please,” you say, switching to the other side, in hopes that he’d leave.

“No, you need to work out,” he says, beginning to nag.

Turning around again, this time to face him, you look at him with your eyes half-way open, “Today’s lazy day,” you deadpan, his eyes narrow in confusion.

“What the hell is, quote on quote, lazy day?” he asks, lifting a brow. Rubbing your eyes along with eye boogers in the corners, you begin to stretch your arms and legs, not caring if he was staring.

Sighing once you were ready to respond, you then answer, “Lazy day is the one day of the month that me and Hobi take a day off of work to well … be lazy,” he stares at you with an innocent look on his face, “butttttt,” a mischievous smile appears on your face, “since Hobi cancelled on me, now you’re going to be lazy partner for the day.” His face twists in bewilderment.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, go call the café, and tell em you’re taking the day off,” you smile, now getting up from bed.

“And why would I do that?” Jungkook asks, the question coming off a little harsher than intended, but you were quick to shrug it off, already accustomed to the occasional attitude.

“Becauseeeeee,” you sing, “When was the last time you’ve taken a day off, I mean look at you right now! You’re already dressed comfortably,” you eye him up and down, he was currently in work out clothing which for him consisted of an oversized grey sweater and joggers, “do you really wanna get all sweaty and then have to shower, change, and go to work… cause I don’t think you do,” you raise your eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner as he avoids eye contact with you.

His eyes look around your room, clearly thinking to himself. A lazy day huh? Hmm you did make a point, he really couldn’t remember the last time he’s just lounged around and done nothing, as he was always doing something whether it be working out, working, going out, etc.

He looks back at you once he’s made his decision, letting out a huff of air, “Fine,” he says, grabbing his phone from his pocket, preparing to dial the coffee shop, a tiny squeal coming from you.

“I thought lazy day meant no going out,” Jungkook complains while pushing the grocery cart around, following you and your need to go up and down each and every aisle at the store.

“It does, but since Hobi and I couldn’t go grocery shopping the night before,” you grab some strawberry lemonade from the freezer and place it in the cart, “someone has to help carry the groceries up the stairs,” you catch him rolling his eyes, “your eyes will get stuck up there if you keep doing that,” you comment, grabbing packaged ramen from the counter beside you.

“Yeah, Yeah—” Jungkook stares at what’s in your hands wide eyed, “No, no, no! What are you doing?” You jump in surprise, dropping the package on the floor.

“Wh-what?” your face flushes in surprise, his outburst completely catching you off guard.

“Shin Ramyun?! What happened to getting Paldo Bibimmyeon?! Do you have no loyalty?” he scrunches his face up, in clear distress at what he just caught you doing. At first you don’t think he’s serious, this being some stupid joke he was making, but once you got a glimpse of the stare he was giving you, you’d soon come to realize that he was not playing around at all.

“It’s be-be-because,” you begin to stutter under his scrutiny, “these are buy three, get two free,” you lopsidedly smile, an awkward laugh feigning from your lips. He shakes his head, snatching the ramen from your hands and placing it on its original spot before then grabbing his Paldo Bibimmyeon.

“Choosing price over quality, are you crazy?” he mutters under his breath before pushing the cart past you and making his way to the checkout line, leaving you there momentarily flabbergasted.

Once you caught up to him you were ready to tell him something until you heard the sound of someone calling your name, “Y/N?” you turn around, surprised to see Jimin in the line next to you.

“Oh Jimin!” you smile, softly waving at the newly blonde-haired boy, his roots telling you that the hair job was recent. Jimin offers his hand out to Jungkook. Jungkook, at first hesitant, shakes it in return, “You remember Jimin, right? He was with us on New Years, he was supposed to come partying with us last time, but he flaked last minute,” Jungkook slowly nods remembering the boy wrapping his arm around you during the countdown while Jimin on the other hand raises his hands to his defense.

“Even a person like me can get burnt out every here and then,” he laughs, “but next time I’ll be sure to be on the dance floor,” he winks at you, his natural flirty personality making its appearance. Jungkook awkwardly coughs, pushing the cart forward to get your attention back in the moving line.

You feel your hands get a bit clammy, Jimin always being someone you did have a bit of a crush on, never pursuing anything because of your long-term friendship with him. But of course that didn’t mean he didn’t get an occasional blush out of you here and there. “So how have you been since the last time I saw you? It’s been quite a while—”

And just as you’re about to answer, Jungkook interrupts, “Y/N,” he says, nudging you to tell you that it was time to pay.

“Ah I guess I’ll just see you around then,” Jimin chuckles, waving a small goodbye.

“O-oh yeah I guess I—”

“Y/N,” Jungkook repeats, unbeknownst to you, the green eyed monster was beginning to make its appearance. Any longer and horns would probably start sprouting out his ears.

Once you two finish paying and bagging everything, you walk towards Jungkook’s new black Hyundai which he had bought only a couple of weeks ago after months of what he calls “busting his ass” off and using most of his savings up for. You hum a tiny tune while helping him place all the bags in the trunk.

“So…” Jungkook awkwardly begins, second guessing whether he should continue asking the question he had in his mind before deciding to just do it anyway, “Is that like your boyfriend or something?”

Immediately you stop humming, staring at Jungkook wide-eyed, “Oh no, no!” you quickly deny, “No, No, no,” you repeat, shaking your head. The redness of your cheeks tell another story.

“Hm,” Jungkook mumbles, “sorta looked like it,” he deadpans before going to put the cart in its designated spot, leaving you there confused as to what that meant.

After a couple of hours of lounging around in the apartment and binging Narcos: Mexico on the TV rather than your laptop because of Jungkook’s complaints, the two of you were now eating your ramen on the kitchen island, quietly seated on the tall chairs. The sound of Jungkook slurping his noodles filling the room.

“What did you mean by Jimin being my boyfriend or something?” you suddenly ask out of nowhere, the question having been on your mind for a majority of the day.

Jungkook takes a final gulp of his food before responding, “I don’t know,” he nonchalantly shrugs, “you were gawking at him like a schoolgirl seeing her crush in the hallway,” he says, “thought you two had something going on, or at least on your part,” he reiterates.

“I did not stare at him like some schoolgirl!” you deny, taking offense to his analogy, “He’s j-jus—”

“J-just someone you clearly have a crush on,” he mocks your flusteredness, “I see and here a part of me thought it thought it was two-sided,” he smirks.

“It’s not sided on either way,” you protest, “Jimin is just a friend,” you clarify, putting your foot down.

“How do you even know the dude?” he asks. He knew you and Hobi met during college, and that Hobi was in some club with Yoongi and Namjoon which explains how you met them. He also knew that Seokjin and Taehyung came into the picture after some college frat party, but Jimin, well he didn’t know too much about Jimin. Just that he clearly felt comfortable enough to have his arm around you during New Years.

“I met him during my first year of performing at Busan Arts College, that was before I transferred to Seoul National where I’d then meet Hobi,” Jungkook’s ears perk up, several questions now running through his head.

“An arts college? In Busan?”

“Yeah, like a school for dance majors, drawing, theatre, music, film, modelling, sports, interior design, animation, and et cetera,” you smile softly while explaining, “I was an art major, painting to be specific, and along the scopes of watercolors and abstractness.”

Jungkook hums, his curiosity still not completely fulfilled, “So why’d you transfer?” he asks the big question.

“Oh..” you know you shouldn’t be, but for some reason you are slightly taken back by his blunt question, “because..” you sigh, “um something happened that well um I just thought it’d be best to transfer, and well my math skills weren’t too rusty for the entrance exam and my credits were exceptional for transferring and so I just took the leap and left. Met Hobi, we became roommates, decided to stay roommates even after graduating and well now I’m an accountant.”

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, surprised that there was more to you than meets the eye. He would’ve never guessed that you were into painting, “I stayed in touch with Jimin, introduced him to my new group of friends and well yeah, that’s that,” you finish explaining, “He was a dance major, just in case you were curious,” you add, “He now works at a contemporary dance company here in Seoul, very deep with connections in the arts industry,” So that’s who Jimin was huh? Cool... but now Jungkook was much more curious about you.

“Do you ever paint?” he asks another question, completely finished with his meal and at this point only staying for the conversation. It was weird, had it been anyone else asking you these questions you wouldn't have dared entertain it any further, probably finding some way to maneuver out of it. But for Jungkook to ask whether it be from a place of nosiness or simple curiosity, hell maybe even boredom, for some reason you just didn’t mind.

“Um not really, not anymore at least, especially these days that work is beginning to pile up but,” you hesitate for a moment before continuing, “I still have some of my old work somewhere under my bed, probably in a storage box knowing me.”

“Can I see them?”

And just as you’re about to answer, your phone’s ringing sound goes off. The person calling? Jimin. You hesitate to answer, glancing at Jungkook who was staring at your phone, presumably reading the name. Once he does, he looks at you in a way that was asking, “Are you going to pick up?”

You click the green button to accept, “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, unsure if it was you.

“Yes?”

“Hey! Um so I was actually meaning to call for quite a while,” Jungkook tries his best not to make it obvious that he’s listening in, “and so when I ran into you and your friend at the market it served as a complete reminder.”

“Oh what for?” you ask politely.

“Well I was hoping we could catch up over some dinner, and then I could tell you something very important that I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time,” From Jimin? “I was thinking this Saturday like at 7? I’ll pick you up.”

“Oh um..” for some reason you look at Jungkook for advice, but he just stares at you with his eyebrows furrowed, “Yeah sure, why not?” you awkwardly laugh.

“Perfect, I’ll see you then! Byeeeee,” he sings before clicking, leaving you on the line. Did that call really just happen? Or were just imagining things?

“I think—” you gulp, “I think I have a date this Saturday?” you say unsurely, a small dumbfounded smile beginning to appear on your face.

He notices the goofy smile beginning to appear on your face, before letting out a large exasperated breath and feigning his best smile. The forced smile comes out quite awkward, “With Park Jimin?” Park Jimin your college friend. Park Jimin, the successful contemporary dancer. Park Jimin, the one who looked like he came straight out of a magazine cover. That Park Jimin? Jungkook on the other hand could feel his eyebrow impulsively twitch in response, the green eyed monster creeping from behind, ready to make its return.

You nod your head yes, Jungkook now getting up from the chair, a negative energy now around him. “So much for it being a zero sided thing,” he mutters before practically throwing his dish into the sink and stomping out the kitchen, leaving you completely by yourself.

“Weird,” you think to yourself before heading off to bed.

Saturday had surprisingly arrived in the blink of an eye despite the extra hours of working out Jungkook had thrown in the morning. It was almost as if the boy wanted you to be on your date exhausted and halfway knocked out. Out of nowhere, deciding that today was the best day to start working on more leg targeted exercises, as a result your legs now felt like jell-o with every step you took.

“I’m gonna get going you guys,” you announce to the boys in the living room, who were currently on the couch watching an episode of One Piece.

Hobi turns his attention from the screen to look at you, immediately smiling at your outfit, “Ahh look at you,” he compliments, Jungkook on the other hand or silently watches you as you grab your keys from the countertop. “Doesn’t she look pretty Jungkook?” Hobi asks, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook remains silent, which oddly enough resulted in a heavy feeling in your chest. “Now she’s sad!” Hobi scolds, “Tell her she looks pretty,” Hobi pushes Jungkook’s shoulder this time.

“You look…” Jungkook pauses, and for a moment both you and Hobi hold your breath, for Jungkook’s mouth was quite unpredictable sometimes, “You look more than pretty,” he says with a warm look on his face before catching himself and going back to his usual expressionless face and turning his attention back to the screen. Hobi who looks like he’s about to tease the hell out Jungkook once you leave, struggles to hide the big grin on his face. While you, well you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Well get going now! And don’t come back too late!” Hobi teases, loving the persona of acting like a parent a little too much.

Was thinking about your roommate regular for a date? Because that’s what you found yourself doing … a lot. From the moment you had stepped into Jimin’s car your immediate comparison was to Jungkook’s own car. Once he started driving, your mind went to how unlike Jimin who drove with both hands on the steering wheel, Jungkook liked driving with one. More specifically his left.

And of course being on a date you expect conversation to be flowing all around even when you’re waiting on the food, but for some reason you had become so used to Jungkook always being silent until he was nearly finished with his food, that when Jimin began to make conversation while waiting definitely felt … odd for you to say the least. And don’t even get you started on what he ended up ordering. Well done steak?! Jungkook hated well done steak, preferring medium rare over anything. And so to say your roommate had been constantly on your mind this whole time was a bit of an understatement.

Currently the two of you were walking on the bridge of a local park, the several number of lampposts and people all around you making it less scary than compared to that night at the park with Jungkook. “So Y/N how’s your year been so far?” Jimin asks, a pleasant smile on his face.

“It’s been,” you pause, thinking about the person who came into your life only months ago, “it’s been pretty good.”

“That’s good to hear, that’s good to hear,” he repeats, the two of you now sitting on a bench, “So I know I told you I had some important news,” he begins, “and it’s something I’ve been really wanting to talk to you about for a very long time,” he insinuates, “and so if you could close your eyes for a moment that’d be great,” you do as follows, and close your eyes, Your heart begins to race but it wasn’t the same kind of racing you felt that night at the park with Jungkook. It was more of a “what am I doing here?” kind of nervousness so to speak. Nonetheless you shrug the feeling off.

Jimin, who was originally supposed to be getting an exhibition flyer out of his coat, notices that you have what looks to be a leaf in your hair. Deciding that it was bothering him too much he goes and reaches for it, surprised to be in contact with your lips seconds later. Quickly he pulls away, staring at you wide eyed. Both of your faces now tomato red, as he struggles to form words.

Eyes still widened, he pulls out the folded paper from jacket, once unfolded it reads, “Seoul City’s Annual Public Art Exhibition with a special performance by Seoul’s Contemporary Dance Academy choreographed by Park Jimin.”

“Oh my God—” you manage to breath out, coming to the realization that kissing you was not his attention.

He scratches the back of his neck, “I um, yeah, I’m this year’s choreographer for the city's art exhibition and well I managed to get you a slot so that you could have your very first art piece exhibited,” Jimin feigns an awkward smile, “You know since you’re a painter first before an accountant.” You, still hung up on what was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life, stare at him in complete silence. Everything barely registering in your head.

“Y/N…” he begins the dreadful pity speech by grabbing your hand, “I um,” he lets out an awkward chuckle before continuing, “I like you, I do, but not in that way…”

In the movies, this is where you’re supposed to feel as if your world was crashing down on you, the part where your heart is supposed to sink in complete sadness and you go home a complete crying mess. But rather than feel any of those things, you instead feel …. relief? Yeah, you kissing the boy was embarrassing, but it wasn’t something that was gonna haunt you for the rest of your life. Maybe for a week or two, but not definitely not the rest of your life.

Jimin wonders what’s going through your mind, the apparent smile that suddenly grew on your face telling him that things were going to be just fine, “I sorta um had my eyes on someone else in our friend group…” and with that he gets your attention because you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Taehyung,” you say, and Jimin silently nods, a laugh emitting from both of your lips.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you even agreed to go out with me, that Jungkook dude seemed like was going to lunge at me any second over there at the supermarket,” Jimin says, “I thought you two were a thing at first.”

You laugh in disbelief, “Me and Jungkook?” you say, scrunching your face.

“Um yeah, it’s not really something shocking,” Jimin laughs, “I mean you two definitely looked like a couple that day, very much doing um couple-like things. Maybe not affectionate wise but I don’t know there were definitely looks and glances being exchanged. But if you say there’s nothing between you two then who am I to argue?” Jimin shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his face.

“Exactly, who are you to argue,” you dramatically snarl, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter.

“So y/n what do you say about participating in the art exhibition? You know you want toooo,” Jimin sings, pouting his lips. You had forgotten about that for a moment, the embarrassment of the kiss completely fazing you out.

“Oh I don’t know,” you nervously say, you hadn’t seriously painted in such a long time, that chapter in your life being a closed book for quite some time now.

“But y/n—” Jimin begs, “This could be the moment you’ve been waiting for, there’s going to be a lot of professional artists there along with buyers.”

“I just—” something was holding you back from saying yes. Was it fear? Maybe. All you knew was that you couldn't dive into something that you had long given up on, “I don’t think I can,” you ultimately say.

Jimin frowns, “You sure? I can’t hold the slot for too long, and well I was so sure you’d say yes..” You sigh before nodding, confirming that you were saying no.

“Ah okay,” Jimin says, completely understanding, “Come on let’s get you home,” to which you nod, a small sad smile on your face.

By the time you got back home, you wondered if the boys’ were asleep already, hoping at least one of them was awake to talk to, more specifically Hobi, for he always knew what to say when you needed comfort. And so when you opened the door to find the TV still on, but no one in the living room, you were confused to say the least.

You walk towards Hobi’s room, crack open the door, and peep your head in only to find him sound asleep. Did that mean Jungkook was up? Maybe someone just forgot to turn off the TV… with your curiosity getting the best of you, you decide to go Jungkook’s room and check if he was there. With your hand on the knob, you begin to twist it, slowly opening the door until a voice scares you from behind, “What are you doing?” he harshly whispers causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” you whisper as well, closing his door immediately, “I-I-I thought you were,” you point at his door, unable to complete your sentence.

“I was peeing,” he says, “Did you not see the light on?”

Shaking your head no, you ask, “What are you even doing up this late?”

Jungkook awkwardly stammers, “I um, I just couldn’t sleep,” he says instead of admitting that secretly he was waiting for you to arrive, just to make sure you were safe. Nothing else of course, not like he wanted to know how your date went… “Why are you going into my room without my permission?” he questions.

You scoff, “You always go in mine!” you try your best to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake up a grumpy Hobi, “Why can’t I go in yours?”

“Because you’ve never told me anything against me going into yours,” he argues, “Just because we’re um,” he pauses, struggling to say the word that comes next, “friends… doesn’t mean you get to go snooping around.” What the hell was he hiding in there that you couldn’t go in?

“That’s not fair and you know it,” you complain, ready to cross your arms and complain like a kid, that is until he flicks your forehead with his index finger.

“Ow,” you cry, “What was that for?” you groan, and he shrugs in response.

“I don’t know I just felt like doing it,” he smirks, “your forehead just looks so … flickable.” You narrow your eyes, quickly flicking his in return, garnering an “ow” from him as well.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that,” he says, and quickly but also softly because you didn’t want to stomp too hard on the floor, you run back to the living room, the two of you now chasing each other around, index fingers ready for some more flicking. Maniacal fits of giggles filling the room as you begin to throw pillows at each other, running around the kitchen island like little kids.

Jungkook, despite being the faster runner, was the one being chased. The closer you got to him, the further you began to reach your arm for his t-shirt, your fingertips always grazing the bottom. But once you finally did, something very unexpected happened. You tripped.

Soon enough, you were hands down on the floor, Jungkook below you, a casualty of your fall. The two of you now facing each other, chests heaving from your game of tag, laughing uncontrollably. Not exactly caring if Hobi, the neighbors, or the rest of the world could hear you.

Gradually, you get off him and instead lay on the kitchen floor right next him, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. A comfortable silence in the air. If someone would’ve told you at the beginning of the year that you and Jungkook would be playing tag in the apartment like little kids, you would’ve told them they were crazy. But yet here you were, heart pounding out of your chest, wanting this moment to remain for as long as it possibly could.

“So…” Jungkook continues to stare at the ceiling, “How’d your date go?”

“It was…” you use the only word that could properly describe it, “embarrassing,” you giggle, recalling what happened. Jungkook looks at you, eager to say the least, to know why.

“Let’s just say I ummm … took some signs completely wrong,” you awkwardly chuckle, “or long story short, I sorta kissed him and well let’s just say he has his eyes on someone else in our friend group.”

Was it wrong for Jungkook to feel happy? Happy that you two didn’t have insane chemistry, become boyfriend and girlfriend, and live happily ever after after like in the fairytales. Of course he wasn’t happy that it was you who went for the kiss, nor that it was who you got rejected, but it was better than you coming in here raving on about Park Jimin, no offense to Jimin.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s fine really,” you laugh, “what’s weird was that I didn’t really feel as heartbroken or as sad as I thought I’d be,” you shrug, “I’m just glad it didn’t ruin our friendship or anything. If anything I’m sad about what he offered... “

“What did he offer?” Jungkook’s jaw tightens, but you’re quick to shake your head and sigh.

“He offered me a spot at Seoul’s annual art exhibition, I guess since he choreographed a dance, he was able to talk them into giving him a spot and well I said no,” Jungkook frowns, wondering why you didn’t take the offer, “I just couldn’t see myself doing it… I haven’t painted in what feels like forever and to then have it be seen by thousands of people, yeah I can already feel the anxiety from that. One bad comment and I’m going to have to fake a smile the whole time and cry when I get home.”

Jungkook scoffs, “Who cares what others think? Screw them. I know that it’s rich coming from me, but if you think those people who may insult you or throw some sly comment to get under your skin are better than you in any way then let me tell you, they’re not. And who says you have to take their shit? Stop feeling as if you have to always put on some fake smile for people in order to spare their feelings and start looking out for your own,” Jungkook sits up, looking down on you. “So you know what you’re going to do?”

You stare at him in silence, murmuring a tiny “what?”

“You’re going to text Jimin right now and tell him you’re taking that spot,” Jungkook demands, “and if you don’t then I’ll call him myself and do it for you.” Now it’s your turn to sit yourself right up, waiting for a sign in his eyes that told you he was purely kidding. “Well what are you waiting for?” He eyes your pockets, waiting for you to reach for your phone.

“Jungko—”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me that you’re not feeling sad because you know you’re going to regret saying no to the opportunity,” Jungkook’s voice raises without meaning to, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t have to see a single painting of yours to know that you’re talented, and if people can’t see that then honestly it’s their loss.” You feel your heart swell with every word, slowly pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jungkook gets up from his position, offering his hand to help pull you up. Once he pulls you, he walks towards the fridge, and takes two pints of ice cream out the freezer. Your face lights up as you watch him get two spoons from the drawer, “Don’t hold it against me, but I bought these after you left just in case you came back a crying mess,” he avoids eye contact with you while handing you your pint, “But heartbreak or not, someone has to eat these. So come on, send that text so we can watch some One Piece.”

“Imagine you would’ve never convinced me to do the art exhibition,” you laugh, gently nudging Jungkook.

“Mm though it could’ve prevented a lot of things, the good definitely outweighed the bad so…” Jungkook pauses, “I guess it just goes to show you have to go through the downs in order to reap the rewards of the up.”

“Now look who's getting all wordy on me,” you tease.

“I guess you’re rubbing off on me more than I’d like to admit,” he pretends to be annoyed by dramatically sighing but a laugh soon follows.

June 2019.

After texting Jimin that you had changed your mind, you began to work on the painting you had brainstormed for the art exhibition, first sketching it out and now well on your way to starting your quite large painting.

Honestly, pulling out your old art tools and portfolio from years ago was nostalgic, bringing you a genuine sense of completeness. To have a decent paying job, the best of friends, and now being able to practice the hobby you had once considered turning into a career was everything you could ask for. But what made you feel even warmer inside was just how supportive Jungkook was of the whole thing, always buying and bringing back art materials for you to use, including different colors of paint. Though most of the time they weren’t really what you considered the best quality, it was the thought that counted.

After your boxing lessons with him, you’d usually go straight to your room to begin working on it, for the first time since you stopped painting feeling actual motivation and creativity flowing through you. Life was good. Not good, amazing.

That was until today, when you noticed Jungkook hadn’t woken you up for your usual Saturday workout. “Maybe he overslept?” you think to yourself, probably had a tiresome night at work yesterday. Slowly you make your way outside his door, gently knocking on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nothing. Not a groan, not a “let me sleep”, absolutely nothing. You knock one more time just to make sure, your shoulders dropping once you realize he wasn’t going to open the door. Remembering what he said about entering his room, you decide that if he was having a bad day, it’d just be best to leave him be for the meanwhile.

Things didn’t really start getting alarming until you and Hobi both noticed that he skipped breakfast. His door remaining absolutely closed the whole morning and day, not a peep of sound coming out.

“Hobi, I’m starting to get worried,” your eyes glimmer with concern, “He hasn’t come out all day.”

“I know I am too, but—” Hobi sighs, “I don’t want to pressure him into—” the sound of a door opening quickly grabs your guys’ attention, the two of you silently watching Jungkook come out of his room. The time on the clock reading 6PM, the sun outside beginning to set. Carefully you watch Jungkook come into the kitchen, grabbing nothing more than a water bottle and a couple of snacks.

There’s a redness to his eyes that you’d never seen before, almost as if he had been sobbing. His under eyes were in the early stages of becoming puffy, and his skin seemed a lot paler than usual. You feel your heart sink when the two of you, for a mere second, make eye contact. Quietly he begins to make his way back to his room, but not before you offer him some food.

“Y/N—” Hobi tries to stop you, but you continue nonetheless.

“I made japchae,” you say, “I even added extra mushrooms like how you always like it,” he stares at you in silence, a cold look to his eyes before ignoring you and returning to his room. The door slamming shut once he does. If your heart was sunk already, then it was definitely stomped and ripped into pieces after that.

You turn your attention back to the TV, feeling Hobi’s stare from the side. Suddenly the volume of the TV is lowered and you already know what's coming, “Y/N…” you hear Hobi say, a sad tone behind his voice.

“Hobi don’t,” you cut him off before he could continue, not wanting to receive his pity, “I just don’t feel like hearing it right now.”

Hobi ignores you, knowing you were just putting up a wall as a defense mechanism, “You know he didn’t mean it,” he says, “he’s probably just having a rough day that’s all.”

“Even if he is, why does he still feel the need to just keep it to himself, why can’t he see that he can trust us, that he can trust me? Sometimes it feels like he knows a lot more about me than I know about him—” you rant, trying to keep your voice down so that Jungkook doesn’t hear you from his room.

Hobi sighs, getting up from the couch and grabbing his jacket and keys from the counter, “Put on your shoes,” he says, and you look at him confused before doing as he says and following him outside. The two of you then climb up the fire ladder of your apartment and onto the roof, the view of the stars sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay now sit—” he commands, which you do anyway.

“Why are we even out here?” you question, regretting not bringing your own sweater.

“Because I’m going to tell you a story, and well I don’t want Jungkook hearing us,” he says, making himself comfortable in the spot next to you, “You ready?”

Silently you nod your head yes, and so he continues.

“When I was a kid, I was what you could call ...nerdy … so to speak,” he chuckles, “I had those big ol glasses that made you look like you had fish eyes, I liked reading the Harry Potter books, I didn’t like playing sports like the rest of the boys in my elementary school did, and well in general I just wasn’t like a lot of them,” he pauses to look up at the sky, continuing once he was ready, “Now when you’re in elementary, kids won’t directly bully you, but instead they’ll make little teasing remarks because well ...we’re kids. We don’t know the big curse words yet or what we’re capable of physically. And so as a kid I’d let those jokes slide, I’d let their insults become the label put on me, not knowing the true maliciousness behind it.”

You feel your eyes become glossy, knowing where this was leading, “But the older you get, the more you begin to learn and well soon enough the teasing became full on bullying by middle school. The older kids would make these nicknames for me, and constantly call me them before, during, and after school. Occasionally even following me for a couple of blocks when walking home just to remind me that they had power over me,” Hobi’s voice begins to shake a little, “and well I didn’t know how to speak up for myself, let alone defend myself and so it just became a regular occurrence until on a certain day in middle school,” he pauses, taking a big breath.

“I had been walking home from school that day, and for some reason that day I decided I wanted to take a different route back home, probably because I was hoping the kids who would bully me would decide not to follow me. But boy was I was wrong,” he feigns a laugh, “The route I had taken was right next to the Suyeong River, and well I think it’s important to note that I didn’t know how to swim at the time. I think I personally choose not to remember too much, but one moment I was walking and the next I had my face being pulled in and out of the water, the sounds of laughter being the thing I remember the most from that day,” Hobi closes his eyes, his voice cracking as he continues, “And I just remember thinking how could kids my age be so viscous?” tears begin to silently fall from his eyes, his hands slightly shaking at the recollection of the memory, “I thought this was it, this is the end of the line for me.”

“It wasn’t until I felt the release of my hair and the touch of someone pulling back that the nightmare came to an end,” Hobi wipes his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, “When I finally managed to get some kind of focus on my vision, I’d come to see the boy who was pushing me into the water completely knocked out the floor while the rest of his buddies were running to who knows where,” The scene from the club begins to replay in your head, remembering the person who had gotten there just at the right time.

“And then there was Jungkook, the boy I’d never seen a day in my life , helping me fix myself along with looking for my glasses even after having knocked out that boy with his bare hands. After that me and Jungkook became the best of friends, like actual genuine friends and the bullying had completely stopped. I’d also come to find out that Jungkook was a boxer, and not a casual one, like an “I practice every weekday, weekend, day, and night.” kind of one. He was aiming to go pro, and so he had to put in the time for it. His parents were supportive of it as well, as I think his dad saw the most potential in it.”

Hobi takes a breather before continuing, finding yourself completely immersed in the story, “And so when our senior year came around and I had gotten accepted into SNU, I asked Jungkook what he was planning on doing now that we were graduating. And well that’s when he told me that had gotten an offer to train and compete in the states, where there’d be a lot more tougher competition and where he could really develop the natural talent he had. So on graduation day we had our teary farewell, and I remember telling him that if he ever needed anything and I truly meant anything, that he’d know where to find me.”

“So when years later I received a call at about 2 in the morning, asking if he could redeem the favor he had once done for me so long ago, I knew I couldn’t say no. I don’t know what happened in the states, and I don’t bother to ask him because I know that the day he’s ready to tell me or you, he will. Whatever did happen over there, changed him though. He came back a colder, more rude person, and honestly I thought he’d be like that forever until he started to get to know you,” Hobi smiles, “That’s when I began to see glimpses of the Jungkook I knew from high school again, the one who liked to mess around all the time, and never took himself too seriously.”

“You see y/n, I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know that Jungkook isn’t like us in the way of opening up when he feels sad or mad. He’s used to being the one doing all the protecting and so when he finds himself in a place where he’s overwhelmed by the feelings of sadness or anger, he gives the cold shoulder or becomes someone who isn’t like him at all, in order to avoid talking about it. I think it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know the burden he carries. To sum it up y/n, Jungkook is the definition of when it rains, it pours … but when it shines, you’ll completely forget it ever rained to begin with,” Hobi pats you softly on the shoulder, “So the best thing you can do right now is let the storm play itself out, so that then you can be there when the rainbow comes back out.”

If only you had listened.

“Ahh so it was Hobi who told you everything,” Jungkook scrunches his face.

“No duhhhhh,” you sing, “Who else could have?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know, I thought you just magically figured it out on your own,” you’re unsure on whether he’s being sarcastic or not so all you is narrow your eyes at him, deciding to stay silent than make yourself look stupid.

“Mm either way Hobi made a BIG mistake telling me,” you laugh, “because he should've known my nosiness was only going to lead to problems.”

“Tell me about it,” Jungkook teases, resulting in a light smack to the shoulder.

July 2019.

It had been about a month since Jungkook’s change in behavior, his cold demeanor reminding you of when he first moved in months ago. The only time he’d ever leave his room was to go to work, use the restroom, or get his food to take to his room. You had been working on your painting whenever you got the chance, a distraction from the constant concern you felt for Jungkook. You know Hobi said to give it time, but how long would it be until Jungkook decided to finally open up? He couldn’t go on like this forever, could he?

You missed the Jungkook you had gotten to know in the last couple of months, the one who showed you that the tough wall he put up around him was nothing more than an act. That behind it, he was a complete sweetheart who liked drinking his banana milk and watching One Piece whenever he had the chance, the one who constantly liked to steal your things from your room and then replace them with an even better version, the one whose laugh sorta reminded you of Elmo but was still absolutely adorable, and lastly the one who you had found constantly by your side and falling further in love with every waking moment.

Not like, but love. You had come to realize it while you were in bed one night, your only thoughts being thunk all relating to Jungkook in some way. Remembering the number of times this month where you’d find yourself outside his bedroom door, inches away from knocking, knowing that all you needed was for him to open up the door at least once and you’d know everything was going to be okay. Sadly, you’d always find yourself chickening out, Hobi’s words always ringing in your head to serve as a reminder. Jungkook needed space. And as much as you wanted to run up to him and give him a tight hug, you knew you had to respect his boundaries.

So then why was it that today, when you found yourself painting and missing a certain color, a tiny voice in your head was telling you that maybe Jungkook had it… Realistically you knew it wasn’t possible, you had kept track of all your colors from the moment you started, but damn was that voice convincing.

Getting up from the floor, you walk out into the living room, checking around to see if it was there. Hobi, who was currently taking a nap on the couch, seemed completely at peace.

You check his room to see if he has it, but your efforts were to no avail. The only place it had to be was Jungkook’s room. It had to be. At least that’s what you were telling yourself so could finally have an excuse to knock on his door. Making your way to his room, you prepare to knock, your knuckles lightly tapping against the wooden door. But to your surprise the door creaks open, no one presumably in the room…

You could’ve sworn Jungkook was home? You double check the restroom, making sure it wasn’t going to be an incident like last time, but this time he really wasn’t there. The voice of reasoning versus temptation now had you completely torn. You remember the day Jungkook first moved in, and how secretive he got over you seeing whatever it was inside his boxes, and the night after your date and how stern he was about you not entering.

Slowly you push open the door of his room, completely forgetting Hobi’s words and deciding that it was either now or never. You knew you were a pushing boundary that you shouldn’t be, but a part of you also felt like it had to be done. Maybe if you found out what was bothering Jungkook so much, you could help him.

Honestly, you weren't too sure on what you expected when you first entered. Considering how secretive Jungkook was about it, you sorta assumed the room would be all black and have a whole bunch of weird things hanging across the walls, but surprisingly his room looked completely normal. The bed covers were a navy blue color that matched with some of the artwork he had hung across the beige colored apartment walls. The drawers were plain and boring while his desk looked like any other ordinary desk: stacked with random sketches, pens, One piece manga, and printed webtoons. If this is all he was hiding, then it really no made sense because there was literally nothing to hide….

That was until you saw the closed closet door, and once you opened it, you were blown away. For what was behind those closet doors was an entire memorabilia of awards, belts, photos, and trophies which you assumed were all Jungkook’s, newspapers from the states with headlines that spoke of how amazing Jungkook was. Many of them include the words “rising”, “prodigy”, and “the next big thing”. Your eyes try to take everything in all in one go, but it was just so much. There were papers that were written about him even when he was a kid, pictures of his with several belts around his waist amazed you. This was insane.

But it wasn’t until you noticed the newspaper headline of the paper hung right in the center of the practical shrine that the smile from your face fell, as it read, “Prodigy Jeon Jungkook, K.O’d in Round 12 against Brandon Star.” You look at the date, and everything begins to start making sense. The date which read December 1, 2018, only a couple of weeks prior to your first meeting with him at New Years, the churning feeling in your stomach only becoming heavier as you read the newspaper next to it. “Rising Star, Jeon Jungkook, disappears. Where is he now?” it reads, and as you skim through the different articles, the whole memorabilia shrine begins to make sense. Jungkook didn’t have this here for the purpose of maintaining old memories, but for the purpose of constantly reminding himself of what he once was and how he ended up failing, torturing himself to say the least. It’d explain his pent up anger when you first met him, the scar was still fresh.

Grabbing one of the trophies from the memorabilia desk, you observe the glass material and admire its fine detail, Jungkook’s name written in cursive underneath the title. Slowly your fingers graze over it, whispering his name to yourself, “Jeon Ju—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice harshly interrupts, scaring you and causing you to jump. The slippery trophy in your hands falling to floors, several pieces of glass now shattered onto the floor. Turning to face the owner of the voice, your heart stops when you find Jungkook staring at the floor, an expressionless look on his face.

“I—” your brain completely freezes, only staring at his balled up fist which was becoming more red with every passing second.

“I told you—” he closes his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, “I told you to stay the fuck out of my room,” he finally snaps, his enraged voice echoing across the walls of the room, “So then why, why the fuck are you in here right now!” he moves towards you, his face now becoming red in anger. Not caring whether he was stepping on glass or not.

“I know but—”

He cuts you off, “But fucking what? There’s no reason you should even be in here right now y/n! None!” he screams, his rage only furthering with every word. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you stammer to defend yourself. “How would you feel like if I barged into your room and destroyed something personal of yours, huh?”

All you can do is stare at him, never seeing him this enraged before, the sight definitely a scary one, “Answer me goddamit!” he yells, his fist still balled up, holding himself back from punching anything. He looks down at the broken glass one more time, his chest now heaving in anger before storming out the room.

Quickly you follow him, chills going down your spine when you see him turn to your room.

“What are you—” you begin, but it’s too late. Everything happens in slow motion, from the fist being thrown to the sound of the canvas you’d been working so long on cracking, several holes and rips appearing soon after. You look at the scene in front of you in silence, shock running through your veins, and the need to vomit stronger than ever before. Jungkook breathes heavily, staring at what he’s just done, not feeling a single ounce of remorse.

The closing feeling in your throat is one that’s too overwhelming, but the anger you were now feeling was even stronger, “What is wrong with you,” you whisper, tears falling down from your eyes, a look of terror overtaking your face, “What is wrong with you!” you scream, lips trembling as your voice breaks at just how loud you were. Jungkook feels his blood run cold, taken back by your sudden outburst.

“I have been nothing but kind to you since the day we’ve met, nothing but!” you yell, hot tears uncontrollably falling from your hysteria.

Jungkook scoffs, yelling right in return, “Do you want some kind of reward for that? Is that it? Is that all this is? Another ego booster for you so you can pat yourself on the back and say you’re a good person!”

“I don’t need anything from anyone! Especially not from someone like you,” you spit, Jungkook’s jaw clenching at your response.

“Ah I knew that nice ol princess act was nothing more than mere bullshit,” he bitterly laughs, “finally had enough of your whole little treat everyone with kindness moral?” he mocks you.

“It’s not a fucking act, I’m just not a miserable person like you!” you grit your teeth, the temptation to throw something at him at an all time high.

“No you just live in this big old fantasy bubble that’s got you believing that kindness solves all the world's problems!”

“Yeah well it’s better than thinking that being a fucking prick to the rest of the world gets you anywhere, I mean look at where you’re at now!” you yell, knowing you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t care at all anymore. The ice was shattered the moment he destroyed your painting, “I understand that I made a mistake going into your room, but you don’t have to take the rest of your miserable life out on me! You think everyone around you wants to be some kind of punching bag all the time for you?” the veins in your neck begin to pop out, and you almost feel as if your chest was going to physically explode at any moment, “How dare you come in here and treat everyone around you like complete shit all because you’re living a sad tragic life!”

“That’s not true,” he snarls, a scowl on his face.

“Isn’t it?” you scoff, “You’ve done it since the first day you got here, and so let me do the favor of telling you the truth and giving you a goddamn reality check! We’re all sick and tired of it! Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you get to make everyone around you as well! And let me tell you, I’ll be damned if I let someone like you make me just as rotten as yourself,” and for a small second you see the hurt across Jungkook’s face, and you think maybe you’ve gone too far.

Maybe this could’ve all been prevented had you never entered his room. But then you think to yourself that no, this was bound to happen. This was always going to happen whether you liked it or not. The questions had always just been: when was it going to happen and what was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back? By now both of your chests are heaving, and there’s a silence that fills the room. Time acts as nothing more than an illusion.

“Is that what you really think?” he says, a cold hardened expression on his face again, “That I make you miserable?” You look at the destroyed painting on the floor, a symbol that despite building and making something so beautiful, all it took was one slip of the finger for it all to go down the drain. Without saying anything, you slowly nod to him, the emptiness in your heart acting as a driving force.

“What the—” Hobi walks in the room, dazed and confused, “What the fuck is going on in here?” He asks, but the two of you remain silent, continuing to stare at one another.

That is until Jungkook breaks away from the stare, muttering a small “nothing,” under his breath, walking out of the room and going back to his own, the door loudly slamming shut.

“Y/N…” Hobi begins, but you cut him off before he even gets the chance, a tiresome expression on your face.

“Hobi,” you shake your head, “Just leave me alone!,” you snap at him, but it comes out more as a plea than a demand, voice completely weary. Hobi stares at you for a moment before doing so, gently closing the door when making his way out. Once you hear the sound of the door close, you squat down to the floor, fingers grazing the painting you’d work so hard on, a muffled sob finally escaping from your lips.

a/n: whew! originally this was supposed to be nothing more than a small drabble, but as i kept writing it just ended becoming this monstrous of a fic that i had to split into two lmao. hopefully i didn’t make the switches between present day and the past too confusing for y’all. part two will probably be up by next friday, once my finals week is over :)) any messages, anons, comments, reblogs, and like are appreciated! see y’all next time! 💞

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windblooms · 4 years

Note

Hi!! Could you do headcanons of Diluc, Kayea, Childe and Zhongli with a s/o who is touch starved but is too shy to intimate physical affection please? Thank you!💙

decided to answer the two of these in the same ask since they have similar personalities for the reader, and they evolved into scenarios. hopefully what i’ve written is all right!

edit: to the second anon, i’m sorry, i don’t know how people write more than 500 characters in asks. ㅠㅠ is it maybe a submission . . . ?

childe:

as a very perceptive individual, childe would pick up on your hesitations relatively soon, however won’t say anything about them outright.

while he may ask you if something’s wrong whenever you reach out, but self-consciously pull away, or when you’re on the verge of words but can’t bring yourself to speak, he won’t pry into your meekness.

he knows that some people prefer to keep things to themselves or away from others – he’s a prime example of this himself. so he doesn’t want to push you, but will continue to keep mental tabs on when you shrink away, or backtrack after you sound as if you’re going to ask him something.

if the trend continues for a while, he’ll eventually sit down to talk with you about it. he’ll discuss with you patiently, not wanting to invade past things you might not want to share just yet, but he still tries to find the cause of your hesitancies so he can better understand you.

“there’s something bothering you, isn’t there?” he leans forward across the table, and rests his chin on his hand. “you can tell me, you know. i’ll try and help you with it.”

as you take your time to answer, he grows increasingly concerned, but still wears a poker face to not influence you as well. across the table, he’ll slowly reach out his hand as a means of comfort, and clasp yours when you don’t pull away.

you begin to speak about your uncertainties, and childe listens intently. ah, so that was it – now that you mention it, the two of you don’t hold hands much, or really touch each other. he had assumed that’s how you preferred it, little to no physical touch. but now that you’ve explained why you’ve concealed those wishes . . .

“i’d be more than willing to hold you.” childe’s words are soft, and he manages a small smile to encourage you. as soon as your face flushes, though, he can tell that there’s something else you want to say. so he pauses, expectant, but you still seem nervous.

he takes a gander and speaks. “we can start off slow, if you want . . . actually, anything you want, you can tell me. you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed.”

from there, the two of you work out what you want. you both agree to take it slow, since this will be a first for you; small touches against each other’s fingers as reassurance, and taps against his shoulder when you’re too nervous to outright ask for his attention. he also has something of his own to suggest:

“there’s some custom that mondstadtians have,” childe ponders aloud suddenly. “hm – something about tapping three times, meaning ‘i love you’?”

at his notion, you become bashful, and look down towards your lap. you know where he’s going with this, and at your reaction, the snezhnayan chuckles, unfolding his hands from atop each other to squeeze yours in demonstration.

“one, two, three. it’s just gonna be between us, all right?”

diluc:

diluc is arguably one of the most emotionally reserved characters in all of mondstadt. sure, he’s got a sense of dry humor and wit whenever he feels snarky enough, but when it comes to personal sentiments? he keeps them behind lock and key, with the exception of passive aggression.

if you’re self-conscious about asking for affection, such as when you’re about to reach out to tap at his hand yet pull back at the last instant, you find him looking at you expectatntly, his notorious half-lidded gaze fixated on you. if there’s something you want, you’ll ask for it is his mentality, since he assumes that the two of you are both comfortable enough in your relationship to do so. and relationships are built around trust. so why are you hesitating?

that is to say, he doesn’t stare at you until you crack. after a few seconds, he’ll look away, and resume whatever he was doing beforehand. if it were anyone else, he’d most likely ask them verbally what they want, since there’s no use in prolonging the time, and he’s an impatient man.

he makes a conscious effort to be more gentle with you. he can’t quite tell if you appreciate it though especially in these scenarios, since you always chew at your lip and refrain from looking at him afterwards.

diluc will only allude to these instances. he��ll ask “is there something you need?” or “is something the matter?” he has no experience with physical affection of any sort, at least since his father all those years ago. so he’d be quite lost with your circumstance; he doesn’t know at all what you want unless you make a verbal indication as to what it is.

one day, in the privacy of his office, he senses your fingers just near his forearm. diluc looks over in time to see you clasp his coat rather shakily, but your hold is there nonetheless. much like usual, he’ll peer at you with a half-lidded gaze, although this time he addresses how skittish you appear.

“something the matter?” he’ll say as per usual, but this time he isn’t vague; he’s referring to your sudden committance to reaching out as opposed to pulling away.

“ . . . just wanted to hold you.” your confession is a mere whisper, but your boyfriend still hears it. the two of you sit in silence for a bit, before he turns his body and puts his hand on the side of your head, pressing gently so that you lean flush against his arm.

you’re speechless, however the circumstance doesn’t need words anymore. content with you hugging his arm, and now understanding your wants, diluc continues to work as you drift asleep against him. while there’s still a ways to go, as he’s sure that this isn’t the only desire you have, it’s surely a start.

kaeya:

the astute captain that he is, kaeya can hone into your desires with relative ease.

before you can retract your hand after reaching out, he’s already grasped it in his own. you’re caught off-guard, not expecting his agility, but his grip isn’t firm or unpleasant; it’s gentle, as if he’s caring for glass.

he lowers his face so that the two of you are eye-level. “no need to be shy. it’s just us.” kaeya’s reassurance is playful at first, until your contemplative silence queues him in on the severity of your timidness.

he’s concerned: is there something serious that’s bothering you? he’d just assumed that you wanted to hold hands, or lean on each other. for how long it takes you to speak, he’s thinking the worst: is a coworker bothering you? are you ill with a fever? kaeya’s eyebrows furrow, and he immediately speaks again. “what’s wrong, precious? tell me, please.”

looking up at him, you realize that he has the wrong impression. tenderly enveloping your cheek with his hands, rubbing your skin with his thumbs, you sink into the affection – but he’s got the wrong idea.

“i-it’s fine,” you begin, and he blinks rapidly. “just . . . wanted to, uh,” you nudge further into his hands, and squeeze his arms gently, “ . . . touch you.”

ah. your meekness makes sense now, although considering your personality, his initial guesses probably wouldn’t have been far off. nevertheless, kaeya indulges you, even if you both continue the circumstance in silence. it’s evident that you’ve been holding back this request for a while, and as much as he loves to tease and would like to in this moment, he doesn’t believe now is an appropriate time.

so, kaeya continues to stroke your face, soothing away your nerves. his other hand clasps yours in your lap, giving you the time and affection you crave.

he finds your vulnerability endearing, but there’s guilt on his conscience: why have you been nervous to approach him about this, and why did he not pick up on it sooner? not that he expects you to come for him for everything – kaeya just theorizes that there must be some reason as to why you appear so touch-starved, and he’s thinking the worst about such a reason.

“feeling better?” he inquires, still cradling your face, and he pulls you into a hug. his warmth is reassuring to you – the security that you’ve longed for. if this is what affection feels like, you’re not sure that you’d ever want to pull away.

“yeah.” hesitantly, you lift your face from his chest, but your arms remain around his waist. your boyfriend grins slightly, and ruffles your hair, pushing your bangs aside so he can kiss your forehead.

“tell me about it. we can figure this out together.”

zhongli:

about three weeks into your relationship is when zhongli receives questions from hu tao: “hey, you and y/n don’t touch each other at all. i know you’re ‘professional’ and stuff, but jeez – not even hand-holding? thought it’d get more exciting at this point.”

and while he initially thought of her remarks as rude – your relationship isn’t any of her business – it did prompt him to consider her words.

specifically, she’s right: while he’s generally busy at wangsheng, he strives to make time for you whenever possible. and in that time, never once have either of you touched each other. he’s never minded, since he’s admittedly gone without it for so long and is used to life without it – but it’s the modern age, and isn’t it customary for liyuens to . . . ?

so he takes it upon himself to ask you over dinner. he’s made bamboo shoot soup for you tonight, and as you sit across the table from him, finishing the dish, he speaks so candidly it nearly makes you choke on your last bite.

“would you like to hold hands in the market tomorrow?”

“what?”

zhongli makes a strange face. he knows you heard him, so why do you also look startled, and are averting your eyes?

he repeats himself nonetheless, and while you do answer him this time, it’s by mumbling under your breath.

“ – odd question,” is how you start, and your boyfriend folds his hands underneath his face, yet doesn’t rest his chin. “um, sure. yeah, sure . . . ”

you most definitely do not sound sure, but it’s in a way that further perplexes him. you look . . . thrilled now? he can see that you’re refraining from smiling – the corners of your mouth flutter – but why? zhongli doesn’t recall saying anything that would be good news . . .

“is something the matter?” the archon supplies instead, to which you shake your head. your hands are in your lap.

“ah, no. what you said just came out of no where.” an unconcealed smile from you now, and zhongli finds himself relaxing. if you’re certain, that’s all he cares about.

he stands up, and prepares to take your dish to the kitchen. before though, he makes sure to bring you up to your feet, and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“may i kiss you?” he asks, suddenly, unexpectedly. he sees you nod, the slight pressing of your lips together, and gives them a quick peck before retreating; zhongli can still taste the slight bamboo left over.

when the two of you draw away, there’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks. once more, you seem giddy, however this time he doesn’t have to ask why.

“i’ve never done this before.” there’s trepidation in your voice that causes his brows to furrow slightly. “so . . . it’s all right if we start out slow, right?”

“of course,” zhongli doesn’t hesitate to respond. you could mean so many things, and he isn’t sure which you’re referring to: initiating physicality with him, or maybe that you’ve never had a partner before . . . ? but he doesn't dwell on that. “your comfort is what matters.”

in the market the next day, zhongli finds comfort in the slight tugs on his coat sleeve from your fingers, and the smile that beams on your visage.

#genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #childe headcanons #childe scenarios #diluc headcanons #diluc scenarios #zhongli headcanons #zhongli scenarios #kaeya headcanons #kaeya scenarios #fluff #asks: diluc #asks: childe #asks: kaeya #asks: zhongli

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tamagosandesu · 2 years

Text

SSMonth 2022

Title: of revelations, shooting stars, and a chance Prompt: time travel (day 3) Summary: Just when she thought she knew everything about her husband, all the revelations come flooding just now. Slowly, things go downhill as she worries about her marriage every single day. Until a shooting star comes, granting her a chance to change everything. Author’s Notes: longer, more plot, an AU, with dialogue, and a sakura perspective! I’ll probably continue this since it’s so rushed, and I think I’ll also edit this tomorrow. Anyways, enjoy!

_________________________

Sakura comes home one day from a tiring day at work, to find her husband collapsed in their apartment floor.

She was momentarily stunned into place, eyes wide as saucers and fists clutched so tightly on the grocery bags that it already turned white. A million thoughts ran through her head at that moment, and what seemed like an eternity of being speechless was only a mere second, until she snapped back to reality and dropped the bags to the floor with reckless abandon to aid her husband.

“Sasuke-kun!” she shouts in complete, utter panic that tears flow uncontrollably from her eyes. She reaches for her phone inside her work back, fingers shaking violently as she sobs, emotions brewing profoundly. How could this happen? She thinks to herself as she dials emergency to help her husband.

One moment she leaves the house with her husband for work together, happy and Sasuke being completely healthy with no trace of illness at all that might’ve caused this. Then in a blink of an eye, she comes home ready to spend time with him—then sees him on the floor unconscious, so pale like all the melanin left his body, with a mug shattered into pieces beside him.

Sakura clutches her phone tightly, tears still flowing like a fountain from her eyes while embracing her husband so tenderly, so carefully, as if he’s a fragile object that she could crush any moment. When the line finally connects to the other side, Sakura practically shouts the word ‘help’, almost inaudible due to her throat tightened from all the emotions.

Moments later, the ambulance arrives and Sasuke is taken to the hospital. Placed on a stretcher and examined by random, various nurses.

Everything happened so fast, it’s almost given her whiplash. But nothing was much worse when all the revelations came crashing onto her, one by one.

_____________________

After minutes of prancing back and forth on the hospital, a doctor finally approaches Sakura.

“Are you a relative of Mister Uchiha?” the doctor asked, a young woman, maybe not older than Sakura a few years.

“Um yes. I’m his wife, Sakura Uchiha,” she responds calmly, trying to keep the raging emotions inside of her at bay.

“Alright. Please follow me this way,” the doctor instructed, and Sakura followed along. The doctor lead Sakura to Sasuke’s room, on the fourth floor to the end of the hallway.

The doctor then told her what cause him to collapse. “Exhaustion and fatigue build-up, plus caffeine overdose,” the young woman told Sakura, with a following assurance that it was nothing serious and her husband just needs a few more time to rest.

Sakura felt like a giant rock was lifted from her shoulder. Literally, after seeing Sasuke like that at their home, the pink-haired woman felt like cold, iced-water was spilled on her entire being that it still sends shivers when she remembers it at the present.

Sasuke took no more that a day to recover. And around the time where her dear husband was still resting, Sakura was absent at work, due to medical reasons was her excuse, and looked over Sasuke all day and night until she saw those black eyes opening.

Sakura practically tackles Sasuke as she brought him into a bone-crushing hug that made the raven wheeze for air.

“Sakura… I can’t brea…the,” Sasuke got the words out before he was completely deprived of oxygen. His wife released her instantly, emerald eyes shining with unshed tears and a smile on her face brimming with relief after seeing Sasuke finally awake.

Sakura then asked the elephant of the room, about however did he end up unconscious laying on the floor. “Got caught up with work,” was his short answer followed by a shrug. Sakura has been with Sasuke long enough to master his general body language—and can ultimately tell whether her husband is lying or hiding something from her.

From the way his jay tightens and slackens, to the way he avoids her gaze, Sakura could tell that he wasn’t telling all of the truth. But instead of pondering further on the issue, she lets it slide as she tries to focus on the fact that her husband was fine with no serious illness that she needed to worry about, and not on the fact that Sasuke could be hiding something from her.

____________________________

Sakura was only 23 when Sasuke asked her to marry him. After just one and a half year of dating, the pink-haired woman didn’t even hesitate to give him her sweet yes without thoroughly considering the circumstances. Sakura was madly, and downright in love with her boyfriend, that made her blind to see all of the things he has behind him. She was too smitten by his handsome looks to consider everything about him, and actually see who he is.

She thought she knew everything there was with Uchiha Sasuke—drop-dead gorgeous man with no imperfections whatsoever, an accounting student that plans to study law afterwards, someone who hates sweets and thinks she’s ‘annoying’, someone who doesn’t like attention, but does the exact opposite every time he’s within the 10-meter radius of anyone, and simply, everyone.

Sakura thinks everyone in her situation would’ve done the same if someone like Sasuke asked them out, and proposed a year later.

But when little by little, she discovers pieces from his past and his current life, she’s caught off-guard by all the revelations.

Just when she thought her husband was the perfect, straight-out-of-a-fairytale prince, and that she knows everything there is to know about him, she’s suddenly debunked.

Sakura learns from his colleagues that he was actually a conglomerate’s son, a silver-spoon in his mouth the moment he was born, and an Uchiha name that was powerful ever since before. Sakura took this information with obvious surprise, and confusion. Why didn’t Sasuke-kun tell me? She questions herself while walking alone in the middle of night, a little bubbly from the alcohol, walking home to their apartment.

Sakura just thinks that Sasuke must’ve had a reason why he didn’t tell her his family lineage, and maybe she actually didn’t have to know. But then again, at the same time, why hasn’t he told her? Family matters are important in a relationship—for Sakura—especially that she went out of his way and disobeyed her dad when he didn’t approve of Sasuke when she formally introduce him to her family.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, Sakura discovers pretty much afterwards that his family was massacred on one peaceful night when Sasuke was only 7. This information brought her shock beyond belief that she completely fails her work because of thinking about it for days. Why hasn’t she known? Why hasn’t she noticed that Sasuke never actually introduced her to any family member at all? Why hasn’t she notice this, after years of believing she knows her husband very well from head to toe and back?

It’s kind of unfair, honestly, when all she’s done was be honest like an open book to him, while he didn’t even gave her any clue about what he went through when he was young. Sakura always found Sasuke as someone dark and intimidating, and intriguing in a way that makes him very different from everyone. An anomaly, basically, without her knowing that there’s actually a tragic reason for his odd behavior. —

It’s unfair, honestly, that she sacrificed everything—her dream job, dream wedding, and dream house in order to be with him, in order to be with the love of her life, when all Sasuke’s done was hide things from her. They were already married for heaven’s sake, and he didn’t even consider the possibility of letting her in after all the times they were together as husband and wife?

However, despite all these heavy secrets finally and slowly being unfold, and that Sakura was finally moving on from that fact that she can’t say for sure that she knows everything about Sasuke, she sort of moves on from it. She loves her husband dearly, and can't seem to hold something against him for a long time. She's madly in love, so unconditionally in love, that she lets things slide when it comes to him. She sympathizes heavily when it comes to Sasuke, ever since day one that he opened up about the simple things that he likes, and dislikes. He was odd—very odd from everyone. Starting from the way he does things, and the way he views things. And Sakura has nothing but understanding and sympathy for him, right from the bottom of her loving heart.

But when things were starting to get better, and Sakura was learning to let go, the heaviest bomb was dropped at her just recently. The hardest revelation, the last straw.

Sakura, being the curious person that she is, realized that she never even once looked up her husband on the internet. Now that she knows he’s somewhat of a celebrity after coming from a conglomerate family, Sakura tries and search his name, and everything connected to the Uchiha lineage.

And there, she read the most dreading news about her husband. The family massacre was planned, and that Sasuke’s very own brother—she didn’t even know he had a brother in the first place!—was the culprit behind all the killing. From the very same blood, was the murdered of Sasuke’s family, from the very same blood, was the suspect behind her husband’s misery.

Sakura also read the fact that his brother is currently on the loose, free from justice and is able to roam around the world after doing such a horrible thing to his very own family. Justice wasn’t brought to the Uchiha family, and the culprit is a free man who could very much kill someone right this very second, without facing the price of the immoral act that he did to his very own brother.

Sakura felt the entire world flip upside down from the reality, and the fact that she’s been lied to by her very own husband—the person whom she committed and devoted her life to, in sickness and in health in front of that altar.

It was the last straw. The last trigger that she needed in order to confront her husband and know the truth behind everything that she should’ve known before, but only knew now.

When the confrontation actually happened, Sakura tried to approach calmly, in an empathetic perspective to truly understand Sasuke’s reasons for never sharing her the truth.

But just as expected, it didn’t go well at all.

______________________________

After that night when Sakura confessed to Sasuke finally the she knew the truth behind his family, and the argument that followed right after, everything went downhill after that. Their marriage was slowly failing—hearts that used to be in rhythm, now slowly drifting apart, morning smiles and breakfasts together now done separately, sleeping in the same bed and passionate lovemaking all night now rarely done, and the full igniting spark completely gone.

There was even a time that Sakura considered divorce, after concluding that things will never be the same again if Sasuke will continue to be the way he is. Though it never happened because of her love for him. Because after all that he’s done to Sakura, she still loves him unconditionally, and deeply that letting him go was something that hurt her so painfully to the very core.

There are times where Sakura sits on the grass on the hill near the city bridge, a can of beer in hand, drinking herself until she’s numb enough to forget her worries momentarily and sleep with a peaceful mind.

Those times turned often, as she sips her can of beer staring into the night sky, head swaying in a beat she hums. These are the only times she can smile—when she’s tipsy and not in her rational mind. Her smiles don’t come when she greets her husband home anymore, when they eat meals together, talk about their days before they fall asleep, or when seeing each other was enough of a comfort to make her lips turn up.

No, it’s no longer those days.

It's now these days where she's alone, left to her own company with no one in mind. Drinking herself to oblivion until she's too wasted enough to think hard about the current crisis that she's facing. Cans of alcohol and many, many, distractions are what keeps her going everyday, before that day finally comes where the thread snaps and the dam finally breaks inside of her.

All of a sudden, a shooting star crosses her peripheral vision and takes her attention. Maybe it’s out of bubbliness that she closes her eyes, claps her hands together and makes a wish. Around these times in her life, she doesn’t crave any materialistic gifts anymore. She doesn’t ask, or crave for anything for herself. All she wants is to patch up things with her beloved, hope that her husband will reciprocate, and help her with their journey through this pain they’re facing. Somehow to give her a chance, to see for herself Sasuke’s life before, and help him go through it.

The moment is gone in a blink and instantly, Sakura feels the waves of exhaustion wash over her, making her eyelids heavier and heavier by the minute, until she surrenders fully to sleep and collapses in the grass.

________________________

Sakura wakes up with a start, head throbbing painfully as if she just chugged ten cans of beer last night. The first thing she realizes is the fact that she’s wearing comfortable clothes, and that she’s laying in a soft mattress that she probably can’t afford with her current salary. Sakura thinks it’s a dream as she snuggles closer to the plush pillow her head is laying on, and indulges in this moment of comfort without worrying about tomorrow.

That is until her eyes open for the second time, emerald orbs roaming around as she deciphers her surroundings. Huh? I’m still in my dream? The walls are different…my bed’s different…my clothes are dif– that is until she comes to the horrible realization that everything around her is real and that she is surely not inside her apartment right now.

The first solution that comes to mind was to scream. Somehow, scream for help and hope that someone finds her….and maybe help her find her way back home.

But before she could ponder on that thought further, Sakura was startled when her door was flung open by a woman, wearing what seems to be a maid uniform with an angry expression as if Sakura just broke the sacred rule.

“Sakura Haruno!” the woman calls out with authority and practically stomps towards her. “Don’t you know what time is it?! It’s the young master’s first day of school! You need to attend to him as his personal maid!”

Sakura’s eyebrows furrow deeply as she processes this information, before calmly answering, “a maid? I’m sure miss there’s a tad misunde—”

“Nonsense! Get up from bed this very moment and tend to the young master’s needs!” the woman yelled once again, huffing with anger. She was almost out the door when she noticed Sakura stayed in position, not moving an inch. “Now!” she added that made Sakura flinch with what seemed like fear and went ahead to what she only hopes is the closet to change.

____________________________

Sakura absorbs all the new happenings pretty well. She changed into a maid outfit as well, the same as the one the woman was wearing as it was the thing she spotted inside the closet. She went out her room and followed all the other woman who was dressed just like her, and was lead ultimately to the dining hall where every maid stood with their chin up and poise maintained.

Though despite her catching-up fast, everything is still confusing to Sakura. Though she didn’t want to invoke the wrath of the woman earlier, so she just gets on with the flow and does her best to blend in. She doesn’t know anyone inside this mansion that she just woke up from. The last thing she remembered last night was drinking a can of beer, a shooting star, then a black-out, nothing more. She could have been kidnapped the night before for all she knows. And to be completely honest, her composure is hanging by a very thin line right now that threatens to snap any moment before panic completely takes over her.

Though from the way no one seems to be threatening her, and that no one seems to be requiring ransom for her release, Sakura thinks she isn’t exactly kidnapped.

If so, then what on earth is going on?

Before she could think of those things, however, her attention is caught by the bowing of the maids and a boy who just descended the stairs.

When Sakura looked at the young boy, what she saw caused the breath in her lungs to hitch and her eyes to widen—as if in total disbelief on what she was witnessing.

Because coming down on the stairs, was Sasuke. Her husband, and the love of her life.

Though something was off. This Sasuke was surely no older than 7 years old. There’s absolutely no doubt about the fact that it’s Sasuke—Sakura could tell from his unruly hair, face, and his obsidian, piercing eyes that she grew to love. But why was he looking so young? Was she still dreaming?

Sakura ponders for a moment; is this some type of sick joke? Is someone playing with her? Pranking her?

“Haruno!” she practically jumps when she heard her name called, from a familiar voice earlier when she woke up.

“What are you doing?” the woman whisper-shouts, “go attend to the young master! You’re his personal maid from now on!”

Before Sakura could protest, she was pushed towards Sasuke’s 7-year-old clone, looking at her with a nonchalant expression.

“Hn,” the young man speaks. Even his voice sounded like Sasuke’s, only a higher register due to the lack of going through puberty yet. “Are you my personal maid?”

Unable to think straight from everything, Sakura nods dumbfoundedly and answers, “uh…yes I-I am!”

Sasuke’s eyebrows only furrows and his lips smirks at her reaction.

__________________________

Sakura finally had time to think about things after dropping the 7-year-old-Sasuke to school.

What the hell is happening? Was the question that was constantly in her head. Surely, this all must be a dream right? Like, how can Sasuke’s younger self show up all of a sudden? Sakura’s an adult already, and yet Sasuke is still a child, years younger than she is! What happened while she was out last night? Did she somehow time-travel and went back into—

That’s when it hit. Sakura remembers that she made a wish, on that shooting star, if she can somehow get a chance to change Sasuke’s childhood—somehow travel into the past.

Sakura silently brought a hand to her gaping mouth after everything finally made sense. She time-traveled? How is that even possible?

But then again, Sakura was the type to believe in wishes, in signs, and in manifestations. Surely in theory, everything happening right now is impossible—in no way, shape, or form is time-travelling a thing.

And yet…here she is.

In the past, a personal maid of her husband’s 7-year-old self, with the opportunity to make a change. An opportunity to patch-up things, to change the way things were happening in her present life, and to help her husband in the times where he felt the most alone.

Maybe…just maybe… the Gods have given her a chance.

A chance to change everything.

#fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #naruto #anime fanfic #Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku month #ssmonth2022 #day3

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ddaenggtan · 4 years

Text

say you want passion (i think you found it) | M

you’re a tease. he’s tired of it.

pairing | shownu x fem!reader

wc | 6.5k

genre/warning | Covid doesnt exist sorry, big dick shownu, sweetheart shownu, dom shownu, sub reader, shownu is called hyunwoo in this, he also likes to be called daddy dont judge, sloppy blowjobs, but still, blowjobs, Shownu eats pussy like a CHAMP, Strength Kink, praise, degradation, degrading praise, this is HIGHLY specialized, you've been warned, deepthroating, DEEP deepthroating at that, nsfw pictures, aka shownu likes to remember it when he does a good job so he takes a picture bc it lasts longer uwu, talking with your mouth full (ill let u guess), doggystyle, teasing, brief nipple play, hickeys, begging, dumbification, rough sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, coming inside, gspot shenanigans, this is genuinely so unrealistic please do not think sex is like this ever in real life, i mean literally ever if you ever fuck someone and it's like this then they aren't real they're a fae or a god or some shit okay, aftercare, shownu uses 3-in-1 because He Does, Barely Edited by the grace of @personawife‘s beta that she fit in when she could ilu,

a/n | first n last shownu smut specifically bc its leilas birthday (@honiboyyoon). u better enjoy this. (side note for anyone who isn’t into shownu smut, but is curious: there’s a namjoon version on ao3 that i’ll link here), but this took entirely too much effort and i did my damndest to fit as many things that ur into in this one fic as i possibly could. i hope this makes up for u probably never getting the vampire maknae line foursome i kept promising you sdfkldjsfasdf

The front door opens as you step out of the car, and you grin as your boyfriend appears in the frame. He grins at you and your best friend and you search his expression for a sign of anything other than his usual sweetness, but find none. You resist the urge to pout - you won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Good luck!” Your best friend teases. You roll your eyes at her - she knows precisely what you envisioned upon arriving back to the quaint little house you call home with Hyunwoo. It’s the reason you wore this outfit, and tried on the clothes you did whilst shopping, and sent him selfies in the poses you did.

You’re on a mission, dammit. It’s been weeks - literal weeks, not even an exaggeration - since you were properly fucked, and you’re fairly tired of prancing around the house in your shortest shorts and deepest v-necks so that when you bend over just right to water your fern, he gets the perfect eyeful. It’s exhausting to try to send all these signals all day every day - but you know how flustered he gets when you ask him directly, so you tried a different tactic. You were being nice!

And it hasn’t worked. At all. He’s offered to help you water your plants, to let you borrow his flannel pajamas in case you’re cold, and even to buy you a sweater, at one point.

In August.

So suffice to say, you’re getting a little tired of him being oblivious. So you’d called up your best friend and invited her to go shopping with you, and yes, it was also very fun to hang out with her and get boba, but she’s also the master of hyping you up and making you feel sexy and desirable, so it was truly a win-win.

Plus, she color-coordinated her own houndstooth pantsuit with your pink houndstooth skirt/blazer combo, so really, you should send her a fruit basket or something. Maybe cookies.

The point remains that your boyfriend hasn’t responded to any of your borderline pornographic selfies or the very pointed videos of you holding various sex toys and asking if it would fit. You’re at your wit’s end, and you were really hoping that it would truly get through to him this time that you want nothing more than to be railed against the mattress so hard that you cry.

You’re a simple girl, after all.

But no! He’s got that sweet smile on his face as you carry your shopping bags in one hand and your purse in the other, carefully sidestepping the cosmos he’d just planted the other day so you wouldn’t step all over his hard work. His smile widens when you reach the door, and he presses a sweet, gentle kiss against your forehead that has you on the verge of tears.

He waves again to your best friend as she drives off, and as usual snags your shopping bags out of your hand so he can place them beside the door. You’ve already pulled your blazer off to hang in the entryway closet by the time he’s shut the door, and you gasp as you’re jerked back. His hands are on either side of your head, braced against the front door like it’s the only thing keeping him up, and you struggle to focus on anything that isn’t the way his muscles flex.

“Do you have any idea what today was like for me?” He growls. The sound of it brings heat between your thighs, and you resist the urge to cheer.

“Sorry, should I not have sent you any selfies today?” You ask, keeping your voice as light and innocent as you can. He makes eye contact with you; there’s a fire in his eyes you haven’t seen in what feels like forever. “Did you not like them?”

“You know damn well what I thought of them,” he mutters, one hand coming down to rest on your hip. “I’ve tried so hard lately, y’know? The tiny shorts with your ass hanging out, the shirts that show everything when you bend over. God, the bending.”

“Really?” You breathe. It’s always exhilarating to know that you’re desired, but this is nearly heady. He fixes his gaze on you, eyes burning, and your smile softens slightly.

“I was trying,” he says, clearly holding himself back, “To be a good boyfriend. To make sure that you know that I want more from you than just sex, and that I value you as more than just someone attractive. I was trying so hard to prove that you– that we have more between us than that. That I respect you more than that.”

“So don’t respect me.” You say it like it’s obvious, because it is. You’ve been laying down signals galore the past few weeks, and clearly he did not get the memo.

“I’m always going to respect you,” he says instead, sighing slightly as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to disrespect you, you’re worth more than that. But fuck, all I wanna do is fuck you stupid right now.”

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks and now you might finally - finally - get it. “Disrespect me, daddy.”

The hand on your hip tightens, no doubt bruising the skin, and you gasp at the feeling. Hyunwoo makes eye contact - just long enough to make sure that you’re on board for whatever it is he’s about to do.

He could probably suggest a number of things that you’ve never considered and you’d say yes, at this point - you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re desperate.

The hand on your hips lowers - he traces all the way down your thigh and to the back of your knee before travelling back up, this time under your skirt. He kisses you as he does it - long, heated kisses that make your head spin so perfectly that you don’t know what he’s doing until he glides a finger across your clothed core.

You gasp into the kiss, but it doesn’t deter him. He pulls down, kissing and biting down your jaw to your neck as his fingers trace over you once more. You can feel him smile against your skin.

“You’re already soaked,” he tuts. “You’ve ruined this pair, princess. How naughty of you. Would you like daddy to take them off?”

“Yes!” You moan as his fingers ghost over your folds once more.

“Yes what?” He asks, and you could cry with how much you want him.

“Yes, daddy,” you tell him, and he smiles once more. It’s blinding, how bright he is when he smiles like that, and for a second you’re breathless. Then you feel them - his hands, burning a trail along your thigh to tug at the band of your underwear. It only takes him a few seconds to pull them down as he bends, and he kisses your thigh as he brings one of your legs up so he can slide them off completely.

He was right - they are ruined, the evidence of your arousal immediately apparent by the large wet spot in the center. He doesn’t bother to slide them off your other leg, though - just lets them hang from your ankle, no doubt as a reminder of how strongly he affects you.

He presses kisses to every bit of skin he can as he stands fully upright once more, suckling a mark into your collarbone that you’ll absolutely cherish when you have to cover it up before work tomorrow.

His hands don’t leave your thighs - warm and strong and utterly distracting, you can’t take your mind off them as he kisses you again, heady and intoxicating. You feel it as one hand travels back underneath your skirt again, gliding between your thighs.

A moan sticks in your throat as his fingers slide in between your folds - the feeling of them teasing against your hole before they move to rub light circles into your clit is nearly too much to handle.

“Hyunwoo, please–”

“Patience,” he interrupts. You can hear the smile in his voice as he slides over your hole once more, spreading your arousal across your lips before teasing your clit again. “Good girls have patience, right, princess?”

You whimper, hips arching off the door to try to guide his finger inside of you. It’s a futile attempt - he just returns to the slow, infuriating circles on your clit, and you would cry if it didn’t feel as good as it does.

It could be hours or it could be seconds that he continues this pattern - slow, maddening circles on your clit, then the slightest bit of a tease at your hole, just enough to make you think that maybe he’ll fuck you with his fingers, before he returns to the circles. It’s enough to make a stronger woman cry, and you can’t help the whines that you let out when he once again deprives you of the fuck you so desperately want.

“Please just fuck me,” you finally break, hands moving from where they’re wrapped around his neck to circle his waist and do your best to pull him in closer. You can feel him against your thigh, warm and thick and big, and you want him.

He hisses when you grind against him, and the one hand that remains on your hip tightens ever so slightly. “You’re being very bad, princess,” he chastises, but you couldn’t care less. Your mind is focused on the memory of what he felt like inside you, and you’re ready to burst with need.

“I don’t care,” you tell him firmly, hands sliding up under his shirt to run your nails against his muscled torso. “I don’t care, I need you, please, I just want–”

“I know,” he cuts you off. His hands disappear from you entirely, but only for a moment - before you know it, two large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding yours out of his shirt. You can't stop whimpering, caught between the memory of the last time he was between your thighs and the reality of his lips against your skin.

Hyunwoo drops - he hits the wooden floor with a muffled thud, and before you can even react, his hands are underneath your skirt. He pushes it upwards, muttering something almost reverent about thighs as he does, and then he’s pressing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. His hands don’t stop, though - they keep going, shoving your skirt up until it pools around your waist.

“H-Hyunwoo—”

“Ssh,” he whispers, giving your thigh a light bite. A heartbeat later and you can feel his warm breath against your folds. “You wanted to feel good, right?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe, hands instinctively tangling in his soft brown hair.

“Then be a good slut for me, and stay still while I make you feel good."

You stifle a whimper - he knows what his words do to you, and you jolt as his tongue gently nudges against your folds. There's no stopping the soft sigh that falls from your lips as he delves deeper, ghosting across your swollen clit to nudge against your hole. He's tentative, teasing with his movements - he likes to make you wait, tease you until you're grinding against his mouth.

You doubt this will be an exception.

A moan is thrust out of you as you feel your hole stretch slightly. Not much, not far - just enough to accommodate him as he fucks your hole with his tongue. It's just the right side of unsatisfying - you're aching, absolutely dripping for him, and this is just enough to whet your appetite and make you hungry for more.

You can feel his smile against you, and you already know what's coming - still, it's disappointing when he pulls his tongue out. You whine, unashamed of how you must sound or how loud you may be, and he chuckles.

"Patience, baby girl," he breathes. Warm air flows over you, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. His tongue shifts again, lapping at your clit for long enough that you think you may cum before he stops to draw mind-numbing circles around it instead.

Time bends around the two of you - it always does when he's between your thighs like this, when he's teasing and deliberate with every swipe of his tongue against you, every press of him against your hole. He edges you for so long; slow circles around your clit turn to quick thrusts inside of you that shift into laps against your hole that drag upward, just barely catching your clit before they stop.

You're sure there would be a puddle on the floor were it not for his dedication. The entire house is filled with the sounds of his mouth against you, only drowned out by the sound of your cries as he begins to suck on your clit.

Your knees quake on either side of his head, and he doesn't hesitate to bring his hands up behind your thighs. Without a second thought, he lifts - not even pausing in his mission, tongue still thrusting into you at an almost absurd rate - and then your thighs are resting atop his shoulders. You gasp, both in shock and in pleasure as he lets his teeth graze ever so lightly against that bundle of nerves.

This isn't the first time he's done this - put you on his shoulders and left you there while he eats you out within an inch of your life - but it's the first time in a long time, and it has you seeing stars as one of your hands stays tangled in his hair and the other is braced against the wall beside you.

"Hyunwoo, please–" You beg, but you can't catch your breath long enough between moans to say anything more. He sucks again, the flat of his tongue gliding over your clit as it's pulled into his mouth once more, and your vision goes white. Your knees quake, and you're sure that if you had been standing, you wouldn't be anymore.

"That's my girl," Hyunwoo praises after he's done cleaning up your cum. When you can see again, you realize he's set you down on the floor and is slowly massaging your thighs.

"Hyun, I....please....can you–"

"You want me to fuck you stupid, baby?" He asks. His tone is a little patronizing, but that's okay, because it only serves to turn you on more. "Does my sweet little whore need my cock in her?"

"Yes, please," you whimper, hips tilting upwards against nothing of their own accord.

Hyunwoo stands and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweats. A few moments later he's pulled them down just enough to free himself. Your mouth drops open slightly when you finally lay eyes on him - you know he's big. You know that he is big, you've had his entire length inside of you several times now and you've felt it for days after each time, but it still never fails to shock you.

Because he is big. Thick, so thick you can hardly wrap your entire fist around him, and long, with the perfect curve that hits that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. His dick is nearly as perfect as he is, and that is a very high bar.

It's also so hard that you can see it throbbing, jumping every so often as his muscles tense.

"You want me to make you come with my cock, right, baby?" He asks, once again using that patronizing tone that makes heat creep across your cheeks.

You nod.

"Then you're going to have to ask nicely, aren't you?" He prods.

"Please, daddy," you say without hesitation, "Please fuck me, I want you to make me cum so hard that I cry, I want to be a good slut for you."

"Very good, baby," he praises. "Now I want you to prove that you mean it. Can you be a good little whore and suck my cock?"

You lean forward, not even bothering to use your hands because your bones still feel like jelly. You run your tongue across the tip of him, giving small kitten licks to the slit just how he likes. A groan rumbles through him, and he lets out a soft gasp as you slip your tongue down to wet the shaft as well.

"Fuck, princess," he moans, "I think you've gotten even better at this."

Encouraged, you let your mouth hang open– just barely wide enough to get your lips around the shaft– and let your tongue rest on your spit-slick lips. You glance up long enough to see that Hyunwoo's eyes are blown wide with his desire before you mouth sloppily down his dick. It's messy and would probably be disgusting if it were anyone but the two of you and Hyunwoo didn't have that look in his eyes that promises you'll remember tonight for several weeks.

His hands move, one adjusting his grip on the doorframe as you suck the head of his cock between your lips while the other comes down to grip one of the two buns you put your hair in that morning. He tugs - not hard, not yet, but firmly enough that it stings slightly and makes you keen.

"If you're going to make a mess, don't you think you should clean it up?" He asks. You lift a brow and he grins. "Clearly you're not that tired if you still have an attitude."

"No," you whine, "I am tired, my bones are basically nonexistent right now thanks to you."

The hand in your hair loosens slightly, and Hyunwoo tuts. "I have to do all the work, huh? Then get on your knees for me, baby girl, so I can use you like a good toy."

You rush to comply, and only wince a bit at the feeling of the cold floor against your knees. His hand stays where it is the entire time you're moving, but he waits until you're sitting still, legs folded under you and giving you that extra bit of height you'll need.

"Let me know if it's too much," Hyunwoo commands, and you nod. His eyes darken, slightly, and he runs his thumb along your jaw. "What's the signal?"

"Two taps on your thigh," You tell him, not for the first time. He's always so careful beforehand, and while you appreciate just how much he cares about you, you also are sick of just staring at his cock, and your mouth is beginning to water.

Hyunwoo coos slightly, and the hand in your hair shifts to guide rather than just anchor. "You're always so good for me," he mutters as he slides the tip past your lips. "Always such a good little slut."

You don't stop the whimper that escapes your throat – he loves them, and you know it. Your mouth is lax, nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he sees fit, and there's the slightest twinge of complaint as your jaw begins to stretch.

You ignore it, determined to get as much of him as possible this time. You've practiced for this, nearly every day, since the last time and you're not stopping until you beat your record.

Hyunwoo sighs as he hits the back of your throat. "God, you're perfect," he mutters as he begins to slide back out. You let your jaw relax a bit as he does, and when just the tip rests on your tongue, you give it a small kiss, just because you can.

Hyunwoo smiles, gaze softening for a split second. "Hands in position, baby girl," he reminds you, and you do as he says – one hand on back of each of his thighs, so you can tap out if you need to.

Also so you can feel those incredible muscles flex as he starts shallow thrusts, rippling and tensing under your fingers. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied, you'd bite them.

Hyunwoo continues carefully, testing just how much of himself can fit before you start to gag on his length….and just how long you can choke before you really start to need air.

He pulls back before you even need to tap out, always careful to keep an eye on you for any warning signs. He slides back in and waits until he hits the back of your throat again, pushing slightly further, and just as he's about to begin pulling back out, you look up at him with wide eyes.

You know you look like a mess; drool gathering on your lips because your mouth is too full to hold it, tears streaming down your cheeks from your attempts to stop gagging. Hyunwoo loves it when you look ruined like this, adores taking your perfectly crafted image and crumbling it to pieces in his hands.

So it's no surprise when he lets out a low moan, or when he lets himself slip a little further down your throat. This is as far as he's ever gotten and you want him to know how good you are, how hard you've been practicing with the toys underneath your bed. He slides out, precum dripping onto your tongue as he does, and you bat your lashes at him.

"Use me," you tell him. "Use me like the toy that I am for you, Daddy." Something darkens in his eyes and he doesn't hesitate to thrust back in.

Your eyes water with the force of it and you don't stop the moan that escapes you as he slides deeper down your throat than he's ever been before. There's still a couple inches left before he'd be fully sheathed, but Hyunwoo doesn't even seem to notice as he pulls out just to thrust back in.

Neither of you are quiet — you can barely hear the wet squelch of your mouth. It's drowned out by the moans he draws from you, which in turn pull moans from him between the words he growls out.

"God, you're so perfect," he mutters as he fucks your throat with abandon. "The perfect angel slut, so good at getting throatfucked, just made for my cock no matter where it goes, huh? You're such a good whore, you're probably fucking soaked just from my dick in your mouth, aren't you?"

You whimper around him and he speeds up, relentless; he's not wrong either — you are soaked, can feel it between your thighs as your hips rock fruitlessly against empty air.

"Oh, look at you," Hyunwoo coos, "So desperate to be fucked while sucking me off. Maybe one day I'll get one of your buddies over here to fuck your throat while you ride my cock, since you're so desperate to get used like a good slut. But I don't even think that'll be enough, will it? Because they won't be me." He thrusts a little deeper, a little rougher, and you aren't sure if the noises you're making are as loud as they seem to you but either way, they only serve to egg him on.

"No," Hyunwoo continues, "They won't be Daddy, will they? They won't be able to get this deep in your throat, won't be able to fuck you like this. And you know why? Because this is my hole." He punctuates the sentence with a sharp thrust and you squeeze the backs of his thighs to show your agreement. "You're my perfect slut. My good little whore. Isn't that right, baby girl?"

You squeeze the backs of his thighs again, but it isn't enough. He stills, still buried nearly to the hilt inside you, and cocks a brow.

"Well? Aren't you my perfect whore?" Your face flames, heat burning in your cheeks. Your jaw aches from being stretched for so long, there spit and precum dripping down your chin and you can feel him throbbing in your throat.

And Hyunwoo looks expectant. He wants to hear you agree with him, wants you to remind yourself of this fact.

You don't even blink when he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. You can't see what he does, but based on how he angles it and the shallow thrusts he gives without looking away from the screen, you can guess.

"Aw, is my baby girl getting shy now?" He teases as you make eye contact with the lens and feel your face heat up. "Don't even worry about it, baby. I just wanna remember how fucking perfect you look right now forever. My perfect cocksucking slut."

You whimper, pussy clenching around nothing and you're overcome with a sudden need to feel him inside you.

"Are you gonna be a good slut now?" Hyunwoo continues, still recording. "Are you daddy's good slut?" You nod and can't stop the reflexive swallow as he goes even deeper. Hyunwoo groans at the feeling and you can see his grip on his phone tighten for a moment.

"Say it," he commands when his eyes open once more. "I want to hear you say it."

" 'm 'a'y's 'er'ec' 'ore," you moan. It doesn't even sound like words, at this point, but when you look back up at him with wide eyes. Hyunwoo looks proud.

"You absolutely are," he whispers. He hits a button and then pockets his phone again. He slides carefully out of your mouth and casually strokes his cock with one hand as he wipes spit from your face with the other. "I think you've been a perfect angel, baby girl, so you've earned your reward. Where would you like it?"

"Bed, please, Daddy." Your voice is hoarse and scratchy, but you don't care, and Hyunwoo doesn't seem to either as he pulls his sweats up and then bends. The world spins for a moment and then steadies, and you realize he's got you in his arms. Hyunwoo carries you like a princess towards the room you share, and tosses you on the bed without hesitation.

Your eyes widen as he starts to strip out of his clothes, and you can't deny that you enjoy the show. The torso of muscles all rippling, the golden skin all shining, the desire in his eyes. Then the sweats — they hit the ground with a thud and you idly hope his phone is alright before you remember there are more important things right now.

He is, unsurprisingly, still hard — almost painfully so, a deep swollen pink at the head and jumping every so often. The vein running up the underside is throbbing, and you can actually feel yourself get wetter with anticipation.

One knee rests on the mattress, then the other, and Hyunwoo is crawling towards you on his hands and knees, and you can see every muscle as it shifts and fuck you love this man.

"I love you," you tell him, not for the first time. He breaks for a second, a bright smile taking over his face.

"I love you," he replies, pressing a kiss to your thigh. "Can we take those clothes off now, baby, because as great as you look, you're even better naked."

Breath catches in your throat and you nod. Hyunwoo is almost reverent as his hands glide up your thighs and is exceedingly gentle as he slides down the zipper and then the skirt itself. He smiles again, almost shy, and you can't help but marvel at the fact that this is the same man who bad you gagging on his dick not five minutes ago.

He leans in and gently nudges your nose with his, but when you lean forward to kiss him, he backs away with a playful grin. His warm hand rests on your waist and he leans in again only to dart back when you try to kiss him — not far, though. He's still close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath mix with yours, but it's still infuriating.

You pout at him, and his smile just grows. "What is it?" He asks, teasing. "What do you want?" His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and it nearly breaks you.

"You," You whine. "I want you."

"You have me." He leans forward then, capturing your lips with an intensity you haven't seen in a long time. His mouth moves against yours and it's firm, commanding, and absolutely intoxicating as he pulls back just to lightly bite your lips. It's not rough, not really, but it's fiery and exciting and everything you've wanted.

He presses closer, nimble fingers undoing the buttons of your blouse in what seems like an instant. Warm hands cross your spine and then your bra is gone, too. His skin seems to meld to yours, hands moving everywhere as he lays you back.

Your breath hitches when you feel him against your entrance and he smiles into the bruise he's sucking into your throat.

"You're so fucking wet, baby," he breathes as his tip teases against your entrance. "You're always so wet for me, so ready to be fucked. Just a perfect fucking whore, huh?" He slides in then, but only a bit. Just like before, it's just barely enough for you to feel him stretching you out. Just a tease of what's to come.

"Hyunwoo," you whine. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he chuckles.

"What is it? You want more?" He slides in further, but just a centimeter. You whine again, pushing your hips up against his to try to push him deeper. You can feel yourself throbbing, aching, for him, and you're tired of being teased. You want to be full.

You tell him as much, watching his pupils dilate with every word until there's hardly any iris left to be seen.

"Is that so?" He mutters, almost to himself. "Well, your wish is my command." He slides in, slowly, but this time he doesn't stop. He just keeps going and going and going, until you can feel him at your cervix. It stings – you're stretched so far, and he's so deep inside – but you relish it.

"Beautiful," Hyunwoo mutters as he begins to slide back out, inch by agonizing inch. You whimper as the tip nearly slides out, too, and your hips lift of their own accord. Hyunwoo takes the hint and pushes back in; he creates a rhythm, one so slow, so maddening, that you're on the verge of tears as you whine and whimper underneath him.

He notices your frustration, pulls himself away from lazily mouthing at your nipples, and hums.

"What's wrong, baby? You aren't satisfied yet?" He gives you that Boy-Next-Door grin that you know hides a demon behind it. "Are you going to ask nicely again? Tell me no one fills you up like I do and beg me to fuck you the way you want? You look so pretty when you beg."

Any other time, you wouldn't. You would at least hesitate, make him work a little harder for your pleas. But you're desperate and frustrated and have no shame, so you don't hesitate.

"Please, Daddy," you beg, letting your legs fall open and arching your back so his eyes drop lower and lower. "Please, Daddy, no one can fill this pussy like you do, no one can fuck my holes like you. Pl–please," you moan as he slides entirely inside once more, "Please fuck me right, make me come on your cock, I wan– wanna be fucked stupid, want you to– to fuck me stupid, please, wanna be Daddy's perfect slut, pl– Ah!"

You can't help your surprised gasp as Hyunwoo flips you onto your stomach with a low growl.

Warmth drapes along your back as you rise up, palms splayed across the sheets and elbows locked to keep you upright; his skin is sweat-slick and heated against your own, and a shiver runs down your spine when he pauses to runs his teeth along the lobe of your ear.

"You are the best part of my life," he announces.

Butterflies explode in your belly a split second before he slides out of you.

"And I'm gonna make you cum so hard that you'll never forget that fact."

"Hyunwo— Oh!"

He thrusts into you with enough force to toss you into the headboard, had he not planted one hand firmly on your hip and had the other curled around your breast to tease your nipple.

"You like that?" Hyunwoo asks with a smile in his voice. He repeats the movement and you clench around him as you gasp out a moan. It's all you can do to nod and he flicks your nipple in response. "Good."

He lifts up, both hands now holding you steady by an iron grip on your hips, and readjusts his legs so yours are spread slightly wider. Your arms are trembling but you pay them no mind.

Until Hyunwoo thrusts forward, pulling back just as quickly only to bury himself again, a heartbeat later. His pace is absolutely merciless; the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room, mixing beautifully with the wet slide as he shoves back in and the rough, throat moans that he pulls from you. Your vision swims, and you can't concentrate on anything else as he gives you the fucking that's been haunting your dreams every night.

He adjusts his grip, one hand moving to sit firmly on the small of your back and press you down just a bit. The angle shifts – not much, but enough that the next time he pounds into you, he thrusts right up against that spot that makes your toes curl.

You cry out, vision going white as he hits it again, and again, and again, absolutely ruthless in his mission. Your muscles go weak, biceps twitching as they give out, and then you're face down in the mattress. Hyunwoo doesn't hesitate, just ghosts his palm down to rest between your shoulders and keep you in place.

He might be talking – you certainly think you hear the low tones of his voice as he speaks to you, but you can't make out words. It's too much work, too many syllables, too much effort to try to work past the haze that blankets your mind. You can still feel him, pumping in and out of your gushing pussy — the stretch barely stings anymore, and he throbs inside of you. Each thrust is still perfectly angled to hit that mind-numbing place that keeps you from doing anything more than screeching his name.

He slows, immediately switching from speed to power as he manages to put even more force behind his hips. The hand in your back moves, as does the one on your hip and then you're rising.

A warm palm across your throat – not choking, just keeping you in place while the other traces along your spread thigh.

There are words – something your brain is too fried to make out, and then a rumble that vibrates through you. A laugh. His thrusts get a little faster as he fucks up into you, and you're dimly aware of his fingers slipping between your folds.

Someone screams — no, not someone. You. You scream, something so loud and provocative that it can't even be called a moan anymore, as he begins to rub circles around your clit. Orgasms rock through you, every part of your body going boneless even as you shake from the force of it. It's impossible to tell when it stops, if it stops – the aftershocks are strong and he still hasn't stopped fucking you, though he's slower and gentler now, letting you ride it out on his cock.

"……perfect for me, " you hear him whisper as you're senses come back. "Absolutely perfect, an amazing fucking— just divine, you are."

"Hyun," you manage, and it's no shock that you sound absolutely wrecked. "D– Daddy."

"I'm here, baby girl," he mutters, "What do you need?"

"You," You respond instantly. "Want you, wanna fee– feel it, want you to fill me, please, in– ah, inside, want you dripping ou–" You're cut off once more as your body heaves with yet another aftershock, clenching around his hard length again.

"Whatever you want, baby," he promises. "Can you come once more for me, baby girl? Just one more time so we can come together?"

"Mm…." You pause, taking the best inventory you can as your muscles jolt again. You consider lying to him, or just omitting this, because you know he'll never stop reminding you of it, but decide against it. Instead, you quietly admit, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. Within moments, you can feel his thrusts turn more erratic, more frenzied, and then you're impossibly fuller even as something warm drips down the inside of your thigh.

He's gentle as he lays you down on the bedspread, exceedingly so as he pulls his softening cock out of you. His weight disappears from the bed for a few minutes that seem to stretch into hours, and then the mattress dips, and his soft smile appears once more.

"Here sweetheart, drink this." He hands you a familiar cup and when you take a sip, the water is cool and refreshing. Wet warmth, surprising but pleasant, glides along your inner thigh and you look down to see him cleaning you up.

"Mm, this is quite possibly the perfect view," you tease, wagging your brows as you make a show of checking out his muscular arms. It makes him laugh, the soft one that's just for when you're being ridiculous.

"Drunk your water, you menace," he commands as he continues to wipe. "You're gonna need to replenish your fluids, after all that." He looks pointedly towards the bed and you follow his gaze, face heating when your eyes land on the rather sizable wet spot staining the sheets.

"Whoops?" You offer. When you look back at him, he only looks fond.

"Don't even start, it was hot. Besides, they needed to be put in the wash anyway. I'll start them after you get into the bath." He gives over you, taking kisses along every piece of skin he can until he reaches your lips. You can't help the way your breath catches – even after all this time, he manages to make you breathless over the smallest things.

He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and nose, and everywhere else until you're giggling and trying to turn away from him. Unfortunately, with his arms on either side of you, you're fairly well trapped, so you settle for fucking your head into his neck instead.

You pause. Sniff again. Back up. He looks sheepish, like he already knows what you're going to say.

"We were out of the fancy stuff—" He tries, but you don't let him.

"You used that 3-in-1 shit again?" You demand. "Actual body wash isn't even fancy, it's what normal people use! That's it, you're coming into the bath with me after you start the laundry so that I can make sure you didn't use it in your hair, too."

He smiles again, though you have a sneaking suspicion that he's just humoring you when he nods and says, "Whatever you want."

#shownu smut #shownu x reader #reader insert #dddaenggtan

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an-angel-in-the-garden · 3 years

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Hello I was wondering if you could do a male reader x feral shadow wraith any thing works but please can reader also be a photographer like wanting to take photos of his wairth! Thank you

Male Monster x Male Reader

This took me so long and I'm sorry for that. I got two ask with wraiths one wanted dating headcanons with just a wraith of any kind and had no preference for gender so I'm mixing them with a fic about a male reader meeting a feral wraith and a second part with the dating headcanons for said wraith because this became so long hope you enjoy! CW: Cursing and when letters look like this its for thinking and this is the monster

It had all started with a job offer one that would send me to a small town within some mountains. Though it was nearing winter the pay along with the amazing sights I would be able to see made it to good to pass up so with a contract signed I got ready to set off for two weeks of hopefully blissful work. The first few days after arriving wasn't to bad the town had a nice cabin that could be rented out the stores had good products to buy and the people were welcoming, even telling me some places that would be great for my photography. After settling in and looking over the maps and walking paths of the mountain I asked one of the people I had seen walking the trail each day for some help.

" So I haven't seen one on the maps but I was told there was a small waterfall and lake on the mountain" I handed him the grainy photo I had been given" The man who payed me wanted me to take a better picture of this but I'm not sure how to get there." The man hummed taking the picture from me and looked at it for a moment " Well I've never seen it while walking but from the looks of this its not on the mountain its at the base" He smiles handing me back the print." You could ask Marie she gathers plants and the like from the base of the mountain she might have been there! I nodded, talking with him for a few more minutes before taking my leave hoping to catch Marie before she started work for the day.

I got lucky managing to speak with her about the photo and seeing if she knew about the area I was looking for. After walking with her to her shop Marie told me that she had in fact seen something like this before and if I was up for it could take me tomorrow, I agreed letting her know that I would see her the next day. We met right as the sun began to rise and the morning air was cold enough it seeped through my layered clothes. It was then I met Steven a man who headed down the mountain during the sunrise and came back to town once it set it seemed he would be the one taking us down. The ride was mostly quiet with small bouts of chatter every once and a while about both the town and places I've been before we would settle into the silence enjoying the view.

We arrived at the edge of a forest tall trees spanning who knows how far and looking full of life." I tend to take the main path when I'm looking for certain plant life but" Marie trails pulling a small parchment from her bag" since your looking for a lake we need to travel off it" "That's fine with me but hey Steven" He looks over at me" Would it be ok to leave those two bags in your truck I wont need them till tonight" Yeah sure no problem I'll be back right before sun down so just meet back up here" He laugh's" Not like I need to worry Marie wont let you get lost. I chuckle thanking him before taking my equipment bag out and grabbing my camera for if I saw something nice on our walk. Marie and Steven talked a little more while I looked around it was then I thought I saw something; quick and dark it rushed past the trees startling some rabbits that had been by one of them. " Is there something we need to worry about while were out here" Hmm not anything to bad most the animals can be scared off why" Just wondering" I turned back hoping to catch a glimpse of what it could have been.

Marie nodded before patting my back slightly moving past me to start walking down our off road path. It took maybe an hour or two for us to reach it. The large open body of water at the base of the mountain, from above cascading down the rocks was a brilliant waterfall the grass though slightly covered in a thin layer of frost still housed some wonderful flowers and plant life and I knew I would spend however long it took to get the perfect photo here. It seemed Marie could tell what I was thinking as she spoke up" I guess you like it!" yeah..yeah its so beautiful here" Well if you need me to bring you back here just let me know" I set my bag down on a smooth looking rock turning and giving her my full attention" I'm really grateful that you were willing to bring me Ill just stay around here so please let me know if you need help with anything" She just smiles giving me a wave before heading back the way we came with the promise she would be back when we needed to meet with Steven.

I was there for hours taking photos of wild life plants and the likes but no matter hard I tried to focus on just my work I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. No matter how much I pushed it away "I'm in the wild its normal to feel watched" I looked around signing before setting up for another picture 'But was that really the only reason' I shuddered upon hearing a branch break near me. It took me several try's before I got some photos I would be happy to show my client but I knew I would save some of these for myself already and after that I took a break. Pulling some food I had packed out of the backpack I ate letting the sounds of the waterfall and nature soothe me. I hadn't realized I had even fallen asleep but the feeling of something cold and heavy covering me is what caused me to awake. Something unknown dripping on my skin and pressing slightly on my chest I startled opening my eyes and bringing my hands up to push whatever it was from atop me yet when my eyes adjusted there was nothing. My breathing was heavy and the feeling of sweat on me was more noticeable then ever but nothing was out of place and I was fine " Y/N!" I heard Marie call out the sun was beginning to set" Right we have to meet back up" I packed my things in a hurry looking around the open area for anything and when it came up blank I sighed and headed to the opening.

" Well how was it" Steven ask as I reach the clearing" Mostly good I still need the main picture but with any luck I can get it tonight and start any editing he might want" Tonight! you plan on staying here tonight" Marie asked voice laced with worry'' Hmm yeah the other bags have my camping gear, dont worry I'll only stay in that spot and I dont plan on taking anything". I said heading over to the truck to get my bags" He'll be fine I'll make sure to pick him up in the morning' But dont you work" Marie cut in before I could say anything it seemed she really didn't like the idea of me out here" I'm sure he wont mind coming to town with me right" Oh um what town?" I only knew of the one on the mountain." Its a larger one past the forest you take a side road to find it plenty to do there" But what if.." Ill be okay thank you for your worry but I've done this before I wont do anything risky" She finally nods patting my shoulder again and telling me to be safe before getting in the truck. Steven gives me a thumb's up wishing me luck on getting the photo and with that their off heading back up the mountain as I head to the lake hoping what I felt was just a dream.

The nights were much colder but wrapped in extra jackets and laying in my tent with my camera set and ready I waited in hopes of seeing the moon light up the clear water. I could still hear the other animals around me but the feeling of being watched was no longer present "Maybe I was just being paranoid" Honestly this wasn't so bad it might be colder then I would like but the view and sounds were so mesmerizing that it made it more then worth it I really wouldn't mind spending my weeks out here for this photo alone. I didn't know how much time had past but I felt it again, the feeling of being watched like something was lurking right outside my vision maybe it was the drowsiness or maybe it was the fact that I needed to know I wasn't imagination it but with a shaky voice I called out.

" Look I dont know whether you're an animal or not but I just need to know if something is or isn't there okay!" Though nervous of what might be lurking I stilled raised my voice" It might just be an animal Marie said plenty are out here" you can see me" I moved my equipment into my tent as fast as I could pulling my body all the way and zipping it up my breathing was heavy and my heart was pounding in my ears when the area went quite. "You saw me" The voice was a harsh deep growl sounding loud yet distant but all encompassing just the sound made me feel like I couldn't breath. Against my better judgment I answered back "It already knows I'm here why bother staying quiet"

" s-So what if I did?!" Good...." as it spoke a shadow approached my tent, Larger then any human or animal it slowly crawled? over looking hunched while tilting what I think was its head to stared at the closed tent. "OUT" the voice was louder now echoing through the trees as the beast raised its body. Though shaking I moved forward opening the tent still staying inside. "WHAT THE FUCK" My voice broke body shaking worse then before as I took in the creature before me. Towering over me was nothing but blackness like spilled ink dripping down from above it sat? stood? just watching me pure white eyes unblinking and mouth colored red from something.

The beast seemed unfazed by my raised voice or what I said it simply lowered its head a long tongue falling from its stained mouth before wrapping around my throat it was cold and rough the goo that covered its body was dripping on me and my vision became hazy. All I remember after that was the sound of purring and the feeling of being carried.

Okay okay that it for now I will very soon make the part two with headcanons of the after and dating of the monster! This wasn't meant to be this long but I got carried away so I dont want to make this any longer by adding more it might also not be edited super well but I tried to catch any major mistakes! I hope you liked this part and look forward to more! - Lilly

#monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster oc #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #monster x human #male reader

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chronically-autistic-dinosaur · 2 years

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I’m straight up not even editing these because they deserve to have their usernames shown. There’s a few with decency and common sense, but to blame a 23 year old’s career choice as the reason for his mental health issues is 💩.

1. NO ONE knows what he’s going through. Only Shawn does. Just because he appears ok on stage or in his IG photos, doesn’t mean he’s ok. It’s easy to fake being ok and happy. I can look happy in the outside, yet be fighting demons inside.

2. Saying this is a PR stunt is 💩. What does Shawn gain by faking being mentally ill? Something he has publicly spoken out about in the past?

3. He’s not being an “entitled rock star.” He’s taking care of himself. Something any NORMAL should do. He’s still a human being. He still goes through stuff. Being a musician does not change that.

4. Yes, it sucks that people bought tickets for tonight’s show and upcoming shows and now they may not be able to go to a new date. But good God, you make it seem like it’s all Shawn’s fault that he had a mental health breakdown. It’s not like he planned for this to happen. Get your parties out of a knot and have some sympathy for once.

5. His breakup with Camilla might be a part of this. But let’s not blame it entirely on that. Maybe he hasn’t quite gotten over the breakup and performing certain songs brings up memories. I don’t know. I’m not Shawn.

6. None of us are privy to the contract he signed. It’s quite possible it says he can cancel, postpone, etc tour dates when he wants for any reason at all. Also just because he was able to heavily tour prior to COVID (2-3 days with 1 day off) doesn’t mean he’s able to do that now. Maybe he thought he could. Don’t blame him for that. He’s not being “a baby.”

7. Not to armchair diagnose, but Shawn’s 23. The prime age for most mental disorders (aside from anxiety disorders) to manifest. He could have undiagnosed bipolar disorder. But yes, let’s belittle the guy for taking time for himself and getting his mental health in order. Wouldn’t want him to get the help he needs if he is in fact bipolar, right? Personally, I’d rather he did.

Anxiety and anxiety disorders are a disease and are just as serious as any physical illness. If he had come out and said he had COVID, comments would be different. But because it’s a mental illness and YOU can’t see it, you don’t think it’s serious or real and that he’s just trying to get out of touring. Like holy 💩 people.

Obviously he is going through some stuff. Would you rather wake up tomorrow and read that Shawn Mendes killed himself due to mental illness? Then you’d really be wishing he had taken time off for himself. Get your heads out of your butts and stop thinking about yourself.

SHAWN’S health takes priority over everything. HIS mental well-being supersedes you seeing him in concert. Let him heal. Let him get the help he needs-whether that’s therapy or medication or whatever. But don’t sit behind your computer screen and judge a 23 year old for making a decision that MOST won’t. He could’ve continued touring just to please you. He would have continued to deteriorate until it was too late and you all would have been like “oh noes. Why didn’t he take a break? We wouldn’t have been mad. His health is important.” Just stfu and gtfo.

I have anxiety to the point where I have to be medicated and I barely leave my house. I’ve had to miss work because of it. I’ve left my bosses and coworkers without a courtesy clerk because of my anxiety. Believe me when I say that it sucks. I can’t imagine being an artist and bouncing around from city to city and how mentally draining the whole touring process must be.

I’m not even a diehard fan. I know a handful of songs...and only 3 from beginning to end. Don’t come at me and say that I’m just defending him because I’m a big fan. No no no. I’m defending him because he’s human. I’m defending him because he is going through stuff…he has an anxiety disorder. How do we know he didn’t have some sort of psychotic episode? I’m defending him because I HAVE BEEN WHERE HE’S BEEN. I HAVE STOOD WHERE HE’S STOOD. I‘VE HIT MY BREAKING POINT. I’m defending him because until you have had to deal with an anxiety disorder (and not just run of the mill anxiety), you have NO right to judge someone.

Okay. I think I’m done now 😅😂

#my post #mental illness #mental health #shawn mendes #holy crap people are jerks #instagram comments #venting

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korissideblog · 3 years

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So! I decided I wanted to info dump about my bby, and I’m gonna do it here. Consider this a living document, cause ill be editing new questions and answers as they come in <3 if you have any more questions just comment them (or ask on anon if you want, I’ll answer both here and there)

Question from: @bobittybob20276

while Aito tries to train like the rest of her classmates (though sparring) his quirk really isn’t a fighting quirk, so yeah, most of her training happens out in the wild. He mostly trains on his classmates and teachers, but will occasionally go out of the school and try to charm random people she bumps into ;) . she continues his training after graduation, and keeps getting better and better the longer she’s in the field.

Question by: @zedthebuggy

kinda a tough question here, lemme try to explain how Aito’s quirk works; so pretty much it’s not really Aito’s gaze that makes it work, like his pupil doesn’t have to be trained on someone. His quirk works through her iris (the yellow bit). it looks normal most of the time, but when being used, it becomes wildly complicated, confusing the eye of her target and scrambling their brain a bit. pretty much, the brain normally simplifies everything so our eyes can kinda take shortcuts and let us quickly take in as much info as possible, but Aito’s irises are so overly complicated that the target’s brain is forced to focus excessively on them to keep up, making them very suggestible. that’s why Aito has to speak his commands, so that the target’s brain confuses Aito‘s voice for it’s own command (and also why the target won’t do anything too complicated or out of character. if the brain thinks too hard about what it’s doing, it could fall out of Aito’s control) his quirk would be better described as a sensory overload, but without the panic or any negative feelings. It actually feels rather nice to be charmed, like being a hot room with a cool fan blowing in your face, or drinking a warm drink in the snow. Very positive, yet opposity feelings at once if that makes sense

(side note, when Aito gets older, she can control when his quirk is “turned on” but while she’s in UA, it just constantly on all of the time, hence his choice in hairstyle)

so! To answer your question, if someone doesn’t know about Aito’s quirk, they have 0 clue that they’re being charmed, and will have 0 memory of whatever they do when charmed. If someone does know about her quirk though, their brain will recognize the feeling and will be able to combat it (she can still be pretty effective, but he still has to work harder for it) if someone knows about the quirk, their vision will get a bit darkend around the corners and may see quick flashes of darkness as their brain kicks off to focus on Aito’s irises. it takes a lot of willpower to fight Aito’s charms- or, just a very very simplified vision, like Aito’s mama has (if someone asks, I’ll talk later about Guadelupe’s vision, it’s actually pretty interesting) (side note again, if someone tires to fight her charm, it could leave them with a gentle headache <3)

and FINALLY Aito’s quirk doesn’t require her to physically see, as long as her target can see her, it works :)

Question by: @gatortopia

Aito decided to become a hero because… he’s perfect! And he wants everyone to know how perfect she is!! And everyone thinks heros are perfect!!! And soon EVERYONE will see how PERFECT he is!!!!!!!

(side notie <3)

when Aito’s father left them, he was cemented in Aito’s brain as someone who couldn’t see how perfect he was. Aito just wants to be seen by her father, but because he doesn’t know who he is, he assumed that the only way to get the man’s attention was to prove how perfect she can really be, and the only way she could figure out how to do that is by becoming a hero.

after he gets her license, he immediately starts heroing like others do, with big fights and capturing villains and saving people… but… that really didn’t work for her. No matter how strong or fast or clever she was, he couldn’t match up to his peers in the heroing world.her quirk just wasn’t made for that kinda work. He took some time off to figure himself out, and after a bit of time (and a lot of conversations with Michi, both professional and personal) he finally figured out that his best place to work was behind the scenes, collecting information and going undercover in villain hangouts and social events. he wears her support hero badge with pride. (and uhhh still sometimes helps with big fights and capturing villains and saving people. Hey! She spent good money on his hero suit! He’s gonna use it!!)

Question by: @ratty-memes

ooohhhh ok! This is the question I really wanna answer!!!

so! to clarify, Aito absolutely thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips, like even in the deep parts of her brain, she thinks he’s The Blueprint. I would almost describe her as narcissistic bordering on psychopathic. THE ONLY REASON I WOULDN’T DESCRIBE HER AS THIS THOUGH- is because of her reasoning

so- Aito was raised by his mama exclusively, and he thinks his mama hung the moon and painted the stars. Like she is a capital M capital B Mama’s Boy. He absolutely adores his mama and thinks she’s absolutely without flaw or defect. (She didn’t instill this in him, Guadelupe’s just a very nice lady and Aito was really messed up after his father left, so she clung to any semblance of a good parent she could find. (Even though he’s technically out of this stage already, and it’s much less pronounced, something similar happened when he met Sato. Guadelupe never dated after Aito’s father “because my mijo is the only person I’ll ever need” and because of that, Sato is the first positive male role model in his life. Most of his acting out actually is a product of wanting to keep Sato’s attention on him, and to subconsciously keep him from leaving like his father did))

Aito’s brain pretty much went “ok, my mama is Absolutely And Positively Perfect… and she really really loves me… she wouldn’t love a kid with flaws… so I must also be perfect!!” And that’s why she thinks she’s all that! She thinks his perfection is as obvious as the sky being blue, and his want for validation just his way of checking out the window and seeing the color or they sky. they sky is blue, and everyone knows that, and Aito is perfect, and everyone should know that!!

Question by: @cosmic-goof

you only get repercussions if you’re caught ;)

but also she’s promised multiple people that she won’t steal from strangers. In the classroom setting, people know that when your wallet or your ID card or your phone go missing, you should talk to Aito before you do anything else, strangers don’t know that, so whatever she takes is for keeps. He really doesn’t like keeping things from people as much as he just likes the act of pick pocketing, so if someone asks for their item back, Aito will immediately return it and will probably explain how and when he took it if they let him. only problem is, you obviously can’t do this with strangers, so instead she does other things, like asks them for a harmless favor that someone would never do for a stranger (“hey there, can you help me move tomorrow?” “Hi! Do you mind if I take your picture?” “Hello sir! can I look through your phone for a sec?”)

Question by: @cosmic-goof

at the moment, it’s usually an adult who knows about her quirk and tries very hard not to be charmed (think sato). she can still charm adults obviously, but it’s a bit harder to do bc she’s just a little baby. maybe when she trains more she’ll get stronger, but at the moment, that’s her limit (sorry if this is a weird answer, willpower doesn’t exactly come in like a points system irl, so I can’t be like “7 willpower!” yk?)

Question by: @glitchviper

I talked about this before with Rin’s blind eye (something I’ll probably add here) but being blind in one eye wouldn’t stop Aito’s quirk (as long as you look at her with your non-blind eye, you can still be charmed, hence why when looking at Aito with only her blind eye, Rin wasn’t charmed)

the only was to not be charmed by Aito is to just not see her eyes, so total blindness or some kind of visual abnormality (like her mama has. somebody PLEASE ask me about Lup’s eyes. I have diagrams) but! if a person is seeing, but can’t hear Aito (be it because of deafness, or some issues in the environment like loud noises or earmuffs) a person can be charmed, but cannot be commanded <3

((p.s. I’ll be talking a lot about blindness or other disabilities while discussing Aito’s quirk, but if I say or display any ableist language or sympathies, please know it’s out of ignorance and not malice, and correct me when you can.))

#Ohhhh please keep asking questions <333 I adore character building for this nasty little leech <3 #Sweet little baby who deserved to be beaten up sooo badly #<3333 #questions about Aito <3 #aito takao #bnha oc comeback #Long post

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sdvharveybby · 4 years

Note

This is a super cliche trope but

Can you do fake dating with Harvey? :D maybe his family in Zuzu have constantly been bugging him for still being single, even more so than usual. and he’s close enough with the farmer to ask if they could just pretend for a day while they visit

I, obviously, kept this platonic between the farmer and Harvey, but man! It honestly killed me to write this. By nature, I tease people quite a bit- so to add that into this, it just made me laugh! I love the awkward Doctor man so much!

Inspiration to this was actually eating together with my family earlier! We are full of roasts and ways to tease each other, so it made this fun and easy to write.

**edit** I totally gave Harveys parents some names, by the way. His papa is William/Bill and his mama is Evelyn (which, now that I think about it. someone is named that in SDV. which is exactly what I wanted to avoid. i love myself) Sorry if the names are cringy, but I did it to make my writing easier. Sorry 😓😭

Please let me know what you think, bby! This ask was so unique, I thought about it- and I have seen this with a comic, but I haven’t seen anyone write it (most likely just haven’t see it yet lmao) but I hope I did this all justice! It was super super fun!! THANKS BBY!!

Word Count: 1796

The phone rung, loudly enough to pierce the ears of anyone in the room as the farmer sat on Harvey’s stool by the radio. They swung around in the direction of the phone to see Harvey answering it, “Hi, this is Doctor Harvey, what can I help you with?” He responded in his usual tone during work hours. It was currently 2pm and Harvey and the farmer normally spent this time together- drinking coffee and throwing around jokes till he had to close. It was nice for the farmer to get a break every day and Harvey normally wasn’t busy around this time, so it kept them both company.

They couldn’t make out the words on his call, but they listen closely anyways, “Oh! Mother, ha- yes, sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice for a second!” He admitted as the farmer could see him grip the phone tighter. His sweet smile seemed strained as he focused on the call, he looked… annoyed. “Ah, yes, business is fine around here. It gets a bit slow during the summer but picks up around fall and winter. Is there… any reason you called?” Harvey sat in his chair beside his table, hunched over as he used his elbow to keep the phone at his ear in place. His eyes searched around his room as he listened to his mother on the other line, never making eye contact with the farmer once. He dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck before he suddenly stood up, “Ha, uhm-yeah, relationships? Y-yeah! I’m uhm… currently in one now!” He lied as he began to pace as much as the phone cord would allow. Wait, relationship? The farmer thought as they watched him slowly pace back and forth. They sipped their coffee, watching him under amused eyes as Harvey was lying to his family. Seems like his family takes that all seriously! They chuckled to themselves, letting out a small burp from their coffee. Harvey swung towards the farmer and held up a finger in a hushed tone- the farmer chuckled again. “Yes, they’re wonderful. I’m very happy,” He continued to lie through his teeth until a moment later when he stopped dead in his tracks. “Ah, no-no! You don’t have to come out!” He spoke, attempting to persuade his family their visit wasn’t necessary. When he realized there wasn’t any way of urging them to stay home, he accepted defeat and ended the call.

Silence filled the room as his stood there, staring at the ground. “Ah, you all right, Harvey? Sounds like your family is coming, yeah?” The farmer began, taking another sip of coffee. He didn’t respond and still didn’t make eye contact. He sat back in his chair by the table and gave a heavy sigh, “My family has been urging me to get into a relationship ever since I left home,” He softly chuckled to himself, it almost seemed panicked as he did so. The farmer began, slowly, “And you… just told them you’re in a relationship…” he nodded, “and… they’re coming out to visit” The farmer pieced together as they watched him lean his back against the table. He nodded again and rubbed his face with his hands. Another moment of silence ensued, “Okay-“ he started, blushing a bit. “Can you do me the biggest favor I’ll probably ever ask of you?” The farmer knew exactly where he was going with this, but they gave a muffled ‘mmhmm’ as they continued to drink their coffee.

“Can we pretend we’re dating while my family is in town?” The farmer knew what he was going to ask, but when they heard it- they almost spat out their coffee. “Us, really?” They wiped their mouth of excess coffee on to their sleeve- they watched Harvey quickly stand, nervously pacing once again. “I’m not close enough with anyone else in town, and- and, I think we can pull it off!” Harvey reassured them giving a worried smile, “Course- you can say n-“ “I’ll do it.” The farmer interrupted, “-but this totally means you owe me!” They stood, placing their empty coffee cup on Harveys radio. Harvey breathed a sigh of relief, “When are they coming out?” They asked him, “T-tomorrow” he mumbled, and the farmer jumped a bit in surprise. “Wait, really?? That gives us no time to prepare at all!” They argued and Harvey held up a hand to dismiss them. “Just be yourself. It’ll only be for the day since they only live in Zuzu city. If they stay for more than a day, then I’ll just tell them you’re busy with your farm work!” He compromised and the farmer sighed, “Fine. I’ll come by after I finish my work, and then I’ll think about how you can pay me back.” They gave him a wicked smile, but Harvey nodded, laughing it off.

The next day started as any other, but the farmer couldn’t feel but a bit worried about meeting his family. It’s going to be so awkward! What if they ask us to do like… romantic stuff together!? This is a disaster! They thought to themselves as they gave hay to their animals. They finished their work a bit later than usual, but they breathed in deeply to calm themselves down and made their way to Harveys.

When they reached his place, it was about 11am, and they walked inside to see Harvey at the front counter with his head in his heads. “No family, yet?” They spoke as they fixed their jacket and combed fingers through their hair to fix it. “No, not yet” he mumbled without looking up. They approached the counter, “Do you not get along with your family, or what? You seem so nervous.” Harvey looked up to meet the farmers eyes, “It’s not that- it’s just that they worry too much.” He explained, “You’re one to talk,” they teased, giving him a comfortable smile- hopefully to ease his stress. His eyes traced their hair and came back with, “You have a piece of hay in your hair,” He teased and sat up with a sigh. The farmer combed through their hair to find it, “And hey, I’m a doctor. It’s my job to worry, and I’m a full-grown man capable of making of my own decisions.” There was a brief pause before the farmer countered him, whispering, “Could have fooled me.” Harvey laughed. It seemed genuine for how nervous he was. Harvey was known to be a worrywart in town but seeing him nervous and stressed easily made the farmer pity him. “It’ll work out just fine. And they’ll be gone before you know it.”

A knock at the door startled them both and Harvey jumped from his chair to answer it. Standing there was an older man and woman. The man was taller than Harvey by about a few inches, and the woman standing next to him reached about chest height to the man. They both had gray hair and wore casual clothes- t-shirt and jeans, while the woman wore a green colored jacket. “Oh, my little Harvey! It’s so good to see you!” The woman, his mother, cooed to him. The farmer had to stifle their laughs before reaching out a hand to introduce themselves. “Nice firm handshake,” Harvey’s father commented to the farmer. “Name’s William, but you can call me Bill.” Harvey’s mother then chimed in, “And I’m Evelyn!” She smiled sweetly towards the farmer, and they knew where Harvey got his smile from.

Their time together went by really well- Bill was funny and didn’t let anyone catch a break from his teasing, which made Harvey nervous at times, but the farmer had no problem keeping up and teasing back. Evelyn was a sweet natured soul who actively worried about everything Harvey was doing and how he was doing it. Harvey had to explain a few times that he was very happy about where he was at in life, and that Pelican Town residents rarely got ill, and that seemed to ease her worries a bit.

“When are you guys going to get married then, huh? I don’t hear any wedding bells.” Bill joked towards Harvey. Harvey blushed a bright red, almost unable to speak. The way him and the farmer sat- it wasn’t convincing his parents at all. They sat a few inches apart from each other and barely acknowledged they even existed. Through Harveys nervous bout, the farmer scooted their chair closer and held his hand, “We’ve given it a lot of thought! But we both don’t feel like we’re ready.” The farmer remarked, swooping in to save Harvey a lot of potential trouble. Evelyn relaxed a bit, but said, “What’s the hold up? I mean, our little Harvey’s not going to get any younger!” Seeing the way Evelyn acted towards Harvey made the farmer laugh, but they stifled any chuckles to continue, “It’s mostly because I don’t have the farm set up enough to have him move in. It’s a lot of work to keep my farm stable and I want to make sure that he’ll be happy enough there to move in.” They explained, completely lying through their teeth. They tried to give a convincing smile, but with Harvey basically deflating on the spot- they had no idea what his parents were thinking of. “You two plan on having a family?” Bill tested as he watched the farmer and Harvey holding hands- albeit awkwardly. Man, what’s with these guys. Couldn’t we have just kept teasing more about Harvey as a kid? The farmer wished in their head. They opened their mouth to speak before Harvey interrupted, “Let’s just get through thinking about the wedding before starting a family!” He was still colored a deep red, unable to hide any of his blushing towards the awkward questions his family placed him in. Evelyn seemed a bit sad at all their answers but seemed satisfied enough to drop her prying.

After his parent’s interview, the evening went by really well! It wasn’t until it reached about 8pm that they decided to leave. With Harvey and the farmer now alone, they simultaneously sighed. “Mission successful?” The farmer asked, exhausted from putting on the show. Harvey feeling the same way, “I had a hard enough time trying to remember we were supposed to be a couple. You were basically one of them.” He laughed and rubbed his face with his hands. “You have no idea how hard I tried not to laugh when she brought up about how tiny you were as a baby.” He gave a loud moan as the farmer said this, “Please don’t make me remember.” Harvey pleaded, letting out a chuckle.

“Or how about the time you-“

“Don’t do this to me!”

#sdv #sdv harvey #stardew farmer #harvey stardew valley #stardew harvey #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley #sdv farmer #sdv ask #stardew valley farmer

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apathycarestostudy · 4 years

Text

Academic Success Tips from My Parents

Out of all the things my parents enforced in my siblings and I, the most profound were educational and life success tips. Legit would get 100% regardless of the subject/ course/ workload. Here’s a bunch of them.

Before class:

Spend no more than a quarter of the journey to class chilling.

Organize your study materials according to subject. Files and folders in the back, then textbooks, then notebooks. Stationery in appropriate places.

Always carry a folder full of blank sheets (plain, graphed, all the kinds!).

Fix your bag before you sleep. Hang your wristwatch on the strap so you don’t forget it when you go.

Clear your desk/study area as soon as you’re done - you’re not allowed to move out of that spot until you do.

If you have a study journal/ school diary/ study guide, read it everyday before class.

Be the first one there, at least 15 minutes early (30 mins to an hour early is favourable).

If the teacher walks in, you better greet them with a smile, regardless if they’re crabby or not. Everyday.

You have the option to relax and do whatever before the teacher walks in. However, you have to preview the lesson before it starts. No exceptions.

Make ‘preview’ notes, which is basically little helpful tidbits about what’s to come, stuff you’re not sure about, questions and guides, how formulas connect - literally anything that’ll make the class go smoother for you.

During class:

You can talk to your friends before class, but as soon as it starts, not a word or glance in their direction.

Have all your materials either out if you have the space, or within reach.

Listen carefully and take notes where appropriate (on printed ppts, on the corners and margins of the textbook, or an actual notebook), always, every class. There’s no such thing as ‘I didn’t take any notes today’ or ‘There wasn’t anything going on’.

Always write the date and the day. Make an index as you go.

No highlighters during class. Underline textbooks with pencil only, and use pencils for sketches.

Whenever a teacher assigns work or extra readings or reference materials, write them down - always. Optional or not.

You better write down test/ quiz/ exam dates, even if they’re happening the next day and you’ll obviously remember.

Speaking of exams, if the teacher mentions that word, write down everything they say, dialogue tags and all.

Answer as much questions as you can. It would be favourable if you answer twice per class or more, but it’s fine if you don’t. Your performance matters more.

Give people a chance to answer and ask questions.

Listen to what they’re saying and what response the teacher gives, even if you know it. Listening skills are important.

If an exercise is assigned during class, get on it like it’s an exam, and show the teacher your work (if possible) for corrections.

If there’s a couple minutes before the class ends, but the teacher’s lesson finished for whatever reason (a final exercise is going on and you finished, they’re taking questions etc.) you keep to yourself if you’re not talking to the teacher. Read a book, do some work, anything productive.

You can help your friends and classmates now. Never say no, even if you’re not sure, say so and let them know you’re willing to struggle with them for a solution.

If you lend stationery, get it back before you bounce.

Arrange your materials backwards as you go through the day.

If you have another class right after, you better get over there immediately. It doesn’t matter if you’ve gotten more than enough time to mess around. Take your friends if you if you’d like.

During breaks:

Study, read, review, or preview. Something light for at least a quarter of the break this time.

If someone asks for help, help them (again). It’s good practice for you to see if you understand, and it’s good practice for when you go out into the world.

NEVER GO TO TEACHERS UNLESS IT’S ABSOLUTELY DETRIMENTAL.

If you have nothing light you can do, you can do whatever.

After class:

Start by finishing all your homework. It isn’t due this week? Doesn’t matter. Always do your homework as soon as it’s assigned.

Once you’re done with your homework, check your study journal/ school diary/ study guide again. Take note of what’s coming up.

stUDY NOW PLEASE. All the subjects / courses you’ll have tomorrow should be either a) memorized if you didn’t have more than an hour of homework time or b) read and reviewed and tried and tested if you did.

You can use highlighters now. Make summary notes and formula master lists.

Organize your stuff again.

You’re caught up with everything and barely did an hour today? Time to bust out the optional readings then.

You have no extra stuff too? Time to go on the computer and get some resources yourself.

If there’s a big project, plan every step with excessively precise details. Follow them. Don’t forget to add buffers in case you miss something.

You missed something? Plan all over again.

Go to sleep by 7 if you’re in school and 10 if you’re in college. You haven’t finished studying? I’ll wake you up at 3/4 in the morning then.

Did I mention do your assignments the day they’re assigned to you?

No relaxing till the weekend. You wake up, go to classes, come back, shower, eat, then study until you go to bed. Oh, and lay out your clothes right down to the shoes and socks (accessories too) right before you do.

Weekends:

Sike. You only get one day off.

(Legit tho, back in the day, my work week was from Sunday to Thursday, and my parents would allow Thursday night and half of Friday off. We had to get up at eight-thirty in the morning max and study until lunch with zero breaks. Lunch would usually be at 1:30 pm. You can forget about most of Saturday too. We’d study till lunch, then have to go back again until late afternoon (about 5:30 pm - 4:30 if we were lucky). And then of course, since we were starting back on Sunday, we’d be in bed by 7. People would wonder how in the world we’d be able to sleep at 7 with all that we had to do as students - now you know.)

Don’t get me started on exams lol. This may seem harsh, but without this type of discipline, I wouldn’t be doing as okay as I do now with the subpar standards I’ve seemed to developed in college. Well. I’ve got a bunch of other things I used to do (some still do), as these are only the ones I could remember on the top of my head. More coming soon maybe?

Hope this helps you!

EDIT: DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT ADVOCATING ILL-HEALTH. THIS IS ONLY THE ACADEMIC ASPECT OF MY LIFE, NOT THE ENTIRETY OF IT. IF YOU’RE TRIGGERED, READ THIS. THANKSS.

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helpibrokemybrain · 3 years

Text

writing-prompt-s facelessnamelessanarchist Follow

Follow welcomedhappiness Farewell online privacy

Follow tikalgirl What happened?

xdvisyrx Trump happened.

Follow pizzaalle just get a VPN?

Follow earth-ruins You can’t just tell people to ‘get a VPN (Virtual Private Network)’. Buying a VPN is like buying a house. It’s very very important. Having no VPN or having a ‘wrong’ one can seriously damage your life. Especially for Americans because their privacy laws are garbage. I am going to try explain why you should get a VPN but bare with me, I am from Germany and my English is far from perfect. Let’s start with a simple test. Click this link here: https://whatismyipaddress.com/ It will tell your IP adres, your ISP (internet service provider), and your location. The location might not be very accurate, but then again, it’s just a simple website. Imagine what the government can do! So basically, everyone can find out where you live. But there is more danger. Your ISP. Your ISP logs your every move online and they are required to keep it in case the government wants access to it (or if a 3rd party wants to buy your data (yikes). They have everything. What websites you visit. How long you stay on a website. What you download. Your search terms. European laws are more subtle on this but if you are from the US you are #@*#&, especially because Trump doesn’t support the open internet. It’s scary but maybe in the future you can’t get a job because the recruiter knows your searched on ‘how to deal with depression’ or anythings else that’s supposed to be private because it’s your f*cking right. Or you get a $100k fine because you pirated a movie 15 years ago. You need a VPN. You’re dumb for not using one. but what does a VPN do? A VPN encrypts all your data so if it were be intercepted no one can ‘crack the code’ and damage your privacy. Usually being online goes like this (simplified): Your computer —-> ISP (—–> keeps data —–> sells it) But with a VPN it goes like: Your computer —–> VPN (encrypts data)—–> ISP (ISP can’t see shit) Furthermore, a VPN hides your IP address and location by giving you another IP address located in Spain for example (you can often choose from a list and change as many times as you want). Now that you know why you should get a VPN and what is does it is important to educate yourself because people often choose the wrong VPN. VPN providers are also businesses and have to obey the law. If you choose a VPN provider located in the US then you are throwing your money away because the laws in the US shits on your privacy. If the US gov wants the provider to give all their logs they have to obey. The ISP still can’t see what you are doing online and sell your data but the US gov can interfere with your VPN provider so NEVER CHOOSE A PROVIDER LOCATED IN THE US. I just wanted to make that very clear so my followers don’t buy false security. There is still more danger! Who says your VPN provider isn’t selling your data? You need to check their logging policy. Do they keep logs? If yes, what for? For how long do they keep them? Tip: Choose a provider who doesn’t keep logs More about law The US is part of the Five Eyes program (the worst): The Five Eyes, often abbreviated as FVEY, is an intelligence alliance comprising Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom and the United States. These countries are bound by the multilateral UKUSA Agreement, a treaty for joint cooperation in signals intelligence (source) There is also a Nine Eyes (bit better) and Fourteen Eyes Program (better). You don’t want a VPN provider who is located in one the Five Eyes countries. If you had to choose go for a provider located in a country that’s part of the Fourteen Eyes Program or even better, go for a country that isn’t part of any program! I know this is a shitty explanation and please pardon my english but now it’s time to do your own research. Take your privacy seriously. Maybe WWIII breaks out and you get killed for liking the ‘wrong’ FB-page. Go to this website: https://thatoneprivacysite.net/simple-vpn-comparison-chart/ Make sure that your future VPN provider both has green boxes for Privacy Jurisdiction and Privacy Logging. I recommend ovpn.se and trust.zone. ovpn is located in Sweden so they are part

of the 14 Eyes Program and they keep minimal logs. Their business ethics, however, are alright. Trustzone is located in the Seychelles. No country can interfere and their privacy jurisdiction is the best you can get. The US want your data but needs to get it from Trustzone? The Seychelles will simply give them the finger and wave them goodbye. However, this makes this provider very appealing for people who torrent and criminals because they keep no logs (and that is how it shoud be) Also, there are almost no marketing efforts so this provider is one the cheapest) Also, often providers such as ExpressVPN are being called ‘The Best’ on websites about VPNs but know that this is just marketing which also makes those provider more expensive (and they too shit on your privacy) This must be the worst article you have ever read but please, please take your privacy very seriously. EDIT: I got many people asking me which provider I use. For those who want to know, I use Trust Zone. They offer a free 3-day trial with no strings attached. But still do your own research!

writing-prompt-s I am also with Trustzone but I think you forgot to explain one of it’s most important features. It protects you when you are using someone else’s Wi-Fi. If you are at Starbucks and you use their Wi-Fi your privacy is at risk. Anyone with ill intentions could steal your information. Especially if you are using an unsecured Wi-Fi hotspot. With a VPN your data gets encrypted so no one can steal it.

Follow rabbittiddy Wait, what’s going, on? Did trump destroy internet privacy with a bill or something? Where’s the news? Oh wait, why am I getting visions of Alex Jones and selling water purifiers?

Follow thecrystalfems He hasn’t yet but he says he wants to. And if he is serious about it it would be really easy to do. Since all our data is already recorded, as the person above explained.

Follow coltrer Trump wants more surveillance of Muslim Americans. This in a country where internet privacy is already close to non-existent. Trust.Zone has a free trial. Use it. btw this post only has 11k notes? That’s quite disappointing for something this important. Don’t reblog this post to save a life. Reblog this to protect an entire family!

Follow imthedoctor12 @earth-ruins @writing-prompt-s Should I get trustzone for my mobile device?

writing-prompt-s If you use public Wi-Fi, then yes. Which VPN you use is up to you, amigo. Take @earth-ruinsadvice. Do your own research first.

writing-prompt-s @elvesfromthedeep just brought the current situation in the US to my attention (March 30, 2017). SourcesAnger as US internet privacy law scrapped Congress just voted to let internet providers sell your browsing history To all my friends in the US, please read this entire post. Making everyone aware of VPNs is going to be my mission. Your privacy matters. Please reblog this post.

Follow greeneyespurpleheart Don’t tell me you just wanted to scroll past this. Stop looking at pictures of cats for a moment, okay? Don’t you realize how important this is? This is dangerous! ‘America, the best FREE country in the world’ my ass. With this new law your ISP can sell your Internet history which could include passwords, usernames, religion, credit card numbers, race and much more to the highest bidder. So here is what I want you to do. You are going to read the whole thing and before you think ’this is so important. Let me reblog this real quick and go back to admiring cats again-’ NO! Don’t reblog this. Take action first. Then reblog. Sign up for a free trial! Trust.Zone offers one (here). Yes. It might be difficult to set up a VPN for some people. But is that going to stop you from protecting yourself and your family? 30 minutes. 30 minutes is all that it takes. 5 if you know how to install software. The problem with some of you is that you see ‘difficult’ as something negative. I want you to see difficult differently. I need you to push through this stuff. You are going to protect yourself. There is nothing negative about that. VPNs are fun and costsaving too! A VPN bypasses geographical restrictions so you can access websites you normally can’t or you could start Netflix’s one month free trial over and over again- forever. And it’s legal! (unless you use it to buy weapons etc.,) Don’t tell yourself that you are too tired and that you will do this tomorrow. Because that isn’t going to happen and you know it. You have to do this right now. You only have to click on it. Don’t let this/shit/life just happen to you. Take yourself seriously. Get a VPN. Privacy is not a privilege, it’s a fundamental human right

joyfuldefender Ok sorry that it’s so freaking long and also sorry for the language, but this is extremely important. Please reblog!

Follow li-ionsandtigersandbears Reblogging again bc this is important

Follow mermaidz4ever We have a VPN you should get one too

killmongersbaby Please read.

Follow bae-in-maine Can you get them for your phones?

Follow kika-lei ^ you can. & when you have a subscription you can use it on your phone and computer. no need for separate subs or purchases. it is absolutely so important for safety. but one of my fave things to do with my vpn is access non-US netflix. I mean other places have all the new good place eps, all the ‘classic’ bggo eps…

i-cant-remember-who-i-am IMPORTANT

Follow theriflemanofroblox reblogging so new people can be aware :)

Follow facelessnamelessanarchist Long as hell, but read it!!!

Source: welcomedhappiness

————————— I found this post and I thought it was important but tumblr wouldn’t let me reblog it for some reason so I copy/pasted it because I’m not very tech savvy

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Text

Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone x Fem!PleasantValleyResident!Reader

Title: Throuple

Notes:

Granny Boone is bisexual and you can’t change my mind.

This is way too long I’m sorry. My excuse? Its self indulgent that's why and I wrote it over the course of 2 days, both at night time so...

Pick whichever Buckman you like best.

Plot:

Boone and Buckman just care a lot about you! A looooooot, a lot. Like, so much. A colossal amount, really- but you’ve never heard of a ‘throuple’ before.

Warnings: Uhh, polyamory? Sexual harassment, hint towards rape (Not of you or any known characters but still), 2001 Maniacs craziness? Reader might also have a mental illness, I don't know. Its not explicitly stated and I’m just the writer so how would I know? But she is really tired. Laziness in the last written sentence. I haven't edited the last half, so it might be illegible... In the morning I probably will edit.

~~~

SET: Before the massacre, so everyone is alive except the 2001 Maniacs victims who have yet to be born because this is 1860

“Hey Y/N!” One of the men from table three - was it William or was it Lawrence? I don’t know, whoever-it-is’ voice is too slurred at this point for me to figure. Turning away from the table I was wiping off, I tuck the washcloth into the waistband of my apron and raise an eyebrow vaguely towards the table. “Come over here a moment, wouldja?”

“Why?” Now, usually, I would go over; No question. But its nearly closing time now, and its dark, and men like to get rowdy at this time, and I’ve been burned by that shtick before. Resting my working hands, course and strong, on my hips, I raise my eyebrows.

Put on a cold front and they’ll lose interest. Uh, usually.

“Just wanna get a betta look atcha! Larry here says you got a flat ass, but I got 3 coins on yer plump bottom. Y’ wouldn’t want me losin’ coin, would you?? Come on, now, just stand over here and lemme ‘ave a look-see. Wont even touch!” William, as I can now see, shows off his grotty yellow teeth in a wide grin.

He honestly think’s that crap will fly? He really, truly believes I’ll just submissively walk over to them and bend the fuck over?

What the hell do they take me for? I’m a waitress, not a prostitute.

Instead of snapping at them though I merely sigh, and clap my hands in a finished manner. “Come on boys, time to go home. It’s closing time and my snuggly warm bed’s calling out t’ me. Aren’t yours’? Come on, then!”

Groans and protests are my response, but the long drunk and tired men - they’re here after a long day of work in some mines, - get up and head for the exit to my building despite their complaints. I know neither of them are staying in any of the hotel rooms above, so that’s where they’ll go and that’s where I herd them. Out the saloon doors and down the street. I shoo them all the way, curbing their complaints with ‘Think about lovely dreams’, and ‘You can come back tomorrow for breakfast!’. Once we’ve gotten to the door, I wave them off, dish cloth in hand. “Goodnight boys, see you in the morn- Ah!” A high-pitched shriek comes out of me and is released into the cold night-time air in a puff of visible gas in the lamp light as I whip around. Someone pinched my-

“Theodore.” I gasp, eyebrows furrowed as I use my fists to cover my ass as I look up defensively at the tall, roguish looking man. I thought he left hours ago!

How dare he-

“Definitely plump / flat, boys!” He calls out to the two that are heading down the street, receiving raised hands in goodbye and laughs in response. Probably disgusting comments, too, but the mix of how far away their retreating backs are becoming, and the alcohol in their systems making their words blur together like flour and eggs mean that I thankfully don’t hear them with any sort of clarity. Theodore looks back down at me and smirks. “You said something about a warm snuggly bed, Miss?”

“Yes. Yours is a couple blocks from here. Be free to go forth, right now.” I roll my eyes, slipping around him so he’s closer to the door. He twists around and runs a hand through his greasy hair that’s far too long, and would be fair if he ever let water touch it. Good lord man, go see Al the barber and maybe you’ll learn some manners along the way.

“Aw, are you mad at me now Y/N?”

“Just cross.”

“I know a fun way we could work through those passionate feelin’s together, darlin’- “

Another voice joins the fray, just as I’m worrying if Theodore will ever actually leave, or more seriously- If he will ever actually pull through with the comments like that that he always makes towards me. “Oh, what’s that?”

Theodore and I look out to the street immediately to see who’s interrupted him. Who, with such a high and feminine voice, has had the audacity. Who, has become simultaneously his annoyance, and my saving grace.

My eyes land on Boone, and a grin makes its way over my lips. She looks cross herself, hands on her hips, shoulders anchored towards Theodore in a way a mother might look at her son when she is…

Totally pissed off.

I waive my dish cloth at her from behind Theodore. “Good evening, Boone!”

She doesn’t so much as say anything back, just glances at me and then back at the problem- Theodore. Oh man, if I were him I’d be backing off now. Boone scares everyone, me included. Not that I have to worry, she’s made it clear that she cares about me.

… A little too much, but still. That’s neither here nor there right now. I’m glad she’s here!

“I think I heard some unsanitary comments comin’ from you, Mr Miller. At least I hope they were just comments. Why don’t you go on and apologise to our deserving waitress Miss L/N, before I let the Mayor know what you’re up to here. I believe he warned your ass last time we caught you cornering her.” Boone’s eyes darken on him and I wonder if I could slip off to the side and clean off the last table; the one William and Lawrence were at previously, so I can retire sooner. She’s got this all under control, if I know her.

But then Theodore just rolls his shoulders back, and the air around him seems to still. “You know, Miss Boone, I never see either you or our esteemed mayor every kickin’ up such a damn fuss over anyone else in this town. I mean, shit. I had some devilish fun with Miss Lyla the other day and you didn’t do nothin’!” A smirk slowly rolls over his mouth as he looks back at me for a moment, caging me in those dark, weaselly eyes for a moment. Oh, crap.

Boone, though, doesn’t even bat an eye.

But before she can say another word, yet another familiar voice calls from the shadows. I look down the path the way Boone was headed down before she heard Theodore and I and stopped by, to see Buckman walking down towards her. What are these two doing taking walks at 11 at night for, anyway? Why aren’t they together?? Seems a bit choreographed, to me. Let me just add that to all the reasons they creep me out.

Now, our Mayor is shorter than Theodore, who is much like a weasel in that he’s skinny, smelly and long, but that doesn’t make him an any less intimidating presence against him. Even with cheer in his eyes and his hands carefully in his pockets, its always been clear from the get-go, that he’s a force to be reckoned with. Its something about the way he holds all of his emotions inside, I’ve always thought. Mixed with the knowledge that he’s fought in a war.

It’s why we voted for him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Mayor.” Theodore swallows down a gulp of spit, stepping forward out of my saloon, finally. “Sir!” I take a deep breath and let it out, relieved, going straight to the doors and wedging myself between them; blocking him from coming back in and ready to shut the doors again as soon as I can. I don’t want Theodore coming back in, but I also don’t want to be left alone with either of these two nutters’, either.

Oh, by ‘nutters’, I mean ‘pillars of the community’… Mostly, I mean that. Uh, half.

Okay fine, they’re nuts.

“Mayor,” I greet, inclining my head for a moment politely.

“Evenin’ Y/N! I hope you’re not having too much trouble with this one.” Buckman immediately flashes me a bright, election winning smile. A real one. Like he always does when he see’s me.

“Well, he was. But I think Boones got it covered.” I grin back, unable to help it. He’s very charismatic!

Boone’s expression softens a bit and she relaxes her stance, giving me a little smile. “Thank you dear.”

“I’m sure she does.” Buckman agrees, and then they share a smile between them, and I look down at Theodore on the bottom step that leads to my saloon. Oh Jesus Christ, if he had suspicions before, then they are just growing now. This is just what I need!

I haven’t done anything, Theodore!! I promise!

Which is not to say I haven’t received countless offers, but I don’t need to be even thinking about that. Seeing as I declined.

“Now, why don’t you head on home Theodore.” Buckman drops his nose to look up at Theodore with a little bit more menace and severity. “You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“Good night sir! Boone, Y/N.” Finally, Theodore looks back over his shoulder at me, and then makes a break for it down the road past Boone. She gives him a stink eye for as long as she can before losing interest.

And then its just me, Boone and Buckman in the stillness of the night.

And I wish I’d run off like Theodore.

“Well! Good night ya’ll! I got an early day tomorrow, so- “ I try to escape by weaving an excuse and locking the doors behind me, but it it’s not 2 minutes later when the only other set of key’s for this building stick into the lock, turn, and they walk on into my saloon. I sigh, now behind the counter washing cups.

Of course. He’s the mayor. Of course, they have keys.

Looking up at the ceiling, I pray for an easy time of it tonight. Please, let them be tired from their daily duties and they’ll go home soon.

I continue to wash glasses and plates and put them away, but I don’t get too far before Boone’s gone right ahead and helped herself to my special ‘only me’ area -behind the counter of my saloon,- and turns me around by the shoulders to look at me. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

I sigh, and tell her. “No. I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry for me.” She really shouldn’t, not in the way she does. She has a husband.

The part where he didn’t touch me is obviously incorrect, but I better not mention that to these two.

“Even so, we do worry darlin’. Come on, sit down for a bit. Give us some peace of mind, at least.” Buckman, immediately on the other side of the counter, asks and I sigh. I’ve learnt, that if I don’t comply, then they’ll never leave. And besides, the things they ask of me are never bad. Just, sit down and talk with them. Play cards. Have a drink. Generally, just lovely things like that.

It’s the intent behind them that concerns me.

“Yes. I’ll go and get you some water.” Boone says with a No-‘If’s’-or-‘Buts’-about-it kind of tone, and I try to open my mouth and protest against that, but she’s already guiding me around the bench. When we reach the end, she deposits me with her mayoral husband, and he leads me the rest of the way to a table. I sit down, sighing simultaneously and he sits down next to me. “I’ll wash the glass; Don’t you worry about that!”

“That’s… “I blow air into one of my cheeks and blow out gradually. “… Not what I’m worried about… “

“Now, he didn’t do anything nasty, did he? He certainly had the intention.”

I shake my head and set my hands in my lap. I want to tell them what he did, I really do. I don’t know why, but I always want to tell them things.

But I retain the believe that I can’t. I shouldn’t be that close with either of them. “No, sir, I’m fine, really! That’s not even as bad as some other men get at this time of night, anyway. I could have handled- “A moment after I’ve admitted the fact that other men have been worse than what Theodore just suggested to me, I pause. And peer guiltily up at Boone instead of Buckman as she hands me the water she promised and then sits down on the other side of me. “… I haven’t helped my case, have I?”

“No.” She laughs.

Maybe I do need this water.

I take a sip and look at neither of them, instead settling my focus on this glass of water and the far wall. I really need to repaint that wall…

While I do this, and they talk to each other about their day, I ponder my situation.

Now, I… I don’t consider myself a judgemental person. I don’t care what any folks do behind closed doors, in their bedrooms. Man and woman, woman and woman, man and man. But I am damn sure that it is only supposed to include 2 people. I’ve never heard of couples that are more then that, unless you count cults and I don’t.

So, it’s not that I don’t care for them both. Not at all. Its that I can’t be with them both, like they’ve asked, like they want. I can’t.

I’d like to be that open minded, I would, but… I just can’t picture it.

___TIME SKIP: Modern Day___

Since they arrived, I’ve been peering a little too long to be polite at a few of the newest group of victims. I’m a little worried that they’ve noticed, but I’m also really curious. I just can’t tell who is a couple and who isn’t. There is a particular group of 3, that’s throwing me off. I definitely saw the blonde one kiss the ginger one, but then I also swear saw the ginger one and the brunette ones holding hands. Could that just be a friendly thing? It had a pretty intimate feel, to me.

Now, I stand on the porch of my saloon, leaning my forearms onto the railing as I watch them. Buckman’s still with them, along with half- no, the rest of the town, remaining town I should say, inviting to the annual ‘guts and glory jubilee’. At this point, I really don’t get why any of these kids stay. Maybe it’s just because I know what going to happen to them.

Or maybe, its because this generation of kids are morons.

‘Guts and Glory Jubilee’? I mean, really? At first it was clever, but it was only a temporary name for the trap. And now its been a hundred years and its still called the same thing, and my saloon’s always full with disrespectful modern teenagers and my friends acting like loons to keep them there, and the kids aren’t getting any brighter. Too blinded by the way us Pleasant Valley women dress, and the inviting way we all -men and women alike, - smile, and laugh. They’re none the wiser to our plot.

Like I said, Morons.

As I’m watching the usual show on Buckman explaining with bright theatrics what a fun time it’ll be and how they should stay, as our honoured guests, I catch the eye of one of those guests. The blonde one from before, that kissed the ginger one. They smile through the awkward, accidental eye contact, and I paste on a smile back- too old and too tired to care about the awkwardness. I keep the contact until the moment they look away, honestly too tired to look away first.

I just want to go.

Where everyone else did. My parents, my fiancé, my… god, even my fucking cat… Where they went. Before we were massacred. Heaven, or hell, or wherever the hell we go after real, no consciousness death. Where we can’t, until 2001 of these dumbass teenagers die.

I just have to hold on a little longer.

A little while later, they agreed to stay and I went off into my saloon, ready to great them and serve them drinks. And clean tables, and fight off bastards trying to get a drunken feel, and snap back at rude ass, degrading miscreants who think I’ll just stand by and let them call me names.

Which is what I’m busy with now, as I dry off a now clean glass, ready to be filled with my sub-par rum again. A loud, brutish call of ‘Hey, any fucking rum left? Waitress!’ interrupts my quieter, calmer thoughts of fantasising about seeing my family again right after the saloon doors absolutely slam open. I whip around and am ready to have Jonathon, the only man in this saloon that I even remotely enjoy the company of and my only employee, kick the bastard out when my voice escapes me. Instead, I roll my eyes in utter frustrated and groan. This is just what I need.

“Theodore, what have I told you about calling me waitress?! You know my name.” I exclaim through grit teeth, throwing my now damp dishcloth onto the bench with vigour, causing a couple boys at the bar to reel back with a few irritating, obnoxious ‘Oooh’s. Theodore slowly smirks in that easy way that he does, and drops down in the bench across from where I’m standing. “Yes, we have the revolting drink you love. You know, we have rum. You basically live here!” I throw him a greasy with my eyes. “Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask you; Do you have a home?? Because I’d be happy to send you off with a weeks’ worth of rum if it means I’ll get some peace and quiet from you for that time!”

“Naw, baby, I come here for your company. If you came home with me for a week, that’d be a different story. I’d stay away easy! Just stay… in bed… with you.” He winks.

Dropping the ferocity in my body language for a moment, I just deadpan at him. “You disgust me.”

“In the best way.” Theodore grins, then leans into the bar, evidently done with teasing me for now, if his serious expression tells me anything. “Anyway,” He starts, sounding exhausted now as his hair droops around his face and the smile officially leaves his eyes. “Drink?”

Because it’s my job, and because standing near a quiet Theodore is a welcome alternative then trying to make conversation with the teenage boys down the left side of the bar who ‘Ooh’ed me earlier, I pat the bar and grumpily head off for the rum and a glass. “Coming right up.”

While I do that, Boone and Buckman; The nutters, the pillars of the community, the mayoral couple and the banes of my existence, come into the saloon and take the table by the door. I ignore them though, pulling my own stool out from under my side of the bench and sitting down across from Theodore, pouring him his drink and sliding it to him. Jonathon can handle the rush for a few tiny minutes, while I sit for a second. “Thank you, darlin’.”

I don’t say anything back, because I don’t like to extend pleasantries to him of all people. Instead, I look around the room and do my usual assessment. The room’s loud, and full of people -Boone and Buckman took the last unoccupied table, and Theodore took the last stool, -, acting loud and having butt loads of fake fun. I don’t really care about that though; all I care about is that in a moment I’m going to have to get up and ask around for any more orders and clean some more cups and plates. For a second, I let my shoulders relax and I rest my hands on the bar in front of me. Strong, work woman’s hands.

“You noticed the ‘throuple’ in the new group?”

Oh, Theodore is still talking to me.

Joy.

“Huh?” I look up from my hands to meet his eyes momentarily, raising my eyebrows at him. What did he say?

“The throuple, that’s what they called it when I asked ‘em.” He smirks for a moment. “It’s a relationship between 3 people.”

“Why do I care? That sounds like their business.” I sniff, then wipe under my nose a moment and then move to fixing my apron over my chest. It had slid to the side while I was working, it seems.

For a glorious moment, he doesn’t respond. He just stays quiet, and I think how lovely his company is when he’s on the other side of the bar and is quiet.

Then I look up at him, still with my eyebrows up my forehead, and see he’s looking straight into my soul. A knowing, mischievous grin on his lips. Its as if he ironed it in that way, all creases and wrinkles on his face from smiling so much in his life.

But I know what he’s insinuating.

It’s a different world out there now, that’s apparently allowed. It happens. Romantic relationships between more then 2 people. Maybe I should reconsider my answer, to Boone and Buckman. Maybe it would work.

That’s what Theodore is saying with this look that is so annoyingly painted on his face.

And to that, I say fuck off.

Or I would, if I wasn’t a good, Christian lady.

Instead I shrug my shoulders at him and head off to check the tables. “It’s a whole new world out there!” I call back, successfully, hopefully, ending the conversation.

Where does he even get off making suggestions like that to me- he shouldn’t even be that sure of what was happening -what they were, or are still, trying to make happen, - to mention it to me in such a forward manner. I definitely didn’t tell anyone except my mirror, and my… bathroom sometimes… but I certainly didn’t say it above a whisper! He couldn’t have heard, even if he was snooping around like the creep he is.

And the other two definitely wouldn’t have said anything. They despise Theodore Miller even more then I do.

He must just be smart.

… huh.

Who knew? Theodore has a brain and not just a penis under that grease, sweat and soot covered flesh.

Like a coward, I hit every other table in the room before I get the one by the door. They obviously can tell that I’m trying to avoid them, because saloon procedure is obvious to get to the table that was most recently filled as soon as possible before any others, but I don’t really care. If Theodore and I noticed the, uh, ‘throuple’, then the mayor and his wife, definitely, did. And I’m dreading the conversation that is about to occur.

When I do, finally, start heading towards Boone and Buckman’s table, I notice Theodore turning around in his seat to drink and watch the scene.

With his knees spread wide like a heathen. Ugh! Not in my establishment. Before I get to the table, I show him my middle finger and he turns around, chuckling to himself.

Okay. I take a deep breath, and stop at the dreaded table.

“Good afternoon, Mr Mayor. Mrs Mayor.” I beam, a pasted smile that’s obviously fake. Luckily, because I don’t think I could handle any more embarrassment and pressure right now, and unluckily because I think anyone else’s attention might actually be preferred then these two’s right at any time, no one else is paying attention to see such a grin. “What’ll it be? Today we have beans and bread as the special- like always. “I take out my notepad and pen.

Not because I need them to remember orders, of course. Just to have something to focus on.

“Good afternoon Y/N, why don’t you sit here with us for a bit? You look bone tired from takin’ care of this lot! It’s a full house today.” Boone asks, even going as far as using her foot to push out the other chair at the table that isn’t taken, for me to prospectively take.

Absolutely not.

“I am exhausted.” I find myself sitting down, instead of leaving like I should have. Immediately on feeling the tension leave my legs, I feel like collapsing onto this table and falling asleep. “Thank you.”

Leaning into my hands for a moment with my eyes closed will have to do. A feel a comforting hand pat my shoulder and it does feel better. “Why don’t you let Jonathon handle business for a little bit- we actually happened to have a talk the other day about him wanting more opportunities to advance. This would be a perfect opportunity for him! And you look warn, sweetheart.”

He shouldn’t call me that.

But it does sound good. Especially coming from Buckman. And with Boone looking so worried about me, too. It feels too nice a place to be, with them, to be wrong. “Uh, well, maybe… “

Then I look up, past Boone’s head and, by complete chance, on the blonde, brunette and ginger that have been the topic of the day…

And all of a sudden, momentary blind panic tears through me.

I jump up from my seat, the chair toppling down onto its back as I stand back on to my exhausted legs. it barely interrupts the volume of the room, so no one else really notices. But I do catch sight of Boone and Buckman’s faces, even more worried and a little bit hurt, before I stutter through an apology and an excuse about having to work, and I rush off back to the safety of my bar. Of course, Boone has been back here before, but I choose to ignore that little fact.

Theodore watches me with wide eyes, as all the tension in my person just grew to level a thousand intensity, as I call Jonathon over and ask him to take his lunch break now.

I don’t need any excuses to go and take my break. One of them, or both of them, might come and ask me if I’m okay. And I’m starting to forget why that’s such a bad thing, but I know there is a reason, and… Jesus Christ, I’ve never been so conflicted.

Because yes, the world outside of Pleasant Valley has come far. Like I said to Theodore, it’s a ‘whole new world’ compared to what it was when we were alive a century and a half ago.

But we’re in Pleasant Valley. And you only have to look around and see how different we dress and talk and move compared to these new present time people and you know; We aren’t part of that whole new world. Boone, Buckman and I don’t fit here.

Maybe if things were different.

Definitely if things were different, actually. I know, if they were, I would be there. I would be all in.

But I’m not and things aren’t different.

___

An hour later, and I’ve calmed down at this point. I still feel exhausted, now because I work so much and because of emotional baggage, but I don’t feel the racing heartbeat that made me sick before or the adrenaline that caused me to run away. So, it’s better… Stable again, at least.

I’ve convinced myself that if I don’t look their way. I can become numb again to the feelings they make in me. Its an idiotic notion, but its kind of the only thing keeping me still right now.

Merciless God, grant me a break. Amen.

The saloon is starting to quieten down for the night, as the light goes away outside and visitors disappear to their rooms -some with a partner they’ve only just met, some alone, some with friends they came with. It’s a big group this time, - upstairs in the hotel part of my building. I’m sitting back down in my stool behind the bench by the time the ‘throuple’-I’m still not sure about that word, - finally, FINALLY, decides to retire up to their room. I bid Jonathon a good night as he went home too, a little earlier to his wife and son, and waived shortly when Theodore pushed drunkenly off the bar and hobbled out the doors.

I lean heavily onto the bar myself, and watch the three go up the stairs together. The brunette’s holding the ginger’s hand now, and the blonde walks ahead of them and holds the key to their room.

After they disappear onto the second floor, I turn to look at who else I need to wait to leave, so I can go to bed myself. Mmm, I’ll take a long hot bath first, and light some candles to go with it. Most importantly, I’ll let my hair out of his too bloody tight ponytail!

“Ah, that’s sounds good.” I mutter, already imagining it as I push off the bench and go collect some plates and glasses that are left out on the tables and wipe them down for the last time today.

“Miss Y/N?” A familiar voice, Boone, calls the softest that I’ve ever heard it from the door. I look around quickly, ribbing the back of my aching neck to see no one else around. Huh, I hadn’t noticed I was alone.

It was nice.

Still, I flash her a tired, half smile. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

“I know. I’m sorry too. We should know at this point not to go so hard on you. You work all day harder than anyone, even Buckman but don’t tell him I said that.” She pauses, walking fully into my saloon and as if it were choreographed, we both sit down together at a table. “Actually, go ahead and tell him. Its true.” I grin despite myself, rolling my shoulders back and then leaning back in the chair- entirely taken over by exhaustion. I don’t even have energy to put up walls. Boone looks at me again and gives me a soft smile. “We want you to know always, that we care deeply for you, and whenever you’re ready you can join us. But… we also don’t want to stress you so much anymore. So, we’ll pull back- a little. If that pussy Miller tries anything on you again he will be dealt with.”

I nod, sighing. But, then again, why doesn’t that make me feel better? They’re going to leave me a bit more alone! I should feel relieved… but I do not. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I hate to see you so pent up.” A devious smirk touches her lips and her eyes. “I mean, I would like to help you with that in a different way then leaving you alone… But I will. Because I love you.”

I take a quick, deep breath. There it is. I never actually thought those actual three words would leave her lips aimed at me. But it’s the most natural thing in the world, tell her. “I love you too.” A wicked beam is my response from her at that.

“Can I hold yer hand?” Boone asks, offering her daintier hand across the table. Trying hard not to glance around for onlookers but failing, I take her hand.

It feels so nice, relieving, to hold it finally.

I take a deep breath, and whisper the next words. I want them out, I want to confide in someone. I’m sick of keeping everything to myself, I’m sick of being all alone. It’s by my own will, of course, but… it still hurts, all the same. “Boone, I-I’m just so… so weary, of everythi- “

Buckman interrupts me, turning up at the door. “Howdy, what’s going on in here?”

Boone ignore him, gathers up her skirts and gets to her feet. When she rounds the table to me, she drops them to the ground in favour of cupping my face in her hands instead. “I know. Why don’t you let go of one thing? Let us hold some of the load, sugar. Please.”

Finally, I can’t tell myself no. And I absolutely can’t tell her no. I glance from her to Buckman who has apparently read the atmosphere and now stands beside Boone. He smiles, like he always does at me. Like he feels it.

God, I want to feel a smile again.

And I lose the strength to do this all on my own anymore. I shakily get up from my seat and throw my arms around (You choose one or both, because I’m lazy and its bedtime for me).

#Horror Villains Oneshot #Granny Boone x Reader #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Granny Boone x Mayor Buckman #Oneshot #Fem Reader

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ddaenghoney · 5 years

Text

chapter six

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): none, just finally able to introduce Hoseok in this chapter lol

Word count: 5299

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

Yoongi’s eyes scan the weekly announcement email, not truly interested, yet still giving himself time to be thoroughly knowledgeable of upcoming events for his newfound colleagues and the company as a whole. Mentions of renovation in the lobby, a new coffee machine to be installed on the production floor along with a request to be more mindful of how this one is used, and the schedule for the practice rooms for the month remains unchanged for the last few weeks of January. Highlighted at the top of the email is the name of a mini album set to be released the first week in February along with parentheses beside it stating who would be releasing it: Park Jimin.

Reclining back in his seat, Yoongi regards the blue font notice in silence, wondering for a passing time of his involvement in the corruption between Jimin and you. He knows it’s not his fault, and knows you do too. Yet, there’s still guilt seeing Jimin’s name or hearing it anywhere. Still guilt felt in grazing his thumb against his index finger as a fidget when on the four dates so far where you’re forced in one way or another to recall Jimin’s existence. Yoongi has not apologized about it since the first date, but it doesn’t change that he feels like he should if only to assure you that the hurt you try and hide each time doesn’t need to be hidden for the atmosphere’s sake.

The foot on the floor pushes his desk seat into a small back and forth sway. He doesn’t think of your mutual problems often, just reminded every time an email requests the two of you go on a date, like the one to come that evening. By this point you’re both amicable at least, even going on the limb of saying something like friends. Maybe. It’s hard not to when you’re both forced into two or more hours of conversation. It’s something like friendship. Maybe closer to friendly coworkers. He doesn’t know. Yoongi sighs, spinning an entire slow revolution in his chair, then stopping promptly with the sound of his phone’s text notification.

Two unread.

Y/N, 4:38pm: Just got asked to go to a last second meeting. Probably will be out closer to 6:30 instead of 6:00, sorry.

Yoongi, 4:39pm: That’s fine no worries.

He exits the message thread to check on the other notification. He stares at Hoseok’s name for a second and the few words he’s able to see before opening the chat. Yoongi inhales, rubbing his jaw, while clicking it open with his free hand.

Hoseok, 3:57pm: I think enough time has passed... I’m going to start going for a new comeback now! You’re required to pre-order whenever the album is done!

Yoongi, 4:42pm: Ah, is that a fact?

Yoongi’s hand falls from his jaw to type quicker,

Yoongi, 4:43pm: I’ll help you make it however you need.

Hoseok, 4:45pm: Thanks, man.

Hoseok, 4:48pm: I’m nervous still haha

The phone rests on the desk, Yoongi’s hand resting beside it while he looks at the screen. He tilts his neck as a stretch, thoughtfully. Uncertain of how this would turn out for Hoseok. Wishing for the best. Trying to be hopeful. The dissention of early last year comes back into Yoongi’s mind. The unfair treatment, and watching his best friend go through the invasive camera lights daily, and the pouring stream of interrogative comments throughout social media. The blame that had no place linking to Hoseok when their old company decided to sell out to SoundWave as Hoseok’s contract was torn to pieces.

Yoongi, 4:56pm: You deserve the new beginning if anyone does. It’ll work out.

Hoseok, 5:00pm: Bro…

Yoongi, 5:00pm: You ruined it.

Hoseok, 5:01pm: Haha, I know……… Thanks Yoongi.

The final two words feel somber in Yoongi’s mouth. Drying. He doesn’t deserve to be thanked for anything, when he was quiet watching what happened. He could’ve done something to stop it all. Maybe Hoseok would have a studio next door to Yoongi’s still if more had been done to help. To disprove the wrong perspectives in the public. But it’s not in his persona to care like that.

He sighs, pressing the lock on his device. Index finger taps on the space below his keyboard, the desktop monitor powering off onto the screensaver. Yoongi feels like he should scoff at himself in judgement. How was he ever appalled by your lie when he’s no different.

---

You contemplate sending Namjoon a text, but acknowledge the busy time of the day for him and refrain. Instead you wallow in the quiet, staring at your notes while listening to the arranger and producers beside you editing your song by means of scribbling pencils. You hope they ask you something greater than questioning an affirmative of their ideas for changing the words on the track. Apparently the theme is appropriate, but the verbiage itself doesn’t fit the fast beat pace the producer intends to make this track into.

Jimin is across from you, equally to himself. He scrolls through his phone, appearing collected. He said hello to you sweetly, politely when he walked in with the producer. You didn’t realize he would be joining the impromptu meeting. It was just the producer that had texted you about it, mentioning the arranger also tagging along. Not Jimin. You knew he was using this song, but you didn’t think he needs to be here.

“Jimin, your choreographer is going to thank me for this one. I already know it.” The producer is happy, and granted you’re not entirely angry at the changes he makes on the paper. They’re minor, the meaning is still there. Your touch deteriorates only slightly, and it’s something that’s involved commonly throughout song conception processes. You don’t care about that, you really don’t. Maybe you’re even spitefully happy about the changes too, because it means less you, less for you to be bothered by in the credential section. Less you in lyrics Jimin sings.

“You’re only doing the touch-ups though.” Jimin voice is light-hearted, his playing smile small, yet meaningful. You keep your eyes towards the producer’s writing hand. Bite your lip when the message is properly conveyed to him by notice of his reply,

“You’re right, Y/N’s work is great, like usual.” He agrees sincerely, giving you a thumbs-up with his left hand. You smile softly, just managing a head nod. “Sorry about the random meeting too, by the way. I would’ve waited until tomorrow if we didn’t have to redo the recording for the album he’s going to be releasing.”

“It’s not a big deal. I was here anyways.” You tell him calmly, catching sight of Jimin when you adjust in your chair. He’s gentle in appearance like usual, watching you only because you were speaking. When the sentence ends you see the twitch of an upward smile that he smothers and instead goes back to his phone.

“You’re here more now that the whole fake dating thing is happening, huh?” The arranger’s comment is absent of ill-intent, you realize as he rubs his neck in a stupor as he goes on, “I can’t imagine how weird that has to be. SUGA’s new to the company too; must feel random to be matched up with him, right?”

“Yeah,” You say vaguely, hands in your lap messing around with one another as you hope for a new topic. “Yoongi’s been nice about it all though.” You blab softly, unable to see Jimin’s thumbs unmoving as he no longer pays attention to his phone screen despite his eyes pointing to it.

“He’s cool, I’ve done a couple of things to help him with his production lately.” The man beside you nods as he speaks, settling the pen beside the papers. “Really particular about his stuff, but because he does practically all of it himself, it makes sense.”

“Can I see the revised version?” You interject calmly, receiving the notes from him as he immediately nods, handing it off. You scan through the tiny adjustments, thinking on your own of what potential ideas they had to change the pace of the song.

“None of it’s too crazy, I don’t think, but if anything’s too much let me know.”

“No, it’s all okay with me.” You don’t mind the scribbles, but have even less desire to combat things lately since the meeting with Yerin.

“Can I take a look?” Jimin’s voice calls out to you, and you face him. Small nod as you reach the small distance to slide the papers towards him, then startle as the producer stands up beside you,

“Crap, I need to get to a session downstairs right now. Just get that to my studio when you’re done, Jimin.” He says and you watch using every muscle to refrain wonder at why the arranger also stood too. You instead mentally curse at him saying he’d tag along since he was done for the day as well. You curse again at the sound of the door, glaring at the sight at that point.

“I’ll give it to him like he asked.” Jimin breaks the silence, eyes trailing still at the page of lyrics. You look towards him, erect in your seat but unwilling to stand yet. You recall leaving before he woke up the last night you were with him, and the incredible drought of communication since then. But is it really this easy for him to be casual. Your eyes wait to meet his when he finally lifts them up from the sheet.

“I liked the pink hair.” You murmur as a comment, trying to fill the void of quiet, give yourself a reason to linger there a little longer and see the state of his thoughts towards you. “Well, the brown is nice too though.” You correct with a tiny shrug, feeling a larger pang in your chest when Jimin doesn’t stop his smile this time.

“I liked it too.” He lays the paper flat, but his fingers remain on its edge. You think of other ways to continue the conversation, and shove the thought of asking him simply how he is to the corner of your mind. You’re already staying back with him for no reason, you don’t want to seem completely tangled with missing him. “You and Yoongi...” Jimin begins, and the mere mention of you two makes you want to groan, hoping against this turning into a conversation about your precarious fake relationship when you wanted to focus on Jimin and you. “You don’t have to do anything too much, right?”

You narrow your eyes in confusion. Jimin reaches for his hair, fiddling as he goes on, concern twinging, “Like, nothing you don’t want to do, lo-”

He stops, nearly biting his tongue to do so. You notice. Your hands grip on your jeans, trying to discern if the slip was just because the term of endearment is something he’s so used to calling you, or if there is something more. You watch his index finger barely scratch at the paper on the table. Nervous.

“The whole relationship is something I don’t want to do.” Your sentence is dry, matched with your dismissive shrug. You know that isn’t what Jimin meant, but you don’t expect his head shaking and body becoming more straightened in posture,

“That’s not what I meant.” Jimin says directly, biting the inside of his cheek as he considers explaining himself further. You free him of doing that, nodding.

“I know.” He noticeably pauses, nearing a flustered expression and you almost want to smile in endearment, but you still feel more sad than anything. Confused. “Sorry,” You finally avert your gaze to the table, collecting your few items. “We’re not being forced into anything else though.” You explain while Jimin watches you move around.

Words clutter in his mouth, wondering what to say to keep you in the room, but knowing he shouldn’t. Can’t. He’s the one who ended it. He didn’t want to, but he did.

“Do you miss us?”

Jimin’s heartbeat increases, while yours secretly does as well. The question blurted from your lips in a moment of impulse that built from the second you saw him that day. Dumb, stupid; you want to take the question back, you don’t need his answer. You want it, but you shouldn’t have it in your thoughts whether it’s a yes or a no.

What difference would it make if he said yes and you returned back to how you were. He was right-- Namjoon was right, you’re own screaming logic is right: a secret untrue relationship wouldn’t last and it would only serve to hurt you in the long run. This situation that you both stand in is exactly because you made up the stupid idea in the first place. You should’ve let the first kiss be the last one. Just because you ended up falling in love, doesn’t mean Jimin did.

Jimin’s made it clear that the answer is no. Why do you want to hear him vocalize the no. Maybe a sick part of your mind wanted the words to be engraved so you can take it as a bridge burned to char. If he said no you could move on. That’s how it could work. Maybe it would actually be enough, in that off-chance-

“Of course.” Jimin’s voice whispers the words like they were heavy to push out of his lips. But you could ignore that, wrapped in the potential- “But I don’t want to get back together like we were.” He’s no longer making eye contact with you, busying his fingers further into his locks. “It hurts us both being hidden like that,” You open your mouth to interject that you could live with it, that it’s not necessarily a long-term state of being, but he speaks on, crushing you, “And I don’t want to be your actual boyfriend.”

The counterargument abandons your psyche entirely. The truth of the situation is apparent. Jimin’s made it apparent. The extent of what you were to him was just lust. His casual demeanor makes sense. Your lingering feelings are the minority, not mutually felt.

“Ah,” Your head nods even though Jimin’s not looking up at you. His statement burns more as you stand in the same room as him. “When you put it like that,” Jimin lifts his head, and you don’t know whether to register his expression as sad or not, because why would he be sad. Conflicted, likely. “It makes sense we’d stop then.” You continue to nod, stepping once towards the door, “Sorry. I got the wrong idea.”

You continue in your exit, ignoring anything he may try and do in response, because you didn’t want to be pitied on top of everything else. You let the sound of chairs clattering behind you drift into the background, and slipped out of the room without another word heard.

Yoongi’s studio is on the same floor, and easy to find in a matter of moments. You usually meet him at the lobby, but you don’t think of that as your phone’s clock reads twenty past six and you knock on the frosted glass door. After three soft pounds do you take note of the tiny doorbell that is likely more effective. The small device’s appearance makes you sigh, thinking of how idiotic you were about not seeing it, how idiotic in general.

“Y/N?” You don’t realize he’s opened the door until Yoongi’s voice disrupts your misguided thoughts. You look up towards him. Yoongi can see the straining expression to appear indifferent, but it fails completely this time just in appearance alone. “Are you okay?”

“Not really, but we have a dumb date to go on.” You huff, reaching both of your hands to rub your face. Yoongi remains quiet, already not fond of the dates when you were both in at least average moods, but seeing you like this makes him hate the idea even more.

“There’s no time schedule.” He says simply, you narrow your eyes towards him in a lack of understanding, then your shoulders relax as he steps back opening the door wider. “Want to hear some of the stuff I’ve been working on and we can go out later when we’re both starving instead?”

You think of his consideration for your temperament and feel a little bad that Yoongi feels the need to accommodate, but you step inside anyways. It isn’t like he enjoys the dating, and putting it off for a while sounds like the best option. Not to mention, dismissing his attempts at kindness wouldn’t be best either.

Besides, you can’t say you weren’t curious at the prospect of listening to what Yoongi’s been working on.

You glance around the studio, noting the organized arrangements overall, yet homely in some aspects as well. The decor is limited to a few wall posters and mostly bare shelving, but his couch area looks like it isn’t new at all. The couch in particular looks a bit worn, and cluttered with a couple of blankets and a pillow. His small coffee table has only a single empty plastic cup on it, but you figure he keeps the place tidy or else there would definitely be more evidence of his caffeine vice than currently appearing.

“If you want to use the couch you can. I have some wireless headphones,” Yoongi tells you as he goes to the highlight of the room: a desk space covering the entirety of the wall. Bright with various electronic equipment and brand names that also inhabit space in your own apartment. But here the space appears validated by its placement in the company walls.

You sit on the edge of the couch, hands resting on his lap as you continue looking around the studio. It’s definitely one of the larger ones. Yoongi hands you the pair of headphones, and you situated them over your ears while he goes on in speech. “Whoa, wait what?” You cut in quickly, causing him to look back at you while he sits in his desk chair. “These things are really noise cancelling, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi chuckles, rubbing his hair back from his face. “I was just saying I need to decorate more, but haven’t got around to it.” He slips a pair of headphones on too, leaving one ear free. “This is going to sound really rough, and there’s a gap where I’m waiting on someone to fill with vocals.”

You nod, smiling in anticipation without realizing so. The sight makes Yoongi glance away, biting his lip in sudden worry the track won’t sound as great as you may anticipate. He clicks to start anyways, listening in his own ears and simply keeping his eyes on the screen watching the point on the timeline move along.

Behind him you sit back into the cushion, trying to take in everything in one listen, despite the different levels of the song meshing together perfectly. Yoongi’s voice sounds completed in the song already, like he’s already reached a point of contentment in the sound in your opinion. “Your lyrics are really good.” You say, head swaying with the beat, staring at the empty cup instead of seeing if he’d turn to respond to you.

Yoongi catches the comment, tapping his finger on the desk, lips tightening and forming more pliable peaks on his cheeks from holding back a proud smile. He waits until the fade out, before finally facing you once more. Angles his chair slightly towards you, not all the way, trying to appear more calm than anything despite nerves still simmering quietly in his stomach because you are the first to hear this particular demo.

“Did you hear me about your lyrics?” You ask right away, sliding the headphones to rest atop your shoulders. Yoongi nods softly, mumbling about not wanting to interrupt when you were listening to say thanks. “They really, really are good.” You say again anyways, smile growing wider as Yoongi reaches to fiddle with his hair,

“Thanks again.” His voice is still quiet, something bashful about it as well. Satisfied, you think, but you continue on anyways,

“And your voice is controlled, like usual.” You sigh, leaning back, “I can’t get over it; you’re so great at singing and rapping.” Yoongi just shrugs, but you miss it while you adjust your sleeves off of your hands. “For it being incomplete, I’d still listen to it, even without the other person you’re waiting on.” Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head,

“That’s too high of praise, you’re messing with me now.”

“I’m not.” You interject firmly, sitting upright. Yoongi looks at you silently, but breaks it by rubbing his neck and speaking sincerely,

“Well, thank you. I was kind of nervous about this one actually. It’s pretty different than other songs I’ve made.”

“Yeah, it’s really on the edge of your usual stuff, I think.” You nod in agreement, settling your hand on your chin while you ponder. “But I’m sure it’ll do well. Besides what’s a better time to try new things than now, right?”

“I wanted to make it last year, actually.” Yoongi shifts on his chair, clicking open an email notification. The title reads a clothing brand, and he shuts it as he goes on and for a moment scrolls through other emails in case he’s missed anything important. “It was busy with the merger going on though. But the beat is inspired by a friend of mine’s style.”

You let the information fall into space, interested by the mention of a musical inspiration. You scan any ideas, but ultimately feel like you don’t know enough about Yoongi at all to make any verbal assumptions so you just joke, “Jin?”

“Oh,” You watch Yoongi pause, and turn on his seat, looking at you with widened eyes, “How’d you know?”

“Wait really?” Your eyes grow wide as well as the image of Seokjin passes through your mind as a music producer-

“No.”

“Hey,” Your eyes immediately narrow, paired ironically with reddening embarrassment in your face. Yoongi just scoffs, then all together laughs as you defiantly cross your arms. “Rude,” You mutter as his lips continue releasing his entirely humored melody. “He could’ve; you don’t know.”

“I don’t?” He counters, slumping back into his chair and looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s performed an entire masterpiece with chopsticks and shot glasses before, so, yeah, you don’t.” You try to refrain from releasing any of your own smiling, maintaining a serious gaze towards Yoongi as he believes none of it and nods once.

“I live to be proven wrong, I guess.” He turns to face his computer once more, rearranging the opened windows as though he intends to continue working like he had before you stopped by. At this realization your arms relax, and you think about what you should do so not to bother him, maybe grab coffee to bide the time, or mindlessly watch YouTube videos on your phone.

Yoongi interrupts the thoughts, “It might not be my place to offer, but if you ever wanted to talk--or vent about,” His head tilts as he decides against specific topics, “Anything… I’d listen.” His hand sits still on the mouse, hoping he doesn’t sound like he’s trying to overstep. Though with all the trouble you seem to have, Yoongi tries to ignore that worry, allowing the innocent concern to lead the offer along.

“I probably look like I’m always down about something, right?” Your voice trickles embarrassment and spite, sighing as you rub your hair and angle your neck towards his coffee table. Frankly, it’s tiring to continue each day dismayed by the amount of circumstances left out of your control. Quietly having to accept so much that no one else seems to have to bother with, especially where songwriting is concerned.

“Not always, no.” Yoongi responds, eyes on the monitor though he’s looking at nothing. Contemplative of phrasing. “But a lot has happened the past month, and not much of it is good for you. I may not be your closest friend, but I think anyone seeing you pretend to be okay this often would wonder if you want to talk.”

You stare at the glossy wood, thinking of the interaction between you and Jimin not long ago. Being the first time you had spoken to him, you hoped it would’ve been better, maybe even telling for what the future could hold, but that was all wishful thinking in the end. He still left. Still keeps an arm’s distance. “I just,” You pause feeling the air in your throat that you hadn’t expected to cloud your sentence. You swallow it down and bite your lip, noticing Yoongi’s movement in your peripherals as he faces you slightly. Likely checking. Your voice probably sounded ridiculous.

“It’s okay to not speak too. Whenever you’re ready.”

The sentiment feels as comforting as the way Yoongi’s voice says the words. Absent of condescension, wholly gentle and patient. Putting his ideas of what he thought of you when you met and he found out about your job aside, to simply focus on your troubles. Understanding when he really didn’t have to be. Even if you both were amicable, and freshly titled friends like he said; it’s not like Yoongi needed to offer a metaphorical shoulder, or a penny for your thoughts without an expiration date. The action gives you a tug forward.

“Jimin was at the meeting and I didn’t think he’d be there.” You finally murmur, trying to avoid eye contact as though the words itching to leave your mouth would hide if you did. “I didn’t want to break up with him--or,” You sigh, rubbing your hair as your head shakes, “We weren’t a couple, I can’t really call it a break up, huh?” You rhetorically question feelings silly for being wrapped up in this relationship when it wasn’t a proper one to begin with. “I just didn’t want it to end.” The words fade, spacing even more as you ponder sadly, “And seeing him doing well-- even though he said he misses us, it just makes me feel like I’m the only one unable to push forward.”

In the very least, Jimin’s more in control of himself than you’re showing to be. Strongly believing this is the best way to handle the problems that existed in the relationship and unmoving about it. If you think about it like that, then maybe it would be better to try and adhere to this idea, even with your feelings for him. If they aren’t reciprocated feelings, there really is no worth in you continuously falling deeper and deeper. It was always bound to hurt, you just wish it could have happened later; like you would whenever the separation inevitably happened.

“Whether it takes you longer than him or not to work through this isn’t a problem. I think you should let yourself take as long as you need.” Yoongi gazes without focus at an empty shelf he plans to display albums of artists he’s collaborated with. Considering the closeness you and Jimin evidently had, it’s completely acceptable that you would be saddened by it all, and for all Yoongi knows the relationship could’ve had knots and twists that he’d never guessed that would garner the need for you to take months to heal. “Also,” He starts, though he considers not saying anything at all in case it may be a statement he doesn’t have the right to speak to, but recalling all of the instances thus far that he’s been unable to help you at all, he lets himself finish, “I don’t think you should shove all of it down either… I bet that feels suffocating.”

You bite your lip, almost embarrassed that he’s noticed how upset you’ve been despite having known you only a couple of months. You thought you have done well so far to at least appear normal, but with Yoongi spending hours of random days solely with you, it’s plausible he has simply caught on. Somehow the fact alone didn’t feel bad. In the same way that you had Namjoon to turn to because he knows everything that’s going on, it feels comforting that Yoongi is there as well. At least in his accepting way, whether it’s deeper than that, you don’t know and lean towards doubt if only because you’re both not on close terms.

“So I should just cry in the middle of our dates?” You try at a joke, but the smile you give him is appreciative of his advice. Yoongi glances to you, chair still angled to the wall. He hears the slightly joking tone and shrugs to it,

“If you do it gives us an excuse to go home.” You giggle at the fact and don’t mention that Yerin would likely end up irritated by you both appearing like a mess in public.

“I’ll cry one week, and you cry the next then.” You tease, scooting further into his couch and realizing that its incredible plushness is why it’s worn and Yoongi’s likely kept it since his last company. He laughs at the idea, nodding his head, relaxing himself now that you seem a little better, or at least, he hopes, less inclined to force yourself to act happy. “Thanks, for letting me talk a little, by the way.” A quieter, sincere tone. Before he’s able to respond you continue, “It means a lot to me that you wanted to help. I know I’m kind of, I guess, distant with my feelings, but it’s nice to feel like I don’t have to hide it all with someone around the company. I won’t bother you with myself though, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about that.” Yoongi discerns the idea you may feel annoying and softly diverts the thought away. “Besides sometimes it’s okay to be selfish and rant anyways. You’re just trying to help yourself.” He glances to his computer as you only respond with a nod, perhaps not entirely believing his words, but that could be a building process. “Hey, actually, while we’re here, and since you’re a producer,” You lift your head up, immediately curious as he mentions the title. “You want to help me play around with this song idea I’ve been messing with for the past week?”

“Wait, really?” You practically beam the words like sunlight, refraining from a flustered smile at the idea, but Yoongi can tell by how you sit up that you’re more than willing.

“Yeah, I’m not really getting anywhere with it, and since I know you’re the one who wrote practically all of the songs I liked from this company, of course I’d want to work with you.” The growing smile on your face almost makes Yoongi feel embarrassed as well that you found the request so appealing. He briefly chuckles as you start to nod, and he smiles brightly asking in bewilderment,

“Is it that exciting? It’s just me who’s offering, anyways.”

“Says the guy who’s made so much music that I love.” Yoongi bites his lip, smile not hiding at the joy. Emulating your sudden upbeat demeanor, simply because it felt infectious, Yoongi gestures to his computer,

“Well then since we both love each other’s stuff, let’s make it the collaboration of the year.” A light-hearted joke, but you and Yoongi mutually think it’s suddenly an exciting idea to work with one another on a song. So you’re up to your feet in seconds, taking the few steps towards his work area as he clicks around the screen,

“Wait, you don’t expect me to stand and help do you?”

“Oh, right, I’ll get a chair.”

if you enjoy please, please let me know! i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi

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annzybwrites · 5 years

Text

Truth or Dare: Coming Out Edition (Chapter 1: Information Time)

Read on AO3 | Donate to my Ko-Fi if you like | Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6

A South Park Fanfiction Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch Characters: Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick, Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Token Black, Clyde Donovan, Jimmy Valmer, Timmy Burch Additional Tags: Established Relationship, mentioning of underaged sexual acts but nothing explicit, Swearing, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Comedy Summary: Tweek does NOT want to attend the annual sleepover that his boyfriend and eight other boys have every winter, because he does NOT want to play Truth or Dare. He knows he’ll be dared to do so many embarrassing things!! But wait, wait, wait… the attention ISN’T on him? It’s on some of the other boys?? No way - there’s other gay couples in the school??

Chapter 1: Information Time

To say Tweek was nervous was an understatement. He’d chewed all of his fingernails down to the bed, pulled out three buttons on his shirt, and even ripped out some of his hair today, and still he couldn’t get rid of the shaky, quaking sensation in his stomach as he thought about tonight. Tonight, when he was attending a sleepover with nine other boys from school, including his boyfriend, Craig. It was a big sleepover they had tried to plan every year since sixth grade, sometime around Christmas. They were in eighth grade now, and Tweek had managed to get out of it for the past two years - the first year with a fake illness and last year with a real one. Don’t get him wrong, he’d love to have a sleepover with everyone, but he knew what would happen if they did.

He knew they’d play Truth or Dare.

And he knew that everyone would dare him and Craig to do embarrassing couple things! Or ask them embarrassing questions about their relationship!! And he really didn’t wanna be forced into that!!!

The only reason he was going this year was because of Clyde. He had said he didn’t care if Tweek was sick this year and that he’d just shove a face mask over his mouth and drag Tweek to Token’s house himself if he had to. Plus, Craig had looked so sad when he asked Tweek to try and be healthy enough to come, and there was no way Tweek wanted to see that look on his face again.

Currently he was finishing packing up for the night. Craig was laying on his bed with Stripe while Tweek was trying to fold his outfit for tomorrow, but shaking too much to do it right. “Ah!” he screamed in frustration and threw it on the ground.

“Tweek.” His bed creaked as Craig got off of it and walked towards him, Stripe resting on top of his hat. “I’ll fold, okay? Go grab your bathroom bag.”

“Right!!” Tweek shoved his clothes at Craig before walking stiffly to his bathroom. He didn’t want to do this! He didn’t want to sleepover!! He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of everyone just for their amusement!!! Yet here he was, preparing for a sleepover he didn’t even want! He didn’t understand why Craig wanted to do it either! Surely he had already been asked embarrassing questions at the last two sleepovers! Why would he want to be asked more?! He groaned to himself as he opened up his bathroom mirror and grabbed his little travel bag of toiletries. He always kept a little bag filled with a travel toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and deodorant. You never know when you’ll need to leave in a hurry.

When he came back to his room, Craig had everything else folded and packed up neatly in his little duffel bag, and Stripe was back in his cage. “Got it, babe?” he asked, his own sleepover bag slung over his shoulder. His face was as neutral as ever, except for the excited little rise in his eyebrows. It made Tweek relax a little. If Craig was saying it’d be a fun night, he’d try and believe him.

“Yeah, I got it.” He hurried over and shoved it in his bag before zipping it and standing up. “Let’s go.”

“Sure you got everything?” Craig asked, holding out his finger to start counting off. “Pajamas, change of clothes, underwear, White Elephant gift -”

“I got it, Craig!” Tweek huffed, bumping their hips together. Well, bumping his hip against the top of Craig’s thigh, but it was the same thing. “Let’s just go to this stupid thing already.”

“I don’t want you leaving the sleepover to pick up something you forgot,” Craig told him simply, the left corner of his mouth dropping every so slightly into a frown.

“I didn’t forget anything!” Tweek promised, looking away. “Can we just go?!”

Tweek could feel his blood pressure rising the longer Craig just stared at him.

“Stop staring!”

“Sorry.” Craig sighed, shoving his free hand in his pocket. “It’s just… I know you didn’t want to come to the sleepover for some reason.”

“What?” Tweek snapped his head over to him, eyes wide in alarm. “Why would you think that? I was just sick the last two years -!”

“Yeah, what a coincidence.” Craig rolled his eyes. “Tweek, just tell me why you don’t wanna come, okay? I wanna know.”

Tweek bit at his lip, looking down at the floor. His first reaction was to argue that he did want to go, but what was the point? Craig would just get mad at him if he kept lying. “All right, fine!” Tweek shut his eyes as he rattled off, “I just don’t wanna be asked stupid couple questions, all right?! I don’t wanna be asked how much we kiss or if we’ve talked about sex!! Or, or be dared to kiss you, or sit in your lap, or whatever they dare couples to do during truth or dare!!”

When Tweek opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see a slight pink tinge in Craig’s cheeks, his eyes widened about two millimeters all around. “... Oh.” It was obvious he hadn’t even thought about that. “Fuck, you have a point.”

“Of course I do!” Tweek hissed. He groaned and covered his face. “God, I don’t want to do this!!”

“It’ll be okay, Tweek,” Craig promised, stepping over to place a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think the attention will be on us tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t it be on us?!” Tweek yelled, throwing his hands back to his sides. “We’re the only gay couple in the school! And Clyde is fucking obsessed with us, I swear!!”

“... Okay, we might have all of Clyde’s attention,” Craig admitted, “but I promise that’ll be it.”

“How can you be so sure!!?”

“Just trust me,” Craig spoke cryptically as he squeezed Tweek’s shoulder. “You’ll see what I mean when we get there.”

“You better be right, Craig,” Tweek mumbled, his left eye twitching.

Craig did his little frown again and kissed his forehead, dropping his bag to the floor. “Close your eyes.”

Tweek already knew what was coming and sighed. “Craig, I’m fine -”

“Please, honey?”

“Nnngh!” Tweek made a sound of complaint, but complied anyway and just closed his eyes, his left lid still twitching. He tried to keep his breathing even as he felt Craig dig his fingers into his hair, cupping the back of his head, yet he still jumped when he felt it: the slightest pressure of Craig’s thumbs against his eyelids, trying to relax his twitching with touch. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as Craig gently rubbed his thumbs from side to side, as if trying to smooth out a bed comforter. He was never quite sure how to feel about this. The touch did calm him down, Craig wouldn’t be doing this if it hadn’t proved effective before, but Tweek was still just so used to letting his twitches pass, or trying to calm them himself, that it felt strange to let someone else calm them.

After only a few moments, Tweek’s eye twitch was gone, and Craig finished his little relaxation technique with a kiss to both of his eyelids. That was Tweek’s favorite part, ever since he had read that a kiss on the eyelid meant “deep affection.” His whole face felt tingly after getting one.

“That was completely unnecessary,” Tweek mumbled, opening his eyes slowly as if he expected those lips to come in for another kiss. He felt heat on the back of his neck as he took in the small grin on Craig’s face.

“Maybe I just wanted to touch you, babe.”

Tweek knew he was blushing now as he pushed at Craig’s chest. “Ugh! Let’s just go already!! You know you can’t do stuff like that at the sleepover, right?!”

“I’ll behave,” Craig told him, chuckling as he slipped his hand in Tweek’s and picked up his bag again with the other. “Don’t stress about tonight, honey - you get three passes during Truth or Dare if you really don’t wanna do something.”

“Really?” Tweek brightened, already feeling better at the prospect of being able to skip something. “Sweet!”

“Yeah, sweet.” Craig nodded in agreement, and without another word they were walking off.

Tweek was always fascinated with how they walked together. Since Craig was almost a foot taller than him, really they shouldn’t be able to walk hand in hand so easily. But, since Craig had long, slow strides, and he had small, fast ones, he was able to take two and a half steps for every one of Craig’s, so it worked out pretty well. It always filled him with pride when Craig said that he was the only short person he knew who could keep up with him.

Pretty soon they had walked all the way to Token’s house, and Tweek’s nerves returned tenfold as Craig rang the doorbell. “Oh, god,” he muttered, causing Craig to squeeze his hand tighter.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“You better be right,” Tweek hissed just as Clyde answered the door, smiling ear to ear.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovebirds! So nice of you to join us, Craig, Tweek.”

Tweek shivered and looked away from Clyde’s accusing gaze, stammering nervously. “Yeah! I f-felt good enough this year!”

“Fuck off,” Craig told his best friend, flipping him the bird. “Leave Tweek alone.”

Clyde whined and latched onto Craig’s arm, not caring if his middle finger was pressing hard against his face. Since he was only six inches shorter than Craig, he was able to stare into those cold blue eyes much easier. “No way! I won’t have my best friend all to myself tonight - of course I’m sad!”

Craig rolled his eyes and pulled his arm back just so he could wrap it around his shoulders and give Clyde a one-armed hug. “You were the one who threatened to drag him here.”

Clyde latched onto him immediately, making Tweek smile. It was always funny to him how Craig had an emotional best friend and boyfriend while he himself was so emotionally bland.

“Because!” Clyde was exasperated. “I knew you’d just mope if Tweek ditched us for a third year in a row!”

Tweek exchanged a glance with Craig, who was a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t mope -”

“Clyde!” Token’s voice was heard from somewhere in the house. “Who’s at the door?”

“TWEEK AND CRAIG!” Clyde yelled back, making no move to stop hugging Craig.

Token waited a good five seconds before calling again. “Aaaaaand are you letting them in?”

“In a minute!!” Clyde pretended to huff like one of the goth kids. “God, mom!”

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, son!”

Tweek started laughing and put a hand up to cover his face. Their insistence to assign a “family roll” to everyone in their friend group was so ridiculous, but kind of endearing. “Oh my god. Who’s the dad, again?”

“Jimmy, obviously,” Clyde replied as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. He grinned and squeezed Craig as tight as he could. “And Craig’s my older brother!”

Craig smiled softly and ruffled Clyde’s hair. “The best older brother you’ve ever had.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Do I have a role?” Tweek was curious.

“Other than being Craig’s husband?”

“Clyde.” Craig shoved his friend’s head away before pulling Tweek into the house, the latter almost tripping from the sudden movement. “Shut up. Tweek can be...” Craig had to think for a moment. When he couldn’t come up with anything he decided to flirt instead. “Tweek can be the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Tweek blushed and looked away, squeezing Craig’s hand to let him know he appreciated the sentiment.

Clyde, on the other hand, just snorted. “Yeah, so your husband.” He slammed the front door shut as if to enunciate his point.

“Do you see any rings?” Craig pointed out logically, holding out his left hand for Clyde to see.

“We’re way too young for that!!” Tweek agreed, scrunching his face up as he thought about it. God, that was way too much commitment for an eighth grader!

Clyde sighed and came up between them, wrapping his arms around both sets of their shoulders. It was a little awkward for him because of the height difference between Tweek and Craig, and because the couple’s hands were still linked together, but he made it work. “Oh, you two. Just accept the future already!”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Craig snorted, knocking his and Tweek’s hand into Clyde’s stomach so he’d back off a little. “Come on, Tweek - let’s find dear old mom and dad.”

“They’re in the Entertainment room!” Clyde exclaimed excitedly, running off ahead of them. “And I have dibs on the left recliner!”

“Literally only you care about that.”

“Whatever, I still have dibs!”

Craig exhaled sharply through his nostrils in place of a laugh, which is how he usually laughed anyway. He glanced at Tweek, squeezing his hand to get his attention. “You okay?”

Tweek nodded. He liked how thoughtful Craig was to him. He knew Tweek didn’t want to be here, so he knew that this social situation would drain him more quickly than others, so he was checking up on him. It was nice. Just another reason he was glad they were together for real now. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Craig started taking off his shoes, so Tweek followed suit. “Ask me again when Stan’s group gets here.”

Craig did his short, silent laugh again, this time accompanied with a grin. He enjoyed it when Tweek got snarky. “Come on, you like those guys.”

“I know!” Tweek was distracted, adjusting his duffel bag over his shoulder as they walked. “But they still always get into major trouble! Just last week they brought live grenades to school - who does that!? Where did they even get them from!!”

“I think Stan’s uncle.”

“Why would he give grenades to children!?”

“Because he’s an idiot?”

“... Ugh !” Tweek pouted at him. “Always logical, huh?”

“Just call me Mr. Spock.”

Tweek snorted and bumped his hip against Craig’s leg. “I’ll call you Captain Dork instead.”

“Nah, that’s you.” Craig argued, smiling just a little more.

Tweek rolled his eyes, but he was also smiling as they made it to the Entertainment Room. And by “room,” think “theater with red carpeting.” One of the walls was completely covered with a giant television, minus the small shelf it was perched over that contained literally every game console on the planet. The opposite wall was a bookshelf full of DVDs and video games. The other two walls were a rich, red color with dim lights lining up the sides; one held a popcorn machine, soda fountain, and candy display case, while the other wall had a long, white, ornate counter that you could place whatever snacks you wanted on it. In the middle was a fancy, red-leather couch, two recliners, and a few bean bag chairs.

Clyde, Token, Jimmy, and Timmy were invested in an intense game of Mario Kart at the moment, but each of them greeted them with distracted grunts when they arrived. Token was laying on his stomach on a purple bean bag, Clyde was in his favorite recliner, Jimmy perched himself on the middle of the couch, and Timmy had his chair, of course.

“Where do you usually sit?” Tweek asked Craig, wondering how this room stayed so clean. He couldn’t imagine Token’s guests being very careful about not leaving stains.

“Here.” He pulled Tweek over to the other recliner, which was just small enough to ensure their sides would be comfortably pressed against each other. “We’ll fit.”

Tweek resisted the urge to smile and fell back into it, Craig following suit soon enough. “Lift our feet up, long arms.”

“Of course.” Craig snorted and pushed the button on the side of the chair so it would slowly bring their legs up. He started making a low, little “ooo” sound affect as it did, and Tweek had to cover his mouth as he started to laugh.

“Knock it off !” He buried his face against Craig’s shoulder, still laughing a little. “God, you’re so weird.”

“But you like it.”

“Hey, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,” Token called without looking away from the TV. “Your flirting is distracting.”

“I told you they were more mushy in the evening. Augh!” Clyde threw the controller down when his kart fell off the track and he had to be picked up by the little cloud.

“Timmy!” Timmy laughed and turned to give them a grin that made Tweek’s insides melt into his socks.

“Aw, come on, guys,” Jimmy spoke up, “leave them al-l-lone. We should be ha-appy for them.”

“I call next game,” Craig interrupted. His strategy was usually to act like all of his friends weren’t commenting on his love life when they all ganged up on him like this. Tweek smiled a little and snuggled into his side more, appreciating how level-headed Craig could be. “You know, when Clyde inevitably comes last.”

“Hey!” Clyde started to tear up as he glared at his best friend. “Why do you assume I’ll come in last!”

“Well, you are in last right now,” Token pointed out. “And it’s only the first lap.”

“You’re pr-pretty bad at this, Clyde.”

“Timmy.”

“Fuck you guys.” Clyde tossed his controller to Craig preemptively.

“Wise decision.” Craig nodded in approval before taking the controller and expertly making his way through the track.

Tweek was fascinated with the way Craig had mastered the drifting maneuver. He was up to sixth place by the second lap. “How often do you play this??”

“Not that often.”

“Craig,” Token argued, “this was like the only thing we’d play when you came over, remember?”

“Then why isn’t Clyde any better at it?”

“Because you’d always knock me off the track you jerk!” Clyde screeched, getting up from his favorite chair to go by the popcorn machine instead. “When are the pizza rolls going to be ready, mom?”

“You’re welcome to go to the kitchen and find out.”

“But that’s so faaaar!” Clyde complained as he scooped up popcorn into a bowl. “Someone come with me.”

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“Tweek’s not playing!”

“What?” Tweek jolted when he was addressed, one of his eyes twitching at Clyde. He had been so absorbed with watching Craig race that he tuned out everything else.

“Come with me to check on the pizza rolls!”

“Oh!” Tweek started to slide out of his shared seat. “Sure, Clyde.” He was starting to feel hungry anyway. “What flavor?”

“Cheesy Taco!” Clyde grinned and wrapped his arm around Tweek’s shoulder as they walked. “The superior flavor, obviously.”

“I don’t know,” Craig argued, eyes still glued to the television. “I kinda like Macaroni and Cheese & Bacon.”

“Get outta here with your trash taste, Craig.”

“I like that flavor, too!” Tweek argued, nudging Clyde with his elbow as they walked.

Clyde grinned and nudged Tweek back. “You’re just saying that because he’s your boyfriend.”

“I am not!” Tweek huffed. “I have my own opinions!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Clyde snickered and nudged him again.

Tweek glared and “tazed” him - or, rather, poked his side with two fingers to make him flinch away and laugh. Most people were ticklish in that spot. He quickly blocked his own sides with his hands so Clyde couldn’t retaliate.

“No fair!” Clyde pouted and tried in vain to move Tweek’s hands off of his sides. “Let me poke you back!”

“This isn’t Facebook - don’t poke me.”

“You started it!” Clyde puffed his cheeks out. He looked like a squirrel pouting with his cheeks full of nuts.

Tweek started laughing and shook his head. “You look ridiculous, man.”

“Whatever.” Clyde sighed and ran ahead since they were close to the kitchen. “What?!” Tweek heard him whine as he turned the corner. “There’s still five minuuuuutes!” He slumped his head down on the top of the stove.

“Don’t do that!!” Tweek pulled him back with a nervous crack in his voice. “You could turn it on and burn your face!!”

“Oh, geez.” Clyde paled and took a step back, staring at the oven as if it would burst into flames right then. He put his hands over his cheeks, whispering dramatically, “My pretty face doesn’t deserve that.”

Tweek sighed in relief and let go of his shirt. “So, we’ll head back now?”

“In a second.” Clyde grinned and looked both ways, making sure no one was spying on them. He leaned in, putting his hand up to shield his mouth from non-present prying eyes. “Has Craig ever told you about when he first fell in love with you?”

“... What?” Tweek could feel heat pooling in his cheeks. His eye started twitching again in confusion and nervousness at the weird turn this pizza roll adventure had taken them. “What are you talking about?!”

“He hasn’t, right?” Clyde grinned and dropped his hand. He still whispered, though. “You wanna find out?”

Tweek took a step back. Clyde’s whispering voice made his ears feel like ants were crawling around them and biting the insides. “You’re being really weird!!”

“It’s a great story. Surprising, anyway.” Clyde chuckled and crossed his arms. “When we play Truth or Dare, I was gonna make that one of his truths; ask him “when did you realize you loved Tweek?””

“Why?” Tweek swallowed, his mouth dry as he looked away. His stomach started flipping around like a gymnast. “I’m sure C-Craig would tell me if he thought it was important.”

“Not if it’s embarrassing.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?!”

“You’ll find out,” Clyde grinned, “if you ask him the same question! He can only pass so many times, you know?”

“Clyde!” Tweek frowned and started tugging at his hair lightly. He quickly let go and switched to grabbing his fingers instead; Craig had been trying to get him to stop grabbing his hair ever since he accidentally made his skull bleed that one time. “I don’t - ngh - wanna ask Craig something that will make him embarrassed! Gah! I’ll just, just ask him in private later!! Why do you even care about this?!”

“Because he’ll probably never tell you!” Clyde pouted like a squirrel again. “I think the story’s cute but he thinks it’s lame. You’d think a sap like him would love it, too!!”

“Whatever, man.” Tweek turned and started heading back to the Entertainment Room. He didn’t like what Clyde was conspiring. If Craig didn’t want to tell him when he first “fell in love” then fine! Whatever! They both knew how each other felt now so who cares when it happened? Tweek supposed he was curious, but if Craig was embarrassed about it like Clyde was saying then he didn’t want to force him. Craig never forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do, he could at least return the favor. Especially when it involved a stupid game of Truth or Dare.

Clyde raced ahead of him so he could crash into his favorite recliner, leaving Tweek to walk much slower into the room. As soon as he crawled into his own shared seat, Craig whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Ah!” Tweek jumped. He should have expected the question; he knew he was twitching thanks to Clyde’s questions and instigating tone. “I’m f-fine!”

Craig creased his eyebrows together and turned to Clyde. “Hey, take your controller back.” He tossed it over to him, whacking him on the shoulder with it.

“Ow!”

“Sorry. Just play.” He wrapped an arm around Tweek’s shoulders and pulled him closer, letting his blonde head rest on his shoulder. “What happened?”

“N-nothing…” Tweek grasped for Craig’s hand while he chewed on his lip. “Clyde was just being really weird! He’s going to ask you some “embarrassing” question during Truth or Dare and wanted me in on it.”

“What question?” Craig looked confused. “I’m never embarrassed.”

“Nnngh…” Tweek squeezed Craig’s hand over and over, treating it like a stress ball. “He wanted both of us to ask about when… when you fell in love with me.”

“...”

“Craig?”

“That little shit.” Craig looked away, but Tweek could still see the blush on his cheeks.

Tweek felt his stomach churn unpleasantly. Why was this story so embarrassing for him? It was obvious they were in love, so why did he not want to talk about when it happened so vehemently? Tweek started to feel a nervous insecurity, his brain trying to say that Craig didn’t want to answer because he wasn’t in love with Tweek. But that wouldn’t make any sense because Clyde had said he thinks the story is cute. Not falling in love isn’t cute!

“Tweek?” Craig spoke up, turning his head back to look at him with a small frown. “If you wanna know, I’ll tell you. I just really don’t want to talk about it in front of everyone.”

“I get that!” Tweek insisted, squeezing Craig’s hand tighter. “You don’t have to tell me tonight. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that I’d be uncomfortable,” Craig insisted, his blush more pronounced as his eyes shifted away from Tweek’s. “It’s just… that would probably be the one thing that would make me embarrassed.”

Tweek felt a painful lump in his stomach. “Why?!”

“What do you mean, why?” Craig creased his eyebrows together. “Wouldn’t you be embarrassed to tell everyone about when you fell in love with me?”

“No!” Tweek shook his head rapidly, keeping his eyes closed when he was done. “You can’t help when you fall in love with someone!”

“When did you fall in love, Tweek?” Token asked curiously, turning to look back at the two as he paused the game.

“Yeah!” Jimmy grinned. “I’ve never h-heard this story!”

“Tim my ~”

As everyone turned to stare at Tweek with their big, judging eyes, he had to admit that this was a little nerve wracking, but he wouldn’t call it embarrassing. “W-well, I guess… ngh…” He scratched at his neck, eyes cast down to the floor as he thought of how to say this. “It was about after a month of fake dating - you know, after that whole yaoi thing with the break-up and make-up?”

Clyde started snickering until Craig gave him an especially scathing look.

“We were g-going for a walk by the park,” Tweek continued, looking between Clyde and Craig nervously. Why were they looking at each other like that?! “A leaf fell in my hair and I started f-freaking out because I thought it was a bomb or a mutant bug or something, and Craig… just pulled the leaf out and talked to me calmly, telling me everything was fine, and we continued our walk like nothing happened.” Tweek smiled softly and reached for Craig’s hand, glancing at his eyes. “And it just… hit me how much I really did like him. And it meant a lot to me that, that’s he’s so accommodating to me and my anxiety, but still treats me like a person.”

It was silent among them for a moment, Craig’s entire face more pink than it was before as he stared back into Tweek’s large eyes in disbelief.

“Wow,” Token broke the silence first. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Gross,” Jimmy spoke next, “but sweet.”

“Timmy!” He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes.

“Timmy’s right,” Clyde snorted. “You’re both so sappy you should open up a waffle house.”

“Shut up, Clyde.” Craig swallowed and looked away before he kissed Tweek in front of everyone. “I really liked that story, honey, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tweek ducked his head down, noticing that his heart rate had increased immensely. Guess he was more nervous than he thought talking about when he fell in love.

“Craig’s turn!” Clyde chirped gleefully. “Come on, you have to tell us now!”

Craig opened his mouth to no doubt argue with his best friend, but then the doorbell rang.

“Looks like the troublemakers are here,” Token commented, getting to his feet to go answer the door.

“Now the real party can b-begin,” Jimmy joked.

Tweet groaned and curled up even more against Craig. “Oh god, I don’t want to do this.”

“Look on the bright side,” Craig whispered as he rubbed Tweek’s back. “At least fatass isn’t included anymore.”

Tweek snorted, a small grin appearing on his face. “Yeah, I guess that’s something.” About three years ago, Cartman finally got shipped off to some military school to teach him discipline. He still hung out with Stan’s group for a bit in the summer, but during the school year Butters takes his place as their fourth friend.

“Hey, dudes.” Stan was the first one to walk into the entertainment room, carrying a large box wrapped in red with a green bow on it. “Where should I put this?”

“Daaamn!” Clyde whistled, coming over to help him with it. “What the hell did you get?! This is bigger than Token’s gift!”

“Trust me, it’s not that exciting.” Stan sighed. “You can blame my dad.”

As the two of them carried their gift to the back of the room, Tweek realized that he hadn’t grabbed his own present out of his duffel bag. “Ack! We should put ours over there, too, Craig!”

“Oh, right.” They both started rummaging in their duffel bags for the gifts they had brought for the exchange. The used Christmas bags instead of wrapping paper, because neither of them were that good at wrapping presents.

Tweek looked up when he heard Clyde snort. “Wow, Kyle - nice wrapping paper.”

“Shut up.” Tweek turned to the redhead, seeing him glaring at Clyde as he held a long, rectangular box in his hand, wrapped in blue paper decorated with gold menorahs all over it. “You do this every year, God - I don’t have Christmas wrapping paper! Get over it!”

“Yeah, but it makes it so obvious to remember which present is yours which basically ruins the point of a White Elephant!” Clyde whined.

“Craig’s the only one who bags his present and you don’t complain about that!” Kyle snapped right back.

“That’s not true this year!” Clyde grinned, bounding over to wrap Tweek up in a tight hug. “Tweek brought a bagged gift this year!”

“Oh.” Kyle blinked, his glare melting into surprise. “Right. I… forgot you were coming.”

“Y-yeah, well,” Tweek smiled weakly and waved, his eyes travelling to the room entrance as two familiar blondes walked in. “I’m here.”

“Coffee bean!” Kenny greeted, voice muffled as always, but now by a brown bandana rather than his parka. “You made it!”

“It’s great to see you, Tweek!” Butters chirped, smiling adorably as always. It was no wonder he won the ‘cutest blonde’ award in sixth grade, even if Craig insisted that should have gone to Tweek. “You’re gonna have a great time, I promise!”

“I hope so!” Tweek’s voice cracked, so he quickly rushed to carry his bagged gift off to the back of the room with the others, Craig following close behind.

“You should pick my gift,” Kenny said, holding up a white box that had Christmas-type symbols crudely drawn all around it in red marker. “I think you’ll like it.” He winked, which cemented in Tweek’s mind to not pick that gift.

“You’d like mine, too!” Butters held up another white box with red, Christmas symbols all around it, though his drawings were more bubbly and cute compared to Kenny’s shaky, blocky style.

“Aw, they’re matching again,” Clyde cooed, clasping his hands together. “When’s the wedding?”

The question made Tweek jump a little, but Kenny seemed unbothered as he countered: “You still haven’t proposed, Cookie,” before brushing past him to drop his gift off with the others.

Butters following behind him with a roll of his eyes. “Come on, Clyde - Kenny and I are just good friends!”

Clyde blew a raspberry and waved his hand down in disbelief. “Yeah, okay.”

“Timmy.” He seemed to agree as he copied Clyde’s hand motion and rolled his eyes.

Idle chatter continued, but Tweek tuned most of it out and stared at Craig with wide eyes. It didn’t take long for Craig to pull him a little away from everyone and ask, “What’s on your mind, honey?”

“Kenny and Butters??” Tweek hissed, glancing over at the two who did seem to be standing a little closer to each other than usual. “Are th-they -?”

“Clyde highly suspects,” Craig interrupted with a simple shrug. “But, then again, he basically ships everyone in this school with somebody, so that’s not that surprising.”

“Didn’t Butters just break up with that girl from France?!”

“That was three months ago, babe.”

“Already!?” Tweek deflated a little, looking down at the ground. Where did the time go? It definitely hadn’t felt like three months since the time Butters cried through an entire school week.

“Yeah.” Craig reached over to rub Tweek’s hair, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay. Time moves weird here, I swear. But he’s super over her now, which is just fueling Clyde’s belief that he and Kenny are secretly dating.”

“No way…” Tweek felt hope rising in his chest. “So there might be another gay couple in the eighth grade?” That would take so much pressure off of them! God, it was always annoying and creepy to have adults take random pictures of them whenever they were on dates!! But if there was another gay couple in middle school, it would be more normalized and maybe they could just live their fucking lives! And, more immediately, maybe they wouldn’t be asked so many embarrassing questions during Truth or Dare if the attention was off of them! This was amazing!

Craig thought for a moment, shrugging and staring into his eyes as he admitted, “There might be two gay couples, babe. They’re just in the closet.”

“Are you SERIOUS??” Tweek yelled once more in shock and joy - though mostly shock.

This time Clyde bounded over to check on them, placing each of his hands on one of their shoulders. “Heeeyyy, what’s the happy couple doing over here?” he glanced between them in concern.

“Nothing!” Tweek smiled at Clyde to show everything was fine. “I’m just excited to be here!!”

Clyde blinked at him owlishly, and Token even walked over in surprise. “You’re excited now?” the rich kid asked.

“We thought you hh-hated being here,” Jimmy added, moving back towards the couch to sit down.

“Yeah, dude,” Stan nodded, hands in his pockets. “Why else would you have ditched us the last two years?”

“I was sick!!” Tweek squeaked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, because we all believe that.” Kenny chuckled, his bandana hanging loosely around his neck as he stuffed his mouth with pizza pockets. Oh, they must have finished cooking while Tweek and Craig were talking.

“Don’t eat them all!” Clyde ran over to grab five from the plate Kenny was holding.

“Clyde, relax,” Token told him. “We have more cooking as we speak.”

“Yeah, dude.” Kenny held his plate over his head. “This is the most food I’m going to have all month.”

Tweek noticed Butters’ smile drop into a sad frown at that, but he just turned away and didn’t say anything. Why would he looked like that unless they really were closer than just friends? Wait, what was he saying - it was normal to care about your friends a lot, that didn’t automatically mean anything! Ugh, great, Tweek was going to be hyper aware of both of them and overanalyzing all of their interactions all night, wasn’t he? He sighed and tugged Craig back over to the reclining chair, starting to feel drained already. This was going to be a long sleepover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#south park #sp creek #sp bunny #sp style #sp fanfiction #south park fanfiction #ToD:COE #annzy writes

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