#pls just take this before i explode | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arlertwhore · 4 months

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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re jealous and paige blows your back out to remind you she loves you.

warning (s): literally the nastiest thing I’ve wrote — smut, strap, pussy eating, finger sucking, choking, squirting, cervix play, dacryphilia, public stuff a little, nipple sucking, degrading, spitting, humping, drunk sex, Paige literally destroys you.

word count: 3k.

author note: been havin some terrible writers block so might be last post for a lil while — unedited, this sex is just so raw nd nasty I’m sorry bro I cannot pls read at own risk

You found yourself at the draft afterparty, separated from Paige, your girlfriend, but you hardly noticed as you knocked back drinks one after another. Time slipped away as you chatted with your two closest friends, Mrs. Griffin and Mrs. Arnold, jokingly referring to yourselves as future NBA wives, with you as Mrs. Bueckers in jest.

As the drinks flowed, tensions rose. You were on your fourth shot in fifteen minutes when Aubrey's girlfriend remarked, "You know, I understand why you're so possessive, girl. If I were dating Paige, I'd be on edge too. She's quite the ladies-man." In your interpretation, her comment suggested that if she were in your shoes dating Paige, she wouldn't let Paige out of her sight. You had full trust in your girlfriend, without a doubt, but it was other girls you didn't trust. Knowing Paige's attractiveness and the constant flirtation she encountered throughout her life, you understood she might not always notice when a bitch wanted to fuck, leaving an opportunity for other girls to take advantage of the situation. Spurred on by the alcohol, you staggered to your feet and clumsily balanced on the chair you had just vacated. "Where is she?" you slurred.

"Over there," Aubrey's girlfriend pointed.

You spun back around, irritation evident on your face. "Oh, hell no," you spat, contemplating. "Should I go? Imma go!"

"Don't do it, girl!" your friends called out, but it was too late. Determined, you marched over to Paige, who was seated on the couch beside another girl, chatting and laughing, the girl's hand casually resting on her shoulder as she spoke.

There was absolutely no reason for her hand to be on your girlfriend. You were gonna crash-out.

"Paigeyyy!" you exclaimed, drawing most eyes in the party to you. "What... are you... doingg, babe?"

Paige smiled at you and exchanged words with the girl beside her, pointing in your direction. However, as you approached, her smile faltered, turning forced. You hovered over your girlfriend's form, pouting down at her. "Fix your face," she murmured softly as her hands found yours, holding them tightly. Your eyes darted towards the company Paige was keeping, silently hoping that after her subtle request to fix your expression went unheeded, she'd catch the hint as you focused on the source of your discomfort. "O-uhh, babe, this is Holly. She's my high school coach's daughter," Paige explained.

You smirked, subtly digging at her. "You're breaking a cardinal rule, Paige. Didn't they say the coach's daughter was off-limits?"

Holly's response hit a nerve, even more so if you were sober. "Well, that was back in the day," she said, still grinning politely.

You smiled, amplifying yours to mimic hers as you sat down. Not in-between them, however. You swiftly settled into Paige's lap, feeling her hands involuntarily wrapping around your waist, since she was still holding your hands before you sat. "So it's changed now, Holly? You're one for bending the rules?" you pressed. "When a boundary isn't visible, breaking it becomes effortless," she smoothly retorted, a subtle dig that undoubtedly rankled you, adding fuel to the fire of your annoyance. "Well, Holly, I'm right fucking here," you asserted firmly, the intensity of your words conveying both defiance and a challenge to her audacious remark. "Safe you made it in time. It was like I had a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode," Holly remarked, subtly implying that any further delay might have jeopardized your relationship.

Before you could speak, Paige intervened, diffusing the tension as she spoke up, "So, guys. Who can forget that buzzer-beater from last year's championship?" As Holly began to yap, you couldn't help but stir in Paige's lap. Your girlfriend always looked majestic, but especially now, under the spell of alcohol. You rocked your hips forward, feeling the stirrings of arousal. You were now horny. And while tipsy and horny, if there was one thing you didn't care to respect was the conversation. So, while Paige was mid-sentence, you turned and began to make out with her, your desire overriding any concern for the topic at hand. Paige kissed back at first, but with your chest pressed against her, she couldn't resist allowing a hand to brush against it, stroking your hardened nipples in the process. When she noticed your arousal, she pulled away slightly and whispered sensually, "We'll continue this later," before unashamedly turning back to Holly, seamlessly returning to the conversation.

Later? You were a wreck. If somebody who wasn't already in the loop with all the others had been at the party, they'd surely be filming this, and you'd be looking insane. Your drunken antics drew a bemused smile from Paige as you pressed your lips to her jaw while she tried to speak, your warm breath giving her chills. She gently tried to steer your body away, to steady your hips, but you had other plans.

It was as if you had forgotten you weren't in the privacy of your own home as your hand moved to your own chest, intending to let your tits spill from your top before Paige stopped you, concealing your intent with a quick, "Wardrobe malfunction?"

At her words, you remembered she had lips, and kissed them before whispering, "Want them off," into her ear, "Want your mouth on them." Her mouth watered as her fingers helped you fix said wardrobe malfunction, giving her an excuse to marvel at your hardened nipples through your dress, begging to be sucked. With a playful glint in her eye, Paige allowed herself to be swept away by the moment, ghosting her hands over them and eliciting a hushed whine from your lips. Reveling in the sensation of your bodies pressing together, the allure of the party gradually faded. Soon, she found herself leading you home, your fingers intertwined as you stumbled through the door, eager to continue the intimacy in the privacy of your own space. Once inside, the air crackled with electricity as Paige pulled you close, her lips finding yours in a heated kiss. Your hands roamed eagerly over each other's bodies, seeking out every inch of exposed skin with fervent desire. "You know, I'm starting to hate Holly," you muttered against Paige's lips, jealousy prominent in your tone.

Paige leaned in, pleased, as she whispered, "Well, jealousy looks sexy on you, babe." Clothes were discarded in a frenzy of lust, and Paige found herself above you on the bed with her lips trailing a path of wet kisses down your neck and chest. With tender care, she teased your hardened nipples, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

Her hand trailed lower, down the curve of your stomach, before finally finding its destination between your thighs. With gentle strokes, she teased your clit, reveling in the slick wetness that greeted her touch. She brought her fingers to her lips, sucking them clean with a sinful groan before plunging them back into your eager cunt.

Deftly, Paige slipped a finger inside you, marveling at the way you clenched around her in response. But she wasn't content to simply watch from the sidelines. Leaning down, she captured your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue dancing with yours as she devoured you whole.

With hunger in her actions, touch, and eyes, she descended lower, trailing kisses along your thighs before finally finding her destination. With a flick of her tongue, she tasted your essence, savoring the sweet nectar that flowed from your core. With each stroke of her tongue, she brought you closer to the edge, her fingers working in perfect harmony to push you over. "More?" she asked, her voice breathy and gravelly, and you nodded eagerly from above her. "Please," you whispered, breaths catching in your throat. She smirked up at you. "Fuck, you're a slut." she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her mouth flush against your pussy, closer, for a more precise to-the-clit angle. When you nod, "I am, mommy," you watch hazily as she indulges in you, her tongue tracing a slow, tantalizing path from your clit down to your folds repetitively. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Your body trembling with pleasure, Paige knew that she had finally proven herself to you. She was the only one who could satisfy your deepest desires. She wanted to be the only one. For her to eat you like this, so unapologetically, it'd stole all those seeds of doubt from your mind that Holly had planted. "Wanna eat this pussy every day," she speaks tightly against your pussy, so deep in your folds, and your eyebrows furrow at the slight pinch of her teeth against your clit. But she swiftly distracts you by recycling the saliva and wetness on her lips, spitting onto you, further soaking your already dripping cunt. The feeling of being soaked, then getting lapped up like a dog drinking water, was making your head spin. You grabbed your tits, squeezing them like your own personal stress balls, and the sight caused Paige to moan. "Play with them like that, ma, fuck." she groaned, her fingers pumping into you ridiculously nice, the perfect tempo to match her tongue work.

Your toes curled. "M' gonna—"

She nodded like, "I know," and watched as your body writhed, surrendering to the pleasure.

"Fuck, Paige, please don't stop. You're amazing, oh shit," you moaned.

She didn't. Not for a second did she quit eating you like her life depended on it, and you cried out in pleasure until the moment you released all over her face and fingers, painting her in your cum. Your stomach contracted as she kept fucking her fingers inside you, pushing it all out. Not even a second later, she had turned you over on your stomach and whispered in your ear, "Looks like I need to show you your place again, don't I?" It might have been the alcohol in your system, but you swore you had never been this horny for anything or anybody before. There you were, sprawled out on Paige's bed, your legs spread apart with her in between them, to your utter dismay, the blonde doing absolutely nothing. You felt like you were about to burst as you nodded your head vigorously, turning back over to give her your puppy eyes. "Want it, baby," you whispered urgently.

She pressed herself flush into your body, her tongue eagerly exploring your wet lips, probing its way into your mouth as you whimpered desperately. Allowing you to speak, her tongue trailed up your neck, to your breasts, and as she sucked your tits gently, you whined. "Wanted this all night." "Please..." you pleaded, voice thick with need, "Please, Paige, don't make me wait any longer," begging for what you knew was merely inches away from your pussy, tucked away. Her finger, previously servicing you, found its way into your mouth, and she pushed the long digit into the warmth repeatedly, teasingly fucking your throat as you eagerly sucked and moaned around it, savoring the taste of your own arousal. It was so hard not to give in when you looked this way—just so fucked out and slutty, when nothing had even really happened yet. Breaking face, she pressed her lips against yours, and your tongues danced together in a manner that made you think Paige was genuinely trying to receive and keep your taste, eat you alive. By each passing moment, your bodies found themselves closer than before, deepening the connection between you involuntarily.

It was half-intimate and half-raw, and it felt all the way good. Way too good. When you finally felt the thick, hard piece of plastic against your pussy, you sighed into the kiss, tilting your head back as Paige began to grind it against you. Her hand, previously holding your thigh and pressing you into the mattress, trailed down your body with deliberate intent, settling at your hip. You tried to squirm away from the feeling below you both, but she effortlessly held you there, a showcase of her immense strength that only turned you on even harder. She continued to rut her hips against you relentlessly, dragging the member up and down repeatedly with slow, sharp thrusts of her talented hips. She groaned, the dildo on the other end vibrating, squeezing and fucking sequencly against her wet, warm, tight walls. "Feel that?" she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" It was all euphoria—you were too spent to reply, but you managed to murmur, "Inside," Paige held the base of it with her hand, groaning your name as she watched your pussy slowly swallow it all in with her piercing blue eyes. "Look how that just stretched you out, ma, feel it," she moaned, pumping into you so hard your entire body rocked, and causing the dildo to slide past her G-spot precisely, coaxing a throaty breath from her.

All you wanted was to please her. It meant good for you in the end. She was in awe watching your incredibly tight cunt be stretched that wide, so you complied, reaching your hand down and feeling it with shaky hands. "Fuck," you gasped, "So big, baby, god." She smirked down at you. "Play with your clit, baby, let me watch you." and like a puppet, your hand falls to between your legs, rubbing yourself hastily. You're still sensitive from your last orgasm, but you keep going, the deepness of Paige's cock feeling like a punch and stab to your guts each time she plows down. But the pressure inside you and the one you delicately place upon your clit feel so, so good that despite the overcapacity, you find your other hand coming to her back, then to her ass, squeezing it as you plead, "Don't stop!" You're crying now, tears staining your cheeks, and all it takes is for Paige to really look at your face, seeing how hard you're working for her right now before the tension begins to mount. She tries to hold out, but everywhere she tries to look makes it worse. Her head dips low to avoid your face, and you're sluttily playing with your clit. At your mid-section, your tits are bouncing in her face. And she knows if she looks at you one more time, it's over. Her body falters, and she lays on you as she fucks into you so carefree of anything in the world. You cry out whinily as you feel her deeper, the tip placing kisses to your cervix, and her weight on your lower stomach pressing the bulge the strap makes DEEP.

"So good," you whimpered, clenching around her with each drag of her stroke against the depths of your body. "Take me, Paige, take all of me."

She loses it at that, growling out, "Open your mouth, sexy," and you stick your tongue out to meet a hot, thick glob of spit into it.

Without needing to be told, you swallow, knowing it's what she wants. Her impending orgasm is evident as she speaks, her voice filled with urgency. "Fuck, bae, I'm gonna cum. You gonna—" she waivers with a grunt, then continues, "you gonna let me cum in you?"

Your arousal allows her to penetrate you insanely deep, even though she shouldn't be able to on a regular, non-drunk sex having day. "Yeah," you moan, your body ablaze with desire, "fill me up."

The room falls silent, save for the embarrassing squelching sounds of your cunt. The sounds your pussy makes are just embarrassing. Like pure water being swished, and you grip her dick so tightly it burns momentarily when her stroke falters back, but it meets your guts again within no time, and all feels way too good again. Your pussy's grip on her tightens, your body craving every thrust she delivers. Paige's hand tightens around your neck, restricting your airflow as she fucks the life out of you. She is genuinely killing you. Stabs inside your cunt, hand around your neck, toned body weighing down on you — petite below her. She's relentless, her motions driving the familiar knot in your stomach to form, but this time, with a little something different about it that you just can't place your finger on. You want to be concerned on why your pre-orgasm phase feels this way, but with each thrust, you can't help but surrender further into the pleasure, neverminding it.

As your climax approaches, you're overwhelmed. Your eyes shut tightly, your world consumed by white light. When you feel it coming, you want to scream, but you can't. Before you know it, your body is involuntarily pushing, and pushing, and when the intensity stops, blending into an orgasm, you realize you've just squirted all over Paige.

She's realized long before you, apparently, because she's left cumming herself with moans and exclamations of, "Aw, fuck, baby, look at that."

You guys have no time to tell each other you're cumming; it's just wet, hot, and heavy, both of your releases coating the sheets and the both of you too. Paige collapses on you, and now you really can't breathe, so you have to use your remaining energy the squirt took to push her off, the strap exiting you with the most empty feeling ever. Your hand, still on your clit, feels all the cum, and you exhale sharply, shocked. Both of your bodies are drenched, covered in sweat.

And as you catch your breath, Paige rolls onto her side, looking at you with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness in her eyes. "Is that attitude gone?" she asks, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

You meet her gaze, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If I say no, will you fuck me like that again?" you retort, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

Paige chuckles, reaching out to pull you close to her. "Guess you'll just have to find out," she replies, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss.

When you guys draw back, you're panting as you confess, "I can't believe I just... squirted."

Paige raises an eyebrow, offended. "I can. You doubtin' me?"

You've essentially been fucked back into sobriety and know not to test her. "Absolutely not," you assure her, and she relaxes at that. "You're gonna be hella sore tomorrow morning," she teases, "I literally went swimming in that pussy, deadass."

You smack her gently. "Stoppp," you protest.

She grins. "Ion feel bad tho. Maybe next time you get an attitude, you'll think about how dumb I just fucked you." And Paige Bueckers is absolutely fucking right. You will. Attitude or not.

MASTERLIST

A/N: might be some errors in posting and stuff!! i'll correct it later i'm rly tired now lol.

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ddarker-dreams · 4 months

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I'm clutching on the bars rn pls give us more bf blade content before I explode

I GOTCHU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm joining you in rattling the bars of my enclosure .... bf blade is making me feel Things ... .

warnings: fem reader, not sfw implications

While changing into a new shirt, a deep voice drawls your name.

Your heart jumps in your chest. If it weren’t for the recognizable timbre, you may have shrieked. It’s a small blessing that you’ve been spared this indignation. Huffing, you turn on your heels, pulling down the bunched-up fabric to cover yourself.

“I thought you promised to stop jumpscaring me,” you chastise.

The jumpscare in question — Blade — fixates on your previously exposed midriff. You note how his eyebrows pinch together, though you’re unsure what to make of it. He doesn’t acknowledge your comment. Not even with what Silver Wolf’s decreed his ‘limited NPC dialogue’ (a grunt, hum, nose exhale, or the occasional chuckle, solely procured by your antics).

“Lift your shirt,” Blade requests.

“Eh?” You stare at him like he has three heads. “Sorry, I’m waiting until marriage for that.”

He gives you an unimpressed look.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” you grumble, acquiescing to the strange demand, “And they said romance is dead…”

Blade kneels onto one knee. Before you can reiterate the marriage comment was a joke, his gloved fingers hover over the sides of your hips. The leather is cool against your rapidly warming skin. Once you overcome your initial confusion, you consider his countenance. He’s frowning, his eyes playing host to emotions you can’t quite place. His thumb rubs circles into the skin, softly enough to be mistaken for a ghost’s kiss. He appears to be in deep thought.

You’re rendered speechless — a most commendable feat.

“These bruises,” Blade murmurs, his voice hollow and haunted, “Did I…?”

Realization crashes into you like a meteorite.

You yank the fabric down. “Well, uh, yes, but—”

(He goes pale as a sheet, further increasing the urgency behind your words).

“—It’s okay! You didn’t— it wasn’t— I didn’t mind,” you reassure. Clearing your throat, you continue, fighting against the embarrassment scorching you alive. “If anything, I… was into it, so…”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. His arms fall limp to his side as he mulls over what you’ve said, clearly unwilling to accept it at face value. Uncertain of what else to do, you join him on the ground, sitting on your shins. You take his face in your hands, brushing aside his bangs that’d obscured his eyes. His hair’s silky smooth, thanks to your products and insistence on combing through the knots.

“Hey, old man,” you hum. “All that frowning’s gonna make you look your prehistoric age. You don’t want some young, dashing whippersnapper to steal me away, do ya?”

Blade scowls. Smiling softly, you boop him on the nose, to which he scrunches it up.

Your voice takes on a more serious cadence. “You didn’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you, so… trust me on this, okay? Just this once?”

It’s gradual. He relaxes his shoulders, then the taut muscles of his face, basking in your closeness. He leans into your touch, reminding you of a stray cat that’s steadily being domesticated. You let the silence linger for as long as he sees fit. Eventually, his gaze meets yours.

“... It’s a dangerous game you play, girl.”

I’m dangerous, the insatiable hunger in his eyes screams. I long to devour you, mind and soul.

To this, you grin.

“It’s a good thing I’ve already won, then.”

#blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #bf blade #blade brainrot #my stuff

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strawberrygyuuuu · 4 months

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𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 —> 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄 / 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓

Genre —> Fluff

—> how they'd react to their s/o holding the hem of their sleeve / shirt.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

YEONJUN

• will actually explode

• who said you could be this fucking cute? Huh?

• I actually believe this man does the day you start doing this and continues to die every single time

• his heart just melts for you okay?

• I think he tries to contain his feelings but you're just so cute he can't help but to show it

• like he'll literally look at you in that fond lovesick way with a dumb little smile on his face

• maybe a little blushy as well

• because to him it's like you feel safe with him so you're holding onto him so you don't get lost in especially big crowds

• hold onto him for as long as you want, he thrives for it...it's a bit of an ego boost as well lol

SOOBIN

• he'll think sum is wrong at first

• he'll look at you and scan your face to see if there's any distress or discomfort or anything

• but once he sees you're okay and just hanging onto him Soobin will smile his cute lil dimple smile

• little sparkles in his eyes because you're adorable wtf dude !!!!

• "you're okay?"

• you just smile and nod at him, "mhm!"

• I think he adores your habit because it's you and he adores you

• sometimes I think he'll gently take your hand and replace it with his so yours are intertwined with his

• idk man he might die from heart attack tho cause how cute you are

• so be careful pooks ‼️

BEOMGYU

• when he's in a playful mood he'll make a big deal out of it

• "hmmm??? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

• "you love me THAT much? Woah!"

• he giggles but he is slightly worried

• but when he's not, it's either he doesn't say anything and just has this smug look on his face

• or he'll look at you to make sure you're alright and pull you closer to him but that's more in way too crowded areas

• idk it's like a dice roll lol

• you might get a smug reaction, a concern reaction or he'll tease you

• but he does care I swear

• it also makes him feel proud because like...you feel safe with him and he can protect you

• he's so in love with you girlie

TAEHYUN

• once y'all are more comfortable in the relationship he'll learn to enjoy it

• he has boundaries and although he does love you vv much those are still in place

• but when you did it it was more out of instinct

• tae def looks at you, then your hand, back at you before smiling fondly

• just a small smile

• "everything good, Hun?" GHFF PLS I NEED HIM🙏🏻

• when you confirm you're alright, he figured you were js anxious or to not lose him or sum

• lets you be, but will tease you sometimes

• only because he thinks it's endearing

• he trusts you when you tell him that you're fine so he doesn't push or anything

• fosho wants you to do it more often, if you ask if it annoys him he'll simply shake his head and tell you it doesn't, because it really doesn't

• probably encourages you to keep doing it tbh

• idk pooks

• you're endearing to him

HUENINGKAI

• is soo blushy and shy it's cute

• you're cute

• like omfg???

• he adores you sm n I genuinely think he'd love when you do this little habit of yours

• he snickers and smiles so wide

• boy is ear to ear smiling he's so happy n in love 😭🙏🏻

• probably tried to be normal about it and not make too big of a deal about it but you can tell he's over the moon

• because again, it's like,, you trust him ??

• ARUGH he can't take it pooks

• when y'all get back to the dorms or your apartment or sum he'll be squishing your cheeks

• rubbing his cheek against yours squealing about how cutie you are

• full on fanboy

• but I can also see him silently being happy about it

• and maybe probably possibly tease you later on just to poke fun

• but nothing serious; please keep doing this !

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cinnaminsvga · 6 months

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Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits.

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country.

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend.

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly.

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank).

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored.

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that.

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was.

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment.

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage.

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction.

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!”

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?”

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks.

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding.

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone.

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still.

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him.

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident.

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way.

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture.

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you.

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you.

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”?

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot.

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly.

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute.

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night.

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?”

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically.

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying.

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason.

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching.

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding.

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly.

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you.

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text.

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time.

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy.

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense.

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him.

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement.

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him.

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same.

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray.

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him.

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream.

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name?

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers.

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform.

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?”

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful.

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything.

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight.

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom.

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through.

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do?

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought.

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift.

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance.

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage.

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology.

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years.

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug.

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache.

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor.

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well.

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers.

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten.

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him.

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him.

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick.

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer.

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you.

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears.

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant.

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder.

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back.

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky.

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought.

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster.

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one.

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook.

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind.

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you.

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs.

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again.

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out.

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you.

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent.

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix.

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it.

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow.

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles.

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter.

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope.

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that.

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears.

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer.

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too.

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers.

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare.

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind.

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class.

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel.

But you do know, the universe responds.

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond?

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing.

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation.

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat.

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance?

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air.

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you.

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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anadiasmount · 5 months

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giiiirlll you gotta write some smut blurb for me after this game !!!! the way jude was sooo aggressive and full of energy 🤭🤭 you have too!!

oh my!! here’s a mini blurb ig!! 🤭🤭 mind the spelling errors pls 😔

“don’t look at the window… look at me love… look at how good and so fucking tight you’re taking me y/n,” jude hissed, his hand sneaking up your sides as your eyes fluttered and pleasure. feeling so full. with courage and strength you managed to look him, jude’s eyes dark and lustful with one thing in mind.

he was still on his winning high, adrenaline still rushed in his veins and energetic. he couldn’t stop it, didn’t know how. especially when he saw you wearing his flimsy jersey and just panties underneath. he craved, needed you to his will just for tonight.

he started on the couch, denying your orgasm with his tongue and finger deep in your cunt. then once again on top your desk where he pushed away papers and pens as he took you from behind. it was so dirty yet so hot it made you dizzy. the way he used and manhandled you. yet also being soft to make sure you were okay and wanted this, just as much as he did.

you loved this side of jude, that appeared on games like this where everything could go wrong for him. you loved that he came to you first. with a needy and almost begging voice. how could you not let him? he was wrapped around your finger, and you’d do anything to give him what he wanted.

he kissed you messily, his tongue tracing his name on yours, gliding it along your pulse point and sucking before hitting the area. you bucked your hips down, the pleasure getting so heavy and cloudy the only thing you could focus on was how deep he was. hitting the angle that made your legs shake and whimper his name. clugging on his shoulders afraid to let go.

“jude please… i can’t… you’re so… mhm… so deep,” you cried out, walls clenching around his hard cock that slowly thrusted in and then out, so wet and so easily. “what do you want y/n?” he gripped your jaw gently, forcing you to look at his pretty and fucked out face. “i need you to tell me baby… or else it will be a longer night.”

“to cum… jude please… i need too. i given you all you asked jude… this isn’t what a goal scorer does…” you said struggling, a trembling chin as you kissed his face, your feet bringing him closer to you. “you’re right he doesn’t do this… and you’ve been such a good fucking gurl for me… listening and waited so patiently…” jude moaned, digging his head in the crook of your neck.

you feared that if he stopped you would cry out, your neighbors being able to hear you. the feeling was indescribable, so passionate, so intimate, you didn’t want him to stop. you but your lip, the bubble in your tummy exploding any second if he continued the pace he was at. “please jude, please-”

“yes holy shit… yes y/n you can cum, cum all over my cock, show me how good i’m giving it to you… how it feels,” jude said, kissing you deep hiding the loud moan that would escape your lips as you were driven to the breaking point. jude groaned feeling as you scratched his back, your legs trembling around him, saying his name like a devoted prayer.

so sweet. jude’s cock twitched inside you, being able to feel the white ropes of cum as he controlled his breathing as well, shaky breaths escaping his swollen and plump lips.

it wasn’t just one time. this was the beginning of something that would last until the morning if it was allowed. no matter how many times it happened, you loved this type of sex with him. so meaningful and so longing.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham smut

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logansargeantsbabymom · 4 months

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GIRL YOUR NEW LEWIS STORY????? HELLO??? WHY ITS SO GOOD???PLS CONTINUE????

ask and you shall receive. ENJOYYYYYYY🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🎀🎀🎀🎀

ladies and gentlemen I present to you,

Pillowtalk

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

part 1 I

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Overstimulation, Light Slapping, Squirting,

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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Once both Lewis and I found out that I was capable of squirting he’s been doing anything he can to get me to do it again.

He’s fucked me in so many positions trying to get me to squirt again. Missionary, Doggy, Cowgirl, Reserve Cowgirl, The Pretzel, I mean we’ve done it all and each orgasm wasn’t the one Lewis was hoping for.

“Lew, Puh-Please, I can’t take this anymore. I’m so sore” I whimpered against his lips, my thighs shaking with such force I looked like I was trying to win a twerk off.

“We’re not done until I pull another squirting orgasm from you darling” the look in Lewis’ eyes told me that he in fact was not lying and that he would actually stay here all night until he was able to pull another out of me.

We’d been in the Hot Seat position for the last almost 10 minutes and Lewis was hoping that this new position would be a game changer in terms of making me squirt again. The one hand that Lewis had resting flat against my stomach traveled down to my clit, rubbing harsh and fast circles around the already swollen and already overstimulated bud.

I honestly lost count of how many orgasms I’ve had today from the last 2 positions alone, imagine how many more Lewis is gonna pull out of me as he continues to to find what made me explode.

“You gonna tell me how I got you to squirt or are you really gonna make me fuck you every single way until I get that reaction again?”

I dont know how I did it, really, it just kinda happened. It couldn’t have been the overstimulation, I’ve been overstimulated I don’t know how many times in the last 45 minutes. Was it the handcuffs? Maybe, that had been the first time I’ve been handcuffed. Or was it the fact that I was helpless while Lewis provided himself his own pleasure?

“Mmm d’know”

“Or was it when I had you cuffed up and helpless?” a moan escapes past my lips “Do you want to try that again? Hmm, wanna get locked up again?” a breathless ‘yes’ escapes past my lips.

With that, Lewis recuffs my wrists to the handcuffs that he left hanging from the bed posts. A look of adoration and lust filled Lewis’ eyes as he stared at me. I was helpless, naked and aching for him. I watched as Lewis’ eyes raked my whole body before ultimately landing on my core and he watched as my pussy leaked for him in anticipation.

“I can see your pussy dripping for me. This must be what made you tick, you like being helpless” My pussy clenched around nothing. Something about his words did something to me. “I’m gonna eat you out again, okay princess” Lewis stared in my eyes, not moving a muscle until he got a response and my subtle nod was enough clarification for him.

Without warning Lewis licked a stripe up my slit, circling my clit before sliding down and into my whole. Lewis repeats this motion a few times before he places a soft kiss on my bud and stops. My hands instinctively go to push his head back down given that I was close to my 12th orgasm tonight, god knows how many more I can take before I actually die from pleasure.

“Don’t want me to stop, do you?” A muffled ‘no’ escapes my lips, the muffled noises I made quickly turned into a mess of moans as I feel 2 fingers insert me.

Lewis’ fingers are long and girthy enough to hurt for a second as they were thrusted into me. Lewis sets a decent pace as he leans up to kiss my lips

“Please, never stop. feels s’good” the second those words left my mouth Lewis did in fact stop. A whimper left my lips at the sudden loss of contact but Lewis quickly caught me up to speed on what was going on in his head.

“S’okay darling, I’m just grabbing some more stuff for us to have fun with.” I watched intently as he walked right back to the bed side table, opening the drawer pulling out a blindfold, vibrator and a cock ring. Walking back over to the bed Lewis quickly pulled the blindfold over my eyes, placing the cock ring on himself after setting it to a medium fast pace and placing the bigger vibrator on the highest setting, slowly placing light touches of my body with it as it send small electrical bolts all throughout my body.

Lewis first started off by placing the big vibrator against the skin under my collarbone and he watched as my body tensed at the feeling. He let it rest there for a second before slowly bringing it down to the valley between my breasts, slowly gliding it over one of my nipples while his mouth attached to the other, tongue circling around the bud of my nipple.

Having one of my senses taken from me meant that my others heightened. Lewis' touch sent me into a frenzy before losing my vision. Now? My god, I was gonna explode at any second due to the vibrating against my breasts. A pathetic string of moans and whimpers leave my lips as Lewis keeps sucking on my nipples, the hand that was previously circling the drags the vibrator down to my aching clit. The vibrations bringing me close to the orgasm Lewis left me hanging with and the way my body jolted, he knew I was close which prompted him to attack my pussy with his mouth.

Everything was too much for poor old oversensitive me. Too much pleasure, too much pain, my nerves were going into overdrive “Lewis, please. I’m gonna c-cum, fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkk” my body shook with my 13th orgasm. This time, it was the squirting orgasm Lewis was begging for. When I started squirting, something snapped inside Lewis and he opened his mouth that was already by my pussy. He collected my pussy juices before spitting out some and swallowing the rest.

“Fuck, Darling. You taste s’good. I love every bit of you, mmmm.” Lewis murmured as he continues to work me through this high. His lips attack my pussy again as he murmurs more things about how good I taste and how he could never get enough of me. My body shook as my legs encase his head between them.

Lewis’ mouth attacking my pussy was brief because after a few laps of his tongue on my already sensitive clit, he grabs my thighs that were trapping him and forced them open before aggressively thrusting his rock hard and aching cock in me.

My hands instinctively reach for the blindfold so I can see him as he relentlessly fucks my pussy at such a pace I was sure the whole neighborhood knew we were fucking. The bed moves inch by inch with each thrust and squeak of the bed.

At this point I had tears streaming down my face, I was losing my voice by how much I was screaming out his name and moaning in pleasure, my body was littered with so many hickeys it looked like I was found in a huge pile of snow and had major frostbite.

I can tell Lewis is getting close to his orgasm by the way his hips faltered and the grip he had on my waist.

“Mmm let me see your pretty face as you cum again.” his one hand goes to reach for the keys to undo my cuffs “you like my cock buried deep inside you, don’t you?”

The second my hands were set free, I ripped off the blindfold and my body reached behind his to pull him closer to me.

“Harder Lew, fuckkk I’m gonna cum. fuck fuck please i’m cumming.” I squirted again. Harder this time. Lewis only lasted a few more thrusts before he spilled his cum inside of my cunt.

“Fuckkkk, mmm you feel s’good. such a slut for me, my beautiful baby.” Lewis fucked me through both of our highs before he plopped his body down on mine as we both tried to catch our breath, his cock still buried deep inside my pussy.

Lewis pulled out of me before he flipped me around so we were cuddling.

“goodnight beautiful, we have a LONG morning awaiting us”

taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis44hamilton #lando norris smut #smut #george russell #f1 imagine #f1 smau

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daddyricsdoll · 6 months

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hi 💓 could you pls do “Do you ever shut up?” “Only when I’m eating you out.” w lando ? he's a yapper it just makes so much sense !!

His jpg photos and m0v video has me in a chokehold. And I decided to give you guys a sneak peek of what happened between me and Lando behind the scenes. 😉

1k ✭ Celebration!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I trusted my whole life with Lando, but if that meant he’d take me into random alleyways in Melbourne, oh… things could change.

Leading me down graffiti adorned walls and no breaths of life. Getting lost in his words that he didn’t even realise where he was taking me, now astray, but still not registering the hints of fear in my voice as I asked him where we were going. Somehow ignoring my question until I finally grew annoyed.

“Do you ever shut up?” I stop walking and question him, expecting his perfect lips to close and beautifully pigmented eyes to focus on me. But instead he smirked, taking a step closer to my still body.

“Only when I’m eating you out.” His words ticked me off and covered my vision in a haze to force me to forget whatever emotion I had before, and cover it in lust. Barely taking any steps back until my back hit a cold wall. Now becoming encased by Lando as he leaned further into my body. Nearly connecting my lips with his just until he decided to kneel down. Face inches from my body as he gets on his knees.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you.”

“Only if that means you’ll shut up.”

“For you? Always.” Lando whispers as he parts my legs, lifting my skirt and taking my panties off, not throwing them onto the ground but stuffing them in his pocket. Gripping my thighs to bring one of my legs over his muscular shoulder. Pulling my hips forward and making it an easier job for him to latch his mouth onto my core. Soft lips, roughly abusing my cunt. Immediately hitting the right spots and being an expert at pleasing me with his mouth as if he spent years studying women- better yet me.

Lando’s curls, a magnet to my hand, being impossible to not dig my fingers between them. And of course if it were anyone that were to eat me out in a public alleyway, it would be him. Not caring if someone found us, spectating the way my head falls back and I moan in endless notes. Thighs shaking as the man beneath my skirt and between my legs plays with my clit and tongue fucks me into a oblivion where words simply don’t exist.

Licking a stripe up my core and between my folds, spreading them with his tongue and exposing me to his mouth and eyes even more than a few seconds ago. Tensing my stomach and legs quivering just the same as my lips.

It was impossible to just focus on one sensation he created inside of me, because there were so many. Two fingers thrusting inside of my devastatingly desperate pussy and lips delicately kissing my clit before sucking it into intense pleasure. Other hand pushing against my lower abdomen and dragging up to grasp my breasts. Just knowing how he wished his large hands covered my neck.

It was no secret that my climax crept closer, my thighs involuntarily closing around Lando’s head and fingers pulling against his locks. Leaning further back against the wall for stability as I released. Exploding around his fingers and clenching tighter than a virgin.

Allowing Lando to finger fuck me out of my high. Slowly gaining the courage to pull out and look up at me.

Eyes glistening with a mix of hues of blues and greens, and blown out pupils. With compliments of my slick around his mouth. I stare back down at him, in awe of his beauty, waiting for him to stand up. But instead he welcomes himself back inside my pussy. Going at it like a lost and starved man, my core being a map and a feast.

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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I just read ur !Stripper!Reader x !Mafia!König fic and OMG!!! Can u pls write more about them but the reader is the popular one in the club?!

Night with you can cost a working man half of his income. A single lap dance can bring you enough money to finally quit this job - and you tried to before, on, multiple different occasions. You're smarter than this now, recognizing that there is absolutely no fucking way you're ever going to be free from this job. Maybe only if you're dead and buried in some undisclosed location. At least your cage is laced with gold and pillows - at least you know how to please dangerous men just enough so they would buy your dance for a few private occasions but not enough to make you their lover. You played the game well enough - before he showed up. Konig is too important to ignore, but you're too popular to rank him first class dance without making him wait. You hope he'd understand the memo - lady doesn't want to see him, lady is too busy getting her bra stuffed with crispy new euros. The gentleman doesn't care and can wait for the whole night to get the lady, however - even though it's nearly the end of her shift, and she already feels like dropping her stilettos and hoping that her last client would be too drunk to care that she is not dancing quite right. But Konig knows what he wants. The best girl in this whole club, maybe the best in town - and the only one that doesn't belong to him. The thought drives him crazy, almost enough to break the peace negotiations and take the territory from neutral grounds - not because he wants to branch out in the business of pleasure, but solely because he wants to have you. Needs to have you, with him, as close as possible. At all times, no matter what you might think or want. God, this infuriates him. But you're worth the wait. Maybe, if you didn't make him wait till the latest hour, he could have popped a boner sooner, masturbate for a bit, and forget about the way you make his nerves explode. Maybe if you didn't make him wait until he is fully ready to put his hands on your precious body, he wouldn't grow so obsessed with the way your body moves for other people. But you made him wait and in his wait, he grew impatient. He knows how to wait for good things, but you're too fucking good. Worth waiting for. You made the most dangerous man in the city earn for you like a schoolboy with his first crush - and Konig doesn't forget things like this so easily.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #mafia!konig

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joosthead · 3 months

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We need more bottom joost content im so fucking serious…I need subby joost or I’ll explode RAUGHHHHHH

FUCK i love a subby man ... i fully agree we need more subby joost bc just look at him. guhh . anyways hope you enjoy these thoughts teehee it's genuinely filthy pls heed my warnings. also i'm unsure honestly if this is subby more than it is about edging and overstim but . send me another ask w more thoughts if you'd like something different as well < 3

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: nb!reader. lmk if i missed something and it's not nb, i will change accordingly!!

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (unprotected sex, edging & overstim m!receiving), drunk sex (both drunk, but this is where edging comes in). send an ask if you need more details about this part <3

rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. do not repost this on any other platform.

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.

in general i feel like so much of his vibe is so pillow princey. he loooveess to lie down and take whatever you'll give him

he generally is a tease and loves being teased, and i think this is a huge part of his submissiveness—i won't pretend like i think he's the biggest subbiest sub ever with how fluid he is but i do think in every session together, he lurvsss some teasing and edging.

absolutely adores a handjob w edging. sunday morning and he's so so hard cuz he just woke up that way and he has to wake u up. you roll over and you're like "are you actually serious?" but you're not gonna let your baby suffer (and you tell him such, which makes him even harder). he doesn't know what's gotten into him—he's usually much stronger than this, usually the one pampering you, making you ask for it, but he fully turns so whiny when like this. in minutes, you have him moaning like a bitch, teasing him with your tongue but never actually taking him into your mouth; when he gets close, you cease your stroking of his cock, and watch as it's like his entire body reacts to it, and hear how labored and heavy his breathing gets when you've brought him to the precipice, but never over. a beautiful sight, his pink cheeks amidst his pale skin, the rosy color creeping down his neck and his chest and the leaking angry pink tip of his cock, wet and slick as you stroke him to completion.

loves being taken care of fsfs. being called pretty, handsome, pretty boy (this one especially). it's so serious for him. loves getting his ego stroked in all ways possible, but especially if he's on his knees for you.

it really never happens except for when you're drunk but. he fucking loves when ur both sloppy drunk and all you can really think is your own pleasure. there was one time you two came home from the club, kissed all the way up the stairs, you palming him through his jeans the entire way; then the moment you got him laid down on the bed, you rode him, got off, rolled over, and went to sleep. he had to jerk off by himself to get the edge off, looking at you next to him on the bed the whole time. in the moment, it was very (sad violin noises) but looking back on it—that drunk and frenzied look in your eyes, almost like you didn't care about him or his pleasure...it was so hot and a little part of him felt ashamed for thinking so.

but the shame never sticks around too often, never lingers. he knows you care about him, knows that it was just a symptom of one too many drinks and his hands exploring your body (i.e. your hips and ass) the entire night to make you use him the way you did.

drunk or not, i think his favorite occurrence is when you're riding him and he just gets to watch you lose it atop him, grinding back and forth on it. it may not be the most stimulating for him specifically. but seeing you use him, the only thought in your mind your own pleasure—he really loves it.

i don't think he'd be into being edged when you're actually fucking—the better alternative to being used like a toy is overstimulation. when he cums before you, there's something in his head that insists that he has to make you cum one more time before he can rest. then you say, "please, just a little more, joost," and he knows he has to do it. strangled, he says, "i can't, i can't do it anymore, schat," but he knows he should, sloppily thrusting into you before he gets soft, the pain of the overstimulation completely lost on him in the venture for your own pleasure.

i also have a lot of (good. great even) feelings about joost talking ab liking his ass eaten but idk if i can go that far here yet

i need him

#joost klein smut #joost x reader #joost klein #joost #joost x you #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein x reader #asks #juno's fics #juno’s hcs #juno’s smut

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glitterjay · 5 months

Note

Enhypen reaction when you take off your engagement ring after an argument 💔💍 (heavy angst to happy ending pls)

⭒ angst (but its happy at the end????), arguments

⭒ c's note: yall are making me cry and for WHAT. i also did this up to jungwon only because i just can't see ni-ki being engaged just yet. reblogs are appreciated!

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks

heseung had a really bad day at work. he was exhausted, and to be completely honest, he did not want to see anyone at all. so when he got home and ignored you, you confronted him about it. he had given you attitude when he first walked into the house, and you were not about to deal with that. the argument escalated quickly, with you taking your engagement ring and giving it to him. this made him realize quickly what he had done, realizing he shouldn't have taken his frustration out on you. he'd approach you gently, apologizing first about his actions and asking how he could repay it. he knew you wouldn't talk to him normally right away, and he was okay with it. he admitted he was the one in the wrong, but he'd beg you to put the ring back on

you and jay had been clashing a lot when it came to opinions, which often led to arguments between the both of you. tired of this behavior, you took the engagement ring he had given you a month prior and placed it in the bowl where you kept your car keys. jay noticed this and sighed, taking the ring in his hands and approaching you calmly. what had caused all of this were the fights you had often, so causing another one would be the worst thing he could do. he'd ask you to sit and talk it out with him, brainstorming ideas and ways you could avoid all these problems without ruining your relationship. he'd then give you the ring and tell you to wear it when you feel ready.

jake had snapped at you after you tried to explain why you hadn't told him you were going out beforehand. there was no need for him to yell at you like that, but he did anyway. with tears in your eyes, you took off the engagement ring you had on and dropped it on the floor. it was only then that jake realized he was being far too harsh and immediately apologized for his actions. he wouldn't care about the ring, actually. his priority then was to resolve what his actions had caused and to let you know how much he truly loves you.

you had taken your engagement ring out after a heated argument with sunghoon simply because every time you saw it, it reminded of you of the way he had snapped before your eyes. he knew he was wrong for exploding that way, and he was aware that both of you needed some time to relax and cool off before talking again. it made him sad when he saw said ring in the night table next to the bed. specifically the one on his side, but if he was being honest, he fucked up. it took him by surprise when you approached him first to talk things out, giving him your own ring so he could put it back in your finger.

it was rare when you and sunoo faught, but this time it had gone over the edge, making you take off the engagement ring he had given you, and tossing it out in some bowl that was laying around the house. it hurt his feeling, and it hurt you too knowing you broke the promise of never taking it off again, but there was nothing else you could've thought of in that moment. sunoo was quick to apologize first, not being able to take it anymore, and ask you to at least put the ring back on.

arguments were jungwon's least favorite part of a relationship, and it sure became his enemy when you took your engagement ring off and gave it to him after fighting over something quite stupid. he was incredibly upset about it, but took matters into his own hands to make a surprise for you as a way to apologize, and propose to you in the hopes you'll say yes and put on the ring again. (you did)

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janovavalen · 8 months

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Hi can you write a Percy Jackson x fem reader

The reader and Percy do not get along it’s like a love hate relationship.During episode 4 Percy sacrificing himself at St Luis arch the reader breaks down the door and sees him fall.she then jumps after him.When they get out the river they both have an argument about the whole incident.which leads to the reader admitting she cares about him.Happy ending pls.

an: OMG STOP STOP BC I ACTUALLY ACTIVELY SCREAMED AT THIS REQUEST ANONNNNN STOOOOP I LOVE THIS SM IM ABOUT TO WRITE IT RNNNNNRNRNRNRN

✧RECKLESS || percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: as the group go to their next destination they arrive at the arch, annabeth and y/n’s mom’s sanctuary for some time. just when they think they’re safe, things don’t go to plan.

word count: FUCKIN 5878 NO BC IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR THREE HOURSSSSS AHH

warnings: y/n and percy being in a enemies or lovers trope, annabeth and grover being third and fourth wheelers, arguing, near death experiences, slight blood warnings, poisoned percy, a bit of crying? LIKE A TINY BIT, y/n is very argumentative.

as the group made their way to the st. louis arch, they weren’t doing very good. at all.

on their way, the original plan was to get straight to las vegas, but thanks to the monsters and not wanting to take a break, their train got ruined by the mother of monsters.

as they walked into the front entrance of the arch that annabeth and y/n recommended. they had stated that monsters can’t get in and it will give them more time to find some way to get to las vegas a lot quicker than on foot.

‘six-hundred and thirty feet wide’ annabeth started—‘six-hundred and thirty feet tall, both two within an inch’

as they four of them walked fast enough to cause an old lady whiplash, percy and grover listened to the two of them explain their mothers sanctuary.

‘it’s got no internal support. each side is balanced perfectly against one another’ y/n states once more as annabeth nodded along with what she said.

‘the arch is held up by symmetry, it’s held up by math!’ annabeth expressed.

‘oh and it’s earthquake proof’ y/n added to annabeth’s comment, giving annabeth a small glance before they walked down the steps of the entrance into the small museum full of kids on a field trip.

‘it’s also high enough so poseidon can’t ruin it…but i don’t think mom would appreciate his child being in here, so.’ y/n looked over to percy who gave her a tight thin lipped smile before mumbling.

‘nice…’ annabeth and percy looked at the two before giving each other a look to soon squeeze themselves through the group kids.

‘excuse me’ annabeth mumbled to the boys and girls who turned and moved out of the way for the four.

‘this is how you show athena your love, a monument to the power of perfection’ annabeth told.

‘it’s a monument to some other stuff too’ grover added as they looked around and saw other things regarding more olden times, guns, head skeletons of buffalo and other things.

‘your talking about what some humans want this place to be about. we’re talking about what it actually is’ annabeth placed her hand over her own chest while looking at percy and grover who frowned but agreed nonetheless.

y/n rolled her eyes when she saw the amount of ‘skeletons’ and other things that litterd the walls and glass casing all around them. the people seeming to be pleased enough at what they saw to take a picture.

‘it’s sad to know they don’t know what it really means. very pathetic really.’ y/n mumbled to herself as she turned to annabeth. percy looked over at her and blinked before widening his eyes and choosing not to say anything about what she said.

‘whatever…we’re safe here, right?’ grover made sure to comprehend as they walked.

‘no monsters can enter…not even echidna’ y/n reassured grover who nodded nervously.

‘we’re safe’ annabeth added on.

‘great…well since our train exploded! i’m going to see if there’s another one we can get tickets on. we can’t stay here forever.’ grover looked over at the huge plastered picture of buffalo being attacked and hunted by hunters.

looking overly slowly at the three he said once more—‘just because we’re prey doesn’t mean we need to be helpless.’ turning around to leave, annabeth nervously cleared her throat and walked up to him.

‘wait! i’m going to go with you. you two wait here, don’t leave and don’t move’ annabeth ordered y/n and percy who frowned their eyebrows.

‘where would we go?’ y/n asked her with a raised eyebrow. annabeth rolled her eyes and caught up to grover who walked rather fast.

as the two of y/n and percy watched annabeth and grover walk away, percy decided now would probably be a good time to start a bit of conversation to stop the awkward silence.

‘he doesn't like it when people mess with animals,’ he added.

y/n didn’t both turn to his side but acknowledged his voice—‘yeah. i know.’

percy turned to y/n who kept her eyes focused on annabeth and grover even though they were long past the barrier of her eyesight.

‘…why are you so quiet?’ percy mumbled, his eyes looking over y/n’s frame that was unmoving from her standing position.

‘why does it matter?’ y/n turned to his presence now. seeing he was a bit away from here

‘it doesn't it’s just…you know…kind of awkward?’ percy nervously mumbled.

sighing percy didn’t want to really give up on the conversation knowing it would probably be best. the last thing he needed and had the time for was for y/n to snap at him, but it was worth the shot.

‘so, this is your moms place?’

y/n kept quiet and turned her eyes and head another direction from percy who kept speaking. clearing his throat he spoke—

‘be right down just going to the potty’ he said in a girly squeaky voice. this gained y/n’s attention.

as childish and stupid as it was, it was definitely an uplift from the previous mood. she lightly grinned but turned her head.

‘listen…me and you don’t get along and we both know that—‘

‘is it that obvious?’

‘shut up and listen okay?’ y/n sighed as percy nodded shamefully and let her continue .

‘i know you said it all in me and annabeth’s head…mostly mine? that i tell myself that our mother cares because it’s easier that way.’

percy let his eyebrows frown once more as he shook his head—‘i didn’t say that?’ he looked at y/n who turned her head to him and gave him a small look of which spoke—‘really?’

he shrugged it off and continued to talk—‘look ive been a demigod since…’ looking off to the side to calculate he finally came with an answer—‘last saturday. you shouldn’t listen to me.’ he told her as y/n let what he said soak in.

looking off to the side a bit she came up with some idea—plan for him to take, an offer.

‘you know, this is my mothers place. but…a temple is a temple. maybe you can say hi to your dad while your here?’ she explained.

percy seemed to almost take up her offer but quickly denied it. not wanting to really contact poseidon at the moment.

‘no thanks.’ he quickly shrugged off. this came undeniably confusing to y/n.

‘what could it hurt?’ she genuinely wanted her answer but he still shook his head.

‘your think with your mother…i get it, it’s different, it works for you. but my father…i don’t want anything from him. he had his chances—honestly you’ve done more for me in the past free days than my fathers done my entire life. if i have to stick with someone i—‘

trailing off as he caught himself y/n seemed to catch his slight slip up and tilted her head to the side a bit. her eyes looking him up and down before she smirked a bit—‘careful..i think you were about to call me a friend.’

before the beginning of the quest. before all of this. they had claimed in stone, they were and would never see themselves as friends. nothing more nothing less: the two of them simply didn’t see eye to eye. their priorities were set on two different things, and they both knew that.

but, things seemed to have change a bit on one end, and a lot on the other.

percy slightly looked down at the floor below as y/n turned her own head away from his.

‘somewhere around here the Oracle is laughing at us but you know—‘

as she said this percy seemed to feel insanely dizzy and instantly fell to the floor, y/n being there to catch him—‘whoa! percy? what’s going on?’ she asked him, being careful not to bombard him with too many questions given the fact he just fell out.

her arms being slightly wrapped around his shoulders he held onto her as he let her slowly let go of him. percy slightly sat down onto the floor as he caught his balance.

‘hey! what happened?’ grover and annabeth came running immediately when they saw him fall.

‘i think…i think those stinger things were poisonous…’ percy breathed heavily, his breath seeming to shorten on supply.

y/n looked around and it seemed to click for both the athena children—‘i have an idea’ the both of them claimed.

as the two of them grabbed up on percy they found themself in the water that sat in front of the museum. with percy sitting down into it, the other three stood as they scooped and splashed percy from the head down with water.

he sat there and took it as they kept going scoop from scoop, hoping something would happen.

passers walked by and some stood to watch what they were doing and they their were kids sitting in the fountain but none took it upon themselves to stop it.

‘the water cured him back at camp! it should work with poison too!’ y/n found herself quickening her scoops of water while annabeth looked momentarily at her sister who wore a very worried expression.

if anything, she’s never seen her this worried. not for a while. not for percy.

‘you know—i think, i think this is working’ percy grabbed onto y/n’s hand who helped him stand—‘this was a great call’ he acknowledged their idea but only to end up stumbling back down into the water with even more dizziness.

‘or not.’ he breathed out.

‘maybe it needs to be naturally running water for Poseidon to heal him?’ y/n mumbled while she placed her hand comfortingly over percy’s shoulder.

grover looked to annabeth who went to speak but just then they heard crashing and sirens going down just ahead of them. they all went to look and seen a police car being flipped into another car.

‘we need to get back inside!’ annabeth went to pick up percy along with grover but y/n was quick to deny.

‘no we need to keep trying!’

‘ this isn’t working y/n—and she’s coming!’ grover sadly looked at y/n who stressed her expression of worry towards percy who looked up at her momentarily before the two of them looked ahead along with annabeth and grover to see echidna slowly strutting her way over to them with a grin.

y/n breathed out and quickly thought—‘okay look, we’ll take percy inside and we’ll go to the temples alter’ y/n went to pick up percy who grabbed onto her arm and hand as the other two helped to pick him up as well.

‘alter? where is there an alter?’ grover asked, frowning his eyebrows at the two.

‘the highest point—the best view!’

‘okay! but what good is that even going to do us?’ grover stressed once more.

y/n sighed and looked over to annabeth who looked at her and percy.

percy had his grip held tight on her as she equally had the same amount of strength being held onto him to secure him from falling.

‘we’re going to get to the top, and we’re going to ask our mom for help’ she breathed out. grover seemed to stop for a bit along with y/n who was nervous about this plan.

‘ask mom for help? annabeth are you insane?’

‘i thought we didn’t ask for help?’ percy put his two senses in making annabeth look over to him. seeing they didn’t have much time for anymore conversations, annabeth ushered the group to begin walking.

‘come on; we need to keep moving’ annabeth spoke in a hurry.

grover placed percy’s other arm over his shoulder to help balance out their walk and annabeth stayed to y/n’s side.

just as they began to walk and y/n with annabeth failed to walk a bit and happened to stumble behind. echidna began screeching to the two girl who turned and started—couldn’t help—but listen. their expressions becoming more flat, a bit worried.

percy took a heavy notice of y/n’s absence and turned to see mainly her with a saddened expression on her face.

why did she look like that? what was she seeing? what was she hearing? his thoughts raced. seeming to focus on her rather than himself being poisoned.

she let her eyes widen and she snapped out of some trance along with her sister who gripped her arm—‘guys? did you hear that?’ y/n looked over to annabeth who nodded immediately.

grover and percy however?

‘hear what?’ percy asked her with concern. grover shook his head and y/n looked at annabeth who sadly looked down.

‘come on—let’s keep walking—go help percy’ annabeth told y/n who jogged to percy’s side and grabbed only his arm once more.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the group hurried their way around the people who were mindlessly talking with themselves—completely unaware of the danger that was happening for the demigod children. they kept turning around to make sure their backs were clear.

some people would momentarily look at the group who carried one boy who looked like he just seen a ghost as they had their wet clothes tracing the floor as they walked.

the four of them getting into the small sitting elevator, they sat down—‘what was that back there? what did you guys hear?’ he asked the two sisters, but his main eyes trained on y/n who didn’t say a word. annabeth doing the same , she found her pinky slowly reaching over to y/n’s.

she got the hint and fully placed her hand over annabeth’s. percy looked down at their hands and came with the conclusion.

‘she spoke to you two’ percy breathed. his body was cold, and wet. the poison doing nothing more and adding onto his weakness and cold body.

‘alecto did that with me. back in the museum back in new york’ he recalled. annabeth and y/n still not speaking a word, only looking down and blinking momentarily.

percy didn’t really want to admit but he was becoming concerned for y/n’s mind. what did she hear that was bad?

‘what did she say?’ he asked once more.

just then, annabeth looked up in a hurry and squeezed y/n’s hand who looked up as well—and there she was. echidna.

she stood over the small metal balcony with her moneyed baby right behind her.

just as the doors shut they saw the two horns. y/n let her eyes widen along with the rest of the group’s.

grover gulped but began to talk—‘was that the chimera?’ he looked over to y/n who place she head in her hands and held them their in stress—percy looking over with frowned eyebrows as his wet hair dripped into his eye.

‘i—i think that was the chimera!’ grover worryingly spoke. percy let his focus set on y/n who kept nervously looking anywhere but the group.

‘how did the chimera even get inside here? how did any monster get inside here—‘

‘y/n?’ percy breathed out, his worry building up on y/n who kept quiet. annabeth looked over at her sister who didn’t even look at her either.

‘we’re in a secretary, athena would have to let her in but why would she do that?’

‘y/n!’ percy called out to her once more. seeing her eye finally set up upon his own he hoped they could keep their eyes trained on one another.

‘what did echidna say to you?’ he asked—demanded and answer.

she worryingly looked back down before shaking her head a bit, biting on the inside of her cheek.

‘she said my impertinence ruined our mother pride. and that that, would be our doom.’ she looked angrily over at percy who shook his head.

‘impertinence? what kind of—‘ finally recalling. medusa’s head.

giving y/n the look of knowing she gave him a look as well as annabeth and grover watched them talk.

‘ medusa’s head.’ he nodded while y/n shook her head, a frown setting upon her features.

‘i embarrassed my mother…’

percy shook his head while trying to clear up his running thoughts—‘but—i’m the one who sent the head to olympus? i sighed the note—‘

‘and i went along with it! it embarrassed her…now she’s angry. because of your impertinence, and because i was dumb enough to go along with it, we won’t get any help, we won’t get an answer from her!’ y/n shouted to percy who shook his head.

‘y/n—‘

‘no! annabeth, he needs to understand this isn’t some game, this isn’t camp, we can seriously die out here, and he can’t just go around sending dead body parts to the gods just because?’ y/n stressed even more as percy nervously looked at y/n who avoided his eye contact once more.

‘guys…what are we going to do?’ grover broke the silence as they seemed to be near the top of the arch.

‘she isn't going to help us when we get to the top to have percy’ annabeth expressed to grover who cut her off—‘no i mean what are we going to do about echidna and chimera? they're going to be right being us,’ he exclaimed.

as the four of them looked at each other—percy hoping to catch y/n’s eyes but failed he looked down at the floor.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

‘we’re not going to have much time’ as the group let themselves out of the elevator, y/n getting out first to leave percy with grover and annabeth to help him out.

percy took a hard notice to this but tried to shrug us off—‘they’ll be up here any minute. and if our mother isn’t going to protect us, then we’ll just have to fight it out up here’ y/n finished as they walked up the short amount of stairs to the top.

once they did was when y/n lost her confidence for a second and saw a huge crowd talking among themselves with phones taking pictures and smiles on their faces.

and when percy, grover and annabeth were behind her, they saw the extent of trouble they were in.

‘oh no…we gotta get everybody out of here’ grover expressed with worry as he held onto percy.

percy looked to y/n who seemed to smile a bit with her idea.

running to the fire alarm she pulled it, setting off a loud beep that got everybody's attention.

as everyone slightly panicked and walked their way down the hall with the others, y/n placed her hand onto annabeth’s shoulder and ushers them along the hall.

‘you guys follow the group down the steps—‘

‘what?’ percy hurried to look at y/n who momentarily look at him then back at grover who spoke.

‘no, no—we—were not spitting up’ grover expressed.

‘grover come on!’

‘y/n i’m not leaving you here!’ annabeth spoke to her sister who gave her a sad look.

‘no… no no no no we’re all getting out of here together’ percy breathed out, hoping to get y/n’s attention. once he did he kept their eyes focused on one another.

‘we won’t make it! the chimera is a demigod killer! someone has to stay back to slow her down and buy everyone some time’ y/n walked with her hand on annabeth’s back while they walked to the steps with everyone going down in a hurry.

once they got to them, grover, annabeth and percy turned to y/n who stood at the door to make sure she shut it before they left.

‘okay—once you get downstairs you need get him to the river. and don’t stop. not till you get to hades. not till you have the bolt, do you understand?’ y/n looked at the three before looking at percy, he shook his head in denial.

‘y/n you can’t just stay here and say that and expect me to listen—‘

‘do what i say annabeth! just this once, okay?’ she pleaded. annabeth shook her head with a frown upon her lips, forever going the same.

‘okay go!’ she heard the footsteps of the two right behind and went to shut the door only for percy to speak.

not wanting to let her go he quickly came with a plan.

‘wait!—‘ taking the pen that formed into a sword out of his pocket he held it to y/n who looked at it.

flipping it around to make sure the handle would be in her touch, he held it out to her and spoke once more—‘take this’ he held out to her.

as she went to reach slowly, he waited for her grip to hold tightly onto it—only then did he switch sides, pushing her into the room and closing the door.

‘percy!’ y/n yelled out to percy who made sure the door was locked.

‘percy!?’ grover yelled. the three of them baging on the door as percy breathed heavily, his body weak and pale.

‘percy no! don’t do this! they’ll kill you!’ y/n yelled her voice becoming louder but more weak.

‘posiden never helped me before. he wasn’t gonna start now. i would’ve never made it to hades. but you can. and now you will.’ percy talked to them before he walked away from the foot. their banding never stopping.

‘percy! please?! you can’t do this!’ y/n cried out.

walking towards echidna and the chimera who walked their way to percy who’s eyesight blur more and more. causing him to stumble and his weakened grip on his sword.

‘this is the end sweetheart.’ echidna spoke softly, her motherly tone never wavered. ‘don’t fight it. you’ll only make her angry.’ she warned.

as the chimera walked over to percy he held his sword up higher with determination in his eyes. the chimera began to growl as she went to open her mouth, inside a small orange and red glow becoming prominent, percy swung his sword at the leg of the chimera, making it rawr out in anger and slight pain.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

behind the door y/n banged harder and harder, hoping somehow he would come back and change his mind.

annabeth couldn’t watch her sister be like this—hurt, confused, mainly disappointed. turning sound as she reached into her pocket to grab her own sword that extended, she let it change its form into a smaller pick pocket knife.

‘you two! go now, go to the bottom of the steps and wait outside, police are bound to show up, so stay with them and don’t move! i’ll meet you down there with percy!’ y/n demanded her sister and best friend who shook their head.

‘y/n please—‘

‘annabeth! listen to me! okay? i’ll be okay, i’ll see you guys down there, go!’ she pushed them slightly as they looked at y/n once more who nodded to the two, giving them a slight smile.

annabeth gave one back as she nodded and grabbed along of grover, the two of them making their way down the stairs.

as y/n turned around the let her knife be placed into the middle of the lock, letting it extend, it did just enough to to break the lock and break the metal of the door.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

pulling and pushing its paw up, she pushed percy far into the metal railing of the side of the wall, making him fall and yell out in pain. the chimera snarling at percy. as she walked over to percy once more he laid onto the floor with weak arms and body to see it open its mouth and their in the pit of her throat, fire. being bubbled and arousing through the back of her throat.

‘percy!’ y/n yelled. he turned around immediately to see y/n run towards him and pull him out of the way of the chimera’s fire that erupted through its throat and mouth, spreading and melting the floor below. y/n grabbed ahold of y/n as she pulled him away form the fire.

his grip holding onto her to make sure she was safe and unharmed, y/n quickly checked over percy as he nodded slightly.

in the distance, echidna raised her hand and flexed it towards the floor before them, a huge gaping hole being torn open into the carpet and metal floor. the wind from the highness of the arch blowing into the faces of y/n and percy who held each other.

the chimera roared loudly as y/n went to help percy stand up the two for them made their way over to the chimera with their swords in hand, y/n made her way in front of percy who noticed this and tired to quicken his pace so that he was in front of her.

swinging her sword the chimera dodged it and hit y/n so hard she passed out right onto the other side of the hole.

‘y/n! percy yelled—‘ soon percy tried his turn only to be hit with the chimera’s horns. throwing him back in the walk and down the gaping hole.

the chimera seeming pleased, it walked its way along with echidna to see percy still holding on.

‘y/n! wake up—‘ he grunted.

y/n paid along the side of the carpet ground with her head pounding.

‘so unfair. you never had a chance did you?’ echidna looked down at percy who was praying to whoever that y/n woke up right now.

‘if only someone cared enough about you to provide you with one’ she tilted her head as percy grunted and held onto the metal plate that was the only thing supporting him right now.

‘y/n?!’ he called out once more.

just afar, she grunted and let herself slowly wake up. just as she looked over and grabbed ahold of her sword. seeing echidna shake her head down into the hole she stumbled her way up, the blood on the head running down her eyebrow and down the side of her eye.

‘percy?’ she looked and saw he was nowhere to be found.

putting up all her strength, she stood up and hit echidna across the back of her head with her sword making echidna help out, the chimera turning around to her mother to her y/n had yelled out—

‘percy!’ she yelled seeing him reaching out to her as he fell, she took her jump and went right after him.

the two of them falling down further and further, y/n stretched her hand far enough for the two of them to be holding each other's hand.

as y/n felt herself lose consciousness once more from her injury, percy gripped her hand even tighter, and just as he turned a bit from the air around them, he saw a huge water thing, coming right towards them.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when percy came to. he was under the green water. the small fish and thing around him, he hurried his eyes and head to turn and see y/n not too far from him. her eyes still closed and her hair clouding around her.

swimming out and going to pull her up to the surface, percy felt himself and her go back down a bit—looking to see her foot caught and stuck around something that held her in place.

swimming down a bit to held her foot get unstuck he grunted and strained as the bubbles from his mouth started to flow and go up to the surface. pulling and pulling he suddenly saw something.

something glowing in the green water—‘you are frightened.’ it claimed.

blinking his eyes to see what it was he frowned, but kept pulling at y/n’s foot, his only priority was to get her out.

‘it’s alright percy. your father sent me to tell you, it’s alright.’ he paused a bit at this and looked over at the flowing glow.

‘just breath.’ she instructed. going to do so—he abruptly stopped and went back to pull at y/n’s foot. her head still bleeding and her body still unconscious.

‘your father is here, he’s always been here’ she continued to talk as percy pulled at y/n’s foot.

‘it’s so hard for him to stand back, to see you struggle. it is so hard for us all. but he’s here, and he’s so very proud. trust him. trust yourself. stopping his movements and looking over at the flowing glow, he held onto y/n’s leg who started to shake awake.

her eyes slowly opened and focused to see her and percy and somehow ended up into the water. she looked to see percy looking over at something, following his gaze she saw what he was seeing and frowned.

‘just breath.’ she told once more and when y/n turned down to percy, he breathed in and seemed to be breathing just fine under the water.

looking up at y/n he saw her holding her breath and went right back to pulling her foot with all his might, this time she was there to help. pulling up her foot, percy came with an idea, one that she definitely wouldn’t like.

going up to her, face to face, he placed his hand on her shoulder then soon her neck—if y/n couldn’t speak with her words, she definitely would with her expressions. with one that woke—‘what are you doing?’

he looked down with his eyes at her mouth and she immediately shook her head knowing exactly what he was implying. he looked at her and grabbed ahold of her cheek while she looked down to pull at her foot, her lungs burning and screaming for air.

percy gaining her attention, she blinked the water going in and out of her eyes and she held his eyes with her own. frowning she nodded her head slightly and let percy lean in under the water—his lips setting upon hers he breathed in his air to buy her more time. once they retracted, y/n and percy held eye contact before he kept his hand held on her own.

once he was down to her foot, he tugged as she pulled and soon she was free.

grabbing only y/n, the two of them hurried and swam to the top.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they got to the surface, they swam to the concrete surface and pulled themselves along the metal rails. y/n got the helping hand of percy who pulled her with the two of his hands.

‘your okay, are you okay? your okay, right!?’ percy rushed to ask y/n who caught her breath and immediately reached up to touch the blood and wound that happened to close up.

looking at percy who half his hand on y/n’s arm and neck he checked her body and she took note of how he was healed as well.

‘percy! i’m okay…im okay’ she soothed him as he slowled his movements and looked into her eyes.

‘you jumped after me…you followed me down not knowing what would happen—‘

‘how could i not percy! how could i not? you are so careless, reckless and so selfish to think nobody would think of you and how you could have died! you left me— us, behind in the staircase to go off on our own and save your mom from the underworld!? how messed up is that percy! she would want to see her son! not two kids who she doesn’t know!’ y/n percy in his chest who stumbles back.

he looked nervously up at y/n trying to grab her hand only for her to slap it away—‘your selfish, greedy, reckless and so so stupid percy jackson! and i’m stupid enough…’ when he heard this he looked at her from the ground to see her slowly shaking her head at percy who looked up at her with hope.

‘i’m stupid enough to be the idiot one as well and jump after you. and i’m stupid enough to have cared so much. too much about you. percy…you can’t do things like that…not now, not even. not as long as i’m alive.’ she felt her eyes water a bit with the amount of worry he put her through when she was behind that door and out of his reach.

percy took note to this and hurried to grab her up and hug her tightly. she arms immediately finding their way around his body and his wrapped along her body as well. the two of them held each other so tightly they forgot about the world around them.

when they let go from the hug that seemed to have lasted forever, sorry nervously laughed. y/n looked confusingly at him with a small grin on her face.

‘so…what happened underwater—‘

‘don’t!’ y/n placed her hands over percy’s mouth who smiled at her as she shook her head in a hurry, her cheeks seeming to redden.

‘y/n!’

‘percy!’ two voices yelled from behind them. the two of them turned around to see grover and annabeth running to them.

‘annabeth!’ y/n happily yelled. as they embraced each other, percy hugged grover who hugged him tightly.

‘your safe’ annabeth breathed out’—but how—‘

‘doesn't matter! what matters…is that we’re together, safe.’ y/n smiled as she turned around to grover and percy. her eyes lingering on percy a bit more which seemed to not go unnoticed by grover and annabeth.

‘come on! we need to get moving’ annabeth held her hand along y/n’s back who walked with her.

as they walked, annabeth and y/n talked amongst themselves while grover and percy walked.

grover noticed how percy’s eyes never left y/n’s form and his focus never left her.

‘so..’ he started. percy let his eyes linger but his head turn to grover before his eyes focused on him.

‘what happened under water?’ grover finished making percy abruptly stopped, pulling grover with him laughed.

‘what—how do you—‘

‘my ears hear many things dude’ he smiled at percy whose face was grew redder by the second.

turning to see y/n and annabeth still walking and talking he turned to grover, turning him around so their backs were friend to the girls.

‘under the water…i found out i can breath. but y/n was stuck so…to give her more air— i had to share my air—‘

‘so you kissed?’ grover interrupted making percy grow red all over—‘don’t say it like that and don’t let her you know! she’ll kill me…she also. happened to tell me she actually cares about me, a lot’ percy smiled at the recalling of what she said.

‘so…she basically confessed she likes you?’ grover added once more. percy looked to the side as he nodded slowly.

‘dude!’

‘grover please! don’t tell her—‘

‘i won’t i won’t!’

percy nervously breathed out before letting go of grover who straightened his jacket.

as the two turned around to see the girl waiting but still taking, grover turned it percy and yelled with a smile—‘so y/n what happened!?’ he ran over to y/n making percy run after him

‘grover!’ percy yelled.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy pjo #grover underwood #percy series #annabeth chase #walker scobell

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