#the dog still doesn’t have a name but will later in the week

[samglyph]

Meowlevolent Day 1: Domestic

[oceantornadoo]

dubcon, objectification, forced (?) threesome, f!reader

they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

ghost finds you ten months after your divorce, nursing a drink in a shithole of a pub. he doesn’t consider himself a good man, licking the tears on your cheeks when he fucks you for the first time, ignoring your whines of how “it’s been a while” and you’re “too tight.” he doesn’t like to keep birds around longer than a night, but something about how you wrap your leg around him in the morning makes him stay a little longer.

he lets you call him simon after you whine that you “can’t fuck him without knowing his name.” it takes a bit, but you get used to sleeping with someone who isn’t your ex-husband. he calls you bird instead of sweetheart, love instead of darling and after a while, the word honey loses its significance. when simon tells you he’s military, you try to leave his bed, only for him to pull you by the thigh, apologizing with his tongue in your cunt. simon doesn’t date and you aren’t ready for it, content to stay in your respective apartments, living for his occasional half-smiles and usual gruff admonishments. its a bit new to simon - he’s used his camera app more in the past weeks than he has in years. always pictures of you: his cum on your tits, the bruises he leaves on your hips, a rare photo of you sleeping. he even lets you corral him into taking a cheesy mirror picture, his arms dwarfing your waist with his face tucked into your neck, your jawline exposed as you turn to kiss his cheek.

it’s two months later when you promise to cook him a meal for the first time, a sunday roast he hasn’t tasted in years. “better not take too long, bird, ‘m starvin’.” simon murmurs in your ear, hands squeezing your stomach and waist as you fumble with your keys. “i’ve had it slow cooking before i left for yours last night. it’ll put us in a food coma.” you finally put the key in the lock, turning it with force before simon decides to fuck you against the door. he dips to bite your neck, sending you into your apartment giggling, swatting him off you. the weight of your divorce is finally off your shoulders, happy butterflies fluttering in your stomach formed by simon’s continuous presence.

the butterflies die when you see a familiar pair of boots at your door.

“stay here.” you order simon, a change from your usual dynamic. you can’t focus on his reaction, set on edge by the sounds of pots clanging in your kitchen. there’s no point in creeping - he knows you’re here. you turn the corner and there he is - your ex husband. “you’re just in time, sweetheart. nice ‘f you to make a roast.”

john’s standing there like he owns the place, like he knows this kitchen he’s never been in. he’s boiling potatoes on the stove, keeping an eye on the slow cooker timer. he’s even poured himself a fucking drink, a scotch he had to have brought since all you have is wine and simon’s whiskey. all smug and entitled in his civvies, commanding the room like he pays your rent. he's still as handsome as ever, darker eye bags the only indication he's been losing sleep.

“what the fuck are you doing here, john?” john doesn’t answer immediately, instead using a fork to test the potatoes. satisfied, he takes them off the burner and turns to the sink, dumping them out in a prepared strainer. “‘s our anniversary, sweetheart. thought that’s why you made the food.” you can sense simon still in the doorway, his presence unknown to your ex. it gives you strength, a guard dog at your back, and comfort that he’s letting you run this on your own. “our anniversary ended when we signed the papers. i don’t know how you got in here, but you need to leave.” he frowns at you and it almost tugs at your heart strings. your brain conjures images of his coldness and constant distance, and you shut that down real fast. unfortunately, he doesn’t get the memo. john takes a step closer, hands up like he’s approaching a wild animal. “honey, i-“ and that’s when ghost steps out of the darkness.

there’s a long pause. it boosts your ego a bit, showing john you’ve moved on, until the silence is so long that you start to worry. you chance a look at simon’s face and find it confused, not at all the guard dog you thought he was. a glance at john’s reveals the same. you’re about to ask your question when they answer it for you. “captain.” “lieutenant.” “what?”

the transformation happens in an instant. both men straighten to their full heights, wiping any emotion off their faces. their brows furrow as they flex their hands to control their instincts. how could you not see it before? simon only mentioned he was military, but the stamp of the SAS is clear as day. it was in the harsh lines he carried, a companionship with death, not unlike the one john had.

john started first, of course, always having to take control of the situation. “you fuckin’ my lieutenant, sweetheart? miss me that much?” you rolled your eyes at his cruel words, inching closer to simon. “whatever we do doesn’t concern you.” you emphasized the “you”, spitting it out with venom. john hums low, making you nervous. you turn to simon, but he's quiet and calculating, communicating silently with his captain.

"didn't know you had a wife, sir." you answer before john can. "we divorced a year ago." john chimes in. "to the day, actually. she served me on our anniversary." simon looks down at you, the man you thought you knew now gone. his eyes are black pits, targeting you like you're prey. "that's cruel, bird." you sputter, backing into the kitchen cabinets. you walk until your back hits the sink, each man on either side of you. john has his arms crossed and head cocked to the side, like you're about to get chewed out by the school principal. simon looks...no longer human. unrestrained. whatever spark you two had has gone out, replaced by sheer loyalty to his captain. "show the captain what he's been missin', love. y've been starvin' him." he moves at lightning speed, picking you up and dropping you on the island counter, sunday roast long forgotten.

"simon?" he doesn't answer, scarred hands squeezing up and down your body as john watches from behind him, arms crossed and eyes searching. your mind is telling you one thing but your body wants another. some twisted part of your brain reminds you that john came to visit on your anniversary, even though you threw him out a year ago. simon's no better, coaxing your sweater off your torso, leaving you exposed in a lacy bra. your nipples harden and john sees, making a clicking noise with his tongue. "warm 'er up, lieutenant." simon obeys instantly, pulling down the cup of your bra to suck on your nipple. he's ravenous, no sunday roast in sight, and he's decided you're his meal instead. he sucks hard, a calloused hand reaching up to pull your other tit out so you're fully exposed to your two men. he squeezes it with reverence, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sucks hard on the other one, not minding his own teeth.

it's dirty - watching john watch you. you hadn't fucked in the last months before the divorce. he was always too busy, on base or deployed, and you were so angry you couldn't let him near you. now, your ex-husband moves closer, taking in the sight of his lieutenant feasting. "miss me, sweetheart?" you shake your head on instinct. he sighs at your attitude. you're seated on the corner of the island, perfect for john to come up on your side, one large paw making its way towards your jaw, turning you towards him. "say it." you shake your head again. john sticks a thumb into your mouth, pushing against your teeth. you try to force him out, but simon bites your tit, making you gasp and let john in anyways. you suck his thumb defiantly, gazing at him with all the emotions you can't convey.

you look so pretty like this, john decides. laid out for his lieutenant, taking his orders as well as your emotions will allow. he decides to forgive you for your indiscretions with ghost - at least it was with one of his own men. they're practically an extension of himself. john hooks his thumb into the gap between your tongue and teeth and pulls, forcing you right into his space. "i reckon your cunt's nice an' wet, though. should i check? know she's missed me even if you won't admit it." your eyes go wide, giving him an answer he already knew. simon follows orders well, manhandling you into position by yanking off your jeans. there's a wet spot on the light fabric of your underwear. john can practically see your cunt clinging to it, begging for him to say hello.

"want ya to take 'em off y'self, bird." simon's finally speaking, the glaze in his eyes fading. he looks at you, then his captain, and it makes sense. how you're used to being led but refuse it all the same. how you're desperate for affection but won't date him because he's military. you're scarred from the chains of your marriage, so it only makes sense that he's the one you seek out - the opposite of husband material. more dog than human on his worst days. simon stares at you until you follow his command, meekly lifting up your hips as you take off your underwear. your cunt is sopping, in a way it only does when you’re ovulating, practically begging for it. your ex-husband whistles through his teeth like he’s praising a recruit. “knew she’d be happy to see me. hullo, darling.” you can’t find it in you to cringe. john starts running his fingers through your folds, inspecting, and all you can do is stare. stare at the veins in his forearm. stare at simon behind him, eyes trained on his captain’s movements. stare at the counter where your juices start to gather and wonder how the hell you got into this situation.

“pinch ‘er tit an’ watch ‘er flutter.” simon’s callous with his instructions but john follows them anyway, his unoccupied hand reaching up to pinch your nipple. you can’t help the gasp that escapes you, the way your cunt flutters around john’s fingers. he hums thoughtfully. john decides you’ve been good, if not a bit quiet, and presses his thumb against your clit as a reward. he starts rubbing in that pattern that would get you off without fail during your marriage. he fits one finger into you easily as you grip the counter hard, the sudden sensation overwhelming. simon peers over his shoulder like a fucking scientist. “‘f she gets bratty, i pull back the hood til she screams.” like your cunt’s a machine and they have the two pieces of its manual. john’s movements are making you desperate, hips starting to buck against his fingers. he chuckles and adds another, not hiding a smile when you sigh in relief. simon’s hands come to your waist, helping you fuck yourself on price’s fingers. it feels so wrong, having them barely listen to your pleas, and yet being under their watch is the most right you’ve ever felt in your life. that’s what brings your orgasm - not john’s thick fingers on your cunt, his rough thumb in your clit - but two sets of hungry eyes on you, like you’re their last meal. john fucks you through your orgasm, simon not letting you out of his grasp until tears start to form, the embarrassment of your own wetness coming to the front of your mind. john slowly removes his fingers and brings them to simon’s mouth to taste, not satisfied until his lieutenant hums in agreement. the two men turn to you, naked save for your disheveled bra around your waist, somehow making the scene more depraved.

“‘ow ‘bout that roast, love?” simon murmurs gruffly.

good thing john never signed the divorce papers.

[readwritealldayallnight]

“-and every year after that, we always had double chocolate chip cookies instead of regular chocolate chip. Made me stand out at the school bakes sales, too! And I would beg and beg and beg my mom to make them before any other sweets-”

“Got my stomach grumblin’ over here now, love.” Simon cuts off your rambling with a loving chuckle. The first winter’s snow began falling from the sky in London that morning, and you’d been eager to tell your lover about the traditions you’d had growing up around this time of year.

“Well imagine how I felt, Si!” You say with a giggle, patting his stomach in emphasis. “I swear, it’s become a true Pavlovian response, I see the first snowflakes and I instantly start craving those cookies again. Like when I was little…”

Simon sees the melancholic smile playing across your lips, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that first chance he gets, he’ll be ringing your mum to get said recipe from her.

And if you walk into your shared flat a few days later, the smell of burnt something wafting through the air, fire alarm beeping incessantly, coming upon a flustered looking 6’4” behemoth of a man swatting a flowery dish towel through the air in attempt to dissipate the smoke coming from the oven, well, the sentiment behind your lover wanting to surprise you with your favourite treat from childhood is a thousand times sweeter than the cookie itself.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ooh, look at those ones over there!” You exclaim, tightening your grip on Simon’s arm. You’re both strolling through a local farmers market on a dreary Sunday afternoon with nothing better to do. Your free hand points towards a stall selling beautifully intricate bouquets of flowers. “They’re so pretty for this late in the season.”

Simon is glancing over at the stall, minutely nodding in agreement, before his gaze shifts back to the crowd.

“Want one?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. Just thought they looked nice. We don’t need any.” You say, leading him past the stall, not noticing when he glances back over his shoulder to remember the name written at the top of the display.

Once back home, upon hearing your gasp of surprise followed by what he recognizes now as your excited squeal, he smirks to himself in the other room, knowing you’ve stumbled upon the bouquet he had delivered during your nap.

What you don’t know is that he’s already set it up so that you’ll be receiving a new fresh set of flowers every week now, delivered straight to your front steps.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Really wasn’t that bad this time around, promise.” You mumble into his firm chest, his muscular arms holding you there as you snuggle on the couch. He got back from a two week deployment last night, and you’re still catching him up on everything he missed. “I made a point of going outside everyday, for a change of scenery at least.”

“Tha’s good, lovie.” He whispers, running his digits through the strands of your hair, careful not to tug any time he runs into knot, instead gently trying to comb it out himself.

“Not like I was all alone, anyhow.” You say with a small giggle, biting your lip. He finds himself answering with his own lighthearted chuckle, sitting up straighter to glance at the table over your shoulder. “Gave me something to look forward to each day, feeding the lil’ guy.”

“Was hoping it’d be a nice surprise for ya. Not another chore…”

“Oh, Goldie’s not a chore.” You laugh, swatting at Simon’s chest. You also take the time to glance over at the goldfish in question, swimming in the small circular fish bowl that Simon had somehow snuck into the flat the day before he left. He hated the idea of leaving you alone all the time, never knowing when he’d have a chance to speak on the phone, and he didn’t want to burden you with a larger, more high maintenance animal like a dog or cat. And so, Goldie was brought home.

“Although, I’m worried maybe he’s getting lonely when I’m out of the house. Might have to get him a friend.”

Simon doesn’t even try to hide the corny grin that spreads across his face.

“Have I ever told you the joke about the two goldfish in a tank?”

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[changisworld]

“Why do you make me feel like this, pretty?”

fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count; 5,902

Summary: After hyunjin took your virginity, you grew attached despite trying your hardest not to. You find out he hooked up with someone the day after it happened which broke your heart, making you cry.. but of course, hyunjin caught you crying. He didn’t really know what he felt, it being new to him, as he tries to refuse the silly ideas popping into his brain, he can’t ignore how much you being upset is making his heart.. hurt?? Surely he doesn’t like you too..?

18+ ONLY, MDNI, SMUT UNDER THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

part 3 here

**This can be read on its own despite it probably being confusing but i highly recommend reading part 1!**

SMUT WARNINGS: spit/drool, PIV, needy reader, pet names, shyish reader, rimming( f rec), oral ( f rec), fingering (f rec), finger sucking, unprotected sex, jealous jinnie, edging???,pull out method, literally 1 spank, slight dacryphilia, jealous jinnie, soft jinnie, kind jinnie, hyunjins a tease obvs, slight aftercare, wayyy fluffier ending than last time you're welcome!!

You & Hyunjin walk off campus, you still hiding your face from him, embarrassed at the tears now staining your cheeks, your face tinged red, you also don't fail to miss the looks you & Hyunjin are receiving from other students walking past the both of you, his arm still around you & you can't help but feel judged, so you push his arm off.

"Forget the cafe, I'm just gonna go home, I feel.. sick. I'll see you later Hyunjin." you murmur, still not looking at him in the eye.

"Y/n stop being weird, just cmon. I promise to cheer you up." He replies back, reaching out to cup your cheek but you move your head before murmuring a quick 'bye' before walking away from him hastily, leaving him standing there, confused & a bit annoyed.

He watches as you turn the corner & he huffs before kicking a stone nearby. 'Why do I care she's actually upset? 'What did I do wrong?' 'I hope she's okay' & 'Shit how can I apologise' are all thoughts that race through his head, no matter how much he tries to shake it all off, he genuinely feels guilty. But why? He never feels sorry for the girls he fucks n chucks, so what makes it different? He barely even knows you? He only spoke to you for a week which is barely anything. He sighs before pulling out his phone & going onto his contacts, about to call Joy, another one of his side things, before deciding against it, instead calling his friend Jisung& asking to meet him.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Twenty minutes later Jisung meets him at the local dog walking park & they end up sitting on a bench, talking about random stuff before the topic of you comes up, but not because of Hyunjin.

“You’re lucky you got to partner up with y/n for that assignment, I got put with Changbin so obviously i fucking failed, tryna do that presentation on the spot was absolute torture, you still talk to her? she seems quiet as hell.” Han sighs, sipping his bubble tea through his straw & Hyunjin laughs.

“Ay! I actually helped her so shut up, just because you both have no more than eight brain cells, i’m just proof there is such a thing as looks & beauty. Nah, we haven’t really spoken since, just been busy i suppose & what the hell am i meant to say to her?” Hyunjin replies, a quick chuckle leaving his lips.

“What do you mean you’re proof that looks n beauty exist, y/n basically invented it you idiot. Wha'cha mean what are you meant to say to her? Did you fuck her too or something?" Han questions, leaning forward.

Hyunjin just kisses his teeth before nodding & Han just raises his eyebrows. "fuck, I didn't think someone like y/n would get around that way. Can you do me a favour n start speaking to her again n put in a good word about me I wanna approach her but she feels intimidating, you get me?" Once Hyunjin hears these words, a bad & gross feeling bubbles up in his stomach.. is what he feeling... jealousy?

"Uhh.. you're really not her type, she's not up for dating, she told me. Go try your luck with someone else." Hyunjin says in a bitter tone, not looking at the man in front of him & Han scoffs.

"You chat shit Hyunjin, stop gatekeeping! I'll just use my charms & trust me, we'll be fucking a week later n dating two weeks later." Jisung jokes, patting Hyunjins leg but he pushes it off.

"You're ridiculous Jisung, she won't want what's between your legs." Hyunjin spits out before standing up off the bench, stretching out & sighing. "I have things to do, you can keep day dreaming, I'll see you later. choke on your boba." Hyunjin jokes with Han & he spits out a bubble as a response before he walks away, leaving Han on the bench.

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He walks through the rest of the park, thinking about Hans words & he can't get over it. 'Why am I so jealous?' 'Who does he honestly think he is talking about y/n like that?' 'They wouldn't even look good together.' are things that keep racing through his head & he is getting more pissed off as the seconds go by.

He gets out of the park & he keeps walking on the pavement, not having an actual destination in mind.. until he seen you walking out of a random convenience store across the street & a lightbulb lights up behind his brown eyes.

He picks up the pace of his walk as he follows just far enough behind you on the other side of the road until you reach your apartment complex before entering & he can't help but feel like an absolute creep, but that doesn't stop him. He screenshots his location on find my Iphone, just so he won't forget where to go later on as he walks back the way he came, heading to the main line of shops near the campus.

He strolls around for around twenty minutes, looking at random little trinkets, bookmarks with the college logo on it, which he cringes at due to the look of it, before he keeps walking until he reaches a little florist shop.

He enters it, aimlessly walking around, fingertips grazing over a few roses & tulips, admiring the pretty colours as he sets his eyes on a bouquet of lillies. He picks it up, giving himself a better look at it before deciding he is happy with it, heading to the counter.

He places them down, not paying attention to the cashier as he looks at the little vases beside the register.

"Can I get this pink vase to- ohh, I didn't know you worked here Jennie, hiya." he says, surprised. "Sure. You know, Lisa doesn't like lillies, I suggest you get her daffodils, her favourite colour being yellow n all." she responds, smiling up at him. "Ah, they.. they're not for Lisa so I'll pass. Can you fill up the vase with a bit of water too? I think that's what you're supposed to do, right?" he says quickly, hand coming up to the back of his neck, the awkwardness filling the small space.

"mhmm. £29.11 is the total." She says in a cold voice, taking the tag off the vase as she turns around to the small sink, filling up the vase 1/3 of the way. She dumps the bouquet in the vase with no care at all before pushing it towards him, giving him the card machine. He pays, a strained, awkward smile on his face before saying thank you & leaving.

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After buying you a box of chocolates & a Vanilla bean smelling candle & following the path you walked on earlier, he ends up back outside your apartment complex.

He sits on the front steps, waiting for someone to leave the building so he can catch the door & once he is inside, he begins knocking on every door, talking to each person who answers in a quiet voice, Ignoring the confused looks of other students who recognise him who are all definitely wondering why he is knocking doors looking for you, making sure you wouldn't hear him & then refuse to open the door.

He reaches the fourth floor, mouth slightly dry from all the talking he has had to do & he is beginning to doubt his memory. He knocks on the third door & takes a step back, waiting for an answer as he hears footsteps & he can't help the smile that spreads across his face as you are the one who open the door.

"Surprise, & I'm not just talking about my pretty face. Can I come in?" he chirps as he raises his arms, making sure you see what he has brought despite it being almost all you can see, not missing the chance to give you an up & down look, you wearing black tight shorts & an oversized off the shoulder graphic shirt.

"Hyunjin, I told you I was sick.. How the hell do you know where I live?" you question, honestly just confused. "Does that matter? I asked a question, Don't leave me standing here I went to like twenty doors to find you!" he pouts. You roll your eyes & begin to shut the door but Hyunjin stops it with his foot.

"Okay okay okay! I followed you, but not in a creepy way I swear! I just wanted to.. apologise? But I knew you would ghost me If I text you." he says in a sulky voice. You groan before opening the door back open, his pretty face poking through the gap. "You are a creep, you know that? Why you apologising?" you question him, crossing your arms, not amused but slightly flattered despite not showing it.

"I'm not going to broadcast my deep, heart warming words in the corridor for everyone to hear, just let me inside, pleaseee." he pouts again & you just sigh before moving out of the way so he can enter, taking his shoes off as soon as they touch your laminate flooring.

You walk into your connected living room & kitchen before sitting on your corner kitchen counter, your legs swinging off it as Hyunjin follows behind you, looking around at the cute random decorations hung up on your walls & on the mantle pieces.

He places the flowers on your coffee table before walking back into your small kitchen & leaning on the opposite counter top, still holding the chocolates & candle.

"Okay, Can I give you my apology now? I rehearsed this to make sure I get everything right." He tries to joke but you just look at him with a blank expression before nodding, encouraging him to continue. "Okay, I didn't realise how much I've upset you & I'm sorry for not trying to check up on you sooner & stopped speaking to you. I partially didn't even mean to ghost you but I also genuinely thought you wouldn't speak to me anymore since you're always so concentrated on lessons & studying, I thought you would have thought I was getting in your way. I'm also sorry for fucking with that girl & you overheard it, if I'm genuinely being honest, I did it to try wipe my mind of you. I know what we did is a huge thing & it was wrong of me to have acted the way I did, if i'm being honest, this was the first time I did what we did so I just didn't really know how to act, but I'm genuinely sorry y/n. Chocolates?"

He blurts out, not taking his eyes off you as he feels his cheeks go hot, the nerves & also the way you're looking at him making him flustered. You both sit in silence for a minute, him waiting for a response & you thinking of a response.

"Gimme the box & light the candle for me, second drawer to your right n you will find a lighter. If you felt like this all week, You've still had seven days to come n tell me this but instead you've let me feel like shit for a week, this was the exact reason I was unsure to do it with you Hyunjin, in fear something like this would have happened & instead of just growing a pair & talking to me, you fuck someone else to just try forget?" You reply, your voice getting a bit shaky without meaning it, the feelings of it all hitting you again.

Hyunjin listens as he digs into his pocket & pulling out his own lighter & lighting it before putting it on the counter & he walks the few steps over to you, handing you the chocolate before standing right in front of you, leaning his hands on the counter on the outside of your legs, caging you in.

"Please y/n, don't think like that. I know I should have swallowed my pride n apologised earlier, I was just trying to convince myself I didn't give a fuck but I do, hence why I'm here. I honestly think you used those crystals & manifested this or something." he mumbles the last part, looking away from you, his ears going red after hearing his words out loud & your legs stop swinging as you pause at his words.

"What do you mean you actually give a fuck? What are you trying to say." you reply back, resisting the urge to reach out & stroke his hair. Hyunjin sighs & shakes his head. "Don't make me spit it out y/n, It's just gonna sound like a lie to you." You get an anxious feeling in your belly before taking his chin & guiding him to look back up at you. "Hyunjin, just say it, it's only me here anyway. Just say what you gotta say." you respond in a quiet but firm voice, honestly scared.

He doesn't have much option but to look at you as he lets himself melt into your hand lightly before taking a deep breath. "I.. care about you? I don't know, it feels weird but like... I genuinely felt like shit after how I treated you n i've tried to bury it but it just won't leave, I don't really know what it is about you n honestly it scares me." he says in a quiet, quick tone & your jaw drops.

You just freeze as you both just look at each other in complete silence not including the quiet crackling of the candle & your living room clock ticking. Hyunjin can't bare the awkwardness anymore as he gets shy for the first time in years, moving his arms to stand completely upright but you pull him in by the shirt to hug him, tears threatening to leave your eyes as his arms wrap around you in return.

"This better not be some sort of sick joke Hyunjin or i swear I'll kill you, you're gonna boost my ego to a fraction of what yours is." you half laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. "It's not, dead serious. You're just different n I don't know how to feel about it, stop casting spells to make me attached to you. I've been itching to ask to see you all week, I wish I wasn't being so stubborn." he muffles into your neck, moving his head side to side slightly, his nose tickling your neck, making you lean more into him, chuckling at his stupid joke.

"Stop with the silly magic jokes, you're ridiculous. I want to say you're not forgiven since you need to prove to me you're not talking out your ass but I do accept your indeed heart warming apology & I appreciate it just more than the flowers n chocolate." you say in a soft voice & you feel Hyunjin smile against your neck before he moves & kisses the tip of your nose, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"That's what I wanted to hear, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had told me to fuck off, my first ever rejection coming from the first person I've ever bought a present for that isn't my mom." You chuckle at this before hopping off the counter, grabbing the box of chocolates that were staring at you.

"Rejection? You tryna say you like meee?" you tease, taking his hands before swaying them back & forth & he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Was it not kinda obvious? I wanted to say it without directly saying it in case I embarrassed myself but... yeahhh I have a tiny crush, I think you made us soul tied or something." you just 'tut' at his remark but your face goes bright red at his confession, cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling.

"I'm touched. Got thee famous playboy hwang Hyunjin to like like me, not sure if it's a surprise but I like you too." You kiss his cheek before leading him to the couch as you sit on it, him flopping next to you. "Enough of the soppy talk for now or I'll get embarrassed, you can choose a movie while I get us a blanket." He just nods & you hand him the box of chocolates & he begins opening them as you scurry to your room to get your favourite fluffy blankets.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both end up watching a recommended Netflix romcom suggestion, both of you devouring your chocolates but you pay no mind to it.

Some point throughout, your legs end up swung over his as your head lays against his shoulder, him stroking your hair with one hand as the other hand caresses your thigh.

Every few minutes or so, you focus less on the movie & more on his touch as his hand slowly rises up your leg, then your thigh & his hand is now grazing against your inner thigh over your tight shorts, giving you goosebumps, which he doesn't miss.

This continues up until Hyunjin repositions himself, pushing your legs off him so he can lay down over your thighs, his view now sideways of the TV, not that he cares, not paying the slightest bit of attention anyway as you momentarily tense up beneath him.

You continue stroking his hair, sometimes digging your fingers into his scalp a bit to scratch it, making him let out a satisfied hum. You can't help but keep looking down at the beautiful man laying on you & you can't help but smile to yourself.

As if he can feel your eyes burning into his skull, he moves the blanket down your legs enough to expose your legs enough for him to begin planting little pecks on them, slightly tickilish but you don't miss the wetness now pooling under your shorts. "Stop teasing Hyune." you speak up, your voice quiet & he just chuckles.

"If you don't want me to tease, I won't complain if you lay back." he replies, not bothering to look up at you as his hand reaches to squeeze your thigh softly as he keeps giving your legs kisses, suckling at them slightly,

You think about what he says & you would be stupid to deny the chance, your pussy clenching around nothing. You lightly push his head up off you & he takes the hint, moving & you push the side of his arm, towards the edge of the couch & he looks at you slightly confused but does what he thinks you're hinting at, getting onto the floor right in front of you, looking up at you with his pretty eyes.

You give him a shy smile before you take it upon yourself to wriggle your shorts & underwear off, leaving your bottom half completely nude, biting your lip in anticipation.

"You really got this desperate since last time I saw you?" he teases & you put your hand in front of your cunt, covering it with how shy you've just started feeling but he is quick to pull it back off, looking at the small shimmer on your middle finger before licking it off in one go.

"Don't be shy, gorgeous. I've been just as desperate if not more, can I get a taste?" he says in a sweet voice, not looking away from you, stars in his eyes. "Please.. If you want to." you respond, hiding your face in your hands but he reaches up & swats your hands away yet again as his other hand begins to slowly drag through your folds, making your hips buck.

"Stop hiding, where's your confidence gone hmm? Do I make you that nervous? trust me, there's nothing I want more." he leans in & kisses right next to your lip before smirking at you & sinking back down onto the floor, blowing cold air onto your now soaking cunt, making your legs tense up & he tongues his cheek as he watches your face twitch.

He spreads your folds open, getting a better view of your hole, clenching around nothing before he licks a long, slow strip from your hole to the top of your clit, letting out a low groan in the process. "Taste better than anything y/n, I fucking swear." he says as he looks up at you for a split second. "eyes on me, if you look away I'll stop." he voices before digging in.

You do as he says & make eye contact with him as his mouth latches onto your cunt as he begins letting spit roll off his tongue, mixing with your juices just before slurping it back up, not afraid to make as much noise as the mixes of juices allow.

You weave your hand in his hair & play with his hair & scratch his scalp for him as he suctions his tongue onto your swollen button, both of you groaning at the same time.

"Hyune, so good" you whimper out, your breath shaky as your eyes struggle to stay open & you feel Hyunjin smile against you. He brings his fingers up to your clit before rubbing it in a steady rhythm as he lets go of before his tongue find its way into your opening before beginning to tongue fuck you & you throw your head back, your moans now louder than the TV still playing behind the both of you, your legs now closing around his head, not that he pays attention to that anyway, if anything he is enjoying it.

You begin to clench around his tongue which he remembers is your tell tail sign you're about to orgasm, your moans getting higher pitched & your grip on his hair getting tighter & he chooses to worm his tongue out of your hole before pinching your clit between his two fingers & dropping a glob of spit to it before giving it one more lick, smirking.

"I wanna try something I think you might like, turn over so you're facing your back to me, hunny." You huff at the beginning of a future orgasm beginning to appear suddenly bubbling away but you do as he says, slightly confused.

You get up on your knees & rest your elbows on the back of the couch, you now looking at the wall behind you. "Why am I fac-" you're cut off as Hyunjin spreads your cheeks & begins fondling them as he begins suckling on your pussy from behind, letting out a satisfied hum behind you as you begin kneading the couch until your fingers begin to ache, biting your lip to try hold back moans.

"G-gonna cum Hyunjin, keep g-going." you whimper, pushing yourself into his face, seeking even more from him if it's even possible & he gives you a quick slap on your ass as he removes himself from your cunt again, much to his own displeasure.

"Don't bite your lip y/nnie, I wanna hear you fully, Mkay?" he speaks from behind you as you yelp at the impact & he hums as he keeps kneading your ass, giving it a few kisses. "Your ass is to die for, you know that? Gonna taste it." Before you can even process what he says, your mind too full of lust to understand, he is letting a glob of spit fall past his lips & it landing right on your tightest hole.

You try jerk your hips away from him but he is quicker & pulls you back to him, keeping a tighter grip on your ass, keeping it spread as his tongue begins to graze over your pretty pucker, his eyes scrunching together as he smiles against you, tongue now drawing patterns on it as he lets go of one of your ass cheeks, going down to your leaking cunt again before entering two fingers, instantly finding the same G-spot that made you orgasm only a week or so ago.

Your hips buck at the new sensation & you let out a long mewl, letting your face fall onto the back of the couch as your knuckles turn white from how hard you're clenching on it.

Your pretty hole is clenching & pulsating on his tongue as he lets out a deep growl at your taste, so different compared to your cunt but still enjoyable, you're moans getting to an even higher pitch as his tongue enter inside you, swirling around as much as the tight ring will allow.

"Hyun- please l-let me cum, s-so- fuck!" you basically scream out, not even being able to find the strength to lift your head up to look at the man behind you as your pussy & ass clench around his fingers & tongue but right before you cum, Hyunjin pulls completely away, again & your legs shake from the painful pleasure of yet another stolen orgasm.

Hyunjin leans over so his clothed chest is touching your back & he tilts your head so he can see your pretty face & he sees your now tear soaked cheeks & your pretty, glossy eyes.

"Awww, pretty girl couldn't contain their tears, could you? I promise you can cum now, I don't have a condom on me though beautiful so do you just want my fingers hmm? or my tongue?" he questions as he strokes your now damp hair out of your face, pouting at you.

"J-just fuck me Hyune, j-just pull out." you whiimper back to him, your breath so unstable it's difficult to even push the words out. Hyunjin opens his mouth to re ask you, just to make sure he is hearing things right but you wiggle your naked ass against him & he bucks his hips before just nodding before kissing your shoulder & then shimmying his pants & underwear down, freeing his pretty cock.

He spits onto his cock, pumping it into his hand a few times, letting out a hushed groan before he aligns his tip with your pussy, rubbing himself against it a few times to coat his tip in your juices before prodding his tip against your hole, before pushing just the tip inside.

"I'm still gonna be gentle, it's only your second time, tell me if this position is uncomfortable." he speaks behind you & as you mumble out an 'okay' while your face now being mushed against the cushion again, he pushes his hips forward very slowly until he buries himself to the hilt, you both letting out a moan in unison.

He stills inside you, trying to not cum instantly from how hot your walls feel without the restriction of the condom he wore last time, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he waits for your signal to continue.

Your breath staggers as he pushes forward, the stretch being a bit painful but no way near as painful as last time & after a minute or so, you push yourself on his cock experimentally, making you both hiss.

"You- please move, mak-make me cum Hyune, p-please." you elongate the last word, turning your head to the side so he can actually hear you. He takes a deep breath & pulls out half way before pushing back in, the both of you letting out a whine as his balls slap against your clit, making it even more intense for you.

Hyunjin sets a steady rhythm, lightly using the tips of his finger nails to add sensation to your back, tickling it but also feeling nice as you know it will leave those pretty little red marks later on. Both of your moans & whines fill the small apartment, not even thinking about how your neighbours can one hundred percent hear you.

"Y/n yo-you're too tight, s-so warm." he breathes out, lifting his leg & standing it on the couch for a better angle as he keeps rutting into you, leaning over your back again to kiss your cheek, your moans going straight into his ears.

"To- so big hy-hyune, pleas-e lemme c-cum." you whimper, your eyes scrunching closed, the ends of Hyunjins hair tickling your face as he begins to nibble on your earlobe, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around his cock, almost suffocating it.

"c-cum with me baby, h-hold on for me." he groan back as he tilts his neck into an uncomfortable position just so he can kiss your lips. His tongue instantly enters your mouth & you suckle on it, tasting the remaining taste of your juices from what he hasn't already repeatedly swallowed, making you moan in content.

Hyunjin speeds up his pace slightly & your G-spot loves this, making your legs almost give out on the spot as your brain turns into mush. "I-in my s-stomach Hyun-deep." you babble out against his lips, barely even knowing your own name at this point.

As Hyunjin stands back upright after giving your shoulder a few pecks, his phone begins to ring. Your eyes spot his phone on the other end of the couch, where he was sitting earlier but he reaches over & declines it before shutting his phone completely off, throwing it to the side, his pace not slowing once.

You don't bother questioning it, instead focusing on the noises of your slick & his balls connecting together mixed with the sweat of the both of you, sloppy clapping noises of your skin connecting filling the room, your legs begin to give out as Hyunjin worms his fingers down to your clit yet again before rubbing it frantically.

"In your s-stomach hmm? You can cum for me angel, n-not gonna last, too w-wet n tight." he squabbles, breathing frantically & this i all you need to hear as your entire body tenses up as finally, your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & you let out a squeal & Hyunjin has to grip onto your hips as his life depend on it in order for you to not flop & slip off the couch.

Your noises & the way your pussy flutters around him is just too much for him to handle & as much as he doesn't want to, he pulls himself out of your wet, hot walls as his cum spurts down your ass & back, throwing his head back as his cock quite literally pulsates as his balls empty, a high pitched whimper leaving his lips, breathing staggered.

He comes back to his body quicker than you do & he helps reposition you so you're fully laying on the couch, trying to make sure his cum doesn't get onto any other surface.

He grabs his underwear & wipes the cum off your back in a comfortable silence, slightly twitching as he wipes it off. He leans over your back again before kissing your earlobe. "Did so well, so proud of you, still so pretty for me despite being sticky with sweat." you both weakly laugh as you turn onto your back before using the ounce of strength you have left to pull on his wrist.

"cuddle." is all you say as you pull on him until he lays on top of you, half his weight dangling off the arm of the couch as he lays his head on your chest, listening to your still racing heartbeat & he can't help but feel secure.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both sit like this for a while, talking to one another about what you both spoke about in a bit more detail & also just talk to each other about things you don't know about one another, things like family pets, favourite colours, favourite brands etc.

Hyunjin ends up powering his phone back on & you are both just scrolling through his for you page, when you remember his phone ringing. "Quick question hyune, who was it that called you? If it was important you coulda stopped to answer." you ask him, not lifting your eyes from the video playing on his phone screen, not really thinking too much of it.

"Don't stress it, it was just someone I'm not gonna be speaking to anymore." he replies in s tired voice, still scrolling. His reply slightly confusing you. "Who? I don't mean to be nosey or anything but now i'm curious." you respond back, your fingers in his hair now pausing.

Without saying anything, he switches apps, onto his call log & it's Lisas name at the top.. nineteen missed calls. He just sighs as he presses on the 'more' option before deleting her number & deleting the Imessage conversation without even bothering to read her spam of texts, yelling, crying & cussing him out before switching apps back onto tiktok without saying a word & you just blush, your hands cupping his cheeks from above, your thumbs just below his eyes.

"You're cute." you say as you squeeze them playfully & he just 'tut's but still, he melts himself into your touch.

I'm not completely sure if I want to leave this story as a two parter orrrrrr do a third n final part but to everyone wanting a happier ending here you all are!

Tags: @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada @tsunderelino

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (1)

summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 14.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k

warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho

-> part two (wc: 15.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)

note: my not so little summer project <3 i thought i wouldn’t have the opportunity to dedicate this much time to writing again in the near future so here we are! finishing this story alone felt fulfilling but even more so that i get to share it with you. pls treat it with gentle care 🫂 reblogs and feedback r very much appreciated i love talking to you guys🥺 special thanks to my lovely rio for proofreading and being the sweetest friend :") ilyily

࿐ for those who yearn <3

—

“wait! wait for me! don’t close it yet!”

jungkook’s whole life has led up to this moment. 

from running away from his neighbor’s large snobby dogs during childhood— to participating in run for charity marathons mostly, only mostly, to appease his ex-girlfriend by being interested in her interests.

he successfully escaped from his uneventful class today by faking dizziness. half an hour later, he is racing towards one of the few places in this city where he feels something. 

his best friend’s face is still blurry given the distance, but jungkook doesn’t need to clearly see taehyung’s face to know that he is looking at him unimpressed. 

“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.

“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground. 

he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place. 

“what do you think i work here for?” 

taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”

he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease. 

unhappy faces with blank stares. 

he smiles at them cheerfully.

“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain!” 

“jungkook! sit!” 

“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung. 

“eh, more like the wind behind our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat. 

“what?”

his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying. 

the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship. 

the earth begins to move in slow motion. 

they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing. 

gone is the smile on his face. 

jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are. 

are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking? 

for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified. 

and why is his breaking too? 

your sobs and gasps for air are once more drowned out by the fear and adrenaline of the majority. nevertheless, the ache they caused in his chest stays. 

what could it be? the reason you’re crying like this at an amusement park? wouldn’t it be because you got stood up by your date?

lost in thought, he’s been unblinking. the wind blows as the speed of the boat picks up and he groans when dirt gets into his eye. he harshly rubs and rubs and he stops to check if it’s gone… he knows it’s gone because now he can see clearly— one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes upon.

the wind blows into your hair and it finally grants him a good view of your face. red, swollen eyes and mascara running. you wipe your tears away, distant eyes falling on your lap, and you take a sharp inhale. you’re a tragedy and so gorgeous still that the aching of his heart doubles due to its intensified pounding. 

there’s no way… he debunks his theory. there’s no way a man could ever waste the opportunity of going on a date with you. only a fool. 

slow motion comes to a full stop.

shit, shit, shit. 

why can’t he look away? 

you’ve made eye-contact and you’re not breaking it. 

he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.

“huh?”

the ringing of the bell snaps him out of… whatever that experience was. he looks around and it is revealed to him that the ship has returned to its neutral position. passengers are already hopping off, including you.

wait, including you… 

when did you get a cap?!

“fuck!” he curses, kicking his feet in annoyance.

he then proceeds to break the promise he swore to himself: never run after a girl again. 

“yah, jungkook! where are you going?! you need to clock in!”

taehyung releases yet another sigh as he loses his best friend among the crowd. nearly at the same time, he hears a thud that originates from the control booth. he blankly stares at the backpack that mysteriously fell off the chair. 

“does he have snacks in here at least?”

—

blue tube top and black baseball cap worn backwards. blue top and black cap. blue top and black cap. jungkook chants in his head like a maniac as he navigates the grounds, trying his best not to lose sight of your back. sweat has started to form as beads on his forehead. he squeezes one eye shut, wary of the sting, before wiping them away with the back of his hand. 

he ran with all his might, but now that you’re almost within reach, he’s suddenly nervous.

“miss- miss! you dropped this!” 

you turn around abruptly so his fingers end up only grazing your arm. the first thing he notices is your knitted eyebrows. he doesn’t know whether it mostly indicates annoyance or confusion. 

you merely glance at the handkerchief on his open palm. “it’s not mine.” 

you walk away from him and you are a magnet he is curiously drawn to. 

he stands in front of you, sweaty and stuttering like a student introducing himself to a class for the very first time. 

“but are you okay? i-i couldn’t help but to notice that you were cry- uh, uhm… you-you seem to  have troubles.” 

he clears his throat, turning his cheek for a second as to avoid melting under your intense gaze. he marvels at your beauty but he can’t pull himself together to admire it from a close distance. 

“sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m just concerned.” 

seconds pass and he doesn’t receive any sort of answer. no affirmative nod; not even a roll of the eyes. you stare at his face blankly as your feet become rooted into the ground. strands of your hair dance with gusts of the wind. it could be a haunting sight. your glossy eyes are reminiscent of deep, turbulent waters. there was a twinge of doubt on the accuracy of his words before, however, it now seems to ring true. 

could it really be because of a boy?

a bicycle enters his line of vision. 

a little too close not to cause an accident. 

“move!” he yells out the warning, but he still takes matters into his own hands by pushing you over to the side and using his own body as a shield. 

the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible. 

jungkook’s nostrils flare. “kid, that’s not allowed in here! where did you come from?!” 

the security guard running after the rule-breaker moves past him, but not before hitting his back with the baton. 

“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”

“yah! what was that for?!” 

he scoffs, glaring towards the direction of the intruder and his co-staff, who has an entirely different job from him. why didn’t he stop him?! 

while he was distracted by the commotion, he was also unaware that you managed to swipe the handkerchief loosely hanging from his grip around your arm. 

his angry expression softens. 

you wipe away your tears that are freely flowing against your will. earlier, you were sobbing. right now, your face is devoid of any expression. he can’t decide which is more heartbreaking.

“are you okay?” he carries on to ask again despite the both of you knowing the answer, but he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

“i’m okay,” you say. “thanks for finding my handkerchief… and for saving me from the- the, yeah…” 

you’re about to walk out of his life until his mouth blurts out- “wait! take this!” 

he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. you blink at the small packet of sour gummies on his open palm and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. 

even he thinks this is ridiculous. he had a handkerchief in the left pocket of his jacket and now it’s yours. he had gummy worms in the right and for some reason he also wants you to have it.

“why?”

he has the same question.

“just because…”

no, that won’t do it.

“maybe it could make you feel better.”

oh my god.

“if you decide to ride the spinning top… it helps when you’re nauseated.”

still with the unreadable expression, you probe no further and accept his edible remedy. 

“thank you.” you politely bow before taking your leave.

he doesn’t run after you this time. after all, his pockets are empty. 

meeting you— this is probably the first and last time. 

he exhales through his mouth. disappointed. he turns around and tries to look for you again. 

blue top and black cap… 

there you are. 

leaving- 

wait. 

the spark of hope quickly fizzles out. you pull your hand out of your pocket, tossing something into one of the trash bins. he’s too far away to identify the item, but it couldn’t be… right?

he huffs in sheer disbelief.

“huh, she’s pretty and rude.” 

—

if he’s being honest, jungkook doesn’t like this job much. graphic design is there, and it’s been a pretty sweet gig especially when he’s desperate for extra cash. anyway, taehyung got this job first, which took away time from their regular hangouts, so he would often visit his best friend during his free periods at the university. long story short, one of the managers scolded them both for playing around throughout taehyung’s shift, and as a punishment, she employed jungkook.  

she is the reason why he is spending his sunday morning putting on strangers’ seatbelts and lap bars so they won’t fall off the rollercoaster and die. he was trained to double-check everything, but he is a bit more paranoid about lawsuits than the management, so despite the extra waiting time some passengers aren’t happy about, he makes that triple. 

as fast as he can, while maintaining meticulousness, he does his final round of checking. so far, everyone is safely strapped to their seats. until he reaches the last row and finds the only person there with their lap bar unlocked. how did he miss that? 

“ma’am, your lap bar isn’t secured. do you mind if i-”

the woman shakes her head without a word. as he gets to work, his eyes can’t help but to stray. most of her face is hidden by a face mask and sunglasses. it’s kind of funny because it’s actually been a gloomy day. 

“ah, there you go. safe and sound!” 

“thanks,”

he flashes her a bright smile. the last and apparently most important employee rule.  

“you’re welcome!” 

—

 

“why aren’t you eating?” taehyung asks with a mouthful of corndog. 

jungkook lifts his head up from the table, sends him a glare, then drops it again. he didn’t get much sleep last night studying for their upcoming tests. he’d much rather spend his whole lunch break with his eyes closed. he’d go as far as saying that moving his jaw to chew food sounds like exerting too much energy and he couldn’t be bothered.

“change shifts with me. i fucking hate sundays.” 

“depends…” taehyung pretends to be in deep thought. “will you buy me a meal everyday until our shifts rotate again?”

“do you want to die?” 

“no, but it looks like you will before me.” 

jungkook yawns, sleepy tears flowing down his temple. “you might be right…”

“were you up all night thinking of that girl?” 

“huh? no.”

“you’re lying.”

“shut up,” he groans, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. 

so a beautiful stranger has been plaguing his mind. big deal! happens to the best of us. 

taehyung cackles at his demise, thoroughly amused. “why? didn’t she throw away your gift?” 

“it wasn’t a gift.” he argues. “and i know, she’s exactly my type.” 

“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”

“i know that too,” he calmly replies. “i kind of miss her.” 

“at least it’s not your ex anymore, i guess.” taehyung mutters before obnoxiously sipping on his strawberry lemonade. “want to sneak into the security camera room? i’m curious. i want to see her.”

“can’t you just let me sleep?!” 

“wow, you’re so grumpy today.” 

took him long enough to deduce.

“then should we go after your nap?” 

“i need to work!” jungkook snaps. he straightens his back, rubbing his face in frustration. “go- go do whatever you want!”

taehyung’s chewing slows down, appearing almost scared at his best friend’s outburst, but everything is a game with the two of them. “but i don’t know what she looks like.” 

jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“okay, fine!” 

in a state of exaggerated panic, taehyung gathers his things in one clean sweep, cradling them in his arms. 

“i’m leaving!” he dashes out of the break room as if he’s running for his life. 

jungkook huffs out a laugh at the comedic scene. as soon as his smile drops, so does his head. 

—

 

it’s past midnight, which means it’s already friday. jungkook has been glued to the computer for the past three hours, working on a brochure he was commissioned to make. this task would go along smoothly if only his client didn’t have such a long list of demands, but alas, he is desperate for a good review after his past client’s four paragraph-long criticism. a boomer’s opinions hardly matter to him, but he knows how a single bad review alone can negatively affect reputation. 

one thing’s for sure, everyone’s making it hard for him to fucking quit energy drinks. 

he tosses the empty can into the trash bin beside his desk. away with his anti-radiation glasses, too. it lands in an awkward position over his keyboard. he couldn’t care less. everything hurts. 

he keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his fingers, neck, and back with strained moans and grunts. the sweet relief causes him to slump lazily on his chair. at that moment, an internal battle starts. should he do the responsible thing and continue working? or should he just say fuck it and go to bed? 

“no but seriously! why would she throw them away?!” 

completely unrelated. 

a thousand miles away from the topic at hand. 

“jungkook!” taehyung growls from the bed, furiously pressing at the buttons of the controller. “it’s been two weeks! when are you going to move on?” 

jungkook spins the chair to face him with a deadpan expression. the ps5 hogger is too focused on the television screen to even notice. 

“you wouldn’t expect it but those aren’t cheap.”

“then maybe you shouldn’t have given it away to a stranger.” taehyung shrugs. “but that’s just me.” 

“that was out of my control.” jungkook defends. “you should’ve seen her.” 

“well, you wouldn’t let me.” taehyung mumbles, but he obviously wanted him to hear. “no thanks. crying at the amusement park? she’s got to have some real issues.” 

“so what? we all got issues.” 

“not me,” he sends jungkook a smirk. “if i don’t acknowledge them, they’re not there.” 

“and that, my friend…” jungkook has decided to retire from his work area tonight. he pats taehyung’s shoulder as a display of faux sympathy. “is your biggest issue.” 

wearing a childish grin, he grabs the other controller from the floor.

“now, shall we rank up?” 

—

 

it’s been a few days since summer vacation started. he normally comes home to busan during the school breaks for a temporary taste of childhood bliss. he spends the entire day watching television, eating home-cooked meals, and not thinking about requirements at all.

too bad his vacation is suspended due to his adult responsibilities. 

at least that’s the excuse he used. 

his family has been staying with relatives for the past month because their home is currently under renovation. and well, jungkook’s dorm is suffocating enough on his own. staying under one roof with nine other people? hard. pass.

he may or may not be regretting that decision now, however. all of a sudden, coming home from work with a bag full of ramyeon and beer feels too depressing. even more so that he has no one to share them with. all of his friends have gone home. taehyung, too. he found someone who could temporarily fill in his place and did not think twice about leaving jungkook behind. he can’t blame him.

jungkook enters the apartment building. as always, quiet and dim. he gets that the owner is trying to save money, but isn’t it a bit too early to start turning off the lights? he rolls his eyes despite the lack of a witness. 

they are very lucky that he has grown somewhat fond of this place.

jungkook allows himself to be roped in by the only source of warm light in the lobby. he finds himself incredibly silly for being entertained by goldfishes swimming around in an aquarium, but after a hectic day, this is where his brain cools down. 

“hello everyone,” he coos at them.

do fishes even react to baby talk? he wouldn’t know. the only pet that lasted him years and is still alive is their family dog, gureum. 

“how was your day? i hope it was better than mine.” 

—

 

on the other side of the aquarium stands you, watching a boy talk to the fishes while he is blissfully unaware of your presence. an endeared smile graces your face unbeknownst to you. 

eventually, there arrives a moment when most of the fishes favor a certain side and they clear out before his eyes. 

that is when he finally notices you. 

your heart begins to race, but he appears to be more shocked than you are. you stand up straight nearly at the same time. 

despite the dark, they’re impossible to miss. his breathtaking eyes— which were filled with pure wonder and adoration only seconds ago— growing in size as soon as they saw yours. 

“i know you…” 

a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over your head. 

“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”

and while you do not appreciate the rather ungentlemanly pointing of finger, you’re glad to be able to breathe out a sigh of relief. 

well, and there’s also the crippling shame.

you didn’t want your first impression on anyone to be the most pitiful version of yourself. 

it’s been over a month for fuck’s sake. how does he remember your face so well?

“wow,” he gapes. “you changed your hair.”

you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious. 

is that a good thing or a bad thing? 

it’s your first time changing your hair color; plus, the last time you had bangs was in middle school. it’s been weeks since you had the big transformation, but you’re not quite sure how you feel about it yet. 

“yeah, light pink…” 

“it suits you well.” 

“thanks,” is all you manage to respond with. 

a gust of awkward silence passes by. there’s the instinct to run away— knocking at your brain, pulling at your limbs. but you can’t think of an excuse. your feet won’t move… eventually you stop minding that. the goldfishes are too beautiful to look away from. they work as the perfect distraction from the other soul standing across. 

“so, um- i’ve never seen you around here.”

“i moved in today.”

“oh, i see… that makes sense.” 

you hum to fill the quietness that follows, thinking of what else you could say, but he beats you to it.

“i live at the 13th floor.“ 

what did he say? do you live on the same floor? that’s impossible.

“how about you?” 

“hm, 10!” 

you blurt out the first number that pops into your mind. you quickly pretend like you’re not freaking out inside by shifting the topic.

“do they-” you gesture to the aquarium. “do they have names?”

“names?” 

the random question seems to catch him off guard.

“none that i’m aware of.” he shakes his head. “i don’t think so- no.”

“oh…” your shoulders sag in disappointment. “that’s sad.”

but then again, you should’ve lowered your expectations and reminded yourself where you are. they were not bought as pets. they were bought for display. 

—

 

the last time jungkook saw you was over a month ago. maybe your face is a tad different because you’re not crying. the new color of your hair compliments you in a way unlike before’s yet just as beautiful. the bangs make much of the difference too. he doesn’t know how old you are, but you look younger somehow. from his point-of-view, he could say that much has changed. but not the melancholia. 

he watches you gaze into the aquarium in fascination; the lights reflect on your eyes as little twinkling stars. you’re not crying, but why can he still feel your sadness? 

he once told taehyung that if you meet again, he’d give you hell for throwing his sour gummies away. 

funny enough, that plan went out the window the second he laid his eyes on you again. 

“do you want to feed them?” he offers. 

“i already did.”

“you did?”

“i did,” you look up at him innocently, nodding. “i asked the guard.”

“aish, he didn’t tell me.” he throws his arms up with a groan. “i almost overfed them.”

you perk up with interest. “do you always feed them?” 

“when i come home from work.”

“that’s nice…” 

the soft smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t know it yet. 

“sorry, um-” you begin smoothing out your clothes, also tucking your hair behind your ears. “i need to get to work. it was nice meeting you.”

“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”

“graveyard shift,” you simply answer. 

pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind. 

“but it’s dangerous to be roaming around here at this time.” 

his radar doesn’t detect crimes being reported around the neighborhood, but with the majority of the building’s occupants being young adults, the streets are often littered with drunkards who have many things to be angry about.

“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”

he hasn’t known you long, but this is the most enthusiastic he has seen you. your face lit up as soon as you mentioned your mode of transportation.

however, he is a tiny bit confused.

it shows on his face, apparently.

“the motor kind,” you clarify. 

“ah, the motor kind-” he claps once as soon as the realization dawns on him. he chuckles to himself. “of course!” 

it was important for you to clarify, jungkook concludes from your tone. the fact that you own a bike is sexy, but you look adorable right now and it is so amusing to him. 

“anyway, i need to go. it was nice to meet you!” 

your heels click against the floor as you head towards the same door he walked in from.

“see you around!” he yells, still wearing a wide grin. 

he remains standing there even though you’re already gone from sight. 

hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.

“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”

—

 

jungkook’s misery has been pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by an overwhelming giddiness that causes him to drop everything on the floor and jump on his bed. he buries his head into the pillow, but it does nothing to erase the happy grin that’s threatening to make his cheeks sore.

what a small world, huh? 

what is this if not fate?

he flips over and stares at the ceiling as if it’s the starry night sky.

this might just become the best summer of his life. 

—

jungkook comes out fresh from the shower clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. he hangs the towel he was drying his hair with over his nape, heading to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. he rips the lid of the cup ramyeon halfway, and as he pours hot water into it from the electric kettle, your face appears on his mind again. 

wait, there’s something wrong…

he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to figure out what it is he forgot.

“ah, i’m so stupid!”

he totally forgot to ask your name! 

“shit!” he shouts in higher volume when he realizes that the water has overflowed and is now dripping to the floor. 

he puts the kettle down, taking a few steps back from the mess he made. praise heavens the water wasn’t hot enough for his toes to suffer anything more than a first-degree burn. 

he starts to look around for anything he can wipe the floor with, his tongue poking his inner cheek. 

“still having a bad day.” 

—

but a bad day isn’t enough to break down jungkook’s spirit. he knows there will always come a tomorrow, so he seizes that tomorrow and comes home from work as fast as he can. there’s a big chance that you leave for work around the same time, right? 

so he sits down on the sofa facing the aquarium, and he waits. 

his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.

he taps his foot on the floor.

he checks tomorrow’s weather forecast on the app. clear skies. no chance of rain. high humidity levels.

he goes through the magazines laid out on the coffee table. he learns five ways to get over heartbreak. according to the quiz, he has a sweet and passionate personality based on the flavor of his lip balm. he thinks it’s pretty accurate. strawberry, he strokes his non-existent beard. could never go wrong with it.

next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve. 

he can no longer control his excessive yawning but his stomach is just screaming for the pack of jjajangmyeon in his cupboard. 

he presses the elevator button with a tight-lipped smile. he’s disappointed that he didn’t see you at all today, but he was raised to have a positive outlook in life. you live in the same building. you have to run into each other again one of these days. 

—

what does jungkook hate more than normal sundays? sundays when he didn’t get enough sleep. 

for some reason, he’s still tragically stuck with working on the worst day of the week despite his repeated objections. the only upside to this particular sunday is that he is assigned to the ferris wheel. in exchange for thrice the amount of his daily wage in discreet tips, what happens in some of those cabins are none of his business. 

if he ends up getting reassigned, he would be pretty fucking pissed off. 

he’s restless as the elevator descends to the ground floor. he’s munching on a protein bar, jogging in place as to warm up his body for a race to the bus stop. 

he can’t be the one manning the bump cars. bump cars are the worst. those kids hit you on purpose, he swears. 

the elevator dings and he runs.

until an eye-catching color forces him to pull the brakes. his sneakers squeak against the tiled floor. 

your back may be facing him, but he can recognize you from that cotton candy hair even from a mile away. you’re right where he was hoping you’d be last night, conversing with one of the janitors. this really isn’t the best time for your paths to cross again, given the reasons he was just grouching about, but his feet refuse to move. 

you go on your tiptoes to sprinkle fish feed into the aquarium. you’re so adorable in your pajamas; you’re almost drowning in the black and white checkered cloth. are those yours in the first place?

“everything you need to know is written here… how much- how often you should feed them depending on the seasons, depending on how big they’ve gotten… jungkook worked really hard in researching. impressive, don’t you think?”

“i see…” he is finally granted his wish to hear your soft voice. “but why don’t they have names?”

the janitor scratches his head at your question. “they look too alike to have names.” 

“hello! i heard my name!” jungkook pops in without a warning, causing mister park to flinch and slap a hand over his chest in shock. 

“jungkook! i’m 71 years old! you could’ve killed me!” 

“oh, that’s right-” he gasps. “grandpa, i’m sorry!”

jungkook attacks him with a bear hug, playfully rocking their bodies back and forth hoping that would calm down his vulnerable heart. for a brief moment, he feels like a child again. 

“this is jungkook.” 

the introduction was already made for him. that’s one less thing he has to overthink. 

“____ here wants to feed the fishes every morning from now on. i told her it’s perfectly alright with me.” the janitor laughs. “with my age, you know how forgetful i’ve become.” 

“really?” he breaks away, surprised by what he just learned. “that’s so nice!” 

“it’s nothing. i’m happy to do it.” you smile and make eye-contact with him, but you soon break it, opting to glance at the aquarium. 

you must like fishes a lot. he only felt bad for them because the janitor on night shift doesn’t give a single fuck about them; that’s why he did all that research hoping it would help with committing to the responsibility, which jungkook ended up shouldering in the end anyway. but you… you’ve been here for what? two? three days? 

“tell you what…” he brings out the pen he keeps in the side pocket of his backpack. “this- this is my phone number. if you need anything, or incase you need someone else to feed them, contact me!” 

he scribbles down his phone number on the notepad grandpa was showing you before his rude interruption. 

“by the way, my unit is 1311. you can also just-” he knocks on the thin air, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound. “knock on my door.” 

jungkook’s watch beeps twice everyday, once at 8:50am and then at 11pm sharp. the sun is burning bright and his shift starts at 9am. yes, he is nervous infront of a girl who is drop-dead gorgeous, but he should also be very much nervous about the (unfair) deduction from his measly salary. 

“okay, i need to run to work! goodbye!” 

—

so, his name is jungkook…

you crane your head to watch him rush out of the building. the uncomfortable sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor makes you grimace. 

the page he wrote his number on is ripped off from the notepad and handed to you. 

“he’s a good kid.”

you force yourself to smile, and it slowly fades as you tilt down your chin and stare at the string of numbers in blue ink.

long after the janitor has left to fulfill his long list of tasks, you remain standing by the aquarium. 

“you do have someone taking good care of you.” you whisper to the clueless fishes, caressing the glass. a genuine smile appears when two of them swim towards you, beady eyes trying to make sense of the stranger loitering around their homey cage. “you can breathe well and you’re warm in the winter. that’s a relief.” 

after feeding them, next on the agenda is to cook your own breakfast. you head for the elevator, tossing the crumpled up paper into the trash bin before pressing the arrow pointing towards north. 

—

“hyung…”

“why?” 

jungkook sighs. “can you text me?” 

“text you what?” seokjin’s forehead creases in confusion. 

“anything. i just need to make sure my phone still works.” 

thursday has been a slow day at the amusement park despite the school vacation and no one has tried to win a teddy bear since the place opened. seokjin is more than happy to spend his free time playing games on his phone in his own little corner at the amusement park. 

well, that was before jungkook got bored at the ping pong toss booth and decided to hang out at the other side of the wall. 

he shrugs and texts his younger friend the word ‘anything’ just to get him off his back. he goes back to playing his game, not curious enough to interrogate him with additional questions. 

jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume. 

“it does work!” he yells in exasperation, flopping down at his seat. “why hasn’t she texted me?”

“you were whining about the same thing the other day.” seokjin muses as his car crosses the finish line. second place. “you fool, just text her first.”

“i don’t have her number.”

“what do you mean you don’t have her number?”

“i gave her mine.” jungkook says quietly. “we live in the same building and i told her to contact me if she needs anything.”

“then i guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t need anything from you.” 

“seriously, why can’t i have friends that are nice to me?!” 

seokjin bursts out laughing, definitely not a stranger to jungkook and taehyung’s bickering at the break room. 

“you did this one to yourself! jungkook, flirt better!” 

“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts. 

you make him nervous. his brain goes blank when you’re around. in addition to that, he doesn’t know what you’re going through and he’s scared that you’d end up pushing him away if he oversteps. 

“i gave her candy when we first met and she threw them away.” 

“oh, that’s right,” seokjin loads a new game, snorting. “taehyung told me about that.” 

jungkook’s jaw drops. “is he backstabbing me?”

—

jungkook enters the break room with yet another item from the lost-and-found. it’s been over two weeks since he found this orange beanie on the ground. must’ve fallen from the rollercoaster, that’s his best guess. 

since no one has claimed it— “finders keepers,” he grins as he stuffs it into his backpack. 

“thief,” seokjin jokingly accuses him from the other side of the table. “that’s how you were raised?”

“says the one who took the sony headphones yesterday.” 

“i won it fair and square!” 

he’d argue with the older man again, but his phone vibrating has stolen his full attention. he is hit with disappointment at the same moment that he snatches it from the table. it’s his mom, again, asking him when he’s coming home. 

“you need to stop doing that. it’s getting sad.”

he sighs, hugging his backpack to hide his pitiful face. “i am sad.” 

—

his walks home from the bus stop have always been a period for reflection and pondering. the streets of seoul are scattered with his indecision, worries, and anger. since his mother has been asking him for months, should he just go home and endure their living situation? maybe it’s better to be annoyed with the presence of people instead of being blue with a lack thereof. 

so much for being independent. he spent most of high school anticipating the day he gets to move out, now he wants nothing but to go home. he can’t help but to think that life is but a vicious cycle of wanting and losing. 

too lost in thought, he fails to realize right away that he has entered his apartment building’s vicinity. it’s the smell of cigarette smoke that brings him back to reality. the alley is dark, but he can make out the silhouette of a figure crouched down on the ground. assuming that it’s one of the guards hiding to smoke, he soundlessly enters the confined space with mischief up his sleeve. 

when he gets close enough, the first thing he sees is the tip of the cigarette still burning red as the smoker takes a puff.

a car with blinding headlights zooms past.

it becomes unmistakable then— the identity of the person ten feet away from him. 

there’s no one around here with same hair color. 

none that he knows of anyway. 

he is motionless; clueless as to what he should do. he should probably turn his back and leave. pretend this never happened. he never saw anything. 

he can’t even be hung up on the fact that you smoke. if he thinks back on his past experiences with dating, this would’ve been a turn-off, but he loses the ability to care. the smoke in his lungs is negligible when your wounded sobs are breaking his heart. it’s ridiculous that the urge to also cry is spreading fast in his system, but he had a long day and he feels really fucking shitty. 

you were going to notice his presence eventually. 

he doesn’t know what he was expecting. 

you lift your head, and eye-contact is made. none of you chooses to speak a word. 

you’re as beautiful as the day he first met you.

you stand on your feet and you step on the cigarette, on the emotional connection he swore you had, crushing it under the weight of your boot. 

he blinks away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. he should say something; offer an apology for intruding on a vulnerable moment, but you walk past him before he could form the words, shoulder harshly bumping against him. 

could have it been on purpose? 

“____!” he says your name for the first time, for what sounds like a plea. he follows you home like a lost puppy. “i’m sorry, i-i wasn’t… i thought you were another person… are you okay?”

“what do you think?” you spit out. the delicate voice he knows isn’t there, gone harsh and hoarse. 

“is there anything i can do?”

no response. 

he tries again. “anything at all?” 

“oh my god, can’t you take a hint? leave me alone!” 

your sudden outburst sends him stumbling backwards, the sensation of your hands on his chest still lingering despite the distance that was forcefully created between the two of you. 

“i don’t know you! stay away from me!” 

your infuriated voice echoes throughout the lobby. he is shocked. dumbfounded. his eyes, out of focus, seek your face, and he finds you heaving with tearful eyes. 

he makes an attempt to speak, something to defend himself with, but in the end, he still says, “i’m sorry.” 

a woman walks out of the elevator, and you immediately enter without looking back. jungkook remains standing where he is, with strangers’ eyes on him as if he has committed a grave crime.

—

you slam the door shut, hand still covering your mouth shut despite no one being around to hear your cries. you don’t bother turning on the lights. your shoulder bag falls somewhere on the floor and you collapse on the bed, still in your jeans and your heels hanging off your feet. 

nothing matters anymore.

you’re suffering the punishment of somebody else’s crime. you’ve been casted out, stripped away of your dreams and your dignity. your life is over and you’ve accepted that, but maybe you haven’t. all is unfair. you’re so fucking angry but you’re too tired to feel it. and you’re alone. so alone. no one is on your side and it’s not fair. 

you try to scream out, anything to release your pent-up rage, but it doesn’t happen. apparently, that’s what happens when enough people tell you to bite your tongue raw. 

they say we curl up into the fetal position as a natural response to stress and anxiety because it mimics the sense of security we had when we were in our mother’s womb. the way you see it, your body will always be yours and it is the only one that you need.

so you curl up and you put your arms around yourself. you pat your own back until your wrist falls limp from exhaustion, and you keep your eyes closed until you fall into a deep sleep.  

you pray to god that you never wake up.

—

you fail to achieve peace even in your dreams. in what is supposedly an imaginary land, you were being chased by faceless agitators with torches and pitchforks. you were crying and screaming, running on bare and bloody feet, tripping on branches and the stones they were throwing. 

you open your eyes to darkness.

just as you predicted; nobody listens. 

you feel nothing anymore and you hope it stays that way. if you can’t escape it, then perhaps, you can be desensitized to its horrors. 

you force yourself to sit up on the bed, spending an unknown length of time staring into the void. 

the first coherent thought formed in your head… no, not a thought… a person. 

your bare feet brave the cold floor. the switch of the desk lamp is flicked as you sit at your desk. you grab a pen to write something on the free space of your opened journal pages. 

under those numbers, you note down the name of the owner in cursive.

—

after the shitshow that transpired earlier, sleep became impossible for jungkook. 

he doesn’t quite understand how he feels about you. however, it’s currently clear that there’s a part of him that’s pissed off. you made yourself very clear. he should maintain distance from now on. that’s the sensible, respectable thing to do. at this point, attempts at initiating any form of relationship with you appear to be futile. you’re a stranger to him, as you emphasized. this shouldn’t be as complicated as it is in his head… but fuck, the memories of your tear-stained face is corrupting his ability to rationalize.

it’s 2:33am. he’s been playing the guitar infront of the camera for an hour and a half already. the comment section is flooded by sleep-deprived people like him, sending song requests and questions about his personal life. 

yes, he’s about to be in third year college. 

no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 

no, he can’t mention where he lives… but sure, he can sing ‘beautiful’ by crush. 

“what do you mean? i just finished playing it ten seconds ago!” he squints as he scrolls through the new wave of comments. “sorry, art commissions are still closed. i’m behind on my workload… no, i’m not sleepy! don’t send me to bed yet… knees by iu? i love that song. should i play that next?”

his phone vibrates with a new text message, nearly causing it to fall from the stack of books he set it up on. 

“oh- what was tha- what do i do? wait, everyone. i need to check on something!”

the live is temporarily put on pause. 

“who is this?”

his eyebrows knit in confusion when he is greeted by an unregistered phone number.

  2:45am

hi, jungkook. this is ____. i wanted to apologize for my behavior at the lobby earlier. i understand you were only concerned. i’m so sorry. i’d love to buy you coffee some time to make it up to you, if that’s ok. 

this is real, right? he’s awake. he’s not hallucinating. the text message indicates your name and it says that you’d love to buy him coffee some time. 

a gasp leaves his mouth, his hand flying up to seal his lips. 

you texted him. you finally texted him.

he was starting to get convinced that you also threw away his number, but you didn’t! 

he weakly sets down the phone, brain still processing the message you sent. does this make sense?

“i shouldn’t reply right away… maybe in the morning…” he nods to affirm myself. “that’s right.” 

he begins chuckling out of nowhere. soon enough, those chuckles become chortles. he must be going insane. he picks up the phone and reads the message again. 

“she sounds pretty even in chat. how is that possible?” he spins on his chair, so carefree. “but honestly, is one coffee enough for what she did?” 

he shakes his head with a click his tongue. 

“i don’t think so…”

hold on…

it feels like he’s forgetting something…

“ah, the live!” he jumps on his seat in panic. 

he swipes out of the text message to go back to the app where he abandoned his thousand viewers.

“sorry, i made money.” he mumbles to himself. “i should end it now.” 

—

his mood has done a 180. his routine consists of feeding the fishes dinner, and then himself, but he decided to skip the second part earlier for reasons that he has forgotten by now. 

his stomach growls at his selfish decision. 

given the time, he considered food delivery, but the fee made him exit the app immediately. he hasn’t gone to the grocery store as of recent either. the fridge has been wasting electricity, but his pride won’t let him turn it off. 

how did people live without convenience stores before? that is what jungkook marvels about as he crosses the long hallway to reach the elevator. 

a door ahead opens, and he would ignore it if not for one of the two people who comes out from the other side of it. 

there is a man in his late 20’s, and then there is… you. 

you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights. 

—

the coffee you originally offered jungkook has turned into a full meal. when you arrived at the convenience store, he knew what he wanted right away. he grabbed the biggest cup of ramyeon and tteokbokki, an egg, sausage, and cheese. he refused to let you pay for them at first, but there was nothing left to do after you handed the cashier the money. 

the action was done out of obligation rather than will, but seeing how much he’s enjoying the food, you’re a little less displeased with the circumstances. 

“is that all you’re eating? we can share mine.” 

“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.” 

with the money you had left, you were able to afford a roll of gimbap. maybe it’s not enough to make you full, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. you slowly chew the food in your mouth, an effort to hide your smile as you discretely observe jungkook devour his rabokki. 

“the man from earlier, is he your brother?”

your chewing is put on pause. “how did you know?” 

“how? it’s easy!” 

he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks. 

“you have the exact same nose.” 

“ugh,” you grimace. “i’m tired of hearing that.” 

your list of similarities ends there. he’s the golden child and you’re the black sheep. if your parents find out that he comes to visit you and he sends you money, they’d only see you in worse light.

“i know,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i have an older brother too.” 

cute. 

“so… why did you lie?”

he’s seriously asking you like this? so casually?

you awkwardly set down your food on the table and you take your time sipping at your coffee to buy yourself some time.

—

“i was embarrassed with what happened before… me crying at the boat and everything…”

you’re having a hard time looking at jungkook in the eye. sensing your discomfort, he wants to punch himself for being so careless with his tone. until moments before, he felt too offended to consider the fact that you never owed him an explanation. 

“you don’t have to be. it’s okay.” he reassures you. “we all have bad days.”

it doesn’t work the way that he thought it would. when you start laughing, he is lost. 

“did i say something funny?” he chuckles along nervously. 

“that quote, ‘it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.’” 

“yeah?” 

“it’s the opposite for me. it’s not just a bad day; it’s a bad life.”  

you speak with such endearing humor and it works like a charm in making the atmosphere lighter. he’d pass it off as a self-deprecating joke, but based on your few yet impactful encounters so far, he doesn’t think you’re stretching the truth far. if he’s being honest, if your first meeting happened differently, he’d assume that you’re living a perfectly comfortable life based on your appearance alone.

“even now, i’m too embarrassed to show my face to you. but we’re neighbors, so i’ll try to get over it.”

“tell you what, let’s start with a clean slate.” he eagerly makes a proposal. “you can erase all the embarrassing memories of you from my brain.”

“h-how do i do that?” 

“flick my forehead!”

you blink, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of what he said. “i was expecting some sort of stupid hypnosis.”

“or that,” he switches up, slapping the table as if you just came up with something revolutionary. 

why did he say flick his forehead anyway? he knows you gotta have an overwhelming amount of pent-up emotions. you could go deku on him and blow his head off. 

“let’s do that!”

“no, i like it.” you almost interrupt him. “i’ll flick your forehead.” 

but he did suggest it… and you act so gentle and sophisticated. he doubts that you would make it hurt. 

“here i go!”

he gets his bangs out of the way. “okay!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. “please have mercy.” 

son of a bitch. that hurt. 

“ow!” he rubs the affected area, face twisting in pain. his eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “you didn’t hold back, huh?!” 

you smile at him sweetly. “did it work?”

  —

“you fed them, right?”

“of course i did. you?”

“yes, this morning.”

“okay, that’s good.”

you and jungkook sit in silence after that, eyes twinkling with wonder as they follow the stunning movements of the goldfishes. 

deep inside, he’s feeling restless. you make him nervous, and he’s also nervous about you noticing that he’s nervous. it’s been a tireless cycle. 

he sneaks a glance at you.

perhaps he’s overthinking again. it seems like you don’t even care that he’s less than an arm’s length from you. 

he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. 

he sighs without a sound, comfortably leaning all of his weight on the couch. 

“it’s called the dreamboat.”

“what is?” 

the boat you cried in— can’t say that. you might flick his forehead again. 

“at the amusement park.” 

“oh…”

it falls silent. 

jungkook is thankful when you have a follow-up question because he hasn’t thought of a new topic yet. 

“i wonder why they called it that.”

“oh, because the owner’s daughter loves boats!” he shares one of the few fun facts he learned over the past year. “that’s why it was designed like it came from a fairy tale too.” 

a mirthful smile forms on your face “my guess was too far off.” 

“what was it?” 

“mhmm,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest. “dreamboat is a word used to describe a handsome man, right?”

jungkook nods his head like he knew that all along. no, he didn’t. 

“so i imagined the owner met their handsome partner on a boat- no, or a ship,” the epiphany hits you in the middle of your sentence. “they have to be rich since they built an amusement park.”

a romantic. you imagined a love story based on a word alone. jungkook’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to tame his wide grin. 

“that does sound like a good theory.” he casually bends over, resting his elbows over his spread thighs. “i think i like it better than the truth.”

“how did you know that though? the truth?”

he shrugs. “i work there.”

“you work there?” your voice goes up a pitch. “i didn’t know…”

“you? do you study or work?”

“call center,” you answer to get it over with. to his surprise, your body language shifts and you’re now facing him. “what’s it like working there? is it fun?” 

apparently, a job at the amusement park is now joining his very short list of your interests: after motorbikes, smoking, and fishes.

“it has good days and bad days…” he trails off. he hasn’t truly given this much thought, so he’s also learning about himself. “but i didn’t expect it to be as fun as it is. sometimes it’s boring, but when it’s fun, it’s really fun.”

you scoot closer. “do you get to ride for free?”

ah, yes, the deciding factor when he was offered the job. 

“there’s an employee discount, actually! but i do it for free anyway…” he shyly scratches his head. “don’t tell anyone i said that.” 

“i don’t have anyone to tell.” 

his heart skips a beat when he hears your laugh genuinely for the first time. quiet and delicate and airy— you grace this blue summer night like a spring breeze that takes away with it everything that burdens your mind and heart. 

once again, the aquarium becomes the most interesting collection of atoms in the building. as for him, he is still unable to keep his eyes off you. 

“did you have a pet fish growing up? you really like them a lot.”

“no,” you reply. “i didn’t care about them until now.”

“really?” his eyes grow wide. “wow, i seriously thought you were a marine life enthusiast, or something like that.” 

you give him a look. “i thought you were a marine life enthusiast.”

“we were both wrong.” he shrugs. “but what made you care about them so much now?”

“i don’t know. i just thought of something when i was looking at them.” 

he feels your hesitance to continue. your eyes connect briefly and he communicates that he’s listening with an open mind.

“they’re different from other pets, you know, like cats and dogs. they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.” 

in the dark room, he sees the melancholy seeping from the cracked edges of you. although you act relaxed, your spoken thoughts paint the picture of a person whose sensitivity and sympathy touch upon everything. 

“there should at least be somebody who cares enough to check up on them and make sure that they’re alive and well.” 

“…and you wanted to be that somebody for them.” he concludes with a hushed voice, more to himself than you. 

“but it turns out they have you already.”

“it’s not just me now.”

he mirrors your soft smile. it’s nice to see your frown turned upside down for a change. what was weighing down on him has become lighter, and he hopes it’s the same for you.

“the sun is about to rise.” you announce after a peek at the grandfather clock. “we should go home.”

jungkook isn’t a big fan of comfortable silence, but he can get used to it. he maintains a respectable distance from you in the elevator, engaging himself with the ascending number of floors on the screen. when the door opens, you’re the first to step out and he follows suit. 

your destination isn’t far. you pause in front of unit 1303.

“uhm, this is me.” 

yup, the same door he saw you come out of. 

“i’m not far, just at the end of the hall. 1311, if you ever need anything.”

your eyes trace the direction of where he’s pointing before you nod in understanding. with a hand gripping the door handle, you offer him one final smile.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

—

if others cheese over good morning texts first thing after opening their eyes, then jungkook’s case is one of a kind. 

he rolls over to his side, puffy eyes from sleep forming thinner crescent moons as he zooms in on your reflection on the glass. 

  10:08am

[attached image]

they’re happy and fed :)

10:10am

[attached image]

babies are getting bigger

this is how his mornings have been going for the past two weeks. he wakes up and he checks his phone for fish breakfast updates from you. in return, he sends fish dinner updates to you at night. he was the first one to send you a picture following the night you awkwardly bumped into each other. he didn’t want to wait around anymore.

were his palms sweaty? did he throw his phone on the bed after? 

no longer relevant. 

he now knows that your favorite color is blue and you have wednesdays and fridays off for the next month. that’s pretty cool. 

another thing he’s taken notice of is that you don’t use emojis or emoticons aside from the smiley face. 

although, there was once a miracle.

he scrolls up until he reaches your conversation from four days ago.

  11:59pm

LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ

😭😭😭

“ah, i’m annoyed!” he kicks his feet; half of the blanket falls to the floor. “she’s so cute!” 

things are indeed going great, greater than he imagined, but if he has to complain, he wishes he could see you in person more. he’s at work when you’re home and vice versa, so you don’t cross paths despite living on the same apartment floor. that 3am encounter was a rare phenomenon, it turns out. he chanced upon you a few times while running to work and you were feeding the fishes breakfast, but those conversations were barely conversations. 

‘i just thought of something when i was looking at them… they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.’

he hasn’t stopped thinking about that. 

—

“when are you asking her out on a date?”

taehyung is on a mission to tease him for life even from daegu. he’s only thankful that his best friend isn’t video calling him from the toilet again because he’s currently having his lunch. 

“i don’t know.” he grouches. “it doesn’t feel like the right time. i don’t want to scare her off.” 

“when’s that ‘right time’?” 

“i’ll figure it out…” he sighs, setting down the half-eaten sandwich on the table. “how do i say it…? i feel like- hm, she’s no- she’s not in the best emotional state right now.” 

“so you admit it,” taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking. “she has issues.”

that didn’t sit right with jungkook at all. he feels obligated to defend your honor. 

“hey, stop being rude. you haven’t even met her yet.” 

“come on, bro! i’m only looking out for you.” 

the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.

“i don’t want you to get hurt trying to fix another person again. it was hard to watch.”

he moved on and learned his lesson— he wants to spit out as a rebuttal, but his best friend gave him much to think about. would it make sense to say that he’s moved on but he hasn’t healed? 

“i know,” is what he ends up saying absentmindedly, distracted by thoughts that he isn’t keen on sharing. 

and as if he’s been slapped back into reality, he fixes his posture and picks up his sandwich. “so, what’s up? have you even slept yet?”

“no,” taehyung responds nonchalantly. between the two of them, he absolutely has the more fucked up sleeping schedule. “i’ve been awake since 12am.”

“didn’t you say you’d spend the entire vacation sleeping?”

“this vacation was a trap.”

the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.

“my mom makes me do all the chores everyday. this is worse than my actual job!” 

a devilish grin is drawn on jungkook’s face. ah, the grass is always greener on the other side.

  

—

“mondays stay to be a pain in the ass.”

does it look like he’s exhausted and dirty from chasing around children all day? jungkook is stressed as he checks himself out on his front camera. he’s walking home from the bus stop after clocking out of work. 

the street is mostly quiet, until a roaring engine approaches and he cringes at the raucous sound assaulting his eardrums. he’s already at the sidewalk for his safety and in accordance with the law, but he feels compelled to stay further back and wait for the vehicle to pass by. 

seconds later, a black harley races past.

jungkook is dumbfounded as he tries to piece the puzzle together. 

the lights are bright, and your pink hair blowing with the wind is even brighter. 

“w-was that…?”

—

he was going to bring it up over text last night, but he decided to reserve it for physical conversation because he wants to see your face light up again. 

you’re so fucking cool. 

he’s both amazed and envious. 

also, he’s pretty damn sure that you’re rich. he doesn’t understand why you’re living in this place and enduring the graveyard shift at the call center. 

a foolish smile is permanently plastered on his face as he sketches a commissioned digital portrait. he really should focus, or else he might end up drawing you instead of his client. 

he spins on his chair, pushing the wheels towards the bed, where he comfortably extends his feet over. almost missed it. the power has been out for an hour and he doesn’t expect it to come back until dawn. he was pissed about this being a normal occurrence during the first year of his stay here, but he’s gotten quite used to it. invested in a powerbank that almost looks like it can charge a car’s battery and he’s all set. 

the aggressive pounding at the door drowns out the pop ballad he’s listening to.

“what? who could it be at this hour?” 

he pauses the song, turning up the brightness of his ipad to use it as a makeshift flashlight. 

the last person he expected to appear at his door says the last thing he expected them to say. 

“jungkook, i think there’s a ghost in my apartment.”

—

jungkook sets down a hot cup of tea infront of you. in his mind, he thanks himself for keeping everything his mom sends him, even the things he do not like. 

“thanks,” you mumble, picking it up by the handle. 

he patiently sits on the other side of the table for two, giving you the time to calm yourself down from the horror that you witnessed. he has his emergency light propped up on the kitchen counter. he was saving it for when he finds himself in a grave situation, like a total blackout or an apocalypse. he didn’t imagine he’d end up using it for an unusual night like this. 

“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.

you nod. “yeah, i just don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“i’m here. you can stay until whenever you want.”

“thank you.”

you sigh with your eyes closed. you look like life has been drained out of you. 

“i’m really scared, jungkook.”

“are you sure about what you saw? i mean, it’s dark. your mind could’ve been playing tricks on you.”

“i saw him. i really him saw him!” you frantically defend yourself. “i was washing my hands then i turned around and i saw him, sitting at the edge of my bed! he looked at me!” 

his heart drops to his stomach when your chin begins to wobble and he sees your eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“and his skin was burnt off, jungkook.” you enunciate the words to emphasize the severity of what you experienced. “it’s so horrifying, i had to run.” 

“hey hey hey- it’s okay. i believe you.” he squeezes your cold, trembling hands. “you’re safe now. it’s only us here. no spirits- i promise.” 

he’s losing his mind a little bit. he’s holding the hands of the girl he likes and her pinky is wrapped around his. you’ve been putting him through a rollercoaster that, for once, he is terrified of. he wants to bask in this moment… but the specific detail you revealed is bothering him.

“and you said… he was burnt?” 

“yeah, why?”

he presses his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “no, it’s nothing.”

“there’s something.” you stop crying. “i see it on your face.”

“i swear, it's nothing!”

“you’re lying!” you accuse him. “what is it?”

“forget it, ____.”

“jungkook,” you say his name sternly. “tell me.”

shit, he’s done for. you can’t do this to him when he’s trying to protect you.

he swallows nervously. “but i don’t want to scare you.” 

“i saw a ghost. what else can scare me?”

“the truth is…” he pauses, still weighed down by hesitance. but he realizes he has reached the point of no return. also, you’re squeezing his hands a little too tight. “this building had to be restored. it burned down a decade ago. people suspect there was foul play, but the firemen said it was faulty wiring.” 

he’s the one telling the story, but he also feels chills run down his spine. 

“oh… so you’re saying…”

“i… believe so?” he winces with a mix of guilt and fear. “but it’s the first time i’m hearing of a ghost story here. i haven’t had any encounter either.” 

“i need to move.” you declare, not an ounce of humor in your voice. 

“don’t!” he protests. 

perhaps a little too passionately. could he be any more obvious? 

“what do you mean? you need to leave too!”

“i can’t,” he fakes a pained expression. “who’s going to take care of the fishes?” 

that works like a charm. 

you untangle your hands and lean against the chair, transforming into a pensive state. 

if he wasn’t going to convince you to stay, the fishes would. 

“fuck,” you curse in a low whisper, sipping on your tea. 

—

“i’m not the spoiled brat you think i am.” you frown, dangling your feet from the bed. “i sleep on the floor too.” 

“i’d be rude if i let you do that.” jungkook insists as he fluffs his pillow. “i’m comfortable right here. i’m used to it.” 

he was relieved that you weren’t stubborn enough to go back to your place and force yourself to sleep there. after seeing how terrified you were, it would’ve been impossible for him to close his eyes and shut down his brain from worrying. he hasn’t seen a ghost, but they have to be real. he likes to believe that we do not cease to exist and we have some place to go when we die. however, that does co-exist with being alarmed by a ghost of a burnt body sitting on your bed. he isn’t going to let you go back in there tonight. no way.

“you should get some rest. just tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“thank you, jungkook.” 

“it’s no problem!”

his name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips. he can’t help but to feel giddy every time he hears it. 

you lie down on the bed, facing the portable fan strategically set up on jungkook’s gaming chair. on the other hand, the emergency light is at the nightstand, acting as a night lamp. 

he checks the time on his ipad: 1:48am. his battery percentage: 55%. he’s not yet sleepy, so he decides to continue working until he gets the low battery warning for 20%. 

sitting down without back support becomes too uncomfortable after a while, especially when drawing. he doesn’t realize it when he changes positions, too focused on drawing the intricate floral patterns on the client’s blouse. 

“is that your girlfriend?” 

jungkook turns his head towards the voice and your face is only inches away from his. the word stops for a moment.

“is she okay with me sleeping here?” 

he scoots a little further away to grant his racing heart some mercy. “u-uhmm, no.”

“no…?” you repeat slowly, sounding concerned.

“no, as in she’s not my girlfriend!” he further elaborates in distress. “i don’t have a girlfriend.”

“okay, cool. you scared me.” you huff out a chuckle. “i don’t like being the girl who causes problems.” 

“no, you’re safe.” he manages to also laugh. “no one’s coming to pull your hair.”

“then who is she?” you point at the screen with your pouted lips, particularly the reference photo that’s been burnt to his memory. 

“a client. people pay me to draw them.”

“oh, so she’s one of your french girls?” you crack a humorous remark.

the reference catches him off guard, even though he should’ve totally seen it coming.

he squints. “mhmmm, i guess? kind of like that… except they’re not, you know, naked.”

“i see,” you hum in interest. “you don’t like doing nude drawings?” 

“honestly? i don’t know. i’ve never done it before.” 

“no one’s asked you?”

he shakes his head. “no one,”

“would you do mine if i ask you to?” 

he secretly pinches his thigh to prove that he’s not dreaming. 

what the fuck?

did he hear you right? 

it sounded like such a genuine and casual question in the name of art, but the worst thing he could do while his crush is sleeping over is to imagine her naked. he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks, possibly reaching his ears. 

“hey, breathe!” you giggle with a push of his shoulder. “you don’t have to answer that. sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“sorry, i was just surprised.” 

he forces himself to laugh and act like the question isn’t putting him through a crisis in so many levels. 

“i’ll let you finish your work.” you smile at him, pulling up the blanket. 

please do and stop shaking up my heart. 

“goodnight.” 

“goodnight, ____.” 

—

jungkook is still flustered by the conversation. since you opened up the topic, he did give it some serious thought. he thinks he wouldn’t mind if someone asked him to do it. he makes all of his negotiations and transactions online so everyone so far have been a stranger. as for the people he personally know, unless it’s his significant other, wouldn’t it be awkward? 

anyway, the chances of it happening are low. stressing over it is pointless.

he needs to finish this commission and move on to the next, or else he’d be encumbered by the pile of deadlines. he’s making the most out of this vacation so he can save more money and work won’t have to interfere so often with his studies. 

sometimes he doesn’t understand why he works so hard either. his family isn’t struggling financially. in fact, he’s studying to take over their businesses. his parents have been nothing but kind and supportive, but he is never compelled to ask them for money. he feels this strong and all-consuming need to prove himself as capable and independent. nothing compares to the gratification of buying his wants and needs with the money he sacrificed his blood, sweat, and tears for. he can’t stop himself.

“i can’t sleep…” a quiet murmur reaches his ears. “may i watch you draw?” 

oh, he thought you’ve fallen asleep twenty minutes ago. 

“of course,” 

he is more than happy to move closer to give you a good view of his progress. 

if there’s one thing he isn’t ashamed to boast about— it’s this. 

it’s silent except for your breathing and the taps of his pen on the screen. he’s a tad self-conscious with the presence of engrossed eyes, but he would describe the atmosphere as peaceful. 

“you’re such a great artist.” you whisper in awe. 

jungkook can’t recall the last time he felt this simple yet profound type of joy. 

—

true to your words, you did move as morning came. 

jungkook wakes up to an empty bed and a commotion outside. 

“____?” 

he knocks on the bathroom door, not expecting it to swing open from the action. he takes his chances and peeks inside with another call of your name, but you’re still nowhere to be seen. 

did you really leave without saying goodbye? 

he sighs in disappointment. he was planning on buying you breakfast, too. he knew it. he should’ve made the invitation last night. 

a series of loud thumps prompts him to scratch his head in irritation. he’s tired and sleep-deprived and he didn’t see his crush’s face first thing in the morning. the day has barely started and it’s already a bad one.

he opens the door with a considerable force, mouth running before his eyes could perceive his surroundings. 

“could you guys turn it down? people are still slee-”

“jungkook! you’re awake.” 

you jog over to him with a more cheery expression than last night’s. there’s no windows but the sun is shining over his face.

“sorry about the noise. i’m moving to a new unit.”

he can see that, but his brain remains in a muddled state. how did you make the arrangements overnight? he gapes at the men hauling your things to your new apartment.

“1309?” he exclaims.

“yeah,” you shyly reply. “it’s the only vacant one left.” 

almost but not quite. does he have the right to complain? you’d be one door away. 

he’s fucking ecstatic. 

if he just sets aside the fact that it took a ghastly ghost encounter for the stars to align. 

the wrinkles on his forehead disappear and become crinkles by his eyes, accompanied by an excited beam. 

“should we feed them together then grab breakfast after?” 

—

time passes by too fast for jungkook’s liking. summer vacation ended a month ago and he’s back to busting his ass off at the university. he misses the days and nights when the only thing he was going insane about is you. 

what’s taking you so long to reply? did he say something stupid? does he look nice? smell nice? are you crying again? that ghost isn’t bothering you again, is he? 

now that he needs to focus on something less interesting, say studying taxation and business law for subsequent long quizzes tomorrow, he’s back to crushing cans of energy drinks. 

fuck, he misses you. 

your purple hair tie is still wrapped around the knob of his bathroom sink faucet and he keeps forgetting to give it back to you. you make him nervous but he forgets he ever felt that way after five minutes with you. he craves to be connected with you on a more intimate level. he wants to be more than just a neighbor you make small talk with, over text. he wants to be more than a friend you sometimes eat with, on your days off. but he likes you so much that he can be content with the way things are, so long as it means you won’t go further away. 

he’s absolutely pumped to hear his friends berate him for being stupid enough to enjoy the bare minimum from a woman. 

an email notification interrupts his intense cramming session with his ipad and his illegally downloaded ebooks.

No Name

Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME! 

snack break at the aquarium? 

he already has a strong inkling on who the sender could be; he clicks the email address and unsurprisingly, it says that it’s you. 

did you seriously go out of your way to email him because he told you that he was going to keep his phone turned off while studying? 

ridiculous. 

so cute and ridiculous. 

—

“i brought your favorite.” you meekly present your gift to jungkook. “uh, actually i’m not sure if it’s your favorite. but it’s become mine since you gave it to me.”

jungkook gapes at the bag of his favorite gummies sitting on his lap. just for comparison, the packet he gave you that day you first met came from his pocket. this one is almost as wide as his thighs slightly spread apart. 

but most importantly, what did you just say?

“y-you didn’t throw it away?”

“what are you saying?” you pout, a little hurt by the question. “why would i throw it away?”

“you should’ve. you can’t just accept food from strangers!” 

he was being pretty before. he humbly admits that. he just wanted an excuse to bring you up so he whined about it for weeks, but he was never genuinely upset. not specifically about that, anyway.

“why are you so upset?” you match the rise of his voice. “i’m fine and we ended up being friends. now say ‘thank you’ and open it!”

“ah, sure-” he panics, fumbling with the zigzag edges of the packaging. you were kind of hot for that. “thank you! this was seriously so thoughtful of you.” 

you nod in satisfaction, stealing a gummy worm the second that the plastic is torn open. “you’re welcome!”

—

  “i should stop eating.” jungkook mumbles to himself, chewing the other half of his nth gummy worm of the night. 

“yeah,” you agree, pulling your hand away from the bag with an impressive show of restraint. “we should.”

the two of you probably look bizarre in the eyes of strangers, particularly those who have seen you one too many nights admire the golden creatures like you’re being hypnotized and nothing else in the world matters. jungkook never knows what’s running in your head, but to him, these moments are all about being beside you. the loud beating of his heart could be attributed to the caffeine, or the bare skin of your knees touching and no one daring to move. 

“the tank feels…” there is a delay as you search for the appropriate word. “dull. can’t there be more variety of plants?” 

“i tried,” he laughs at the funny memory you evoked. “when i came back the next day, two of them already ate everything.”  

you gasp. “everything? is that normal?” 

he opens his mouth to speak, but you unknowingly interrupt him with a raise of your hand.

“okay, i’m searching on naver.” 

jungkook behaves for the fifteen minutes that follow, sneaking a peek at your phone screen every now and then with squinted eyes. you read fast, and your knees shake when you have to think hard. they’re small things. they don’t matter that much. but they’re still parts of your entirety which he is to be well-aquainted with. 

“according to this person, we can try giving them marimo moss balls to play with… and hmmm-” you hum, lips puckering into a pout. “then for plants, anubias and java ferns?” 

“i still know the address of the place i bought the plants from before. we can go when you’re free.” he offers, jumping on the opportunity to spend time with you outside of this building. 

“you free sunday?” 

“is the afternoon alright? i have to go to uni in the morning.” 

please say yes.

“sure, that works.”

he breaks into a triumphant smile. 

yes! 

—

jungkook has been looking forward to this day all week. he breezed through work and college, motivated to finish all his tasks so he could enjoy his time with you without any worries. he knows it’s not a date, but anyone can be excited to meet up with a friend.

“you look pretty.” he smiles, breaking the silence in the elevator. 

“you can barely see my face.” 

“i see it!”

your nonchalance slowly fades, seemingly replaced by unease, which confuses jungkook. you put on a white face mask from the pocket of your hoodie before facing him. 

“now you don’t!” you banter with him playfully. 

“too late,” he sticks his tongue out. “i can draw it from memory.” 

this is your usual day outfit, a basic classic. a hoodie paired with shorts and sneakers. the face mask is part of it too. in a crowd, you could be anyone, even him, if only your hair doesn’t stand out among the neutrals. he likes it. he likes how you match outfits without trying to. you get more dressed up at night, which makes sense since you go to work. 

“so you can draw me even if i flash you just once?” 

scandalized, he almost chokes on his own spit. “____!”

“i’m joking!” you giggle.

“no, please do it.” he encourages you in jest.

that earns him a slap on the face. he touches the affected area. it didn’t hurt at all, you did it with a light hand, but he gapes at you dumbstruck. 

“you can joke about it but i can’t?!” 

you only laugh at his reaction. he also imagines that he looks funny. not long after, the elevator opens and you drag him out by his hand.

—

the cashier pushes back your extended hand. “sorry, we don’t accept card payments.” 

while you pout sadly at the rejection, jungkook rushes to grab the wallet that you made him hide because this was your ‘idea.’ 

“here,” he puts down the paper bills on the counter.

“i’ll pay you back.” 

“no, it’s fine. my treat for the fishes since they’d probably eat them anyway.” he jokes to comfort you.

“yeah, okay,” you respond listlessly. “then i’ll buy our dinner. samgyupsal?”

“call!” 

jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too. 

“okay, let’s go.”

he invites you to leave after the cashier gives him the paper bag. as you walk out together, your shoulders brush, and for a brief moment, he assumes that you would cling to him. he doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. you never do. he continues walking and he doesn’t even notice that he has left you behind.

the door is half-open and he’s stood in place, eyes scanning the store like he just lost a child at the mall. 

of course, he finds you hunched over infront of an aquarium inhabited by a betta fish. 

“do you want to get it?” he whispers, mindful of scaring away the little creature. “i don’t think i’ve seen a purple fish before.”

not even in art or television. it’s strange. 

he feels your eyes glued to him. persuaded by curiosity, he turns his cheek. 

his breathing stops when he sees your face so close. 

he doesn’t know you removed your mask. you’re staring at him so intensely with those beautiful  eyes, sparkling with the reflections of light. you’re dazzling, and intimidating, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart.

a little nudge and he’d give you an eskimo kiss. 

if there’s a perfect romantic moment to kiss your lips, he’d say it’s right now. 

“it’s not the fish i want.” 

he doesn’t hear you. 

do you see how entranced he is by your lips? 

“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”

his eyes chase the sight of them when you return your gaze to the aquarium. 

“like you,” the words slip out without thought.

—

a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. you blink away the tears and you stomach the heavy in your chest. you know jungkook is still staring at you with those bedroom eyes and there was no deep thought behind his compliment. will he still find you beautiful when he sees who you are beyond the surface? 

“like me…”

— 

after dinner, you and jungkook planted the plants and installed the shipwreck you wanted. it was not cheap, but it was worth it, if it meant seeing your priceless joy. he carries around more cash than necessary when he goes out with you. he’s praying that you didn’t see his sigh of relief when the waiter said the restaurant accepts card. he doesn’t know much about your circumstances, why you stopped going to school and why you opted to work instead, but he knows you lead a lifestyle different from his. he’s not ignorant. he estimates your bag is five times more expensive than his ipad. but with how you’re soundly sleeping on his shoulder, he can say that it’s justified. 

he learns that you’ve been working straight for fifteen days, with 10-20 hours of overtime per week. you practically live there. he can feel the weight of your shoulders on him, which is why he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up despite his bladder’s need of the bathroom. this is probably the closest he will ever be to you. he can’t be the one to walk away in this memory. 

the humming noise of the aquarium’s filter fills the silence.

it always feels like he’s dreaming when he’s with you.

“after all that money we spent, we should really name them now.” 

you release the yawn you were holding back while speaking, head dropping on his shoulder. jungkook stiffens at the suddenness of the physical contact, but then relaxes thanks to the tranquilizing scent of your shampoo— it has to be coconut, with some sort of flowers that perfectly compliment it.  

“have any ideas?”

“yes,” he hears the smile in your voice. “you know those two who have similar hues?”

he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.

“tangerine, and then clementine for the smaller one.” 

“those are cute names.”

“you like them?”

“yes, they really sound like siblings!”

“okay, i won.” you shrug your shoulders as far as they can go, as if you’re so pleased you could burst. “that’s settled. your turn!”

“hmmm…” 

he unconsciously bounces his knee as he racks his brain, which you swat with a disapproving noise, mumbling “making me dizzy!”

“sorry,” he winces.

your giggles are infectious, bringing tickles somewhere deep inside of him, butterflies in his stomach coming alive like spring only arrived. 

“shouldn’t we at least have one named after a flower?” he suggests. “hold on, i’ll search for good ones.”

“let’s give the flower name to the yellow one. she stands out, like a flower.”

you blink wearily, a soft smile amidst the haze, sent to the yellow fish who swam closer as if it heard itself being called. 

he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.  

“sunflower, daisy, azalea… for-forthysia? lily, cosmos, dahlia-”

“dahlia-” you quietly repeat the name in awe, clinging to his arm to steal his attention.

“dahlia it is!” 

“i wish dahlia would live forever.” you sigh, haunted by the inevitable. 

“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles. 

“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”

he squeezes your hand tenderly. “i’ll be right there with you.” 

and with unspoken mutual understanding, your fingers intertwine. neither one of you wants to let go, he feels it strongly and he is sure of it. his cheeks may very well begin to ache with how elated he is. 

“that’s three… you know, i saw someone on youtube who named their fish coral. i thought it was a very pretty name. how about that?”

“i like it,” you chirp. “i kind of wish it was my name.” 

“should i just give it to you?”

you lift your head a little, sleepy eyes connecting with his. “do you know someone who has the same name as me?”

“no,” he slowly shakes his head. “you’re the only one.” 

“let’s give it to the one with the longest tail.” 

your head drops on his shoulder, as if it’s where it belongs. 

“i like being the only one.”

you fell asleep seconds after that.

he found entertainment in watching as much as the goldfishes playing around with the shipwreck. it’s a wooden ship split in two, with cracks and holes big enough for them to swim in and out of. even the sails have holes. the drawings on them are unrecognizable beyond his imagination. 

it’s quite charming, but he doesn’t understand what’s special about it the way you do. 

a teardrop drips from the tip of your nose and crashes on his arm, but he doesn’t feel it. 

eventually, it dries, and is erased from history. 

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[captain-marble]

silly thought that i’ve been rotating at might write someday (although knowing me…)

anyways!

someone gets mad and pranks the justice league by releasing clips of their embarrassing moments on tower (nothing that could reveal identities but still embarrassing)

it’s stuff like marvel failing at cooking

batman being sleep deprived and trying to parent different league members (namely marvel)

flash running into walls and things (a lot)

superman being afraid of a shoe and litterally leaping into the air to get away from it. (it was green)

anyways everyone find this hillarious and the members are a lil mortified. But fawcett takes it into their own hands to give marvel food (litterally he has too much food to know what to do with) to the point he ends up like going around sharing it with the homeless kids and stuff

not only that but the league decide to take it into their own hands to teach marvel. cut to videos being released of marvel learning to cook with different leaguers

superman: marv can you pass me a rolling pin? so what you’ve got to do is-

marvel looking at a pot of utensils questioning…. before tentatively holding out a masher: ?

superman: (blinks)

supes probably teaches him how to make apple pie and talk about how if you don’t use the sugar you can use the pie crust to make savoury pies too and blah blah life hack. his parents probably mean he’s the worst offender for trying to shove food or recipes onto marvel

hal and barry prolly teach him how to make like single guy with a shitty job type grind shit that’s like carb loaded and you can just bulk make and store ands got everything you need (cuz they always busy as hell and ain’t rich or anything so don’t got the time or stuff to make tons of food) (it kinda looks like struggle food but yk it gets them through)

hal: so yeah you just dump everything in and if it starts to look radioactive then you know it’s cooked-

billy ‘orphan street rat will eat anything’ batson: damn bitch you live like this? /silly

diana teaches him a greek dish from her childhood that she thinks marvel would feel nostalgic for (i mean billy doesn’t but he remembers eating it in past lives and the thought diana put into it really comforts him)

bruce either a) refuses to teach marvel anything as he himself cannot cook and won’t let the work know that (as all of these cooking videos have been being leaked to the internet who are EATING IT UP like it’s not just fawcett anymore everyone loves cap now becuase you can tell he’s just that authentic cuz his ass does not know these are being filmed) b) cannot cook so it ends up just being a hot mess c) they learn to make a new recipe together d) he has alfred teach him how to make something so he doesn’t embarrass himself e) he teaches marvel how to make struggle food that’s worse than hal and barry’s

marvel: aren’t you funded by a billionaire?

batman: hm

marvel: batman….damn bitch you live like this???????????

everyone just dogs on batman online for like banging bruce wayne (no one believes that the butts match :/ ) and yet still being ass at cooking, like bro is at nuclear levels of damn you live like this with his struggle food

anyways cap finds out about the cooking with cap vids and immediately gets all embarrassed that people know he sucks at cooking, fawcett lay off a little on giving him food now they know that the JL are helping him, but he regularly receives copies of old cook books and someone’s nans favourite recipe and stuff and he’s taking home enough food from the JL to actually eat well and is therefore a lot happier and so the JL are like wow marv really likes cooking, and so at least like once a week (usually more) someone (or sometimes just he will) will cook with him and he’ll take home the left overs (if people eat any otherwise he just takes it all himself (despite him frantically offering the food out to people cuz he feels bad for taking so much))

years later when the identity reveal happens they’re like wow??? this makes so much sense???? i’m so glad we’ve been inadvertently feeding the homeless child??? yippee for him not starving and being more healthy that he would’ve been????

but yeah it’s so silly and i think billy would actually love having the chance to eat foods he’s never had before, especially where he spent so long on the streets that he kinda was forced to like ration and buy cheap food, so like he’s being treated by trying new foods and risking not liking it and stuff

but yeah i just think cap cooking and baking is neat teehee

[starsexplodeatnight]

Tf141 guys x Reader

Okay, Sooooo

I don’t know what this is per say, just

John Price x Florist!reader

Kyle Garrick x Dog-walker!reader

John Mactavish x Nurse!reader

Simon Riley x Preschool-teacher!reader

Price first!!!

This old dog is not having a good day. The first time you two meet? He’s looking to order a sympathy piece… a fallen solider. So, he’s not in the best mood when he enters your shop.

Then, you come out the back with your sweet smile. It feels like lip balm on chapped lips, soothing the cracks splintering his heart in this moment.

“Hi, I’m *Name*. Welcome, how can I help you?” With a soft look on your face.

Fuck him, he needs the kindness. You’re so understanding when he tells you, not overly patronizing just… kind. Understanding. You’d have to be, having to make arrangements and funeral pieces as much as you do.

While you’re quickly piecing the arrangement together you talk to him, just a natural flow of conversation. He does pause when you ask. “What do you want in the arrangement? What would you like it to look like?” “Sympathetic?” And you laugh. “Fair enough.”

He likes that laugh.

You hand him the arrangement and tell him how to take care of the flowers to make them last longer. Then give him this sweet, sweet encouraging smile…

Yeah, he comes back a week later. Up front asks: “You want to get dinner Love?” Makes you flush, your co-workers in the back giggling until you shoo them away. “That sounds lovely.”

‘Love really does bloom, doesn’t it?’ He muses.

Generally? Your life together is sweet.

You’re together for about a year before he proposed. He’s a man, he’s old enough to know what he wants. He wants to wake up with you ever morning with the safety of that ring around your finger. That, if anything ever happens to him? He could still provide even in his absence…

You hate it when he talks like that but, accept that you need to be realistic… deep down? It makes you feel loved. A painful, sorrowful, love.

He helps you when he can. Whenever he’s home? He’s at your shop helping you get any extra work done so you can spend as much time together as you can while he’s not deployed.

You need help assembling an arbor for a wedding? He uh- he has carpentry skills… let him help, love. He builds you the sturdiest arbor in the industry!

Deliveries? He’ll run those, he’s got time. He doesn’t mind. Warms his heart a bit to do some good delivering flowers to people… they get so happy when he shows up with flowers.

He helps you set up the flowers at weddings! He also refuses to do anything that puts him within the vicinity of the bride and her party! They mistook him as a stripper once, never again. Never again. He’s a happily married man, thank you very much!

What kind of male stripper wears a hat like his any way? Wrangler jeans and a L.L Bean shirt that’s probably older than the bride!!! It was actually very cute to see how steamed he was after that…

You make sure to give HIM flowers. Most men don’t get flowers until their funeral … You don’t want that to be John. He melts a little when you bring himself home flowers you arranged yourself just for him.

You’ve looked up and seen him leaning on the table with a rose between his teeth. As soon as you made eye contact, he wiggles his brows. It made you crack up, he did it just for that reason. A rare moment of silliness from your John.

Will judge other brides choices when you bring home the files for the weddings you’re hired for. But, nothing will ever compare to your wedding to him in his eyes because your wedding was the best. Ever.

He saved your bouquet, dried it and framed it. Gave it to you as an anniversary present.

He then played your wedding song and you two slow danced in a circle together…. Sigh…

Gaz!:

Kyle was on his morning run when he saw you. Across the street with a few dogs, you looked so fucking happy, that made you look so fucking pretty.

You’re wearing an over sized t-shirt, sweatpants and look frazzled as you wrangle 4 dogs at once. You don’t even notice the Adonis across the street as you try and regain steady footing as the dogs all do their best to keep you on your toes.

Brock the 3 year old yellow lab was a puller… and he is CHONKY so you didn’t have much time to pay attention to anything else.

Kyle now tries to ‘bump’ into you. Timing his run to make a meet cute happen. Fuck him if he’s already done his run and doesn’t see you only to spot you once he’s on his door step sweaty and gross! EVERY TIME!

He’ll try and go again even though his legs are burning. This? This stunt catches the dogs attention, not yours. You’ve got 5 today and they HAUL ASS to go see Kyle. And you’re just dragged to his feet.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! They’re all friendly, I swear!” You wheeze, Kyle laughs. “Don’t worry Luv! S’fine. It’s cute,” He’s not looking at the dogs, despite the Jack Russell ‘Shermie’ making eyes at him.

Ah ha! Kyle has ingratiated himself! He get’s so pumped as soon as he gets home! You invited him to walk with you! ‘Anytime!’ Fuck yeah! He does a fist pump and dances foot to foot.

He finds dogs are a good judge of character and, these dogs? They love you. And you are devoted to them despite them not being yours. He finds those qualities incredibly attractive.

Generally? You two are cute.

He’ll take the high energy dogs on jogs for you when you meet up. He can keep up with them! *subtle flex*

He despite his athleticism? He likes the small, slow dogs. Like the blind, cross eyed Shi tzu ’Louie’ and the grumpy old Bassett ‘Geraldine’

It gave him ample time to walk leisurely and talk to you… You, Gaz and Geraldine went on many walks together.

He love, love, loves whenever you send him a selfie of you and one of the dogs! He’s got a whole folder of them and the newest picture you send? That one is always his newest Lock Screen.

Has worn a dog papoose and, has carried a dog while wearing a dog papoose. He is not ashamed, you thought he looked cute. And he takes all compliments of any kind. Hell yeah he looks cute, thanks baby!

He loves those prissy little toys. ‘Teddy’ the Pomeranian is one of his favorites, Teddy just loves being held. Oh, Kyle looks so attractive holding that spoiled little poof… he’s so sweet and caring with it too. Fuck!

He holds you if one of your regulars dies. Losing an animal is hard, especially when you’d been walking that dog since it was a puppy… he’s here luv, it’s okay. His eyes are misty too because, he cared for that dog too.

He get’s a Bassett stuffed animal, ‘R.I.P Geraldine, you helped me find something worthwhile.’

He proposes to you that night.

You have a little Bassett hound topper on your cake as a small tribute to the dog that helped you get closer…

He will and HAS gotten between you and an aggressive dog. He doesn’t like hurting animals but, fuck if he was going to left anyone hurt his baby and her charges! Tries to beat the piss out of the owner.

His wedding gift to you? A dog. Not just any dog! He wanted to get you one that will keep you safe while he’s deployed and one that will help you handle your charges. So he get’s you a very highly trained Belgian malinois.

Her name is Gracie and she helps you both sleep better at night…

Soap!:

Oh, oh Soap. He get’s lambasted during a mission and gets put into hospital. His nurse? An over tired, over worked, grumpy woman who will not put up with Tom-fuckery during her shift.

In rolls in Soap: a battered pile of tenderized meat who immediately attempts a pick up line while she’s trying to make him comfortable. Oh, it’s going to be a long recovery.

Every goddamn shift! He’d light up every single fucking time you walk into the room! Oh, it makes you want to smother him with a pillow -cute aggression-

It’s not fair! You wanted to hate him! Be the grumpy bitch nurse and go on with your day! But, he makes it hard!!!

He seems so genuinely interested and not some creepy perv hitting on a nurse! He asks you how you are in such a genuine way, he leans in to listen, retains information! He does try and rile you up but, only because he thinks your ‘angry face’ is ‘cute’ the bastard! Who gave him the right to call you cute!?

And he loves, despite how angry you present yourself. You are the gentlest nurse, you care, you’re still a good nurse despite trying to act as jaded as the older nurses. You remember he does like certain foods, you get blood on the first draw and you always know what he needs…

God, it’s tumbling down the slippery slope faster than you ever imagined. You weren’t supposed to catch feelings! That’s not allowed!!! But when he’s finally discharged? He finds you, and offers to walk you home instead of going with his friends to celebrate his discharge.

He knew how much it meant to you for him to acknowledge what you’ve done for him… even behind the tough wall you put up.

He’ll always remember you stayed far past your shift to watch him when he spiked a fever and was critical…

You two are sour and sweet.

He rips those jaded glasses off your face and gives you a big kiss.

You’re kinda just- not codependent! but, something on the healthier side of that. You have a comfortable rhythm. He’ll go out with friends at night, stalling until you come off your shift and he can pick you up.

He gets to spend time with friends, you get to walk home knowing you’re safe at 2 in the morning… even if you have to steady him on the way home after one too many pints.

He has bought a sexy nurse costume for you. He mainly wants you to wear it, he has worn it as well…

He loves your stories! You have the best stories! He’ll sit you on the bar so you can regale his mates that story of that guy! “You know- that guy! The one that got that thing stuck up his ass!” “Which one?”

Sometimes you just, put your hand over his eyes. He looks at you with such fucking love it’s ridiculous. He just pushes further into your hand when you do this.

He will lie down and offer to be your dummy if you need a refresher on anatomy. Wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

It’s a personal victory whenever he makes you laugh.

He is lord and savior to the children in the hospital. He will come to visit the children’s care unit, full gear. You find him, and he is their god. They cling to his arms and legs, he’s still moving around, strong enough to keep on going even with 7 kids clinging to him.

He will use his little minions to his own personal advantage. Make them give you, like drawings and paper flowers just to see you smile. And for his own amusement.

It’s like Syd the Sloth and the tiny sloths.

He tells you he can’t wait until you have your own… you never imagined you’d actually ever get baby fever after working as a nurse again… Johnny makes that happen.

He makes you cry when he’s deployed. Wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Oh, lass. Don’t cry! I ‘Ken you can put me back together if I come back in pieces.” He tries to joke, only makes you cry harder…

He holds you a little tighter after that one.

He never wants you to have to put you through that, ever. He cringes every time he remembers he said that… that he thought it was okay to joke about putting you through that.

Marries you after he comes home from deployment. He comes back in better shape this time too. He’s got to be careful now, doesn’t he?

Ghost:

This man? This man falls for a preschool teacher.

He’s just sitting in the park, minding his own business when he see’s you pass with your little class walking behind you like ducklings. Fuck, when was the last time he’d seen someone so pure?

Your preschool was just on the edge of the park and you, with a few other handlers, were letting the kids explore the park under supervision. Their ‘task’ is to find the ‘fauna’ of the park!

Imagine his surprise when more than 4 of the little crotch goblins run up to him specifically. He thought he was scary to the little kids, well apparently not! You rush over to his rescue when you see them using him as a piece of playground equipment.

Oh, he looked so confused. Frozen like a deer in headlights as you stifle your giggle, peeling the 4 year old girl off his lap. “I’m so sorry!” “No, s’fine… cheeky buggers.” The kids all giggle, eager to play with him again.

Ghost then adds it into his schedule to mosey past your school every afternoon. You always know when he does because it’s always at recess and all the kids (except a few) flock to the fence to say hello to ‘Mr Ghost.’

He feels like a celebrity… softens his prickly heart to see all these sweet kids admire him… he thinks so poorly of himself, then he looks at these kids and you? You all look at him with such adoration…. Makes him feel like a human being again instead of a war machine.

And you look at him with such love. You find it sweet he takes his time to come see the kids, graciously accepting their pictures they drew of him.

He was kind of awkward at first, he’d stood ramrod straight like he would with his old drill sergeant and informed you of his record. He wasn’t a creep, he was in the military, and this was his little… respite from all the bile he had to face.

You couldn’t turn him away. You welcomed him every time you saw him over the fence. He remained behind the boundary of the fence and was . He was very grateful you didn’t think he was a creep and trespassed him from walking by.

You two were blissful.

You asked him out on a date. He asked you how many children you wanted… so sweet. lol

He finds you absolutely beautiful, bouncing one of your students on your hip whenever he stops by. He can’t help it. He can’t wait until you have kids of your own, you’ll teach them to be such wonderful human beings. He’ll teach them how to defend themselves and he’ll keep you all safe.

He becomes a bit of a helper around the preschool whenever he’s not deployed. He’s certified in cpr- why not? He mostly just watches the class room to see if any kid is doing anything wrong and preventing anyone from choking.

Kids take turns sitting in his lap whenever he’s sitting. He acts like he doesn’t care but you know he adores it.

Little girls will bring him stuffed animals and by the time class ends he’s surrounded by every stuffed animal in class. He remembers all of their names too. Oh, you can’t help it you get cute aggression with him!

Will walk around with your lipstick prints all over his balaclava. He will dodge envy attempt to wipe them off. They’re his!

After a long day, he’ll help you clean up the class room. In his mind he’s playing this scenario out, like you two are cleaning up after your own kids.

Hates the moms. He hates every single one of of the moms. They’re annoying. They’re coming after his fine ass because they didn’t find a man that treat them right, like he does you and he’s not putting up with it!

Asks you to give him hickeys once. ‘‘But love, yes.’’ After you tell him ‘‘no!’’ “We work in a preschool!” “And? They bite each otha’ all the time.” “Simon!”

He is their god, part 2.

They laugh at all of his stupid jokes, which in turn makes you laugh and now he’s a smug bastard.

Vibes with Bluey, you two watch it together. Aims to be like Bandit when he’s a dad. Takes it as a compliment when you tell him. “You’re pretty much a dead ringer for him already love.” Like, stunned for a second before he’s kissing your temple.

He hates deploying now.

All the kids cry when he does, it’s awful. Then, it makes you cry too. You were trying so hard to be strong and now you’re crying along with them.

Makes him feel like a worse monster than he thought he was.

Tada! Idk what this was! But there ya’ go! Enjoy!

[fluentmoviequoter]

Just a Dog Walker

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x grad student!dog walker!fem!reader

Summary: As Tim's dog walker, and nothing more, you grow close to him and Kojo. After protecting Kojo from a dog fight, you learn how Tim really sees you.

Warnings: dog attack, dog bite (r), fluffy ending. (Kojo is totally fine!)

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: More Kojo, what the world really needs.

“Sergeant Bradford, come to my office for a minute?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers quickly. “Uh, sorry. No, sir, I can’t.”

Crossing his arms, Wade inquires, “Why not?”

A low huff is audible in Tim’s office, but Wade knows it isn’t him.

“Is yo’ dog under that desk?”

“No.”

“Let me amend the question. Is Kojo under the desk?”

Kojo barks happily, trying to push past Tim to visit Wade. Wade shakes his head, dropping his arms.

“Why is he here?”

“I’m working a double and I couldn’t leave him at home. What if he had run out of water or needed to go out?” Tim answers.

“You know, here in sunny Los Angeles, there are more people than I can count who are certified dog sitters.”

“Kojo doesn’t like strangers.”

“Just Kojo? Look, Tim, I get it, the bond between a man and his dog. But, there has to be a boundary, a separation somewhere. I’ll call Luna, she’s got friends with dogs and trusted, bonded employees who watch their dogs. Walk ‘em daily, train ‘em, do everything while you’re at work.”

“I can take care of my dog by myself.”

“Not while you’re at work, Bradford. He can stay for now, Lord knows he’s a better boy than you, but by the end of the week I want to know you’ve got someone to care for him.”

Tim grumbles, pushing his hands under the desk to pet Kojo. “I’ll take you up on Luna’s friends then.”

“She’ll call later.”

“You already asked her?”

“’Course I did. We have work to do. And, so you know, we can see Kojo’s paws under the desk. But nice try.”

“I tried, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo, passing him a treat from the container hidden in his desk drawer.

✯✯✯✯✯

Grad school is expensive, but since you don’t have the degree level you are striving for, you need a different job to get you through. Pushing 30 and being a dog walker isn’t ideal, but it’s paying the bills. One of your neighbors helped you open a business with proper insurance and licensing to care for the dogs of Los Angeles. 

Most of your clients live nearby, and you do your rounds twice daily, studying and attending classes between. One of your favorite clients has a friend named Luna, who you love. She gets you jobs, helps you out constantly, and is like a mother figure to you. You are forever grateful for her. So, when she calls, you rush to answer.

“Hey, Luna!” you answer. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you doing? Still working on your dissertation; making progress?”

“Slow but steady, yeah. What can I do for you?”

“This is actually something I can do for you. There’s a sergeant that works with Wade; he’s got a dog and needs someone trusted to take care of his dog while he’s at work. He’s been sneaking Kojo into the station and Wade had to ask him to stop.”

“Kojo? That’s an adorable name. But, yeah, I’d be happy to meet him.”

“Awesome! His name’s Tim. I will send him your number and have Wade force him to set something up.”

“Is Tim a little rough around the edges, typical cop type?”

“Not typical, no… Just- you’ll see when you meet him. He’s great, though, deep down.”

“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Luna.”

“See you Friday?”

“See you Friday.”

You sit back, writing the name ‘Tim’ on your dog-walking calendar. Another client would be great for your wallet, but it seems like this sergeant will take some convincing before he hires you. This is understandable, of course, because you wouldn’t let just anyone take care of your babies, and dogs are just four-legged babies. 

“Please be as great as Luna said,” you whisper before returning your attention to the research before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Yeah, I texted her. We’re meeting at an outdoor café tonight,” Tim says before Wade can ask. “But if I don’t like her or if Kojo doesn’t like her, I’m going to keep looking.”

“Got it,” Wade answers. “But you’ve got more double shifts in your future, so don’t take too long trying to find a ‘perfect’ dog walker.”

Tim nods, hoping he can find a way out of letting a stranger into his house to take care of his dog. He checked your name, and your business seems legitimate, but there’s no way of knowing. Luckily, he and Kojo are both excellent judges of character.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luna sent you a picture of Kojo, and you spot him immediately. The man sitting beside him, though, is breathtakingly handsome. You’re shocked that he doesn’t have female neighbors and friends lining up at his door, offering to take care of Kojo (and him). 

“Hi, Mr. Bradford?” you ask.

Kojo looks up at you and pants, his tail slapping against Tim’s leg.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” Tim replies, offering his hand.

Shaking his hand, you glance down at Kojo. When Tim releases his grip, you squat and extend your hand for Kojo to sniff. He flips your hand up with his snout, stepping closer to you.

“I’m sure Luna told you that I’m a cop,” Tim continues, drawing your attention away from Kojo.

You sit beside him, lowering a hand to pat Kojo’s head. “She did, sir.”

“Then you know that if anything were to happen to my house during or after your visit, I could very easily charge you with any number of crimes. And I won’t tell you what I would do if something happened to Kojo while under your care.”

You can’t tell if his threat is legitimate, so you nod in understanding.

“Yes, sir, I understand. Kojo’s safety, and your home, of course, are of the utmost importance and I will do everything I can to do right by both of you.”

Tim nods, watching Kojo for a moment. “You’re good with him. He’s not always so welcoming with strangers; scared one of my girlfriends away once. So, I’m going to give you a chance.”

“Amazing. Thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“What do we need to do to get started?”

“I can offer you a few days free, as a trial run. And if you still want to keep me on afterward, we can discuss payment, sir.”

“That’s unnecessary. I need someone to take care of Kojo and you seem to be the best fit.”

“Okay. Then I will email you a link to create a client account and my website has a portal to pay. Luna mentioned that you work overnight sometimes, so if you needed me to do later or earlier visits, I can do that too, sir.”

“Sounds good.”

Tim stands, wiping his hand on his jeans before offering his hand again.

“Nice to meet you and I look forward to your email.”

“You, too. And thank you.”

Petting Kojo once more, you smile before walking away. You didn’t expect him to be so attractive, so you have to remember that he clarified you’re his dogwalker, and he doesn’t even really want a dogwalker.

Determined to make him see the benefits of someone caring for Kojo, you add him to your schedule before he even pays you. Money is no longer a concern; you’re already in love with Kojo, and now, you need to focus on not falling for his owner, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’d you think about her? I know you hired her, but what’d you think personally?” Luna asks, standing in Wade’s office.

Tim shrugs. “She’s very polite. Seems driven, hard-working, responsible.”

“Well, now that you’ve read her resumé, have anything else to add?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and Wade guesses, “She makes you nervous?”

“A little.”

“What?” Luna exclaims. “She’s the sweetest!”

“Not like that, Luna,” Wade interjects. “Someone wasn’t expecting a pretty dog walker.”

“Oh. Tim Bradford, I wasn’t sure you still had it in you.”

“She is taking care of Kojo. Yes, she is beautiful, but this won’t go any farther than a business agreement.”

“Care to bet on that?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers before leaving and closing the door behind him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Kojo, Kojo,” you call, entering Tim’s house with the key he had made for you.

Kojo’s nails click on the flooring, rushing to greet you.

“Hey, buddy. You miss your dad? I bet you do.”

As you slide Kojo’s harness over his front legs, he licks your face, and you laugh, scratching his chest before standing to connect his leash. Kojo has quickly become your favorite dog. You visit several throughout the day, but Kojo is the sweetest and the most handsome.

When you return to Tim’s side door, it’s standing open. You know that you closed and locked it, so you pull Kojo’s leash tight, stepping back as you prepare to run.

“It’s just me!” Tim yells from inside. “Sorry, my hands were full, and I couldn’t close the door.”

Sighing in relief, you lead Kojo inside, closing the door behind you and locking it instinctually.

“Honey, we’re home!” you call.

Tim freezes in the kitchen at your teasing, borderline flirtatious tone. You remove Kojo’s leash and harness and put it away, following him as he runs toward Tim.

“Why are you home so early?” you ask.

“I worked all night,” Tim answers. “Thought you’d feel my absence through our connection.”

You chuckle at Tim’s flirting. After the second meeting, it became much easier to talk to him. Interestingly enough, Tim started the flirtatious tendencies. You tend to stick to business-related topics, but sometimes it feels like you’re just two friends – maybe more – and you forget you’re just his dog walker.

“Everything go okay at work, sir? Kojo, for one, had a great day.”

Tim says your name, a sigh more than anything. “I told you a week ago to stop calling me sir.”

“Sorry, sir- Tim.”

Tim looks away suddenly, turning his attention to the bags he carried inside while you were walking Kojo.

“Did you even wonder where Kojo was?” you ask.

“No. I know his dog walker is punctual… and a control freak.”

“Planning my day doesn’t make me a control freak!”

“You have it planned to the minute.”

“To accommodate you,” you grumble.

“Yet you won’t let me take you on a date.”

“You won’t ask.”

You fall silent, and when you think you took it too far, Kojo barks and makes you both laugh. Talking to Tim is easy, but no matter how much you love Kojo or think you could be more, you must keep everything in perspective. Tim is older, a police sergeant and you are his college student dog walker.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” you ask, answering your phone and rubbing your eyes as you look away from the computer screen.

“Hey,” Tim says. “I’m so sorry for the late notice but I’m going to be here overnight. Could you-“

“I’ll go over now.”

“Listen, it’s crazy out there right now. If you want to stay there, please do. I don’t want you out more than you have to be.”

“Tim, that’s not necessary.”

“Please. It’s not just for your safety; I’ll feel better knowing that you’re somewhere safe.”

“Okay,” you reply. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m insisting. Kojo is a cuddler, but that’s all you have to fear there.”

“Oh, you should have started with that. Kojo cuddles sound amazing.”

“Long day?”

“Not as long as yours. I’ll text you when I get there. Thank you, Tim.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“See you then.”

The drive to Tim’s house is short, but you hear several police sirens. Whatever they’re dealing with does seem (as Tim put it) crazy. Once you’re inside and the alarm is reset, you collapse on the couch and let Kojo cuddle up to you. You feel weirdly close to Tim, too, probably from being in his house. Falling asleep here is easy; you’re at peace, happy, and cuddled by a warm, loving dog.

✯✯✯✯✯

Waking up is not quite as peaceful. Tim is taking a picture, and when you grunt, he lowers the phone and smiles.

“That’s adorable,” he states.

“I’m quitting,” you murmur, throwing an arm over Kojo.

“You know, he didn’t even come see me when I got home? He’s a cheater, although I can’t blame him. It does look pretty comfortable.”

Ignoring him, you move closer to Kojo.

“Consider this my two hours’ notice.”

Tim chuckles, and the couch dips by your feet as he sits. When you sit up, he’s leaning back with his eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your way so you can rest. Need me to come back later?”

“No, I’m here all day. If you want to stay, you can.”

“I have a paper to finish,” you lament. “But I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” You’re gathering your things when Tim reiterates, “Seriously. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive safe.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s cloudy in Los Angeles, like a bad omen. You’re considering taking Tim’s offer of staying at his house to work. Kojo is the last dog you visit, and you look down at him as he sniffs the base of a streetlight.

“Mind if I stay with you for the rest of the day?” you ask him.

Kojo’s tail wags faster, but he’s still more interested in the light than you.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Kojo picks his head up, continuing toward the corner as you lead him down the sidewalk. You see something move up the road and command Kojo to stop. Unsure if it’s a dog or some other animal, you wait a moment before walking again.

With your attention on the unknown shadow before you, you fail to hear a dog running up behind you. Kojo turns suddenly, and you don’t register what’s happening as you push him out of the way.

Another dog, about Kojo’s size, with no leash or owner in sight, is on top of you. Kojo is barking, trying to help, but you yell at him to stay back.

“Kojo, sit!” you yell over the other dog’s growling.

Your yell turns to a cry of pain when the dog’s jaw clamps down on your arm, his claws digging into your side.

“Get off!” you yell, your adrenaline giving you the strength to push back. 

Once you’re sitting up, you use your legs to free yourself from the dog’s grip. Kojo is behind you, unharmed, and you need to keep it that way. Flipping yourself on top of the dog, it releases your arm before moving its legs wildly, raking a paw across your face as it tries to move away.

“Go!” you yell harshly, moving enough to let it up.

Stomping your foot after it, you show the dog you’re in charge and wait in front of Kojo until it’s out of sight.

“Kojo, we have to go,” you say quickly, grabbing his leash and limping behind him as he leads you home.

Kojo focuses on getting you inside, and when you close the door and fall to the floor, he moves to your side. He whimpers, and you want to comfort him, but you are growing dizzy.

“You okay, boy?” you mumble.

You scream in pain when you raise your hand to check that Kojo is okay. After dropping your arm, your breathing grows shallow as tears stream down your face. Kojo whines again, and you want to reach for your phone, but your arms feel too heavy to move. Looking down, you suddenly realize the severity of what happened. Covered in blood and with no strength to call for help, you whisper an apology to Kojo and let your eyes drift close.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim sighs as he turns onto his street. He’s ready to see Kojo and, if he’s lucky, you. When Tim sees your car in the driveway, he smiles and rushes toward the door. That happiness quickly disappears when he notices the trail of blood leading up the driveway. Walking to the sidewalk, he sees that it leads nearly to the corner. Racing to the backdoor, which has a large blood smear below a clear handprint, Tim keeps a hand on his gun as he unlocks the door.

Kojo’s whimpering greets Tim, and when he looks down, he sees that Kojo has blood on him. Kojo looks over quickly, and Tim follows his movement. Whatever fear he felt when he saw the blood on Kojo is multiplied when he sees you.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tim calls for an ambulance before kneeling beside you.

“Is Kojo okay?” you ask weakly.

“He’s okay,” Tim promises, leaning closer in a poor attempt to find the source of your blood. “What hurts?”

“What doesn’t? Did you check on Kojo? He seemed okay but I couldn’t make sure the blood was mine.”

Tim turns, running his hands all over Kojo. The blood is only on his fur, evidently not his.

“He’s fine,” Tim repeats, his voice breaking at the end. “You are not.”

“There was a dog free running and I- I didn’t see it. Kojo stayed behind me so I need him to be okay.”

Tears are running down your face again, mixing with the blood. Tim wants to wipe them away, but the clear claw mark over your cheek deters him.

“There’s an ambulance on the way, you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. Just stay awake.”

“Kojo- Kojo’s a good boy,” you mumble.

“He is. Can you please keep your eyes on me? The ambulance is almost here.”

You nod, and the last thing you remember is Tim’s apologetic look and a painful pressure on your side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim, are you coming with?” Bailey asks.

Tim is staring at the bloodstain on his floor and up his wall. “I’ll be there soon.”

“We’ll keep you updated. She’ll be okay.”

Tim nods and waits for the EMTs to exit the house before he begins cleaning. He scrubs until every trace of your blood is erased from inside and on the door. After animal control captured the dog, several officers went out to find the dog's owner. Nolan promised to come by and clean the driveway, so Tim concentrated his efforts inside.

“Alright, Kojo, our turn,” Tim calls, letting Kojo into the bathroom to remove the blood from his fur. 

After Tim cleans Kojo and himself and throws away the blood-stained rags and cleaning supplies, he gathers his things to visit you in the hospital.

“I’ll be back with our girl,” Tim promises Kojo as he leaves.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m sorry.” You can’t stop the apology when Tim walks in.

“Stop apologizing. You kept that dog away from Kojo and I don’t- I can’t lose you. I walked in and you were covered in blood… I should have told you before that I care about you.”

“It’s my job to take care of Kojo,” you whisper.

Tim moves to the side of the bed, gently taking your hand. “You are not just a dog walker. I’ve been falling for you since the moment I laid eyes on you. The fact that you love Kojo solidified it for me.”

“I- I have feelings for you too,” you admit.

“They told me your pretty face won’t scar.”

“I barely even remember what happened.”

Tim sits beside your legs as he tells you, “Nolan and Celina arrested the dog’s owner. It wasn’t the first time he had done this.”

“Given a poor, unsuspecting college student thirty stitches while she’s just trying to spend the afternoon in her crush’s house? Oddly specific crime. What’s the code for that?”

Tim chuckles, gently squeezing your hand. “You can go home now. If you’re still up to spend some time in your crush’s house.”

“Tim-“

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to. I want to, need to.”

“I would love to spend time with you and Kojo. But I’m not sure I’m up for flirting today, handsome.”

“After the day you’ve had, just sit back and I’ll do all the flirting.”

“’Preciate that, sir.”

Tim laughs as he exits the room to complete your discharge paperwork. You smile behind him, hoping you’re not dreaming, and you finally told him how you feel.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo,” Tim chides. “Give her some room.”

“You cleaned all the blood?”

Tim gently directs your eyes to him, leaning close to remind you, “You’re more than just a dog walker. Worth the time, the effort, the love, all of it.”

“Love?”

“Yeah. Kojo really loves you.”

You laugh, quickly remembering that you have several stitches on your side.

“Careful,” Tim requests.

“Are you certified to help someone sit still while stitches hold their side closed?” you ask.

“Depends on the patient. You? Absolutely.”

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch before walking to the kitchen to gather some water and snacks. When he returns, Kojo is cuddled up to your uninjured side.

“Really? Again?” Tim asks.

“I love you,” you say, completely distracting Tim as he kneels before you. “But I also think I really want to quit this time.”

Tim laughs, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “That’s fine. I am looking for a girlfriend rather than a dog walker now anyway.”

“Care to see my resumé?”

“Memorized it last time.”

[xazse]

(here is your answer for the naga scara x fem or male reader) DO ANY GENDER IDC IM JUST FOAMING AT THE MOUTH RN LIKE A DOG FOR YOUR POST RIGHT NEOWOOWOWOW NEOWOWOWOWO (I would prefer fem reader, but idc about the gender. Just gimme the story bbg) (Also, stay healthy!1 <3)

Notes: I know I have other requests but this was too tempting, thank you so much for the health comment!! I HOPE YALL ARE STILL AROUND!! Btw I’m not sure about Naga Anatomy so his cocks are like hidden in slits/pockets.

Pairings: Naga!Scaramouche x Fem!NaiveReader

Tags: Naive!Reader, 2 Cocks, Scara is kinda creepy but sweetish, fingering, Virgin!Reader, Sheltered!Reader, Fem!Reader, SMUT, NOT PROOFREAD

Naga Scaramouche who is entranced by the sheltered village girl: you, a pretty thing that won’t stray too far into the forest.

Naga Scaramouche whos very patient watching you from the trees, he watches as the short dress you wear rises up just a few inches when you pick a berry too high for you. The tight white panties seem to hug your ass so good.

Naga Scaramouche who can’t wait to have you underneath him, coiled in his tail and in his embrace.

Naga Scaramouche who finally has the opportunity to attempt to speak with you, you had gotten a little lost when you decide your pickings of berries weren’t up to standard, a lost lamb like yourself practically in tears searching every direction to try to remember where home is.

Naga Scaramouche who introduces himself and you’re scared shitless, you’ve only heard of his kind in the stories your mother would tell you to scare you into being good. He’s big, but you can’t deny how pretty he is, his tail is a deep purple hue as well as his pretty mauve long hair that cascades down his back and stops at his lower abdomen, mentioning that, he’s shirtless.

Naga Scaramouche who offers to lead the pretty lamb to safety, warning you that there’s dangers that would do awful things to such a weak thing like yourself. That he does, leading you safely to the outskirts of your village, during the whole walk you can’t stop stealing glances at the beautiful mystery man. He can hear your parents are calling your name with desperate urgency. You look back at him to offer a thank you, but discover he’s gone.

You who comes back a few days later at the spot he had dropped you off at, you bring a cooked rabbit stew as a gift to give to him or at least hope you can give it. a few minutes later you can hear rustling and a voice speaks up: “A gift? For me perhaps?” You face the man once again in all his beauty you nod quickly and he laughs at that.

Exchanges are had over the next few months, with you listening and talking to “Scaramouche” you learn his name is. He seems rather dodgy with questions about himself but wants you to talk about yourself all the time, you have no issues with it, deciding later on he’d become more open.

Scaramouche looks at you weirdly, a look you can’t quite decipher, it’s like he’s looking through you, and you hate that. You hate how weird and tingly it makes you feel, how you feel weird even down there. You don’t have anyone to talk to about this feeling so it’s bottled up and held in.

Scaramouche makes it subtle at first, glancing at you, making sure to make eye contact even though your eyes dart to avoid his, light touches on your arms, thighs, and neck. He knows what he’s doing to you and he doesn’t feel a bit bad about it, he wants to claim you already, his cock can only be contained for so long, it’s getting harder and harder but he feels a few more pushes will bring you right along.

After a whole week you’ve given up, you come to him with all your issues and how confused and foggy you feel around him, you suggest distancing yourself away from him for a little. He hates that idea you can tell by the dark swirl in his eyes, he calms himself and calms you. Putting his hand on the small of your back he whispers lowly on how he’ll help you, help you get rid of all your problems.

You accept of course, as pliant as ever.

He helps you relax on the forest floor, a beautiful light pouring in to emphasize the glow of his gorgeous tail. He starts by asking you to lift your dress, and you listen obediently. Your supple skin now for him to revel in, but it’s not nearly enough. Your panties are on display as well, the thing seems to be squeezing you just like the last pair. Thin fingers grab one of your thighs and lifts it up in the air in your direction, being mindful to watch his sharp fingernails as they clench around the fat.

He uses the palm of his fingertip to trace the outline of your wet cunt, that makes your breath hitch, his fingers are warm or maybe it’s you who’s warm as he continues to trace and examine you. Scaramouche presses on your clit just a little bit, he’s testing the waters. That does bring out a reaction: you clutch your fingers around the fabric of your dress that you still hold.

You feel impatient even though you’re just getting started, new feelings are swirling in your gut when he lays down on his stomach near your pussy. Scaramouche doesn’t want to rid you of your panties just yet, the wet patch in the middle arouses him so much. He pulls them to the side to reveal your glistening cunt: he’s never seen a humans area before not unless they were in books and he did quite a lot of studying on women’s anatomy but having the real thing makes his cock ache, he wants to be buried deep in you but before that he needs to prep you.

Scaramouche licks a long stride up your cunt from bottom to top, a whine leaves your throat at the new feeling of something foreign but not unwanted, based on your reaction he does it again and again till he’s lapping up a good bit of your cum: and god do you taste heavenly, he finds himself completely entranced with licking you over and over, you aren’t fairing any better with the way your hips have started to buck towards more pleasure. Lewd moans keep filling the forest around you paired with Scaramouches loud sucking, he guides his tongue to your clit, licking around it before completely engulfing the sensitive thing in his mouth.

A tightness is forming in your belly, you urge Scaramouche that something happening and maybe he should slow down, he doubles down and both of his hands are holding your thighs up: pinning you in place as he keeps abusing your poor clit. Your whining gets even more pitched up before you spasm and cum on his face. He takes the opportunity to slide a finger inside of your tight hole: it does prove to be difficult but he does fit about a quarter of one in. He starts up the process of stretching you out to accommodate him.

After a while you’re finally ready, but you can only take about half of him or he’s pretty sure you’d start up your crying. You lay staring at his actions with lust ridden eyes: he’s going to ruin you. His long tail grabs you by your waist, lifting you to sit right on where his cocks lays hidden.

He’s really had enough of edging himself, with your full attention he guides your hands to, two slits: intrigued you make a move to press your finger in and he jumps to grab your hand as fast as possible, you make a certain worried face at him and he shakes his head to reassure you. He decides that was a bad idea and takes his cock out himself, he has two but he doesn’t want to spook you straight away, well more than he already has.

He begins stroking himself while you watch, you lean forward: relaxing your hands on either side of his body. You’re thinking how his cock is just as pretty as him. A low groan slips from his lips, hes stroking himself from his balls to his tip: squeezing just a bit every so often.

When he’s done with that he lifts you up till your cunt is hovering over him, he lines himself up and slides in: a loud moan now leaves both your lips, for you it’s the stretch of his thick tip and for him it’s the tight rim he still has to push past. After a good bit he’s now leaned on a rock while holding your body so you don’t hurt yourself and end up having all of him in you, that’s for later.

A rhythm is developed, with him fucking you only last a certain point, your gooey insides feel so good around him, his head falls against the rock but he doesn’t stop lifting and pulling you back down. His head feels heady with need, he’d love to just shove you down all the way. You aren’t fairing any better, already seeming like you were cum again: dazed and dumb that’s how his cock had you.

Scaramouche thinks this feels better than those nights were he’d pump his cock to the thought of doing you like this, the real thing is so much more better obviously.

He speeds up his pace, angling his cock a tad bit deeper. He pulls out and slams back in, he brings you into a tight embrace before he’s cumming, the feeling of something warm also sending you over and you cream around his cock. Afterwards he’s decorating kisses all over your face, cooing at how perfect you are, how good you made him feel and how good you’ll both feel in the future

[lvrgirlrey]

BSD HCS *̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

⋆꙳•̩̩͙ ❅ *̩̩͙‧͙ ⛇⋆☃︎ ‧͙ *̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: how i think BSD characters would be in a relationship!

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: akutgawa ryuunosuke, osamu dazai, atsushi nakajima

𝔸/ℕ: this is my first actual tumblr post so this might not be my best work :v it was fun making this but it was kinda hard to do it cuz im not really the type of person to make headcanons ;p kudos to the people who can make a bunch of posts in one day! it took me a while just to make this one :,)

ℂ𝕎: this does include NSFW HCS but nothing too crazy! minors proceed with caution!

𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕣𝕪𝕦𝕦𝕟𝕠𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* you were definitely obvious with your hints toward him but started to catch on that you though of him as more than friends

* was so confused when you confessed

* “where did that come from?”

* managed to keep a straight face

* he didn’t want others to know that the two of you were together for at least a month or two

* he is NOT a fan of PDA. no matter the circumstances, he hates PDA always

* would buy you the occasional present like flowers and candy (asked gin for help)

* definitely not the most romantic person; hugs and kisses would feel very foreign to him. he would be okay with just your presence with him

* would never outright ask for something, you would basically have to figure it out on your own

* you’d have to be VERY patient, he’s definitely inexperienced in relationships

* his way of showing affection would be acts of service. buying you tea/coffee, doing chores for you, tending to your injuries after a difficult mission, etc

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* a switch. mostly dominant but will not resist when you top him

* not the highest stamina but will absolutely try his hardest for 3+ rounds (can’t blame him for his lung problems)

* is definitely a thigh guy. you’re wearing a short skirt and thigh highs? expect getting absolutely railed later

* he’s an in between a rough/fast paced quickie and slow/sensual love making kinda guy

* very quiet, almost silent. at most does some very heavy breathing while he’s close

* doesn’t have the biggest sex drive but is an absolute nasty dog if he’s been having a stressful day at work

* loves doggy style

* won’t finish until you’ve finished at least once

* willing to give oral but would need a lot of convincing

* not kinky but is still willing to try (probably won’t enjoy it much)

* for aftercare, he would run you both a hot shower to clean you off and cuddle in bed afterwards

𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕦 𝕕𝕒𝕫𝕒𝕚

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* knew you liked him from basically the beginning

* he gave off every instance where you were so obviously hinting at something

* everyone in the world would know when you guys started dating because he would NOT keep his mouth shut

* “why would i hide the woman i love from the world?”

* the master of PDA

* his hands are all over you 24/7

* physical touch is his love language

* constant flow of gifts, your desk is always overly crowded by them

* talks everyone’s ears off about you

* absolutely worships the ground you walk on

* loves scaring you half to death constantly

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* dominant switch. is ALWAYS in controlled

* the freakiest man alive. kinks, toys, you name it and he’s into it

* an absolute tease. loves laughing on how you look pathetic under him and denies your orgasm so much you nearly pass out

* can go on for round after round after round, 2-3 times a day, 4-5 times a week (this man is an absolute beast)

* a tit man. loves missionary just to see them bouncing for him. just seeing them would make him finish

* loves quickies. before, during, and after missions.

* KNOWS he’s loud. wants you to know how good you make him feel

* spanks. a lot. you can’t sit comfortably after having sex with him

* does NOT play when it comes down to giving oral. is absolutely making you see stars from the moment he starts

* absolutely a “rough and fast” man. constantly hitting the sweet spot every time and will laugh when you ask him to slow down

* aftercare kinda sucks with him.. at most would cuddle after but that’s basically it

𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚 𝕟𝕒𝕜𝕒𝕛𝕚𝕞𝕒

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* ABSOLUTELY clueless. did not know you liked him until you told him to his face

* “oh. OH. IS THAT WHY YOU ___?”

* would be a little closed off and reserved at first but slowly open up to you

* not the biggest fan of PDA but would occasionally give you a quick peck if you really wanted it

* gets you gifts but sometimes they’re not the best (he tried that’s all that matters)

* definitely a quality time kinda guy; going out for a walk/dates are his go-to

* the biggest snuggle bug ever; he’s always cuddled up to you in private. in public he’s just always super close to you to the point that he sometimes get in the way

* always rushing to your aid

* dazai teases him because “he looks like a lost puppy, constantly following you around”

* gets you “just because” flowers

* loves head pats

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* the most switch of all switches. will dom in the middle of you taking charge

* AN ASS GUY. loves doggy style and reverse cowgirl just to see your ass bouncing off his dick

* unaware of how loud he is. will get looks from the other ADA members because of his volume

* tries out different kinds of kinks every time to make sure he finds one that you both enjoy

* wouldn’t enjoy anything that involved hurting you (slaps, spanks, whips, etc)

* on the contrary, LOVES getting his hair pulled. practically begs for you to pull it every time

* is very sensual when it’s dedicated sex time but for a quickie? might as well become the weretiger because of how feral he gets

* an average sex drive. mostly 2-3 times a week

* aftercare is just getting food after he pounded you

⋆⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆ ❆ ⋆∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋆

again, this is my first actual post so please don’t mind any mistakes/errors! thank you for reading :,D



[lilybug-02]

Happy 2 Year Anniversary to The Chara Timeline ✨

I FINALLY made drawing references for you guys, yippie!✨

It’s wild how long I’ve been working on this comic without reference sheets. I’m never that consistent with my art style, so I figured it was a waste of time 🫥💀😔 this is my first full comic okay…

Thoughts and Feelings About the Comic Below ❤️💖💕💞

Wow. It’s been 2 years??? I thought I would be done with this comic in 2 months! I don’t know whether to feel worried or accomplished!!

(With months between each update, I understand why it’s been 2 years. I’m a slow writer and artist and well- many things have come up in my life that had to come first, like my sisters wedding! 💞 and college 😅)

I want to thank my family and friends (WHO DO NOT READ THIS COMIC- THANK GOD) 💕 AND I want to THANK YOU! The readers! 💐💐

You guys are relentless! I’m as impatient as traffic and yet you guys wait for weeks or months at a time for like 4 pages?! You guys don’t even complain!!! I truly want to thank you all for that ❤️ it helps me so much. Being busy and getting burnt out are common and it helps me feel relaxed that i'm not on a timer. Literally tho- you guys keep this comic chugging I swear. Tysm 💐

Unorganized rambling about the comic ahead :) ⭐️🔥

—

My feelings with this comic are actually so complicated. On one hand I hate looking at my older art because GOD IT LOOKS SO OFF I want to stab it, and then on the other hand I am so so proud of myself for even continuing it this far. Ngl the weird route has been one of my favorite parts of this comic. It took me FOREVER to figure out an ending, but damn do I still get chills >:) hehe.

I’m still miffed that I named this project “Deltarune: The Chara Timeline” I could have gone for something so much COOLER. Doesn’t help I use like 7 different titles for it either. We got Deltarune the Chara timeline, Deltarune chara timeline, THE Chara timeline, chara timeline, Ct??? Man,,, I’m crazy. I take after my family so hard. We have 3 names for each of our dogs 💀.

Comic/Animation Tip i have learned. It is VERY GOOD to make the character relatively simple in design. Shape language is also super important, ((but I never really got around to doing that before I was half way through the comic, woops.)) These things can make ur process go by so much faster. This whole comic has been a HUGE learning curve. LIKE OH MY GOD. I had to learn how to draw backgrounds, write dialogue, plan a story, learn how to draw fast and draw noses (which god damn I really still can’t). And I had to learn how the heck to squeeze art into a tiny page and make it not look grainy. It's intense!

Anyways.... this has been such an awesome opportunity! Thanks Toby Fox!

I totally ran out of “art time” for my iPad and wanted to finish this today. So it’s a bit rushed. I’ll add weapons and possibly the other characters later :)

Oh shi- I forgot to add this grainy image of the next few pages lmao

[gofishygo]

price x trans ftm reader who started his transition later in life? like just thinking... they served a tour or two together before reader transitioned. had a little fling going on, potentially on the way towards more. but after whatever mission/tour theyre on is over, reader slowly stops keeping in contact with price.

years down the line, the reunite during some sort of mission. price recognizes readers last name or callsign but the face he's met with is different. this man is happier.

price and reader get to talking in some downtime and decide that once this is all over (the mission they're on), they'll try and take some time together to make up for all the time they'd lost together. and price gets to meet the real you.

[PRIDE MONTH- WEEK ONE] : through green hydrangeas (my heart lies) price x ftm reader (part 1/2)

notes : (somewhat innacurate) descriptions of military, injury, brief outlines of smut (no explicits mentioned), gender dysphoria, reader gets outed towards the end. this may be edited later on.

wc- 1.8k

urzikistan- take down six targets aligned with al quatala, all terrorist backgrounds. a mission where location and timing and team were everything, pointed into maps and plotted into files, handled with fine-cut secrecy, knife-point precision, landed directly into price's aged hands. And now, at the final stretch, he'd been handed a few recruits at his expense. Fought with laswell against them, argued that his team could run through the enemy.

(and by god, how can he focus on the task at hand when he sees the shine in that operator's eyes, the curvature of his face? warm and familiar, the mother's milk suckled by a pup.)

It’s odd, having to work with a man so similar to her. narrowed eyes and sharp teeth, even sharing the same gun hed swore he gifted her- considers for a moment that maybe she’d changed, now baring a different name on id’s and passports, records crossed out and scrawled over. stole her last name as well, and before he’d even met you, he had already considered asking laswell to ship you off to whatever pmc would accept you.

but at the same time, he bites his tongue, wire muzzle to some refectory dog.

you seem to truly be alive, words barked with flame, spilled from your stomach, full-toothed smile instead of the sleazy grin she wore. you are her and aren’t her- and sometimes, maybe, he lets himself think youre better. sweeter. hates the way he still gives you the same greeting as he did to that woman, selfishly using a subordinate to fill out some cavity in his chest. but he can’t have it any other way, doesn’t want to have it in any other way.

a world where slowing down didn’t mean stopping. had a nice ring to it.

-

it's 0400 on the day of deployment. there's brittle crust in the ducts of your eyes that you hadn't been able to wash of in the changerooms, and now you are holding onto gun and hanging onto the sky by plane, listening to the clicks as you load and unload the magazines. missions like these, capture-kills with enemies that outdid your measures of brutality and lived for the beliefs of bloodshed in liberty; they weigh in your chest, some layers of adrenal fear smuggled under the layers of methodical, stoical behaviour. the buzzing headache that never left as a child, the feel of pressure wrapped around crevices of the cerebellum, tightening.

in these plights, you'd used to knock on price's door, hands itching to roll into fist- turning the fear you'd guide like a shepherd into the spit in stout-littered kisses, how you pulled off his clothes like the vulture to a corpse. the way your body moved against his was the nicotine you'd smoke on long nights. it was sickening, at first, how much control that you revelled in, the way that his name had found its place under your tongue. the way that he grabbed at the bone in your hips, worshipping, devotee. taken to his body like addict to a drug, the dissociation between you heart and the fat-filled mounds on your chest washed out by lust. he makes it feel like the ache was never there, that you could scream with the voice that had been trapped beneath high-strung vocal cords, unfortunate biology. and you let yourself beg to god; why, oh god why, why were you given a body at the cost of your life?

but now, navigating through some twisted buildings under the cover of night, clearing rooms in the hotel, you know that you're changed. the revelation behind the woman beneath price's sheets all those years ago, who'd stolen your skin and your eyes and your face- it could cost you your life, could have you shunned and dying like a dog on the streets. and yet, you still hold a weary head up and dream about-

Johnathan price. he still festered in your ribcage, face slipped away into the back of your skull, the bug you'd yet to squish as you drive military blade into an enemy's neck and muffle their mouth through dying thrashes. He nods, gruff sound muted behind mutton chops, murmuring an audible 'clear' through the fizzle of comms. And you let yourself wonder, if maybe those prismarine eyes can find yourself in the body now known as home. (He swears that your smile matches the woman he'd fell for through sparring matches and facebook posts. that old face he'd barely managed to blot out with cigars and whiskey and downed with bourbon and-) your team proceeds down the hallways,

‘all stations on right wing, target four is down. I repeat, target four is down. zero KIA.’ and your mouth quirks up a little. ‘deems that Ghost’s aim still doesn’t fail,” you muse. His eyebrow raises- only slightly- at the tense of your words. still.

“certainly doesn’t,” and you want to drink the strain in his voice until its ache is gone.

another few minutes of clearing the building. the repetitions of breaking open the same doors with the same crowbars, gun peeking through the side of the frame. So similar, practiced in recon and real-world situations, yet never being comfortable, safe. it’s almost automatic at this point, reducing your phycology to nothing more than the gun that you wield- deciding, acting. but looking over at price- the look in his eyes know’s you’d been injured. Bubbling fire deep in your marrow, fear bittering the air around you; foul, unappetising, yet it feels the captain wants to swallow you whole.

-

and now it rips through you- feels like your insides are pouring out, scrap of kidney and intestine pooling out at the starburst entry point. some pained shriek ripped out of your throat. at one point, you waited next to the doorframe of a room, (sixty-four left wing, is it?) and the next, some enemy operator had opened a hole in your stomach.

whatever moment between that is an animated blur, dismal and discoloured where sound pools in your ears instead of song. a captain- your captain, tackling the man to the ground in a double-leg-takedown, throwing down the gun at their side, the high wail of shots fired ringing into your ear while a teammate -the milky white patch on her face makes you assume it might be nova- drags you behind the wall as cover, your teammates taking position to cover for price, but also rip through the inhabitants of the room. and for the first time in the mission, you let fear curdle in your throat alongside the blood clinging to it’s walls, drip into your bloodstream and bury itself into bone. cant tell if the shadow hazing your thoughts is the predecessor death or subdued panic finally breaking though it’s confines . and you find it bitter, stupid, wholly in your heart, that even as your stomach spills onto the floor of a home that wasn’t yours, that part of your brain still festers. a possibility that the only man who could make your heart beat- john price, and his affair with the woman who’d stolen your soul and locked it behind flesh. Letting out some bitter laugh, feeling blood trace your lips whilst some stray bullet manages to hit the skull of an enemy, heard by the ungodly gurgle and tear of bullet through flesh, confirmed by the hum of your comms. “target two on left wing down, one broken-” price, now next to you, lets hard eyes settle against your form, dying star. “-seems to need medic.” another voice fizzles to life on the radio- laswell’s, you presume. “team delta, split to d1-d2. d1 continue to clear left wing, d2 head to rendezvous point.”

you can only really groan, blood bubbling to your throat when price hauls you to face his side, hissing out some curse as you hold shaky hand to where the blood seems to be leaking from. “easy there soilder-“ john grunts, wrenching your hand out of the way with a firm grip- a bear gripping her cub the scruff of it’s neck, holding it so tenderly between her teeth. one of your other teammates- cant identify them, head too filled up with adrenaline filled cloud and the haze to blood loss to register their shape- seems to toss over a roll of bandages. and if you had breath left, you would have barked out some half-assed remark about how strategically awful it was to tear off the gear and pull off the shirt of your uniform, but the nerves of the paled scars below your chest being revealed to cold air had your mouth shut, jaws locked, like wired muzzle to a dog. trying not to choke on the blood and jerk away when his eyes meet the placement of the wound.

it's diasporic, shaped like a dying star above you tattoo you’d had engraved deep into your dermis all those years ago. the 141’s old symbol- jagged sword without the skull, olive branches extending through its frame. a part of you far more distinctive, more tolerable to remember than thought of the girl who had decided to have it etched into her skin. And now your captain can see both of those on you- in you- and shamefully, you let lurid fear bite into you, thoughts snapping with teeth, breaking down the glass bars that composed the cage you made. Price may never kiss that tattoo again during the long nights, now look at the memories you’d made with a lens tinted by hatred. “nice to put a name to the face,”

he murmurs, wrapping the bandage to compress the wound, once, twice, thrice around your waist. Hauls your arm around his shoulder and begins the trek to the rendezvous point. one arm was pressed just above where he knew your tattoo rested, no mind to whatever blood trickles in the cracks of his fingers. “ill see you back at burningham, love,” its like your submerged in water now, eyes blurry with seawater and ears deafened by the tide filling their crevices. with the last of your energy, you tug yourself towards price, fingers tangled in his, doubling over and feeling the bandages settle under the layer of fat and muscle on your ribs. letting yourself dream of him for what seems to be your last time, fingers tangled together, pretending that your gasps for air were nothing more than laughter echoes against crashing waves on british shores, letting fresh saltwater air tangle you hair and travel your windpipe.

by the time the captain scoops you up, you’re far too deep in oceanwater, back against rocky seafloor. “stand strong, soldier,” and even through his gruff voice, you still notice the way it almost begs, song of prayer tucked away deep in his voicebox . some words he had hidden. price pulls you closer with his arm, fingers clawed and desperate, and the world crashes against you all at once.

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ SUBSTITUTE BIG BROTHER. platonic pm!dazai & reader !

synopsis. dazai is reduced to his lowest form: babysitter for chuuya's sibling. contents. PLATONIC. chuuya's younger sibling!reader. gn!reader. they/them pronouns used. fluff. 1.9k words. notes. dazai gets some fluff, as a treat. and as an apology for the amount of pain i am putting him through with the next thing in my drafts. ALSO this is an old, completed draft and was my first time writing dazai so apologies for any mischaracterization.

“You’re kidding me.” Dazai said dryly, staring at the kid before him. They met his gaze with a fiery glare, daring him to continue.

“Do you have something to say?” they snapped. Dazai raised an eyebrow. “Go on, spit it out.”

“I’m only wondering how that yappy little dog’s precious sibling managed to escape their kennel,” Dazai hummed, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards as they began to protest. They sounded just as furious as their brother; the resemblance amused him immensely. “Aren’t you supposed to be… anywhere but here?”

The question was out of courtesy more than anything; Dazai knew the answer very well. Chuuya was tight-lipped about almost every aspect of his life that wasn’t intertwined with the Port Mafia, but his sibling was one detail that Dazai had managed to squeeze out. It wasn’t voluntary, mind you. It was more that Chuuya was explaining his life before the Mafia to Kouyou during one of their evenings drinking tea together, and Dazai had started eavesdropping at the right moment.

When he casually dropped their name during a conversation a week later, Chuuya has gone still for only a moment, before shoving him against the nearest wall and holding a knife to his throat.

“How the fuck do you know about them?” Chuuya had hissed.

Dazai wheezed, for once caught off guard. He’d been expecting Chuuya to react emotionally, but the idea that he would resort to murder within seconds had somehow slipped his mind. “Perhaps Chuuya shouldn’t leave the door open if he doesn’t want his conversations being overheard. I’m sure Ane-san would agree, it was her conversation too.”

Chuuya turned white. His grip loosened, and Dazai slipped away from his grasp. “Shit.”

“Mhm!” Dazai said in a singsong voice, readjusting his collar. “So, tell me about them. How old are they?”

“I’m not talking to you about them, you bastard.” Chuuya tucked his knife away, shoving past Dazai with far more force than was necessary.

“Oh, come on,” Dazai whined childishly, but there was a dark glint in his eyes. “Would you prefer to talk to Boss about them?”

Chuuya’s face turned the prettiest shade of red. “You wouldn’t dare—”

“Of course, Chuuya wouldn’t keep such a key detail of his life hidden away for no reason.” Dazai interrupted. “And maybe I could find it in myself to omit said detail when the Boss questions me about where he’s been disappearing to, for a price, of course—”

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” Chuuya scoffed. “Fine. I’ll owe you a favour, and in exchange you do not breathe a word of their existence to anyone. They don’t exist to you, got it?”

Even when trying to appear confident, there was still a note of anxiety in his tone. The mere mention of his sibling was enough to rattle him, it seemed. Dazai paused for a moment, letting Chuuya stew in his restlessness.

“Well? Do we have a deal, asshole?”

He agreed. He wouldn’t tell a soul about [Name], and Chuuya would postpone smothering him in his sleep until he had reasonable cause. Their little secret, Dazai called it—as if anything could stay secret from the Boss for long.

One of the prerequisites for making sure the Port Mafia never knew of their existence, was ensuring that they took careful steps to prevent contact with members of said Port Mafia. An easy way for that to be guaranteed was to avoid any and all places associated with the Mafia, to minimise the chances of bumping into any unsavoury types that might consider their relation to Chuuya to be a weakness to exploit.

All this to say: the last place they should be was right in the middle of Port Mafia territory.

Dazai sighed. “Chuuya will be mad that you’re here, you know.”

“Who even are you?” they asked, in lieu of an answer.

“I’m hurt!” he gasped, grasping at the front of his shirt like a Victorian woman clutching her pearls. “Is Chuuya so cruel that he never mentions his own partner?”

“Are you Dazai?” they asked, wrinkling their nose at him. “Chuuya won’t shut up about you. He thinks you’re really annoying.”

“Oh, the feeling is mutual.” He laughed. “What else does he say about me? Does he tell you about how I can shoot a gun better than he ever will? How one touch from me renders his ability useless? How I’ve beat him in every round of arcade games we have ever played together?”

“He actually said you were big-headed, but I think I could have gathered that myself.” They said dryly.

“Tch. Such a mean dog, spreading lies about me.” Dazai complained, but his mind was elsewhere. He eyed the rumpled state of their clothes and dark circles around their eyes. If they were desperate enough to ignore their brother’s warning to keep away while he was working, the matter must be urgent, and Dazai knew Chuuya would bite his head off if he left them alone in such a dangerous place.

“Why don’t we wait for your brother somewhere nicer than here?” Dazai suggested. “I know a place that isn’t too far, that we both frequent.”

“Am I being kidnapped?” They asked warily.

“Why would I want to kidnap someone as unpleasant as you?” Dazai scrunched his nose up at the thought. “Besides, I’m supposed to be helping keep your existence on the downlow. That becomes difficult if everyone in the Port Mafia catches wind of a strange young person asking for Chuuya.”

“They won’t,” they said, but their voice was doubtful.

Dazai turned, tucking his hands in his pockets and walking back the way he’d come. “Come on. It’s not a long walk.”

The lights and sounds of the arcade were a dull comfort on Dazai’s senses. A chime of the bell above the door greeted them both when they entered, the cashier looked up and gave them a nod.

“Have you been here before?” Dazai asked, and they shook their head. “Excellent! As your benevolent guide, I will be happy to show you around.”

“I thought we were waiting for my brother?” They squint at him suspiciously.

“Of course, but we might as well have fun while we're at it.” Dazai steered them over to the corner to the best machine in the arcade, the game that him and Chuuya had a running bet on who could beat.

It was a basic side-scrolling hack-and-slash game, with only four controls and very simple graphics. What made it stand out was not the game itself, but how infamously hard it was. The first few levels were easy, but once the game deemed the player had an adequate understanding of the controls and how the game worked, it would increase in difficulty until the player was left in an aggravatingly high-speed bullet hell that took an inhuman amount of dexterity to defeat.

There were 100 levels in total. Dazai—who had his initials permanently at the top of the high score board—had only manged to get past level 96.

“This is the best test of skill that this arcade offers.” Dazai slid a token into the machine and he was met with a title screen he had seen many times before. The tinny music came out of the speakers, cheerfully announcing the name of the game. The player character appeared—a little red and black silhouette of a person—as well as the first enemy.

“It's deceptively simple—”

Jump. Punch. Slide. Dodge.

It was a pattern, muscle memory that had settled into his fingers. His movements were precise and measured and not a second off the mark.

“—But it gets difficult.”

Jump. Dodge. Punch. Slide.

He was close. So close.

“If you just—”

Dodge. Punch. Slide. Dodge.

Level 97 appeared across the screen—the highest he’d ever gotten before.

“—Keep going...”

Dodge. Dodge. Slide. Punch—

Game over.

“...Ugh.”

Dazai slumped in his seat, miserably entering his initials into the high score again. Chuuya would be cursing his name if he knew that he had managed to once again overtake him, but he could hardly savour the thought when he wasn't there to witness it.

With a sigh, Dazai glanced over to [Name] beside him. They were watching the screen, but their foot was tapping against the ground in an uneven rhythm, and they were picking at the edges of their nails without even seeming to realize it.

The anxiousness had set in again, it seemed. Dazai cleared his throat. “Do you want to try?”

“...Alright.”

Somewhere between the first and twelfth round of games, he’d sent a short message to the contact in his phone labelled ‘Slug’.

come to the arcade. i have a surprise :P

And when that message was left on read, Dazai decided to clarify further with a second.

the surprise is [name] by the way.

By the time their thirteenth round finished and [Name] left to use the restroom, the doors were slamming open and a familiar person with red hair and wild eyes burst in. He scanned the room, locating Dazai’s bandaged self easily heading straight for him.

“Where are they?” he hissed, turning back and forth like they would appear beside him when he wasn’t looking.

“Who? I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about?” Dazai asked innocently, as if he had done anything innocent in a long time.

“Don’t mess around! Where the fuck is—”

“Chuuya.” A voice dripping with relief cut right through Chuuya’s rising yell. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“[Name]!” Chuuya spun around, the tension melting from his stance as he saw them. “Where were you? I got home and you weren’t there.”

“I was looking for you.” They glanced over to Dazai, and lowered their voice. The rest of their exchange was muffled under the sounds of beeping and chimes from the arcade machine. Throughout it, Dazai stood frozen watching the pair.t

“We’re leaving,” Chuuya said, after what felt like hours of whispering. “…Thank you for looking out for them today.”

“You thank me like I did it out of the goodness of my heart,” Dazai said with a laugh. “That’s one more favour Chuuya owes me now.”

“Bastard. See if I ever thank you for anything again.” Chuuya growled, turning on his heel and pulling his sibling along with him.

Dazai watched the pair leave, his eyes lingering on their retreating forms. It was unsettling how easily they molded to fit the other’s company; the way Chuuya unconsciously matched his steps to theirs, the way the tension melted from their shoulders the moment they laid eyes on him. Even the tone of Chuuya’s voice softened when he addressed them, which was a sight that Dazai didn’t think he was capable of.

Was this family? Did Dazai act this way long ago when he had a relatives of his own? He could hardly fathom reaching such a closeness with anyone, let alone a family. Was he even capable of such a thing, being the broken, shell of a being he was?

Dazai shook his head, ridding himself of the trivial thoughts clouding his mind. When he left, he left alone.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[babygirl-riley]

The Riley’s

You surprise a new Riley in the family.

“He’s a four legged tracking machine.”

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Warnings: swearing and fluff

You couldn’t resist, you were alone for two months now. Which is pretty normal for how Simon’s job is. So you went to a couple of shelters, animal shelters. Originally it was to check out what type of dogs were out there. Simon and you talked about it before, that if there was a dog present that it would not be some small yappy one.

Simon hated the small dogs, thought they were to tiny and he could squash them by accident when walking around. Which was fair, he was a large man in stature. So just looking for ideas wasn’t suppose to have the end goal you got.

It was a loud shelter many dogs barking and howling. It broke your heart to see them, some were cowering in the corner others up against the fence. You would look at the names Sparky, Jack, Velma, Cupcake. Really odd names. However there was one that made you stop in your tracks.

Riley. You looked into the cage to find a German Shepard, at first he was cautious on when you stopped. Glaring and still. “He used to be a military dog actually,” The woman said behind you. “We might have to put him down soon cause he is getting aggressive.”

You smiled and turned to her. “Can I walk him?”

She stared at you for a minute and shook her head. “I don’t know he isn’t for sale.”

You chuckled. “No worries just one walk and if he snaps then don’t worry about it.”

The lady shrugged and walked to grab a leash. You turned back to the dog who still hasn’t moved. Just staring, you kneeled down and looked at him. Tried to read his eyes. Curious was behind them yet cautious at the same time. “Hey bud,” You whispered. “It’s alright, I’m here to take you home.”

The dog stared unsure before sitting down waiting until the door opened. You watched as the lady cautiously took the dog and handed the leash to you. You grabbed it and he walked with you, he was next to you the whole time. When you looked at him he would look away but when you didn’t he sniffed you.

It reminded you of Simon, cautious and curious. When you both started to date Simon was standoffish yet caring at the same time. You knew nothing of him until damn near 2 years of the relationship. Didn’t know his family was killed until marriage. You could tell how similar the personality between Simon and Riley really was. You guess that’s what the military can do to you. Give you horrible things to twist your mind into think no one is trusted.

Not once for the hour you were with him he was aggressive. You pulled the lady aside and talked about taking him home. She explained that he doesn’t like children or other pets. Luckily for him neither of those were there, she explained that the personality would come out and she expected for him to be back.

You negotiated and bought him, he followed you to the car, hopping in normally. The drive home was nice, he sat and watched the world go by. “Ya know your new dad is military,” You spoke looking over for Riley to be laying down. “You two will get along just fine.”

Riley was to himself a lot of the time, you would feed him and taking him for walks. He wasn’t loving at first until 2 weeks later. He would play with you and cuddle up to you when it was time for bed. Would growl if he felt someone was too close to you when walking. Eventually you tested to see how trained he was. Learned he knew the basic things but also knew how to do protection tricks.

Simon didn’t expect when he pulled home to hear a deep growl at the door when putting his keys in. He wanted to surprise you if being home early, Simon even checked if it was the right house. The growl was deep, a warning. It was dark out, late very very late. So maybe he was hearing things, it wasn’t until he heard you tell something to sit.

“Simon!” You yelled swinging in for a hug. He hugged you back but all he could see is that dog. The dog that was glaring at him for a moment.

“What’s that?”

You turned smiling before biting down on his lower lip. “So I got lonely,” You stated walking over to Riley petting his head. “I wasn’t going to buy a dog but something ironic happened.”

Simon watched as the dog scooted closer to you. Still cautious of him, Simon was just a big man, he rarely wore his mask at home. Takes it off in his truck unless he was extremely tired. “What is it?” He said again.

“His name is Riley.”

Simon was shocked, you were joking, there is no way his name was that. That would be very strange and interesting. “Really?”

You nodded and grabbed his dog tag and his name was engraved. He was a beautiful dog. He walked up to the dog, at first the dog froze then sniffed his hand. Simon let it do whatever as he growled lowly before walking away. You sucked in your lips. “He will get used to you.”

Simon hoped it would be awful to have a pet that tolerated him. For the couple of weeks he was there, Riley slowly got closer to him. Riley followed him everywhere, bathroom, back hard when mowing, on the side of his bed. All of it. Hell Riley would watch football with Simon.

Riley and Simon started to do more training. Taught him how to search, would hide little things of yours, eventually you as Riley searched. Slowly Riley would leave with Simon to the base, slowly would not be at home.

You rolled your eyes humorously. “He hated you.”

Simon scoffed. “He was shy.”

You laughed placing the noodles on each plate. You frowned. “You promise you both come back safe? Intact?”

Simon frowned as well. He knew how you felt when you both talked about what would Riley do, stay at home. That was your only thing, he didn’t need to go out and fight anymore. He did it when he was younger. However Riley has been anxious been doing things that Simon noticed that the other canines would do. Especially when they retired.

Price watched Simon and Riley together on the base. Riley was a good tracking dog and really good at attacking as well. So Price pulled Simon aside and asked how he felt about Riley joining 141. Simon said he would love to but he would have to ask the Misses.

At first you walked away from him, angry of course. Simon knew not to follow you, that he got you that upset to retreat to the bedroom. So he waited. Until you came out and asked what Riley would do. He explained that he would only go on missions that needed the enemy to be found. Capture or kill.

You would listen sit and made tea for both of you as you both negotiated on what would happen. You sighed again. “It would only be for those missions. Some I will know ahead some I won’t. Just like normally.” Simon explained holding her hands. “Ya seen him. He walks around the house like he needs something. He just got into the planets last week.” Simon explained.

You looked outside remembering him bringing in a whole bush of flowers. Dirt and a fucked up backyard. Riley would start destroying things after one paw of his stepped into the base. He wanted more. Needed more. More energy. You frowned looking down at Riley. Riley wagged his tail looking up at you.

“Dogs don’t need to fight the wars Si.” You whispered petting Riley.

Simon nodded his head. “I agree lovie, unfortunately he has already been trained it wouldn’t be his firs’. He would be a good asset.”

You watched as Riley licked your hand. Like he was reassuring you, like he was telling you it was fine. “Alright, only for those missions. But I next time Simon I am getting a yippy and you can’t do shit.”

Simon shook his head chuckling lowly. “No I don’t think so sweethear’”

Simon thought you were kidding but three months later, you brought home a tiniest dog. Yorkie of all dogs. Simon now knows not to take the dogs with him to base. Well Riley fell in love with the little bugger. Eventually Simon did as well having both dogs near him.

You came home from grocery shopping and while walking in you saw the dogs and him sleeping. Riley laid at the end of his feet while Hallie laid on his chest. You scoffed, pulling out your phone, clicking the picture. You smiled as you sent it to Price stating you will have a drug locator too.