#this is probably part of why im still a bit insane about my ex

[artemisbarnowl]

Me, when in the small city where I live: "20 mins to work is TOO LONG"/this place is SMALL and nothing should be more than 15 mins away"

Me, visiting Melbourne: "if I do not get this hot chocolate (one hour away) my life is meaningless and empty"

[cinnaminsvga]

Harana | Jungkook

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

→ summary:

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

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

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

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

It’s worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Painfully and pathetically you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pause. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you hear him before you see him. 

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Not anymore.)

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

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

“What’s it about this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you do know, the universe responds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, and seal your fate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door. 

[fandomfix13]

Get Him Back - Rafe Cameron 18+

* HI ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT IM HERE NOW

* TBH THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT SO BARE WITH ME

* This is so super long and also completely filthy at parts SO MDNI and pls read warnings

* little bit of fluff? Def some pretty smutty smut. This did not start out as smut but here we are

* WRITTEN IN Y/N’s POV, lots of dialogue

*anything in italics is your inner monologue

Word count: 4K

WARNINGS: MDNI!, mentions of cheating (not rafe), toxic ex,  oral (giving and receiving), fingering, rough-ish??, p in v sex, hair pulling, light choking??, not rated e for everyone

The rain is pouring down in sheets. Falling harder than it has in a while. My head is pounding from holding back tears, that I might as well let out. I never thought that I would be in this situation. Forced out of my boyfriend's car after a fight at nearly one in the morning, with a dead phone, left to walk home alone in the pouring rain. How cliche. Not to mention the fact that I’m just over three miles away from home. What a dick. Some “man” he is to leave me like that. For all he cares, I could be kidnapped out here. However, it's highly unlikely being that I’m wandering in one of (if not the nicest) neighborhoods in this entire state. Constantly guarded by a neighborhood watch, with gated community after gated community.

 I can see the the sharp rain plummeting down in the glow of the street lights. Unlucky for me, the wind has picked up too making this walk even more miserable. At this point, I have two options; 1. I could continue to walk home in this miserable weather OR 2. I could lose all dignity and show up to Sarah’s house after not talking to her in months. Seeing as this storm is showing absolutely no sign of stopping, its looking like the second option is better. As I turn the corner, I approach the Seabrook Gated Community. A little ways down is the fence that Sarah and I used to hop all the time when we would sneak out. That’s my in. It’s an old rusty fence that is hidden behind some overgrown hedges behind some wildly overpriced house that rarely ever has anyone living in it.         

After nearly slipping off of the slippery fence, I make my way down the street to Tanny Hill. Mentally preparing myself for the absolute humiliation that will occur if Sarah opens the front door. We had our falling out about 3 months ago and we haven't spoken since. We have tried our best to avoid each other at all costs. At least I’ve tried avoiding her, that is, until this very moment. 

As I approach the front lawn, I genuinely consider turning around and quite literally braving the storm and walking home. As it is, I’m already soaked from head to toe and probably on the verge of pneumonia. However, I shake off my thoughts and walk towards the front door. I knock three times in hope that someone will hear. I don’t ring the doorbell out of fear of waking up the entire Cameron household which is the last thing I need to do. After a few seconds, nobody answers. This house is huge maybe they are coming. I convince myself that nobody is answering the door so I turn accepting my fate and I walk away. Suddenly, I hear the front door unlock and my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear his voice. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” Fuck. Me.

“Hey Rafe.” I choke out. God I probably look insane.

“What are you doing here?” he looks at his phone “at 1:26 in the morning.”

“Um. Is Sarah home?” I spit out, trying to avoid conversation.

“She’s not…but I am.” He leans against the door frame looking me up and down in a ‘you good?’ way. “You also didn’t answer my question.” He adds.

“I uh…I didn’t know where else to go.” I say quietly. I was right. This is in fact humiliating. He just stands there and stares at me. Clearly unamused at the fact that I still haven't answered his question as to why I am standing on his front porch looking like a wet dog. I would stare too. “Are you gonna let me inside? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me in silence.” I add.

“That depends.” He says lookin back into the house then back at me. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Or are you just gonna avoid the question.” Touche. We stand here in silence for a moment as he watches me get pelted in the face by the rain and I chatter my teeth. He finally pushes the door open further and gestures for me to come inside. Thank go Sarah isn’t home because I would be shitting myself out of embarrassment right now. I walk in and Rafe opens a hallway in the closet as he reaches in and grabs a towel that he throws at me. “If You get anything wet, Rose will lose her shit.” 

“How kind.” I say with strong notes of sarcasm.

“Hey I didn’t have to let you in. I could've just left you outside on your own.” he’s right.

“Well you wouldn’t be the first guy to leave me outside tonight, so I probably would’ve been fine” I blurt out without thinking. What happened to me tonight is none of his business. Plus I’m sure he will hear about it anyway. However, he did let me inside which he did not have to do, so I could at least pretend to be grateful. 

“Damn. That's rough. Sorry about that.” he almost sounded embarrassed.

“No, it's fine. Thanks for the towel.” he nods and sits down at the kitchen counter. We stand in silence for a bit as I ring my hair out into the sink. This couldn’t be more awkward. Here I am standing in my ex best friend’s house with her older brother, who was in fact my first kiss in a game of truth or dare years ago, and who happens to be the best friend of my boyfriend who just dumped me on the side of the road in the middle of the night. This is just grand. “Do you have a phone charger? My phone is completely dead.” 

“Uh yeah its upstairs. Do you wanna-” he cut himself off before speaking again. “Do you just wanna come up with me so you can change?” Right. So. Apparently this absolutely CAN  feel more awkward. Whatever. I need to charge my phone and honestly a change of clothes sounds devine. I silently follow Rafe up the stairs and into his room. “If you want you can take a shower to warm up. Your teeth haven’t stopped chattering since you got here.” he’s being frighteningly nice. 

“Um sure.” I say hesitantly as I am incredibly confused by his nice attitude. I plug in my phone and Rafe hands me one of his old t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts that were surely left here by some random girl, but honestly I don’t care. I have to get out of these clothes. “Thanks.” I say taking the clothes and entering his bathroom, closing and locking the door quickly behind me. Literally what the fuck. There is no way this is really happening. 

I take my time in the shower as I let the steaming hot water warm me up for a while. When I’m done, I put on the clothes that Rafe gave me, and open the bathroom door seeing him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey Topper called you like five times when you were in the shower.” He says unfazed. My attitude shifts almost immediately. 

“You didn’t answer it did you?” I blurt out. Nice job y/n! That wasn’t suspicious at all!

“No…why would I?” he laughs clearly confused as I let out a sigh  of relief. Once again. Awkward silence. I take a seat on the edge of the bed going through my phone. “Are you gonna call him back?” he asks. Before I could answer him, his phone starts to ring. Toppers name is displayed on the screen. Rafe looks at his phone, then back to me, then back to his phone. 

“I am NOT here. Answer it. Put it on speaker.” I say frantically. Now he's intrigued.

“Hey Top!” Rafe answers. “Rafe! I fucked up man. I fucked up BAD! I’m coming over. I need a drink asap.” I am immediately shaking my head and mouthing ‘no’. “Top I can’t tonight man. My dad is on my ass and if Rose finds out I have someone over, I’m dead bro.” Is he seriously helping me right now? 

Topper scoffs on the other line. “Since when have you given a shit about what Rose thinks? I’m already on my way!” 

“Then turn around and go home man. I can’t tonight.”

“What is up with you dude? You never turn down a drink” its silent for a minute “Oh shit do you have a chick over right now?” Im disgusted at the change in tone in Top’s voice when he  brings up Rafe having a girl over.

“Yeah bro I do. And she’s alone right now in my bed so I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow.” Rafe responds, very quick to go along with Topper’s question.

“That’s my man!” Topper laughs “is she hot? She better be hot!”

Even Rafe rolls his eyes at Topper’s comment. “Yeah she’s hot. Okay gotta go man.” Rafe responds as he hangs up the phone. Is that true, does he think I’m hot? I don’t care. Do I?

I let out a huge sigh of relief that we dodged the bullet of Top showing up here. 

“So. Are you gonna tell me why I just had to lie to my best friend?”

I shift nervously. “Well technically you didn’t lie. There is a ‘chick’ here and she is sitting on your bed.” I try to make a joke avoiding this conversation at all costs. 

“Y/n.” He says, raising his eyebrows. He clearly wants an answer. 

“I broke up with Top and he didn’t take it well.” I say on an exhale. He doesn’t say anything because he’s not stupid. He has probably figured out that much already. I let out a heavy sigh. “He kicked me out of his car in the middle of the road three miles away from my house in the fucking rain because I accused him of cheating on me. He told me that I had no idea what I was talking about. He said I was crazy, and that I was making shit up. But I’m not. I know for a fact that I’m not. It’s not the first time either. He’s done it before, which I’m sure you already know since you’re his best friend and he probably tells you everything.” I make that realization as I’m rambling my story out to him. Rafe is probably well aware of Topper’s lack of loyalty. 

“I uh. I knew about it the first time.” He admits. His honestly with the situation makes me laugh a little as I roll my eyes.

“Of course you did. Being that it was with your sister. I’d be shocked if you didn’t know.” The look on Rafe’s face instantly changes. It’s almost like he’s holding something back. “Unless…Sarah wasn’t the first girl was she. There was someone else.” Tears that I have been pushing back for weeks start to well in my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but because I’m furious. Even Rafe doesn’t know what to say. Without thinking, I grab my wet clothes and my barely charged phone, and head towards his bedroom door. “I should go. Thanks for the shower and-” 

“Y/n don’t be ridiculous” he says quickly following me. “You can’t leave right now that storm is getting worse” He puts his hand on the door, shutting it. 

I turn and he is standing close enough to me to create an odd sort of tension. 

“Why don’t you get him back?” Rafe suggests as I roll my eyes.

“I don’t want to get back with him Rafe I’m so ov-” he cuts me off.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I mean get him back. As in revenge.” he says as he steps closer to me. Jesus Christ I’m an absolute idiot.

“Revenge…right.” I laugh awkwardly. He continues to inch closer, creating an even bigger amount of tension. Not that tension is an unfamiliar thing with Rafe and I. There has always been a weird tension between us. Ya know…the whole best friends brother thing. I’ve known Rafe for almost 10 years. Something about his cocky attitude has always been attractive to me. Call it toxic. I don’t care. It’s just the truth. Rafe and I are standing right infront of each other. He is towering over me as my back is still to the door. 

“You know…They say that one of the best ways to get over a guy is to get under another.” He almost whispers while moving my hair out of my face. I can’t help but blush. The thought of getting back at Topper crossed my mind the second he cheated on me. The thought of getting back at him by hooking up with his best friend? That’s even better. Rafe leans down and starts to kiss my neck. “Rafe we probably shouldn’t do this” I whisper clearly enjoying it.

“Of course we shouldn’t. But I do shit that I shouldn’t do all the time.” He stops kissing my neck to look me in the face.

“Me too” I nod letting out a breath as I crash my lips onto his. The kiss is instantly filled with an insane amount of intensity. Rafe backs me up against the wall as he deepens the kiss. He moves from my mouth to my neck, leaving hickeys all over. He is making sure that I can’t hide what we are doing. And I’m totally here for it. His hands move from my hair, to my hips, to underneath the hem of my shirt. Well. Technically his shirt. I’m braless since my bra got soaked in that rain earlier. He quickly realizes this as his hand grazes over my tits. He starts to grip them while kissing me, making me moan softly until he stops for a second. 

“As hot as you look in my shirt…it’s coming off” he nearly growls. I lift my arms as he lifts the shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I reach for his shirt to take it off. Once he takes it off his mouth is back on mine. Our foreheads are pressed together as our bare chests are rising and falling against each other. He hoists me up, grabbing my ass as I throw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. We don’t last long against the wall before we move to the bed.

He lays me down on the edge of the bed as he hovers over me kissing me yet again. Each kiss gets more aggressive. We bite each other's lips between kisses. He moves his mouth from my lips to my neck leaving more marks. Slowly, he makes his way to my chests. The marks he makes get darker and darker. He puts his mouth over my nipple, making me moan as he slightly bites down. He quickly moves his hand up to cover my mouth.

“Shhh. Baby we gotta stay quiet.” He says as he moves from one nipple to the other. I moan into his hand as he stifles the sound that comes out. His hand moves from my mouth to my throat as he wraps his hand around it lightly. His lips meet mine again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” holy shit. I moan into our kiss as his hand is on my throat. His hand travels down my body until its hovering over my shorts. He’s moving his hand from one thigh to the other. Barely grazing the spot where I need him the most. I breathe into our kiss as his hand stops at the waistband of my shorts. He’s such a fucking tease. He hovers his hand there for a minute sensing that I want more. 

“Oh my God Rafe” I moan out of anticipation.

“You want more baby?” he smirks against my lips.

“You know I do” Smartass.

“Say less” he moves from his position above me, to kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down, revealing my bare pussy. He pulls me closer to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs in one swift motion, causing my breath to hitch. He leans down and attaches his mouth to my clit. This of course causes another accidental moan to slip from my mouth. I immediately throw my own hands over my mouth to quiet the noise. His tongue is swirling circles over my clit as he inserts two fingers without warning. As hard as I am trying to stifle my sounds, nothing could stop the groan that I let out at this moment. He moves his fingers at a faster pace that matches what his tongue is doing. 

“Holy Shit Rafe.” I whine.

“You like that?” he smirks up at me. I nod and roll my eyes to the back of my head before shutting them tightly. But suddenly Rafe stops. “Open your eyes y/n. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to see who is making you feel this good.” I do as he says and open my eyes as I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view. “Atta girl” He smirks before burying his face into me yet again. He adds a third finger as I throw my head back while remaining eye contact. He curls his fingers as he eats me out and I want to scream at the pressure building up inside of me. I reach forward and tangle my fingers through his hair as he grins up towards me. 

“Rafe! Oh my God” I let out a string of other soft noises and words.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for me,” I look Rafe in the eyes as I jerk my hips and arch my back, completely unraveling in front of him. As he removes his fingers from inside of me, he brings them up to my mouth. “I want you to see how good you taste.” he says as I take his fingers into my mouth until they are clean. He removes his fingers from my mouth and laces his hands through my hair as he devours me with a kiss. 

“That was incredible.” I breathe heavily.

“Oh we aren’t done yet princess.” the sound of him calling me princess was enough to nearly send me over the edge again. 

“I’d hope not” I tangle my tongue with his as he deepens the kiss by pulling my hair back. I reach for his pants and I undo his belt. 

“Eager are we?” he scoffs, pulling away for a moment. He removes his belt and  his pants. Leaving his boxers for me to remove. I gesture for him to sit on the edge of the bed where I just was. When he sits, I climb onto his lap, straddling him over his boxers. I can tease too. I lean in kissing him as I slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap. I can feel him getting harder by the second. To be honest this is doing just as much for me as it is for him. I start to kiss his neck, leaving marks similar to the ones he left on me. I start to rock faster back and forth until he is letting out moans the way I was. I cover his mouth.

“I thought we had to stay quiet.” I give him a sly smile before kneeling on the floor and removing his boxers. I come face to face with his cock as I run my tongue up the side, looking up at him while I do it. I move my tongue to the other side slowly, taking my sweet time. 

“Fuck y/n” Rafe groans as he places his hand in my hair. 

I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock and start to suck slowly, using my hands to work the rest that I can’t fit in my mouth. I bob my head up and down while I look up at him, my eyes are starting to water. He grabs my head and slightly pushes me down further, and I can feel his tip hit my throat. When it does Rafe lets out a deep moan with a mumbled string of “oh fucks”. After a few minutes, I can sense that he is going to cum. I don’t bother asking where he wants to finish before he finishes in my mouth. I swallow and look up at him with a smile.

“Holy shit. You really know what you’re doing.” He lets out a heavy content sigh. “We still aren't done yet. I need to be inside you.” He says laying me back down on the bed. I still cannot believe that this is happening. 

Rafe wastes no time climbing on top of me leaving sloppy kisses up my chest and meeting my mouth with his. “You sure about this?” He looks down at me.

“Never been more sure about anything.” I nod. 

“Good” He says as he grabs a condom from his nightstand and puts it on. Seconds later, he is lining himself up at my entrance. His tongue plunges into my mouth as he enters inside of me. His cock stretched my pussy perfectly. He moves with smooth motions leaving us both moaning into each other's mouths as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He brings his hand to my throat once again,barely applying pressure, making me let out a moan that was too loud to be stifled. He doesn’t seem to care. 

“You like when my hands are around your neck?” He whispers in my ear.

“Yes! Oh my god yes” I am starting to get louder. He moves his hand from my throat to my mouth to keep me quiet again. I moan into his hand as his thrusts hit the perfect spot inside of me. He can tell that he has hit the spot when my hips start to buck in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. I am almost screaming into his hand. As he leans down to kiss me again. 

“You gonna cum with me?” he asks, pressing his forehead against mine. I nod unable to speak, to stop myself from screaming. “Words y/n. Use your words” 

“Fuck yes. I’m gonna cum!” I whine out. He thrusts in and out a few more times, hitting the spot perfectly making me squirm underneath him. With one final thrust, I arch my back as I scratch my nails down his, definitely leaving scratch marks. We cum simultaneously as we let out deep and hungry moans into each other's mouths. He just gave me the best orgasm I have ever had. He pulled out and laid next to me.

“Holy shit. I’ve waited so long to do that.” he says looking at me out of breath.

“Me too. I always had a crush on you ya know.” I say looking at him equally as out of breath.

“Yeah I know.” He smiles and lets out a soft chuckle.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” I laugh back.

“Thank God I did. And I plan on doing it again. Just so you know.” I winked at me 

“I’d hope so.” I smile, laying there next to him. He was right. That was the best way to get over someone. 

** hi! I really hope you liked this. If you did and want to see more let me know what you want to see! I had fun writing this and in my many many years of writing fanfics this is somehow my first time writing smut so I hope it was okay lol ❤️

[icallhimjoey]

In 120 Hours

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work as a temp and are offered a very exclusive interview for a very exclusive job. You see, someone needs a personal assistant for a very eventful week, and you happen to be the perfect fit.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: part four! this is where we get unprofessional, but, you know, it's not just you. for all my new readers, know that my joey is soft joey first and foremost - if you were waiting for some filthy smut, im sorry to disappoint!

Wordcount: 4.5K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

At 6AM sharp you grabbed the remote control from Joe’s bedside table and turned his TV off before placing a cup of coffee down.

“Get up, Joe,”

You were still in pyjamas yourself, bedhead, barefooted, voice groggy and sleep still stuck in the corners of your eyes. On your way out of Joe’s bedroom, you said, “We’re leaving in about thirty minutes,” and then didn’t get a response.

You stopped in the doorway, looked back and couldn’t help but imagine what sleeping in that big bed with Joe would be like. The bed looked like it was a twelve-year-old Ikea piece that had been taken apart and put back together too many times - like it would wobble unsteadily any time someone in the bed would turn over. Good thing his new bed was coming in today.

You found the switch for the big light, slapped it, and flushed the room with bright white, hurting your own eyes as well as probably Joe’s.

“Joe?”

Then a thumbs up shot up from the big pile of white duvet, and you scoffed, huffed a laugh, and said “Coffee’s on your bedside table, we’re having breakfast at the shoot.”

In the car on the way over it was quiet. You were both freshly showered, and you’d even had the time to blow dry your hair, but it was still early, and the both of you were still tired. You imagined it was mostly because of the loud TV – there was no way Joe was getting any better sleep than you were with that thing blaring. At least your new earplugs worked just fine and you’d managed to get a lot more sleep than the night before.

The morning felt a little heavy, because with all the driving around London, getting to see so much of it, you had started thinking about why you hadn’t actually moved back yet. Memories of your ex wanting to move away, back to his hometown, his estranged nan dying and leaving him the house... it felt like you’d hit the jackpot at the time. And your family was relatively close too, so it was fine. But you’d had real withdrawal symptoms from leaving the city, and now that you were no longer actually with him, you tried to think of reasons why you’d bought a flat in his hometown after you broke up, but you came up empty.

“Are you all right?”

You looked at Joe whose eyebrows quirked, giving away a polite bit of worry.

“There’s going to be a lot of deliveries today, I’m doing mental math to figure out how I’m going to do this,” you lied in truths. “And I’m really hungry.”

Joe was asked to go to a workshop after the photoshoot, just for an encouraging word, nothing insane, but it meant you were going to be rushing a bit. After the appearance at the workshop, there’d be a phone interview, and then there’d be another screening.

Joe sighed.

“I don’t want to be rude and skip it, but, I kind of want to skip the film screenings today,”

“You’ll still have to go to be seen, talk to some people,”

“Yea, don’t really want to do that either,”

You paused, looked over Joe’s schedule, at how many things there were, saw that tomorrow was his film premiere with the Q&A straight after, and then the day after that, the awards ceremony. You understood the want for a short break, looked at Joe and said, “Let’s have breakfast first, before you make any rash decisions,”

But then Joe smiled wistfully, and you knew this wasn’t a rash decision at all.

Fine.

You could come up with a vague excuse for him, no problem.

A busy morning passed you by, and you'd made a deal with Joe’s driver. You said he could have the evening off if he would go back to Joe’s house to sign for furniture deliveries, and then you’d call if you needed him to come pick you up and bring you somewhere else.

A tricky deal because this was power you definitely didn’t yield. But Joe had said he didn’t want to go to the screenings, which effectively meant that he wouldn’t need to be brought anywhere from the workshop forward.

You were lucky the driver seemed to like you, with a sneaky wink and a small smile, the driver dropped you off, accepted the front door key you handed him and drove right back to Joe’s address.

And then you spent the whole photoshoot on the phone to him, because the men moving the furniture in had also been paid to place all pieces in the correct rooms, and then when you heard the driver walk up all the stairs, you felt like you were crossing a thousand boundaries letting all these people into Joe’s house without you or Joe being there.

“They want to take the big bed out of the master bedroom,”

“Yea sure, can they disassemble it and leave it in another room on the first floor? Just so it’s out of the way. We can maybe use it for another guest room, or whatever, don’t let them take it away. Wait. They can take the mattress; can they take the mattress? There’ll be new ones coming in. Not having to haul that thing off ourselves will be a huge help.”

“Yes, ma’am,”

You crossed your fingers that everything would work out fine, and that you weren’t going to walk into a huge unfixable mess of a house later that day.

Joe basically had a full day of picture taking. The shoot was obviously very camera heavy, but the appearance at the workshop was basically a fan meeting in and of itself. It was all teenagers who either already went to film school, or really wanted to go to film school, and Joe was the only big celebrity that people who weren’t into film would also recognize in a selfie. So, they all wanted selfies, and who was Joe to tell them no?

On the way back to Joe’s house in the late afternoon, you asked him if he wanted to do the scheduled phone interview, and just when Joe was about to say something snarky about you asking him if he wanted to, you had the phone already ringing for him.

Joe narrowed his eyes at you with a small sneaky smile, and started a mild insult, “You little– hello!” but wasn’t able to finish because someone picked up on the other end. You grinned, couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your throat, and this time, Joe didn’t grab your knee to squeeze, but his fingers found your forearm to scratch before he focused all his attention on the lady on the phone who asked him questions about previous and upcoming projects.

Deep breaths, everyone. It was just a scratch. One that made your belly somersault, but you know, t’was just a little scratch. Nothing major. Shit. You had to calm down.

When you rounded the corner into Joe’s street, it was time to face the music. See what state the house was left in by the delivery men.

Downstairs in the living room, there were three rolled up rugs, still in its plastic packaging, a new TV unit, another sideboard that was meant to become a little bar area for Joe, and there were large ceiling lights, still in their boxes – no sofa yet. In the dining room, next to the clothing racks, were ten dining room chairs, lights and a long shelf – no table yet.

You knew upstairs Joe’s new bed would’ve been delivered, and you were about to tell him about it, but stepping into the kitchen you could see Joe hunched over the counter, reading a script, and munching on a banana.

When he saw you, he looked up and asked, “Do you mind if I go sit in your room to read this?”

Your room.

“Of course not, go ahead, it’s your house.”

And Joe left you alone. Which was great actually. It’d give you time to unpack furniture, drag things into their right spots and, you know, see your vision come to life a little. You texted Joe’s management a weak excuse for Joe not going to the film screenings or the industry happy hour that day and got to work.

At 6PM you called, “Joe, you hungry? Should I order some food?” up the stairs. You heard movement, saw him appear at the top and he said, “I’ll cook us something,” as he made his way down.

You watched him jog all the way down, and when stood next to you at the bottom, he gave you a confused look, asked, “What?”

You looked down at his hands.

“How are your wrists doing?”

Joe looked down as well, rotated both hands, completely unsure of what you meant.

“Because you’ve got a lot of signing to do tonight,”

About two hours later, all furniture had been unpacked, all plastic and cardboard had been sorted and taken out, Joe’s clothing racks had found a new home in an empty room upstairs and you had both eaten a beautiful home-cooked meal.

Because there was no sofa and no dining table yet, the two of you found yourselves on the floor, laid out on one of Joe’s new rugs. You were passing Joe photographs of himself in costume, one by one, and Joe signed the same squiggly ‘Joe’ on all of them, laying on his side, hanging into one of his shoulders.

It was boring assembly line work. But there was wine. A lot of wine. And music. Although, you had real strong doubts about the playlist Joe’d put on, but whatever, people liked different things. It was fine.

“If someone had told you five years ago that you’d be signing five thousand pictures of yourself the night before your film would premier at the London Film Festival, would you have believed them?”

“The person I was five years ago was a lot more confident than you’d think,” Joe said, having a sip of wine, giving his hand a 5 second break from holding the sharpie before getting right back into the routine. Dangerous game this, having red wine on a brand-new rug.

“I probably wouldn’t have believed them, not deep down, but I would’ve definitely pretended they’d been right,” Joe continued.

“Sort of, blind confidence, you’d have been like, me? oh yeah,”

“Yea, me? famous in five years? yes, absolutely,”

You both laughed.

You had a nice rhythm going, working in a big triangle. You would slide a photo over to Joe from his left, Joe would sign it, and slide it away from him to your left, where they all gathered in a huge pile that you’d later organize into neat stacks to go back into the boxes. But there were so many photographs, you’d no idea how you were going to finish them all with tomorrow and the day after being busy days.

“You’re a fidgeter,” Joe suddenly said, and you immediately stilled your fingers and balled your hands into fists.

“I’m a fidgeter?” emphasis on the I, you reached for your wine and took a sip, giving Joe some accusatory eyes. You’d seen Joe fidget his way through his days – thumbs finding the underside of his rings, teeth biting into the skin of his lips, sweaty palms being rubbed over his knees, whatever there was left of his nails scratching into his scruff... you wondered if there was anything left of the confident Joe from five years ago he’d just described.

“I’m not saying that I’m not, I’m just saying that you clearly are too,”

You looked at your hand – at your ring, and kind of wished it would’ve just reminded you of your grandmother by now, but it didn’t. Of course, it didn’t. Would it ever?

“That’s a nice ring,” Joe observed, making polite conversation, but carefully, because your face would do this thing whenever you looked at it, or touched it, and Joe didn’t like how he’d lose you for a second.

“Thanks, it um... it used to belong to my grandmother,”

And that’s when Joe thought he understood.

“I’m so sorry,”

You looked up and saw two ridiculously empathetic eyes look at you, displaying far too much pure, raw emotion, especially because it was totally misplaced, too.

“Oh no, she’s alive still. Very alive. Probably making a poor kid behind a bar somewhere cry because he’s mixed her drink wrong,” you chuckled, but it died quick, got stuck in the back of your throat somewhere as it constricted. And Joe didn’t speak, which, honestly, if he’d really been this kind dude that he was portraying to be, he would’ve said something by now so you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence yourself.

But he didn’t. And now you were going to have to share personal information about yourself.

You waited a second longer, looked at Joe to see if maybe he was going to say something, but he’d stopped signing, even capped the sharpie, and just looked at you.

Fuck.

“No um, so, this used to belong to my grandmother, and then she gave it to my boyfriend to propose to me with it, and he did, but then, that... we didn’t work out, so, I’m not engaged anymore, but I can’t give the ring back to him, can I? It used to be my nan’s!”

You were rambling a little, not making eye contact as you reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. Surely Joe had left it out here because the expectation was that you were going to finish it, right?

“My nan’s, not his... so I turned it into a normal ring, started wearing it on another finger, and now I... I kind of wear it to prove to myself that it’s something that ties me and my nan closer together, and it's not, you know, the engagement ring my ex-boyfriend gave to me,”

You moved the bottle over to Joe’s glass, and he gave it a small nudge to get it closer to you for a top up.

“But it just, it obviously just reminds me of him all the time... I’ve convinced myself there’s going to be a moment where it won’t, and maybe that will actually be the case, at some point,” you were talking with your hands, waving the bottle around and it made Joe reach a fearful hand over. That was red wine, and you were on a new rug.

“Oh, sorry,”

You knew how expensive this rug was, too.

“Go on,” Joe said softly, as he silently slid your glass away from you a little too.

“No, um, yea...” You shook your head to get back on track. “It’s not been that long anyway, so who knows. I don’t want to give up on it yet, it’s just stupid that it was an engagement ring before it was anything else to me, you know?”

Joe nodded, asked, “How long has it been?”

“About a month and a half,”

“Since you broke up?”

“Um no, since I secretly bought myself my own flat.” You huffed out a laugh. You knew it wasn’t funny, but you also knew that you sounded like a clinically insane person.

Joe didn't look at you as if you were crazy, but he also didn't say anything.

“I knew,” you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. “I knew it wasn’t going to work out. I should’ve never said yes, I should’ve never – honestly, I should’ve never even moved out of London for him, but you know... things happen.”

You slid another photograph of Eddie over to Joe, and it prompted Joe to uncap this sharpie again, sign the one that was still in front of him before moving onto the next. Slower pace now though.

“I only ended the engagement last week,”

“You had your own flat for over a month and he didn’t know?”

“Yep. No clue.” you smiled a painful smile, then cleared your throat. “So, that’s why I’m single.”

Another photo for Joe. Another sip of wine for you.

“What about you?”

“Why am I single?” Joe’s eyes shot up at you, a little playful smile underneath.

“Why do you fidget, you idiot,”

Joe laughed.

“But sure, that too. What’s got you all fucked up inside?”

Joe then grinned, silently signed a few more photographs, then took a deep breath and closed his sharpie again before leaning down further, head now supported by his hand.

“At the risk of sounding like the biggest twat ever,”

“Okay wait,”

You moved, positioned yourself to lay on your stomach, feet up behind you, leaning heavily into your shoulders, ready to listen.

“I’m ready, go,”

Joe laughed silently, then nodded to himself, and said, “You know how fizzy drinks, sparkling drinks, how they go flat if you leave them out long enough?”

Fantastic. An actor using a metaphor.

“Yes,”

“That’s kind of... that’s kind of what tends to happen with me. I’ll really like something, or someone, and then... it loses the bubbles. And I don’t like coke without any bubbles in, you know? I’d rather not drink it, just, get something else instead.” Joe groaned as he heard himself say it. “I don’t mean, I don’t – you know, I don’t shove someone out and just get someone new in immediately, that’s not...” Joe didn't finish the sentence.

You looked at Joe for a second, then clicked your tongue.

“Easy fix, you’ve just got to stop going around and leaving bottles uncapped,”

And Joe laughed. Threw his head back and let the rest of his body follow, rolling onto his back, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. “What? Tell me I’m wrong!” you challenged him.

“Well, I can’t keep all the bottles closed the whole time either, can I? I’ve got to fill up some glasses,”

Joe was slowly losing you with this metaphor.

“Sure, so, fill up a glass, put the cap back on, and back in the fridge it goes!”

A more tentative silenced followed next. Joe flipped back onto his side and reached for his wine.

“Or maybe we could just have wine forever.”

Your conversation carried on, and you talked about all different kinds of things. Joe had you explain the full vision you had for the room you were in, had you dart around gesturing where the sofa would go, which light had to be hung where, what paint colours to use for each wall, which Joe had to get painters in for, because these ceiling are too high to do that safely yourself, buddy. And Joe said he loved it, but you didn’t believe him, because Joe didn’t seem like the guy who could visualize the way you could. He’d confessed being bad at that when it came to his outfits, how was he ever going to convince you that he could do it for his interior? But fine. You could accept a compliment, even if it didn’t mean anything. They were kind words anyway.

When you finished the bottle of wine, Joe asked what time you needed to wake up tomorrow, and it wasn’t until 10 that a stylist would come over with clothing for the premier, so you said 9AM and Joe promptly opened the second bottle before sitting back down and filled up both your glasses once more before getting back into signing.

There was a brief moment where Joe tried to teach you how to forge his signature so you could help, but it was very obvious which ones you’d done, so that plan was quickly given up on.

And when that second bottle was nearing its end as well, somehow, the conversation lulled back onto singledom, and you talked about how being single was actually really quite nice.

You had all this time to yourself, no one to answer to. The place would actually be quiet for once. No mess from other people to clean up after – fully ignoring your current temp job in the moment, you’d been cleaning up after Joe all evening – and no person to yell at you for making a mess.

But then it quickly took a turn, and you both became sarcastic.

“It’s great having dinner by yourself all the time,” Joe spoke into his glass.

“Waking up in empty beds is so fine,” you gulped your last sip down.

“Going out and being the only single one in your group of people is not weird at all,”

“13th wheeling is so fun, isn’t it?”

“Oh, the best,”

“It’s great reaching for a hand to hold in bed and finding that the only other hand in there is your own other hand,” you said, and Joe winced at that, laughed because that felt too real.

“And it’s easy to fight off any loneliness by just turning on the TV to pretend there’s people around and you’re not so fucking alone all of the time,”

And you gasped a sad breath, making Joe freeze just as he was about to take his last sip, and he pointed a finger.

“No, don’t,”

“Oh no... you have that TV blaring because...”

“Don’t,”

“Because you’re lonely?” Your eyebrows couldn’t possibly knit together any further. “Joe, that’s really sad,” you said, but you burst out laughing straight after.

“Yea, well,” Joe emptied his glass, let the last bit of red slide down his throat. “At least I don’t hold my own fucking hand in bed,”

You erupted into full belly laughter. Just, raw joy from the deepest pits within you. It all bubbled up and out, and you laughed until you couldn’t anymore because it started to hurt your stomach too much. You were tipsy, sure, but you hadn’t been able to laugh at yourself like this in ages. Felt great. Sort of cleansing, in a way.

You’d not even gotten through half a box of photographs.

Time for bed.

There was something nice about tidying up before bed, moving things into the kitchen, turning off all the lights and walking up the stairs together. You said goodnight as you walked into the guest room, and Joe made his way up another flight, but you’d only just taken your socks off when Joe called down for you.

“Um... I think we have a problem?”

Joe’s bed.

You ran up the stairs and found Joe, staring at his new bed. Flat-packed, still. There were dressers, nice armchairs, and bedside tables too. But all still in boxes. Wrapped in plastic. New mattresses nowhere to be found.

Shit.

You’d forgotten all about Joe’s bedroom, and the two of you just stared at it for a moment, trying to think of what to do.

“Take the guest room,” you suddenly said, opting a very sensible solution. “I’ll go... I don’t know, find a hotel to stay at for the night,” But then Joe was already scooping up his pillows that had been left in a pile on the side, and said, “Or, we could pillow-wall it?”  

After asking maybe fifteen times if you felt comfortable, if you were okay with this, if you really were fine, which, “Yes, Joe, shut up, this bed is massive, I won’t even feel it if you turn,” you were in bed together with Joe’s pillows strategically placed in between you underneath the covers. Like you were children who both thought the other was gross and touching each other in your sleep would be the death of you. It was fine. Cute even, but you kind of wished they weren’t there. They had to be. Obviously. You were his PA. Ew, gross. Were you getting paid to sleep in the same bed? Technically you were, weren’t you? Disgusting - that was a thought to push down immediately and to forget about forever.

You were right about the bed, though. It really was wide enough for you to move around freely and not have it be weird. But, you know, it was still a little weird. And you were both a little awkward about it, so you found solace in humour as you got comfortable in the dark.

“If someone had told you a five years ago,” Joe started, and already had you giggling. “That you’d be sleeping in the same bed with me, would you have believed them?” Joe asked, and you could hear how he tried to hold back his own giggles.

You were two ten-year-olds at a slumber party, that's exactly what this felt like.

“You were nobody five years ago,” you laughed. “I would’ve gone, who?”

“Who the fuck’s Joe Quinn?” Joe said in a high-pitched voice.

“I’d also probably say, that won’t ever happen, I would never let my boss talk me into bed with him,”

“Oi, fuck off,” Joe laughed. “I’m only here because you fucked up,”

Oof, shots fired over the pillow wall.

“I’m sorry there’s no TV in here for you to deafen your own sad thoughts with,” you fired right back.

“Good night,” Joe spoke sternly, and then you both laughed until silence took over.

“Good night,” you then said back in a softer tone of voice and turned over onto your side. Joe yawned, said good night in a nice way too, indicating that it really was time to sleep now. No more chatting, no more joking. Just silence, and sleep.

You didn’t know how much later it was when you suddenly snapped out of thought – one of those moments where you were like, oh I’m still awake? I could’ve sworn my thoughts were dreams – by something touching your wrist.

“Stop fidgeting,” you heard Joe whisper drowsily, his voice muffled by duvets and pillows. He’d snuck an arm over to your side and let his fingers wrap around your wrist. Almost in a reflex, you twisted in his grip and took hold of his wrist too.

You laid like that for a little while, until you had the thought that, if you were to fall asleep, your grip would loosen and you’d lose each other. You didn’t know why that pained your chest the way it did, but it was enough for you to move your hand down, fit it into his, and Joe followed your lead as your fingers laced together. You inhaled a sharp breath, and you felt Joe squeeze tightly. You could cry at how comforting this was.

“Don’t let go of it,” you whispered into the dark.

“I won’t.”

And without trying to overthink about how you’d gotten here, which steps you’d taken throughout the past three days that lead up to this moment, you fell into a deep sleep, sunk all the way into the plush softness of the bed, holding hands with Joe, with only fifty-six hours on the clock still.

—

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks

@figmentofquinn  @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie  @munsonmunster  @kellysimagines  @mybffjoe  @chaoticgood-munson @jenisnotlost  @sherrylyn628  @bdpst-massacre  @05secondsofsexgods  @lovelyblueness  @adoreyouusugar  @nadixq  @prozacandnicotine  @munsonswhore86  @alwayslindie

@thefemininemystiquee  @hauntingbastille  @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland  @pepperstories  @phyllosilicate-s  @thebellenouvelle  @luvrsbian  @joesquinns  @choke-me-joey  @alizztor  @thelostmoonofpooosh  @did-it-work  @capricornrisingsstuff  @quinnsbower  @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[simpjaes]

60 [milf hunt] 61 [prp] 62 [serial sweetheart] 63 [night/day shift] 64 [frenzy 1+2] 65 [hypersexual + first date etiquette] 66 [one of the damned girls]

pls + ty 🩷

60.) What inspired the plot for MILF HUNT? the fic still isn't finished yet and im SO SORRY FOR THAT but basically just the idea of jay wanting to be both daddy and an actual dad. i need to write him as a toxic service top so bad 61.) In PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM, what's your favorite scene that you wrote? if you want the honest truth, it was all the side stuff with the rest of hyung line. if there's anything i love in a fic, it's giving the side characters an insane amount of time to shine. in player rank tho, i did cut down quite a bit. i think the fic was actually closer to 40k when i finished it but i removed a lot. some ppl might note that in my other fics with side characters too, i always make them a borderline love interest too :| outside of that, it's when reader is humping heeseung's pillow and he walks in like "omg ur so gross for doing that" 62.) In SERIAL SWEETHEART, was there a deleted scene/idea that you wish you could have included? why did you cut it? well, serial sweetheart was a revamp and actually, nothing was cut out of that one. this question would be WELL suited for paid in&paid off or frenzy tho like omg....the shit i cut out of those LMFAO 63.) What was the hardest part of writing NIGHT SHIFT/DAY SHIFT? probably the first part was the most difficult for me to accept. i still can't stand that part of the fic bc i wrote it as a drabble and decided to call it a fic. it's not really up to my personal standards but i feel like it's okay when paired with the second part [day-shift] which I put a lot more thought and effort into!!! 64.) if you re-wrote FRENZY now, would you change anything? well, firstly, pls know that i love the fic as is and it's one of the first fics i've ever truly loved after finishing it. I put my SOUL into that shit. but...yeah...i would change a lot. i played with a lot of ideas in that fic, including noncon involving stalker jake, there was even a scene i wrote in full that was deleted of him literally killing reader's ex boyfriend. there likely would have been more cameras, blood, insane behavior, and probably a bit of love induced murder involved if i were to re-write it now with a comfortable place to post it. not everyone can appreciate this type of writing though :/ 65.) If you wrote a sequel to HYPER SEXUAL and FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE, what would happen in it? hyper-sexual is getting a sequal so i will remain silent on that outside of letting you know there's free-use and somnophilia. as for first date etiquette...well, they're basically dating by the end of it so a sequel would likely be boring to write tbh. just a boyfriend and his girlfriend having weird sex atp, but i guess a cool plot point would be reader's parent's finding out that sunghoon is a slut and hating his guts lol 66.) What's a fun fact about ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS? jungwon was supposed to die but i wrote him as such a beloved character that i couldn't do it :|

[pleucas]

this is said with no malice towards you i love your art!! i like you!!

also not capitalizing chuuya's name even tho i have better humor than this

this is going to be loooong but i never read a more stupid ask….

i don’t hate skk bcs i use my brain and see that they’re actually good and a fun ship when someone isn’t ruining it. what i hate is most skkers being unfunny towards Dazai and the continuous mischaracterization of him just to make chuuya look better (mostly chuuya stans but also dumb Dazai stans are guilty of it)

and no Dazai isn’t the worst and chuuya doesn’t deserve better in fact i think yall can’t handle a person with mental illness and a fake persona he clearly put on people always demonize him so i think saying he’s the worst and chuuya isn’t proves my point. they both EQUALLY did the same bad things Dazai isn’t more toxic than chuuya it’s more like Dazai is the one who’s going back to a toxic ex (mind u chuuya was ready to hurt or maybe even kill some of the ada members people Dazai obviously cares for)

the skk hater? who loves chuuya and hate Dazai because they know chuuya’s character will never be as important or as impactful on bsd universe as Dazai’s noted.

if you love chuuya and hate Dazai your opinion about Dazai is immediately invalid like i think they just know no bsd character can be better written and more interesting than Dazai he's what keeping bsd good (and Fyodor i liked him in the last chapters even more)

imo if chuuya keeps appearing he'll just get boring🤷‍♀️ because most of his storyline is over

Dazai on the other hand always entertaining and deep and there’s a reason he’s involved in everything and never forget everything he did for chuuya stormbringer would be nothing without Dazai helping chuuya from the shadows and chuuya knows it but i guess people will still makes him the bad person in skk when he’s the one trying to change and be better person

also Dazai is someone who’s storyline is still on going as well as we know almost nothing about his past or what actually goes on in his brain i can say three things about his backstory and that’s it.

sorry for rumbling i can’t take that level of stupidity

pls don’t block me im not evil…..

holy shit we got cross-ask beef. this is insane

i'm gonna lowercase Both their names because i think this is the reasonable next step. LOL. & i'll also ramble a bit to match ur freak!

i will strive to clarify that me agreeing that dz=worst chuuya deserves better was, as i specified, "on a generalized scale" — on a very, very, VERY surface level this is a jokey way i've seen a lot of skkers talk about their relationship. more of an inside joke atp ig? idk. srry if that wasnt clear

but i do think it's valid to dislike a ship because you don't like one half of it. i totally get how dz's character can piss ppl off, esp if ure missing lns and mangas (which rimu wasn't, but they watched the anime first so the precedent was set). i found the first part of their thesis to be pretty funny actually, just (again) taking it at face-value.

it's also understandable that they try and dissect dz then miss the mark by a mile LOL. but again, can't be blamed if you hate the guy and thus don't read into him too much, which i think is a reasonable way to consume media... probably more reasonable than me. hence why i didn't respond with my own thesis paper. overall idk man it's not that deep, i've been having fun with rimu and i'd advise y'all to also be silly w/ ur Budgeted RPF Dead Author Yaoi, it'll make things a lot better

abt what you've said, i think dz and chuuya can't exist as true characters w/o each other, unless you fundamentally change their truth. a lot of their good & bad (& inbetween) sides are exposed through their relationship, which i believe is asgr's very interesting way of employing "show-don't-tell." i don't think chuuya's storyline is over, because dazai's isn't, and vice versa. this doesn't mean i don't think they have their own arcs, just that these arcs Must involve the other — if dz's main conflict is good/bad + the mafia, chuuya is his biggest amiable tie to it, and if chuuya's conflict is his self + power, dz must be there for corruption. there's more to say there, but again i don't want to feed rimu's claims of us all being dormant essayists LOL

we got dz glazer and rimu, D1 dz hater. and cheese anon.

[morsmortish]

Hi! I love your brain.

So what are your thoughts on Remus x Barty.

Im not quite sure they could work together so that’s why im writing them together but I see Remus as a more sane Evan. And a tiny bit more of a loser.

Barty is fun. You know him quite well, anyway.

It’s like rosekiller but at the same time I can never see Remus handling Barty well, I think for wolfstar angst it would definitely work. Where Remus went with Barty (because Barty and Sirius do have a similar style. Just Barty does it better) and Sirius is really jealous. That’s where you could add Evan. Because Sirius and Barty, and Evan and Remus. My mind is all over the place so I apologize for how much of a mess this ask is.

Barty would be a toxic ex for Remus. They tried it, and it never really worked out. Unless there were others. Like if you added other people it could work, because the main thing pulling them apart is that Barty is much too insane. Other people could handle that part, and they could actually be happy.

Maybe Evan would work. I’m not sure, but that is not my point!

Barty is energetic and Remus is not. So it works like a family dynamic (which probably isn’t good for a relationship) so all that aside, now I’m wondering about friends. Because I think it’s all or nothing. But at the same time there’s so many factors to think about.

So, what do you think about it?

i must admit i’ve never thought about it before…but the way you’ve phrased it here has definitely piqued my interest. i’m a loser!barty truther, and i see him as the kind of guy to skip merrily over to a dungeons and dragons club after giving someone the best sex of their life. i see him and remus as somewhat similar in that sense (they’d both be classified as ‘weird’ in an american high school), and they’re mostly separated by the fact that barty is extroverted, and remus is not (↤ take this with a very generous pinch of salt). barty wears his ‘loserness’ with a sense of unbothered flippancy; he does not care that his interests are stereotypically ‘weird’, and he will happily ramble on about the latest instalment of whatever vampire comic series he’s into at the moment (whilst blowing vape smoke into your face). on the other hand, remus is somewhat more self-aware- he’s shyer and much more awkward, and definitely extremely self-concious. however, i do still see him as having that same cruel streak running through him that is very prominent in barty’s character, to an undoubtedly lesser extent, but nonetheless present in him as well. remus can be cruel when he needs to be, whereas barty is cruel when he wants to be.

the idea of barty being remus’s toxic ex…yeah. this is the option i’m leaning most towards in terms of a ship between them, because barty crouch junior is the ULTIMATE toxic ex. he might as well have written the goddamn rulebook on it. with ships like bartylily, bartylus, they all work sm better (for me) with them broken up, and i think it’s safe to say i will be adding bartyremus (we need a proper shipname for them) to this list. i can see them meeting at some sort of convention, maybe hitting it off (barty talks!!!! and remus listens!!!!), but, as you said, barty is a bit too insane for remus. i think barty could unlock that aforementioned cruel streak in remus, he could bring out the worst in him. and i think this would scare remus away more than anything barty himself could do- remus leaves because he starts to hate himself, not barty (although he eventually hates barty for causing it). ie- it’s not barty throwing a plate against a wall that ends the relationship, it’s remus.

a lot of the time i like to think of barty as a foil to james, but it’s also really interesting to now think of him in comparison to remus. in the grand scheme of things, they’re not THAT similar (hence the generous pinch of salt mentioned above), but i can see them being drawn to each other due to similar interests or whatnot. i don’t see them as working particularly well as friends, but barty as That One Ex-Boyfriend? who makes remus roll his eyes when his name is mentioned? who sirius despises with a burning passion? who will hit remus with the “u up?” text at 3am? yeah. i can see that very clearly.

[fdrsamericanflagduckfloaty]

Drop the Miku Binder TJ rant bestie

okay so like

i was just thinking about it, and, like, i think it's fucking nuts but also really weird how the hamilton fandom (which i'm in but i swear i'm not an uwu lams turtles shipper please) somehow took this CRUSTY, TERF-BANGED, UGLY, OLD, REDHEADED, RAPIST ASS MOTHERFUCKER,

and turned his ugly ass into this.

like damn what the hell- what- how???? okay like yeah, they're using daveed diggs as a base for this bullshit, which, okay, fine, but YOU DID NOT NEED TO ADD THE INFO. The idea itself is funny but also a bit weird, however im 99% sure Diggs himself wore that shirt. However, all of the extra info??? come on. Where'd the fandom get this istg y'all-

Also, also, they did something similar by making John Laurens (gay blonde dumbass) into an UWU turtles boy. ....why. Bi trash coffee gremlin tumblr over-worked sleep-deprived alexander hamilton. like yeah relatable but. why. small bean big sweater uwu innocent boy blushy short james madison. ...why. bro was stubborn and would pick a fight and was the 'fuck you' type of shy.

I just find it wild the fandom made this and it is the entirety of the fandom into one. There's the good sides, there's the bad, and there's this. Which encompasses the ENTIRE. FUCKING. FANDOM.

The fandom has its headcanons, it has its perks, but then you reach the side where everyone is just a wild fucking original character. They don't model the historical figures anymore- they're just OCs with the name 'Philip Hamilton' or 'John Laurens' or god forbid our third U.S president 'Thomas Jefferson' slapped onto it.

I'm also so confused as to how this is what the fandom is known for. We have some good fics, we have hella good art, we have a M U S I C A L , and then the first thought people have of the Ham fandom is Miku Binder Third President Founding Fucker Slaveowner Thomas Jefferson.

I also find it kind of offensive (almost put insluting oh my ufckjg-) that they made a founder become this but like he'd probably be really pissed so please keep fucking up his memory lmao he deserves it

But like... also why. What made them think of this.

Like yeah I write 20k word TR smut but you don't see me drawing it.

You don't see me making him an UWU e-boy.

...Eh I probably would for shits and giggles tbh

But like this is founding father Thomas Jefferson. Third Pres. Second VP. First Sec. of State. And he is a furry, ex-cocaine addict. Also btw do they mean John Laurens or John Adams as the former drug dealer part because neither are better but it'd really help

Also bro literally raped his 14 year old slave and had like 6 kids with her. He had her room DIRECTLY NEXT TO HIS. He RAPED HIS DEAD WIFE'S HALF-SISTER. AND HE'S A SAD UWU MAN WHO DID NOTHING WRONG?

Let's not forget this same person made a post saying Lizzie (the Queen) would be reincarnated as a horse when she died. I'm serious. Deadass.

However, it's also funny as fuck because this entire thing is a tarnish to Jefferson and I fucking HATE that bastard so like good job lol

At the same time though it's still super weird??? But insane??? Because how did this become one of the Tumblr exclusives??? like it's Tumblr history at this point. Twitter history. You cannot express any like for the Hamilton musical before you get the 'have you seen miku binder thomas jefferson' and it's like 'well shit'.

But also remember: THIS IS NOT AN OC TO FUCK AROUND WITH. Hamilton the Musical specifically gave you and presented you the founder. Thomas Jefferson. Played by Daveed Diggs. Just because it is played by a POC, but also modernized, and vastly different from the actual founder and President, does not mean that at its core it is NOT STILL THE SAME PERSON.

If you name it Thomas Jefferson, if you use the presentation of him given by Daveed Diggs, you are still using that white fucking slave-owning racist motherfucker, and that's the point of it all.

I find it stupid but funny but also insane, and I wouldn't care, unless I KNEW IT WAS SERIOUS. The artist made it seriously. They made John Laurens. They made Philip Hamilton. They did this seriously.

but like also look at this lmao

This meme of Thomas Jefferson in a Hatsune Miku binder really got trending on Twitter at one point

It's an infamous, hellish, classic meme of both Tumblr and the Hamilton fandom, and it deserves what attention it's got, but Jesus please never unironically make shit like this again, Hamilfans, we're stained by this we don't need another😭🔫

EDIT:

i have more

So like, I just remembered: it kinda romanticizes these guys??? The musical??? so like don't get me wrong i love the music but... it puts them into this light. This pink light. It paints Hamilton as an abolitionist who was outspoken about it. When, in reality, dude traded and sold slaves for his in-laws + wasn't all that outspoken about it + was against immigrants or migrants, WHEN DUDE WAS FROM THE ISLANDS. HE HAD SCOTTISH BLOOD. AND HE'S AGAINST IT? Hypocrisy at its finest.

Washington also owned slaves and ran his own plantation too, so he's not off the hook. Madison, the 'uwu small bean' of the fandom, also owned slaves and ran a plantation. So the main people of this entire fiasco are slave-owners. Perfect. But also I've heard Ron Chernow's book on Hamilton, the entire start of the musical, is a bit biased to Ham himself, so...

You could be saying 'but FDRsduckfloaty, Sally is mentioned!' yes. But however, not enough. Not more. It's not even implied more than potentially ONCE what he did, and I'm not sure it ever was! Cabinet battle 3 states it flat-out but it was cut. For your info, Ben Franklin and John Adams are the only two you can really like in the slavery aspect. Ben bought them but let them go for their freedom, and John detested slavery and was against it. Never owned one.

Jefferson did add a slavery clause to the declaration but it was discarded, and he didn't fight half as much as he could have. Maybe he did and since it was the 1700s he didn't have a lot of support, but surely he could've done something like, I don't know, call it out after his terms? Once you're done gaining your second term and out of office, they can't do shit to it or your presidency, since it's over.

So the musical itself has its own problem and the fandom is even worse. It blatantly disregards that a LOT. A hella lot of the amrev fandom + a small part of the ham fandom has called TJeffs out for it but I mean can we please not make shit like Miku Binder Jefferson and act like he wasn't an actual child rapist???

This video does pretty well at it. I will admit the tagline 'America then, told by America now' almost sends shivers down my spine for what it really means. But then again I find men not knowing they'd make it down into the history books for starting the world's global power and the world's economic powerhouse pretty interesting. Doing something big and knowing it's historical, but not that it's going to form a very, VERY large country, where you'll be honored down the road and called a Founding Father of an entire nation? Signing papers and not knowing they're the founding stones of a country and still looked up to today? Intriguing.

But like still fuck Thomas Jefferson lmao

there's a lot more videos on it that dig deep, but the point is, that Hamilton is a good musical with good songs but it's also very... complex, and a bit problematic, Thomas Jefferson is a little bitch, and you should stan 1776 before you ever stan Hamilton. 1776 does not do this. It is much more realistic. 1776 has Benjamin Franklin and that's an immediate win. Be more like a 1776, be less like a Hamilton.

[nbmudkip]

does it have to be comissions?

- EmpError

- blessing

- infinitely gray

- sekai-chan and kafu-chan's errand

- spinal fluid explosion girl

- children record

- the entire concept of sbibo

- kimiagure mercy

- haikei doppelganger

oh my god the LIST. ok here goes

1. emperror

i did ex, for any songs with no difficulty mentioned i’ll probably default to mas unless the mas is 33+ in which case i’ll just pick whichever i feel like atm. this ex chart is rly solid imo i have fun with it. its my fave ex chart of the three tho dftm is close. the faster bits in this one keep me on my toes and i almost fucked a solid few of them up hence the greats. 6/10 fond memories

2. blessing

why did you do this. why did you make me play this. you know how i feel about this song and this chart already. i messed up because i was thinking too hard about how angry i was at you for making me play this fucking song. hitting you with sticks. 0/10 it sucked

3. infinitely grey

wow another stinker. listen i have a bit of positive bias towards this one since it was one of my first lv30 aps but yeah it’s not great. so repetitive and of such an annoying note pattern too. she gets a 3/10 for nostalgia for the good ol days and nothing else

4. sekai-chan and kafu-chan’s errand

u rly had to pick one of my weakest lv32s…..the chart is a blast tho i wont lie. am i good at it? no. but holy shit is it fun. tappytappytappy brain good. i love the fast flicks in every chorus altho the end of the final chorus is the bane of my existence. 7.5/10 delicious adrenaline rush

5. spinal fluid explosion girl

another of my much weaker 32s. please disregard the greats i shifted to resting my ipad on a blanket bc sitting cross legged was hurting my legs rly bad and i think its fucking up my mental offset. anyway the chart is a blast altho it can be a liiiiiittle irritating at certain parts. still the flicks are so fun esp the ones in the middle with the squiggle holds, and while the runs can be a bit annoying they’re also very rewarding to get right. 7/10 fun but a touch enraging

6. children record

i have been fc-1 on this song for literally two and a half years and that did not change tonight. SAD! fortunately the chart fucks hard and its hard to gamer rage when i’m having that much fun. 8.5/10 wheeee weeeee whweeeeeee ahahhaahah weee

7. the entire concept of sbibo

??? not a chart that is a whole little dude. um if she was a chart i have to assume itd be pretty banger and high energy. not sure what you wanted me to do here so i added some outfits instead. sbib/10

8. kimagure mercy

???? New mas ap hello????!? ERM. well im very pleased. anyway this chart FUCKS. this chart literally fucks so hard its not even funny. its insane. its so fun. makes you feel like GOD when you play it well which i am experiencing right now as we speak. im very happy rn if you cant tell ive been stuck on ap-1 on this chart for months. anyway chart good brain slush overall 9/10 i love you weird flick patterns

9. haikei doppelganger

THIS CHARTTTTTTT. GUHHHHHHHH u already know how much i love this chart it is SO!!!! FUN!!!!!!!! they space out the mid-speed runs and the superfast runs and the rhythmic pauses with each other so well and it’s just a breath of fresh air to play. one of the best charts in the game objectively and one of my favorites as well. fcing this for the first time can cheer one up from anything nd believe me i have firsthand experience with that. 10/10 this chart FUCKS!!!!!!!!!!

and thus concludes your 8 mile long ask meme response hope you enjoyed

[hertwood]

dts s2 e4-6

e4: -sorry seb's "says who?" at the start of episode (in response to ferrari telling him what to do) GAGGED sets the tone for the episode PERFECTLY -mattia talks about monza the way indy drivers talk abt the 500 lmao -the whole "there is no #1 driver" bit makes me think hey r there parallels to be drawn between sebchal here and alonso/hamilton in 2007? just thinkin about it -before i get to far i want to share some thoughts: when i first watched this episode with NO prior knowledge it was rly hard to follow. after i heard about the specifics of the ferrari engine controversy (cheating), for the second watch i remember this episode suddenly clicking for me! this episode would've benefitted so much from a will buxton monologue explaining the juicy details for a newish viewer. i understand that there might have been pressure from ferrari to not include those details but it is such a shame, to have such a core piece of information missing and viewers have to try to piece together the narrative without it :/ -HI LAURA WINTER -very much get the impression that seb is like the family member who notices the generational trauma and going hey maybe we should change things to stop that and gets exiled from the family instead :) those sure are the vibes -HI CHARLOTTE -im sorry the back to back "seb has a lack of confidence with the car. and charles' car is not performing" like theyre the same car but you're gonna frame it like its seb's fault but not charles's? mattia choke -at the part where they're explaining the engine controversy--i still stand by wishing they explained it better and EARLIER because i think its much needed context for the first half of the episode too -at the end of the day all i need to know is that seb clearly thought that what ferrari did was wrong, and thats all i need to know if he says so then i believe it!! -the way netflix is trying to tease like ~oh imagine all the different teams he could go to! who wouldnt want him~ is so cheeky but also i NEED to know what this was like live when yall didnt know where he was going i'm JEALOUS i wish i got to be there for it all to unfold -double ferrari dnf at monza must've been crazy to watch live too lmao -seb zigzagging through all the photographers on his bicycle. love him -seb announcing his new seat the same weekend as ferrari's 1000th is crazy ex girlfriend levels of unhinged (pos). like posting ultrasound pics the same day as your ex's wedding type of shit. no one does it like him -sorry im incapable of watching ferrari episodes without writing an essay. hope you enjoyed

ep5: -the great daniel/cyril divorce -i cant remember who said it or where i saw it but when i first got into f1 properly someone talked about how Different things might've been if there hadn't been covid--since the season was delayed, the contract was signed before reneault could have any races with daniel that year--so daniel could only make that decision based off 2019 races -the jump clearly did not work out for him but alpine also went to shit too. but if cyril hadn't left who knows. i think all of daniel's choices make sense honestly!!!! he just got very unlucky -anyway their dynamic is insane and they deserve soooo many more fic than they have!! -"it's probably a bit like being dumped by a girlfriend, but she hasn't moved out of the house yet." christian did eat with this one. unfortunately -i love cyril but him being the one to actually complain about the pink mercedes feels very..... my wife is divorcing me so i'm gonna sue my neighbors over the property line -"i hate those fucking pink cars" oh i need to gif that. i'll be watching and i'll just KNOW like yeah that needs to be in the next gifset -i cant believe i havent mentioned it yet renault colors are the BEST daniel has ever looked i miss having yellow n black on the grid. maybe thats why alpine went to shit they gave up the best color combo they could have

e7: -pierre redemption episode!!! i think this is one of the best episodes ever tbh. very cathartic movie plotline really ticks all the boxes -HI PATRICK -ok but the fact that dts NEVER covered alex's podiums w red bull after milking the shit out of his missed podiums is a hate crime to me personally -onboards going through eau rouge are scary af. -filled with rage at how christian horner chews up new drivers and spits them up (even though its all so predictable at this point. no one will ever live up to the golden boy) -i remember seeing people complain that the williams family leaving wasn't given focus in dts, if anyone has any fun video essays about that i'd love to watch! -i do take issue with will buxton saying "red bull can't admit they made a mistake (with alex)" i think red bull made a mistake with promoting ANYONE too early and expecting too much from them, but not in a pierre v alex way. neither of them were given enough time or support by red bull to flourish. and they lowkey admitted that recently lmao -but it /is/ cathartic to know that red bull have tried to get alex back since then and he doesn't need his toxic ex in his life anymore no thanks ✌️ -i just know i'll LOVE watching this race in full -they set up the suspense so well for the end of the race -and it really is. if carlos had won this race with mclaren, his first win, how different would the trajectory of his career been -ANYWAY theres something that just always gets me about men holding all their emotions in right until they cross the finish line and they finally allow themselves to feel the emotions. (recent example that made me SOB was theo when he won f2) i also love how much it clearly meant to the alphatauri guys in the garage. last time that happened was with seb for torro rosso yeah? so its clearly so so special

[scratchwake]

oh @bunny-heels you are going to regret this

gonna put all of the story stuff and drawings under the cut because thisll be a very very long post

basically, the ocs name is Rosalind Carr! she/they pronouns. during the events of the game was currently staying with family in the Bright Falls/Watery area

her design isn't really small town looking, but that's because I wanted to give her a very fish out of water city girl feel, since she's originally from NYC, so I went for a lot of modern city fashion, like mesh shirts and such, I wanted to make sure she stuck out as someone who is very much not from the rural PNW

but enough about her and more about her silly little relationship(?) with scratch!casey (and also, actual alex casey)

starting with her relationship with casey, she was kinda like a rebound sort of thing after The Divorce (what can i say, im a slut for divorced men) and obviously because of that it ended poorly. (okay, well, Kind of a rebound, some of it did overlap with the marriage because I'm also a slut for affairs)

but, before it ended, she started staying in BF with some family, which is part of what got casey interested in the murders there, because he was kinda worried about her getting fucking murked

but of course, the break up happens and he cant just back out of the case (and he doesnt even want to, anyway), which creates some VEERY awkward interactions during the events of the game. hes still somewhat interested in her, and shes still quite pissed off at him

then, game shit happens, and scratch possesses casey. and its a bit like

scratch: "eugh, this new body is so clunky and weird. but that doesnt matter, as long as i make this ending happen, it'll be all good."

rosalind: *exists for over .5 seconds, literally just trying to not die, having been roped into all this by sheer circumstance*

scratch: *immediately becomes filled with insatiable lust because now that he occupies caseys body, he can feel every less than convinent urge casey gets (like fucking on the job) amplified tenfold*

so he just. starts annoying her. she KNOWS hes not casey, which is probably why she entertains it rather than hiding in a hole until everything is okay again

and without further ado: her design, and a doodle of her and scratch!casey based on my first post about them (disclaimer: im still learning how to draw sam lakes face so PLEASE gimme the benefit of the doubt here lol)

basically, though-out the whole deerfest section, you have this poor woman who knows she's forgetting something and KNOWS something is wrong and the whole time there is this fucked up version of her ex trying to get in her pants (and honestly? lowkey succeeding.)

imagine being her, laying in bed next to a fucked up and evil version of her ex boyfriend while he rambles about famous missing author Alan Wake and how they need to "become one"

it's kinda like a, me my boyfriend and my boyfriends giant plushie situation except none of them are together and scratch is just insane

if anyone wants to know some random facts about her, flick me an ask! she is my baby and i love her so much (i am cringe but i am free)

[f4ll3nf34th3r5y5t]

TW VENT!! dont read if ur sad or smth!!!

i hesitate to write this. genuinely. theres people i know will see it and theres those who wont but i really want to. i dont even feel upset writing this, i feel pretty good actually. i think writing this wont help, i know it wont, but itll be said right? which is better than nothing(maybe). 

some of us, and i wont name, have a horrible habit of checking accounts of people we no longer talk to and wow! you guessed it. exs fall into that. its mainly to see how theyre doing(usually /neg) or cus theyre bored. but we all get those memories. and the pain can meld to others which sucks, really. thankfully this doesnt happen often! but it still happens and it still hurts. an example is one of them sent a anon tell to an ex of ours asking if they checked their exs accounts. part of the reason why other than curiosity was because we were a little suspicious they sent us tells n shit. im more confident they dont now after a bit of research but we cant talk in headspace easily. and even so who wants to talk about their bad habits? not them. but to the actual point, ive had nightmares my whole life. i dont have dreams anymore as far as i can tell, they always morph their way into something i dont count as a decent thing. and more often than not ive found someone from our past whos hurt us a lot is always there. we had one with a man named steven who ruined our childhood a couple days ago. we screamed at him about how we hate him so fucking much and personally? thats progress! we recognize we didnt deserve it. we recognize that it was wrong and he deserves to burn. 

but quite a few of these nightmares have our most recent ex. since theyre not almost dead like steven i wont name them, ill refer to them as K. im not sure theyll see any of this. part of us hopes they will. part of me hopes that too. id like to help set the record straight.

we dated them for a year and a few days. we met on discord and grew close in a short amount of time. they were 16, i was 14. theyre 18 and im 16 now. so its been almost 2 years, its been 2 years since we met though. the relationship was good as far as i knew but now as ive grown i realize even if the age gap isnt big, thats 2 different maturities. they were hypersexual, i was asexual. the pressure made me graysexual and im also now hypersexual(in a way). i felt bad for saying no, which made me what others see as a shy partner who relies on their s/o to function. i felt bad that i didnt rely on them to exist, as if theyd get mad at me for not needing them to breath. and i think i was right too. even if they think now ‘no i wouldnt of’, i know that that would upset them. because in a way, a twisted way, thats upsetting to someone who wants to be your whole world. they want you to only need them. theyve probably changed. i hope theyve changed. 

but someone stalked their tellonym the other day to see the answer to the tell they sent and they found something else, im quoting so i dont fuck it up,  “whats your opinion on a partner that is being shy?”                                        “it’s whatever but i can’t stand overly shy partners like i’m not going to do everything for you. my ex was like that and it drove me fucking insane”              i want to scream and yell that ‘you did this, this is your fault, it was and still is a problem you created’ but ive grown too. we’ve grown. but i want to talk about how youre wrong, K. how wrong you are. you got upset when i told you no, when i wasnt ready to fuck, when i had issues sleeping, when i hung out with anyone, when my constant attention wasnt on you. you probably dont remember it like that, and thats ok but it wont change my memory in any way. you can shit talk me and i know you have about things you shouldnt. you can get angry over this. i hope you do in a healthy way and right now some of us disagree with me hoping that. back to the topic at hand, though, i felt like you would hurt me if i didnt get your permission or do something you didnt like. maybe thats why i got called co dependent. and i dont mean physically, that youd hurt me like that, i meant mentally. i wouldve dont the physical part. i know i wouldve. i know all of us wouldve. an unspoken part of our brain thought if we didnt then we didnt love you. i remember one time, i was up past 12. you woke up and saw. you got upset, made me feel like the worst person because i wasnt asleep. i went into another room and hyperventilated, having one of the worst panic attacks ive ever had. thankfull i was too distraught to search for anything harmful, and the house was small(we all slept in the living room, the other 3 rooms were in shambles(kitchen worked a little)) so searching for stuff was noisy already. and i knew if i relapsed you would make it about you. which is another thing. i dont think you ever realized it. i could never bring it up either for that reason. i didnt like talking to you about my issues because id just end the topic feeling worse than i started, but this time id also feel like i hurt you. and since you didnt like me talking to other people, and when i was i had to tell you, i just never said anything. and when id have doubts about our relationship, like i felt like you didnt love me/i didnt know how to handle something with you/you did something i didnt like/i noticed a red flag/you think im cheating, i didnt have anyone to talk to. i think i didnt break up with you because i never vocalized my doubts too. i did ask my friends during our half ass break if i seemed like a cheater, if i was like one, if i had tendencies of one. ive been cheated on before and i personally dont think im like one at all but others insight helps a lot! they said no, though, but part of me is still scared they lied. it doesnt matter much anymore though. anyway. to continue on your wrongdoings of a sort, you also accused me of cheating many times within the last week or two of our relationship because i 1) didnt let you log into my discord, you never told me why you wanted to and i wasnt ready to talk to you about a few things until i saw you(or was supposed to) 2) called you a new petname, i called you a lot of things related to the moon i dont understand why that upset you 3) everyone you talked to about us said i was cheating(ill admit, im still a bit disappointed your mom thought that too.). i cant think of anything else at the moment. but still its all bad, right? i dont know anymore. i still feel like i deserved everything you did to me. but ive been told i dont. that i didnt deserve the sexual pressure and the sexualization, that i deserved a nurturing relationship. but you still helped shape who i am now, mostly for the worst, but i know what not to do now so thats something?

im gonna end this here. its long enough, ill continue at a later date if i need to, reblogging is a thing here. i just needed somewhere to say this. theres more to say but god this is long?? enough for now??? and i need to do other things. on a side note, i hope osiris is doing well.

[jaeqtstuff]

― 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊

words count: 1.7k

playlist: ghost by justin bieber (recommend to listen to it while reading, just to get the feels because im suck at angst lol)

pls note that english is not my first language. but i had fun writing this so i hope you too! xx

[10:15pm] after escaping the most boring blind date that your friend set you up with, you came across the usual late night bar that you used to go during your days with beomgyu. yeah, your famous ex among your peers.

everybody knows how in love, how insanely perfect the two of you were for a love story but that was during high school. college was a whole different story. it suddenly becomes so toxic that it drained both of you. waking up every morning was a burden to the point you can't even breath in each other presence. you didn't know what went wrong, neither did he but as years passed, it was all because of childish reason. the most hurtful thing about this one is, you knew it could be saved but you didn't do anything. and neither did he.

"whiskey on the rocks." you choose to sit far from others, wanting more privacy. the bartender seems to recognise you by the way his mouth formed a big smile as if he was welcoming a friend. you smiled back, nonetheless.

let's just call it off. it's better this way. i mean can you do this everyday? doesn't this itch you?

you shut you eyes close as you slowly savouring every drops of it. why does it taste bitter? it shouldn't taste like this. i should've just go home.

fucking sick of it. fucking sick of everything and just piss off. don't you get tired of me? honestly i am. so get lost from my fucking sight.

the more you sip, the bitter it got. you didn't enjoy it. maybe that's the reason why some people avoid old places but you were there, drinking alone in the most romantic set up you could ever imagine for a late night bar, the low dimmed lights and slow soul music playing in the background and not to mention all the couple around you. you hate it so much but you can't deny the obvious fact that you missed it. you miss how this place used to caress you with memories you still keep in the deepest part of your heart.

"do people still come over to sing?" you casually asked the bartender as he slips your second drink. you remember how beomgyu used to say that he will sing at the small stage and dedicate a song for you infront of everyone in the bar but he never did.

"well yes. in fact, we're preparing for one." he replied, with much excitement at you. you look passed your shoulders, eyes fixed to the small stage at the corner. they were getting ready with the mic and there was single stool with a guitar at the side.

"he's a good singer." the bartender commented as he was wiping all the utensils he had used just now with a clean cloth. "really?" you look away from the stage and bring your glass close to the mouth. without wasting much, you gulped down the rest of the drink in one go before taking out your purse to pay. you could hear the soft melody of guitar playing at the back but you were more focus with the text displayed on your home screen. "it's weekend. leave me the fuck alone." you hissed under your breath.

Youngblood thinks there's always tomorrow

I miss your touch on nights when I'm hollow

I know you crossed a bridge that I can't follow

Since the love that you left is all that I get

I want you to know that if I can't be close to you

I settle for the ghost of you

I miss you more than life

you shut the phone away and bring the card out to pay. you waited for the bartender to notice you but you were now interested with the song. your head unknowingly move with the beat, fingers tapping slowly on your bare legs. the lights on the stage were too dimmed and you couldn't see well who was the one singing but his voice was causing a whole war flashback in your head.

And if you can't be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life

you never knew a song could break you so much, not when you least expected it but the one singing was also not helping the situation any better. he was singing his heart out, as if he was the one writing the lyrics from some kind of painful experience he ever had in his life. anyone in the bar could say the same thing.

Youngblood thinks there's always tomorrow

I need more time but time can't be borrowed

I'd leave it all behind if I could follow

Since the love that you left is all that I get

I want you to know that if I can't be close to you

the more you listen, the more your heart ached. all these years, you thought you moved on from him. you can finally accept the fact that you can live without him by your side. in those years, it's a lie if you say you never thought of him during those drunken nights with your friends. but tonight was brutal. you could relate to the lyrics so much that you had trouble holding yourself back from any breakdown that would cost you every time you said you were good without him.

I'll settle for the ghost of you

I miss you more than life, yeah

you were never good.

And if you can't be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy (oh)

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life

you were never calm after both of you called it off. you forced yourself to drink every night so that you can sleep without thinking of him but the terrible headaches every morning was torture. the moment you get up, he was all over in your head. you remember how you wanted to run back to him every night, tell him to forget all the bad pieces and just start new but by looking at the sight of it, it would make you throw up. you definitely knew it will make things worse.

you looked at the stage, still trying to see who was the one singing. heart still hurting but deep down, you were expecting something out of wicked love story. the tears building up in your eyes were not helping as your visions got blurry from the lyrics. blinking the tears away, you were nervous to look back to the stage again.

So if I can't get close to you

I'll settle for the ghost of you

But I miss you more than life

And if you can't be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy

you breathed in deeply, struggling to gain your composure. nonetheless, the shaky eyes went back to the stage where suddenly, the lights around the stage were slowly looking brighter. you could clearly see how he was playing the guitar effortlessly with his eyes closed. the expression on his face was tormentingly raw or maybe it was just your eyes telling the lies to the mind, telling you that he was also in much pain just like you were. one thing for sure, you eyes couldn't lie the one infront of you.

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life

how can you forget his voice? you gasped for air, breathed in every sharp air you could get because you knew, the night will only get worse, will only wreck you even more than it did before. you could never get better from it.

the people around you start clapping, telling you that he was done singing on the stage. you could hear the soft giggle from the mic before the countless thank you from him. you carefully eyed him at the stage before taking out the cash from your purse, putting the card back inside. you couldn't be bothered about the points because the last thing you want was beomgyu seeing you in this helpless state. smudge eyeliner and mascara because of the tears and also the short lacy black dress you were wearing. it was too obvious.

so you left without looking back. and oh boy, the moment the cold air hit your face, you couldn't hold back the tears. no, you were weeping, sobbing, almost throwing up on the side road. walking to home will be hard but you were quick to stop a cab.

thank god the tears stop the moment you were in the cab. the warm seat kinda cool you down a bit but your heart was eager. you didn't stop there and pulled out the phone from your back. eventhough you didn't contact each other, you knew where to find him and in those nights like this, you always check on him. last time you did was two years ago and maybe it should just stay unchecked.

the moment it hits you, there i knew i am still holding on to the past just like how i always did. and perhaps it's because you are always there. not leaving me nor forget about me. i will just settle like this, holding on to that life i miss most. ― 15 minutes ago

wish you can stay longer so that this night would not be lonely again but it's not what i thought it is. i'm sorry. ― 2 minutes ago

you lost at the last words and now fighting your own mind, telling the cab to turn around but you couldn't get the words out from your mouth. you knew beomgyu saw you, he probably saw you in that bar. sitting alone at the furthest table from the rest. he probably saw how you were struggling in your seat, looking so pathetic in that dress.

he was right. beomgyu was right.

this night will only get lonelier. if only you stayed, maybe things could change but you knew, it can only work if both of you wanted it. he had his chance but he didn't use it. in between those tears, you laugh it off, thinking how stupid could you be with just simple words like 'i'm sorry', you were ready to throw yourself again to the deepest pit of hell with him.

choi beomgyu,

the only man who wreck you this much. the only man who can prove to you that there will be no other lover like him.

"choi beomgyu."

[tooruluv]

Tobio Kageyama x F!Reader ( part 3 )

❝ goodbyes hurt when the story is not finished, but the book is closed. tell me, have we started a new one? ❞

description: it had been years since you and kageyama broke up. it had been years since the two of you left each other, hatred brewing. fate works in funny ways, you thought, as you caught his eye across the café. love works in funny ways, you thought, as you woke up in his bed the next morning, his fiance calling his phone.

genre: forbidden love, cheating, ex lovers, (all characters are aged up)

word count: 1,724

warnings/notes: strong language, cheating, lowkey toxic relationship. but what else is new? this one doesn’t have anything crazy

tag list: @kara-grayson04​​ @sadhwstudent​​ @unlikelytigerqueen​ @kageyamavibes​

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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Tobio Kageyama stood there, only in sweats, and shrugged. He shrugged. You were about to throw something, hit him with anything, when he spoke. This wasn’t the worst fight the two of you had ever been in, but it was definitely up there.

Because this time, it was you doing most of the yelling. “Hana? Out of everyone? Out of everyone? Are you fucking serious?”

The day you told Kageyama that you were leaving. That day had been the last time you and Kageyama talked. Or, rather, he talked.

It was something you knew for a really long time. Your parents had received a job in the states and you had held off telling him that you were going for as long as you could. Until you couldn’t anymore.

Makeup running down your face, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. And he stood in front of you.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Because you couldn’t bare the thought of telling him. Because you couldn’t look at his face when you said you were going to be gone. Because you didn’t know how he would react. Because you didn’t want to go.

But, despite all of those reasons, you said, “I was scared.”

“You were scared to tell me?”

“Yeah.”

You were literally standing at the airport. In front of the door, your plane ready to take off in two hours. When you said you waited until last second, you truly did.

“You were scared? You waited months. Months.”

“I know I did.” You reached forward but he stepped back. More tears fell down your face. “I just… I just couldn’t think of a way to tell you. I love you so much and I… I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

“How’s this for goodbye,” Kageyama barely blinked. “I hate you.”

Your body seized. Hana, who stood beside you, took your hand but you didn’t feel it. Your entire being fell numb.

“You let me believe we had more time. You let me stay with you, fall in love with you, all when you knew. You knew that you were leaving. And you didn’t tell me for months. I hate you.”

“I hate you.” You would hate him, too, if it was the other way around.

“Babe!”

You stood at the door to the gym, a bag of food for your boyfriend. He had been so preoccupied trying to master this move for volleyball and hadn’t spent much time with him, so you figured you would leave him some food for that break he takes between practice ending and his own practice (which means several hours with Hinata after everyone left).

The entire team turned to face you. Tobio Kageyama’s face flushed.

He rushed to you, long strides pulling him across the gym. Over his shoulder, two of the boys followed.

“Hey, uh,” Kageyama was awkward. It made you giggle. “What’re you doing here?”

“I brought you some food.” You handed him the bag, and a bottle of water just in case. “You didn’t eat lunch today and I wanted to make sure you at least had a little bit.”

“Kageyama, who is this?” one of the boys, the shorter one, asked as the other one, the tall bald one, said “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!”

“Hi!” you smiled and waved at them.

The team introduced themselves, and you smiled at all of them. Kageyama may have been your boyfriend, but he wasn’t one to introduce you to friends. Or, rather, teammates. Daichi, the captain, even started to lecture your boyfriend on his lack of eating.

“I had milk…” he mumbled.

“Listen, it isn’t what you think.” Is all Kageyama said. Of course it was all he said.

“It isn’t what I think?” you scoffed, looking to the ceiling. “We broke up and you’re marrying my best friend. It’s exactly what I think.”

“Your best friend that you haven’t talked to in five years.”

“Two.”

“What?”

“Two years. I haven’t talked to her in two years.” You were pissed. Maybe a good old catch up with Hana would make things up, maybe punching her in her stupid perfect teeth would make the nausea in your stomach go away. “And it’s because she stopped talking to me.”

“I don’t get why you’re mad at me.” He was just as pissed, and he probably had way more pent up anger at you. “Maybe if you actually put effort into things, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“Maybe if I put an effort into things? You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“Yes, if you put an effort into things. Maybe if you fucking talked to people, maybe if you stayed, maybe if you…”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear you tell me what to do or what I should’ve done when you’re the one who cheated on your fiancé.”

“Crazy how you’re this mad when you’re the mistress.”

You grabbed a couch pillow and threw it at him. It was the closest thing you could grab. You wanted a glass, or a plate. Maybe that fake potted plant in the corner will go next.

“You’re such a dick!” you yelled, getting ready to throw another pillow.

Somehow, he reached you before you could throw it. He caught your hands with his wrists, stopping you. You were breathing heavy.

“You know, I thought running into you would give some closure.” Kageyama said. His voice was low, calm, collected. “I thought that maybe, this was it and it was one final time to get the last of the feelings out of my system.”

“Yeah, me too.” You stared into his eyes. They were just as blue as when you left. “Guess we were both wrong.”

You ripped your arms out of his grasp. He let you.

“Marrying Hana. My best friend.” You were standing further away, but you could still feel his breath. “That’s probably lower than anything I’ve ever done to you.”

And you left. You turned around, snatched your bag, and left. As the elevator closed, you watched him watch you.

Hana was the one who hugged you before you left. She was the last one, other than your family, to see you. She held your head, pulled you to her body, let you cry on her shoulder until they called your plane.

She was your best friend.

While you were in the states, she would facetime you. Call you. Text you updates.

The day you left, she texted you. She kept her end of the deal, too.

hana <3: told tsuki today hana <3: we kissed!! basically i was nervous for no reason lol

you: omg omg omg congrats! at least one of us is having a good time hfksbfsksl

hana <3: don’t worry ab boys. ur gonna have so much fun and meet new people. im always here 4 u.

“I’m on my way over.” You spoke into the phone, hands still shaking with withheld anger.

“You sound pissed. Can’t wait.”

The first time you and Kageyama kissed was a little bit into the relationship. It was a couple of months in, and he asked you to go for a walk with him.

“A walk?” you asked, looking around your room for a fitting outfit. “It’s early. And it’s Saturday.”

“I know. I’m outside of your house. Meet me outside whenever you’re ready.”

“You’re insane. Give me five.”

That week, you spent time with Oikawa. Your stomach flipped with the idea that Kageyama had finally had enough of you hanging out with him, or maybe he was going to tell you that he was jealous again. You didn’t know, but an early morning walk with your boyfriend didn’t sound very relaxing.

Cautiously, you met him on your porch. He greeted you with a simple nod, hands in his pockets.

“Um, before we begin, can I say something?” he asked.

You nodded. A jolt through your entire body.

“I know that I complain a lot. And I know that I… I know that I’m not very good with feelings.” He was talking slowly. Practiced. “But I want you to know that even though you spend time with Oikawa, I know that he’s your best friend and I just get jealous. And I want you to know that I know you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You confirmed.

“So, I wanted to do this before we started walking.”

And, with that, he leaned down and kissed you. It was a small kiss, a peck to your lips, and he had to bend down to do so. But you felt everything lift off of your shoulders. You were flying.

When he pulled back, he smiled. Genuinely. You did, too.

“Now, I think a walk is in order.” You looped your arm through where he still held his in his pockets.

Oikawa opened the door, tilting his head at the sight of you. You stood in his doorway, very obviously stressed out and face red with both tears and yelling. You had your hood up, hair still messy from the night.

“You look like you just got done having the best dick ever.” He joked.

You rushed forward, capturing his lips with yours. He staggered back, gripping your hips as you closed the door with your ankle. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. You were chest to chest, your hands on his shoulders and standing on your toes.

He pulled away to ask, “So we’re doing this again?”

“I’m pissed off.” You kissed him again. Your hands held the waistband of his jeans. “I’m in dire need of a very big distraction.”

“I’m not complaining.” Oikawa grabbed your jaw and pulled you in again.

[binunus]

college bf!mj

a/n AH !!!! THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE ASTRO COMEBACK ???? APRIL 5TH ??? WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE LOVES !! i genuinely...do not know if I will be able to survive this month bc of them. 

(also i tried to get this posted on mj’s birthday but I’m so sorry a lot of shit happened and I had a ~bad mental breakdown~ and it’s just been rough out here but that’s a story for another time if any of you lovely beings wanna know hehe)

→ genre: fluff, smut

→ tw: mentions of cheating (in past relationships)

→ word count: 4.9k ____________________________________

KIM MYUNGJUN !!

A LIVING REINCARNATION OF THE SUN

this is gonna be so cute i just !! love him so much???

has his own apartment, but he honestly stays over all of the boys’ places so much that...he barely sleeps at his apt

major: vocal performance

his voice is literally honey

can probably sing higher than some sopranos in his major

so friendly, everyone who meets him loves him

mj just has a way of attracting people and making people comfortable around him

in short, he is – of course – the moodmaker

can turn anyone’s frown upside down

he’s down?? for like everything

an adventurous spontaneous type

has...probably failed a ged ed class once or twice before...

he’s not stupid okay! he just doesn’t really care about the classes that has no connection to his major

like will he ever apply calculus in singing? probably not

oh but professors can’t hate him, even if he just messes around during class

he’s just so kind and likeable

loves his boys aka astro

will literally do anything to make them smile, even if he’s had a rough day

as long as his boys are happy :’) he’s happy :’)

now how do you meet myungjun??

he’s in an acapella group on campus

he just has to be alright

he was the only freshman that got in during his first year

that shows how good he is :*

a tenor in the highly competitive co-ed group

spoiler alert, he convinces sanha to join, but that’s for college bf!sanha

myungjun is what me and my friends like to call: the solo whore

and it’s not bc he’s greedy for solos, he’s a real team player

his voice just happens to sound the best for most solos your group has??

you’re also in the acapella group

im not giving a voice part bc then that would put you in a binary category

so soprano, alto, tenor, baritone, bass, you pick love

anyway, you and myungjun were chosen to sing a duet for one of your competition pieces

and it was the key emotional piece so you and him had to be on your A games

you and myungjun were friends ofc, you had to be some sort of friends with everyone in your acapella group

but you never really hung out with him outside of rehearsal

well until you got this duet together

and you weren’t worried about it, mj was so fun and nice and an amazing singer, you had no doubt these extra practices with him would be a good time

and you were right! besides singing, you actually got a chance to get to know him and how goofy he really was

you’re pretty sure you always had an ab workout whenever you hung out with him bc of how much he made you laugh

about a month away from competition, you and myungjun were like best buds

literally a chaotic, iconic duo

the chemistry you two had during your duet was spectacular, your voices highlighted and bounced off each other very well

but! your leader had a little critique

“y/n, myungjun, that was great but...can you guys pretend to look...like in love? I get we’re all friends here, but if you can’t convey the emotion of the song in our performance, what’s the point? This goes for everyone, this is a song about how much you love your partner and would give them the world, we need to show that in our eyes and movements, even if you’re just singing ooh and woah for like 10 measures.”

you and myungjun decide to stay after rehearsal and practice the emotions you guess...

your leader had a point, good singing could only go so far

and for the first time, myunjun was a bit...? awkward??

you: alright so how are we gonna pretend to be madly in love with each other

he chuckles and shrugs: honestly I don’t know, look at me like I’m your boyfriend or something??

you: well, I hate my last boyfriend so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea

myungjun offering you a high-five: I hate...well I think I hate...my last partner too so at least we have that

you: how do you think you hate your last partner? are you not dating anyone right now?

he gives you a smile and like you notice it’s forced?? it’s not genuine or bright like the one he usually gives

mj: no I’m not dating anyone...my last relationship sorta traumatized me I guess. 

you: ...how did it traumatize you...? you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to myungjun

mj: ah *awkward laughter* well...I was sorta going through it my senior year of high school, stress from graduating and what to do with my life and all that shit, you know? I dated this person since my freshman year and I guess my mental health got the best of me during that time and they couldn’t handle it. We were planning on staying together throughout college and do long distance but I found out in the summer before starting college that they fucked my high school best friend behind my back...when I confronted them about it, the answer they gave me was that I was too down and preoccupied with my worries to notice about my partner’s needs...pretty fucked up right?

your jaw dropped, your eyes were bulging out at his story

you: myungjun what the fuck??? what college do they go to? I’ll pull up right now and beat their asses, I don’t know scream in their face or something! That’s fucked!

he’s laughing a little: thanks y/n, but it’s alright. You know, maybe I was too caught up in my own problems that I ended up neglecting my partner’s needs...I guess that’s why I’m always just trying to be carefree and fun now.

you: that doesn’t justify the fact that what they did to you was wrong. you should have never gone through that myungjun, it’s not your fault that you were going through it mentally, your partner should have been there to support you and understand your struggles, not cheat on you with your best friend. ugh I’m pissed for you. 

mj: I appreciate it y/n, but yeah love’s sorta a hard subject for me.

you nod in understanding

mj: well! that’s my traumatic breakup story, it’s only fair you share yours

you laugh: you’re right. Well I was dating this guy right when I entered college, met him at the freshman orientation, completely hit it off. I was so in love with him, we dated for about a year. And then last semester he broke up with me out of nowhere, said he wanted to focus on school and himself and that he needed a break from dating. I found out two days later that he started dating one of his suite mates and that on the night he broke up with me, they fucked. So love? also something hard for me.

mj: aww look at us both unable to find or relate to love because of past relationship traumas.

you hit his shoulder laughing: you’re such a headass

mj: I’m kidding! anyway, I’m sorry you went through that too y/n. it sucks and your ex is a dumbass for breaking up with you. Do you still have feelings for him? w-wait, you don’t have to answer that, was that insensitive?

you: you’re fine haha. Um...well...sometimes when I overthink things at night, I do miss him and I wonder what the hell I did wrong for it to end so abruptly because I was honestly really happy with him, but then I wake up in the morning and I hate him again. 

mj: you did nothing wrong y/n...and if you need to call me at 2 am when you’re overthinking and need some badass confidence knocked into you, I will be awake.

you smile and give him a hug: thanks myungjun...you know the same goes for you too?

mj: hm??? what do you mean??

you: you don’t always have to smile around me, especially if you don’t feel like it. Don’t repress your mental health, huh? It’s bad for the soul to bottle it in. I’m not gonna force you to share your darkest fears with me, I’m just saying that if you feel drained and wanna talk about it, I’m here to listen

myungjun pouts a little bit, he’s really touched?? it’s hard for him to share his troubles with others

like as much as he loves astro and is close to them, he doesn’t share his down sides with the boys as often as he should bc he never wants to burden them

myungjun just always thought it was easier to suppress the bad feelings and put on a happy act

but he couldn’t deny the weight lifted off his shoulders after telling you about his breakup

and maybe it was because your energies were on a different level lately, but he found it so?? easy?? to just vent to you after that

until competition, the two of you worked on faking like you were in love (basically imagining that each other was your favorite actor/actress or whatever, something like that)

it was good enough for the group to believe it lol

but what about the judges and audience hmmmmm

anyway, fast forward and it’s competition day!!

myungjun introduces you to his best friends aka the boysss aka astro

they come and support him for his competition ugh we love

you’re like smiling and hyper when you meet them

...has myungjun been rubbing off on you???

you: it’s so nice to meet you all! myungun always talks so highly of you

astro: huh?? you’re lying, myungjun hyung complimenting us???

and then they start messing and friendly bickering with each other and yes they’re teasing mj

you’re laughing bc it’s so cute?? you can see in their eyes and their smiles how much they really care about each other :’)

also astro, probably jin or eunwoo, maybe rocky: we’re sorry if m hyung has driven you to insanity these past few months of rehearsing

you just laugh as myungjun hits them: myungjun’s actually been like my partner in crime lately, so we’re all good :)

*cue the boys exchanging looks with each other*

you perform ah ha ha

alright, you were so used to thinking that myungjun was...idk kim soohyun or something bc mm chef’s kiss his acting...to get into the emotion of the song

but then during the actual performance you saw him as myungjun and like all the hard work and extra practices and late night talks came in full force and you were just...singing to him

and you notice how...handsome?? and charismatic?? myungjun really is...and the little sparkle in his eyes when he’s performing like...wow

and after your set, you’re just like shit, what the fuck was that??

your group doesn’t win though, you place second!

but you and myungjun get awarded best solo/duet of the entire competition

astro: ;)

your acapella group: ;)

the judges: ;)

alright so im a firm believer that if myungjun had feelings for someone, he would straight up tell them like balls to the wall full fucking send

after competition, the routine of school comes back. you occasionally hang out with myungjun outside of rehearsal

by occasionally, I mean once a week hangout with myungjun (and astro bc they started inviting you to their dinners)

and then one night – at midnight – he calls you like out of pocket and his tone is like completely serious

you’re a bit scared?? like: myungjun...is everything okay? did something happen?

mj: y/n...can I ask you something?

you: yeah, of course

mj: do you still think about your ex?

you: o_o um...honestly no, not really...why?

mj: well, if I’m being honest. y/n, I have feelings for you. And i’m not asking you to like me back or give me an answer straight away, but I just wanted to let you know. If you don’t think about your ex anymore, and if you think you’re ready...maybe you can consider thinking of me??

mmmmm kim myungjun you slick flirty dog grrr bark bark

and you know how he can just talk, and talk fast, so you’re still in the middle of processing this and he just goes on like

“sleep on it, y/n. I’ll see you soon for rehearsal, okay? good night”

like you don’t even have a chance to respond to him bc he just hangs up the phone

you think about it, of course you think about it, you’ve been thinking about it ever since competition

having feelings for myungjun has always been in the back of your mind since then

like did you notice that when you hung out with him, your heart would flutter if he said something sweet?? or if you two were a bit too close to each other?? 100%

but you didn’t know if either of you were ready for another relationship so it’s just been put on the back burner

at the next acapella practice, you find that your cheeks just flush whenever myungjun looks your way

the rehearsal went a bit??? weird?? like even your group noticed that there was a bit of a tension between you and myungjun

but of course, he goes up and talks to you after rehearsal ended and he’s like: hey...I’m sorry if my confession made you feel weird, I didn’t mean for that at all. If you want, we can just forget about what I said and stay friends! 

you just facepalm like: myungjun you idiot, I’m acting weird because I like you too. God, you know maybe the boys are right, maybe you need to shut your mouth for a little bit

and he whines like: hey!

but then he realizes what you said and he gives you the brightest smile: you mean it?? you like me back??

and you’re like shyly smiling now: yeah...I do...but do you want to take the next step?? I mean...do you think you’re ready for another relationship??

he gets like serious and he grabs your hand: not gonna lie, I don’t think I’ll ever be fully ready after my last one...but if there’s someone I wanna try it with, it’s you.

:’) kim !!! myung !!! jun !!!

dating myungjun?? the best thing ever

the cutest boy alive honestly

he has so much cute and goofy in him already with just friends and strangers

but with you, it’s increased tenfold

even you start to act cute and goofy after dating him

petnames?? bub and bubby

myungjun is not serious about a lot of things, but he is very serious about his feelings for you and your relationship

y’all take things at your own pace and he !! values !! consent !! even if it’s just like making out

he just doesn’t wanna mess things up with you :’)

the type of boyfriend to sing you to sleep ah !!! his voice is heaven alright

will be extra about pda in front of the guys to make them grossed out

and yes you get embarrassed, but myungjun’s too cute to scold

you get used to a lot of second-hand embarrassment dating him and being friends with the boys

but it’s just so endearing, you can’t even fight it

will swing your arms together when you’re out just walking

screams he’s so cute

you don’t really fight bc communicating with each other is one of the biggest things in your relationship

like if a disagreement or a situation comes up, you two are mature enough to talk it through and work things out bc you both already been knew what it’s like to be in a relationship that didn’t have full transparency

you do jokingly bicker about small things though (like think about how astro fights)

but he always ends fights by scooping you up in a hug and showering your face with kisses

loves kissing your nose

just imagine: you and myungjun cuddling and he just kisses your nose and you scrunch up your face and he just laughs and kisses you all over and you two end up giggling

will do anything to see a smile on your face, it’s the greatest sight to him

alright we been talking too much about how cute myungjun is

he’s also a hot motherfucker alright

the most attractive when he’s singing in your opinion

you know how charismatic he is, you’ve seen it first hand during rehearsal and performances

he’s very good at hiding his horniness, especially in public

but phew when you two are in private and myungjun’s in the mood

you can tell bc his eyes just get hazy and he immediately just starts kissing your neck

a very passionate lover, will prioritize your pleasure over his

sex with myungjun can go from being sweet and sensual, to fun and playful, to hot and exciting

by that...I mean that he is down to try every kink and position you can think of

as long as both of you are okay with it ofc

he’s one of the kinkiest members in astro im convinced

blindfolds? bondage? ice cubes? wax play?

you want it? you got it

he’s not into feet though, i apologize to my foot fetish lovers

his favorite position is actually missionary

myungjun loves being able to watch you and to see how good he’s making you feel

in missionary is when he feels the most connected to you, it’s just a passionate position

and yes he’s very vocal, so you betcha he encourages you to be vocal as well

will try to mess with you in a sense where say you two are hanging out with the guys, he’ll touch you and challenge you to not make a noise

and then he’ll snicker and wink at you if you even let out a peep

he’s a tease !!! like will edge you until you’re on the brink of cumming at least 3 times

myungjun has pretty good stroke game alright

very fluid with his hips, idk he just knows all the right spots to hit

praise...kink...that’s the tweet, need I say more

he’s into hair pulling !! both ways !! 

okay hear me out...myungjun fucking you and pulling your hair until your screaming and then after you both cum, he’s like: you hit a high f earlier bub! I almost wanted to harmonize with you but–

you: myungjun are you serious!

sex with him would always just be a fun time, like he’s hot and grrr it feels so good but there’s always a bit of laughing and joking around in the process

like he will tickle you before he puts his cock in you just to see the switch of you laughing to moaning

alright but shower sex?? he’s into that

and just the acoustics of both of your sounds in the bathroom?? it’s so filthy he loves it – and it’s easy to clean up afterwards

you bet that after any performance with your group, the two of you have sex, even if it’s just a quickie in an empty practice room or whatever

no shame, will kick the boys out or announce “we’re going to fuck bye!” if you or him get too horny in the middle of a hangout

im just gonna throw this out here...you and myungjun...mile high club

(your group competed in an acapella competition and the flight there...it just happened)

all in all, myungjun just wants to make you happy and feel good and smile, even if you two just finished an intense sex session

let’s get into the deep stuff though, you are the only person myungjun is comfortable with to not show a smile all the time

even with the boys, there’s always a small part of him that wants to just push through and be optimistic just so that they won’t worry

but with you, he knows that it’s okay to be sad and to be vulnerable :’)

when myungjun cries bc he’s upset :( fuck you cry too

he loves when you just hug him and stroke his hair when he’s stressed

very showy about your relationship, not bc he’s braggy, but bc he just wants to show the world how happy you make him and that he’s in love <3

the boys are so happy to see their eldest in love :’)

they don’t show it around each other, but they’ve come up to you in private and say sweet things like

“you make myungjun hyung so happy, he always brings joy to everyone but you bring joy to him, thank you”

im !! getting !! sentimental !!

the day you found out myungjun was in love with you was the day you met his parents

‘twas a bit spontaneous

his parents came to see one of your group performances and myungjun’s like holding your hand and leading you somewhere after you get off stage and he’s like “bub! these are my parents!”

you end up getting dinner with his family and yikes you were hella nervous, you were not expecting on meeting his parents right after your performance

not gonna lie, you thought he was leading you to the car for some post-performance sex

but they adored you, his parents could see how much you meant to their son ugh I cry

anyway, the L word

as you’re finishing dinner, myungjun’s all giddy and just like

“I’m so glad you came and watched mom and dad, the timing was perfect too! I wanted to introduce you to y/n for a while now and have you meet the person I love.”

and his parents are just smiling at you and saying how they’re so happy to finally meet you and how you have an amazing voice and to take care of myungjun and you’re !!! just !!! blushing !!!

as soon as you both got in the car after saying goodbye to his parents, he’s just like: hope I didn’t surprise you too much bubby, I didn’t know my parents were coming to watch until like an hour before we went on stage

you just give him a little smile: I was a bit caught off guard, but it’s okay. Your parents are so sweet, I see where you get it from bub.

myungjun: I can tell that they love you already! well of course not as much as I do, but with time I know they’ll come pretty close

and you’re blushing again, it’s the L word: do you mean it myungjun?

myungjun: that my parents love you?? of course–

you: no, bub...that you...love me?

myungjun: yeah...unless you don’t feel the same way–

you: myungjun! no, of course I do! I just wasn’t expecting the first time to hear it was with your parents

you two are laughing, ugh this man

after your giggles subside, he leans over from the driver’s seat and he just cups your cheek and pecks your nose: I love you y/n, thank you for reminding me what love feels like

you: I love you too myungjun

and then you two are just like sharing a sweet kiss in the parking lot of the restaurant before starting the drive back to his place

do you and myungjun make duets together for fun and post it?? yeah probably

you are the luckiest dating myungjun, the living breathing embodiment of serotonin and love

even when you two are older and out of college, he still gives you the same affection and attention and authenticity ugh he’s just amazing

im so sorry this was late but happy belated to our happy virus <3

3-12-21

[meltwonu]

s n a k e     |     e y e s     [chapter 4]

pairing; snakehybrid!woozi x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; 🥰💕 HELLO Y’ALL! Strap in for the longest chapter yet fdjhgkkhsf also just,,, i know hybrid aus are different and in the real life only female mammals go into heat but as u kno this is fiction and a hybrid au so for the sake of that, heat cycles r not gonna follow irl rules if u kno what im sayin!!! Also fingering and a little bit of dirty talk, and jihoon being a cheeky lil shit🥴🤤 again thank u all for taking interest in snake eyes!! 💕💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x - x - x

You try to avoid Jihoon for a couple days, going to the office building where you sometimes worked to try and buy yourself some time away from the snake hybrid. You can’t tell if he notices your eagerness to be away from home but you apologize to him in your head, leaving cash on the table for food when you leave in the morning for the third day in a row.

And although Jihoon may not mind your absence that much, your co-workers take notice of how often you’d been coming to the office lately.

“Is everything okay at home?”

You spin your chair around to face the cubicle next to yours, meeting the curious eyes of Seungkwan, a junior writer that had worked with you a few times. You worked as a journalist at a magazine company; sometimes taking the part of an editor when nobody was available. Thankfully, your job allowed you to work from home a lot of the time which you preferred, up until a few days ago anyway.

“Huh? Oh yeah, things are okay. Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing just… You almost never come in, like, 3 days in a row? Minghao was starting to get worried too, to be honest.” Minghao was the editor in chief at your magazine company and was actually a good friend of yours. You valued his opinion more than anyone as he was insanely level headed and always lead you in the right direction when you needed a helping hand. He also had a hybrid at home, which you had forgotten about until now.  

“Oh… I mean, my mattress has been kinda… y’know, getting old so…”

“What does that have to do with you coming in 3 days in a row? Really, are you okay? You’re not making much sense...”

“I--I think I need to talk to Minghao.”

Knocking on Minghao’s office door, you try to balance the two cups of coffee in your opposite hand, making sure they don’t spill as you grasp the door knob.

“Come in!”

Pushing the door open, you shoot Minghao a lopsided smile as you hold up the coffees, kicking the door shut behind you.

“Wow, can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… 3 days in a row? Something’s… off.” You sigh, setting the cups of coffee down on Minghao’s desk before sitting down in one of the seats across from him. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Well.. the last time you came in this often was when you broke up with your ex… What was his name? Soonyoung?” The name strikes a chord inside you, almost dropping the cup in your hand when you bring it to your lips to take a sip. It’s not that the relationship with Soonyoung had gone sour necessarily, in all honesty it was better than the two of you had broken up because both of you were too focused on your jobs to be in a relationship at the time. However, it still had been somewhat hard to get over; you were used to having Soonyoung around in your life and apartment and having Jihoon around was surely filling in that space lately.

“Uh, yeah, that’s him. I mean, I just… I have some questions if it’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course. We’re friends before co-workers. What’s up?”

“You… have a hybrid too, right?”

“I do… wait, you said ‘too’. Did you get a hybrid? Is that why you’ve been so out of whack?”

“Well, I did... His name is Jihoon and he’s a snake hybrid.”

Minghao can see you fidgeting from across the table, his eyes focused on the way you can’t even make eye contact with him. “He’s not… hurting you, is he?”

“What! No! Never, he’s really kind and…” You trail off, a blush creeping onto your face the longer you simmer in your own thoughts.

“Let me guess, you like him like him, don’t you.”

“I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

When you get home from the office, the sun’s already been down for a couple hours.

You’d taken the longer way back, thinking about everything you and Minghao had talked about and making some decisions for yourself before making it home. You even stopped at the cafe, grabbing a small dinner and checking to see if the cute barista Jun was around. Sadly, he was not.

“Jihoon, are you here?”

“In the bedroom!” Trudging over, you see Jihoon exiting from the attached bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel. “You got back just in time. I… um, ran you a bath! It’s still warm so…” He trails off, sitting quietly on the bed as he watches your eyes flit from the bathroom to him.

“How’d you know I’d get back around this time? It’s very sweet of you Jihoon but also… why?” The snake hybrid fidgets, hands curling around the hem of his sleeves. “Um… I dunno, you seemed kinda tense lately. And you always do nice stuff for me so I wanted to do something nice for you.  And you always come back around now, kinda. Guess I was just taking a chance?”

Any coherent thoughts leave your brain at how cute Jihoon is, a serene sigh leaving your lips as you step closer to him sitting on the bed. You run your fingers through his hair as he leans into your touch, wrapping his hands around your waist as he pulls you in closer.

“Hmm…”

“Something the matter?”

“You… don’t smell like you lately.” You break into a bit of a cold sweat, fingers pausing against his scalp. “O-oh.. I thought you said your sense of smell was better with your tongue?”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean my nose doesn’t work. And you smell like… other people. It’s weird. I’m not used to that.”

You blush again, pulling away from Jihoon as his hands fall from your waist.

“I should take that bath you ran for me while it’s still warm then, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

When you exit from the bathroom, Jihoon’s already under the covers waiting for you.

“Already going to bed?” He nods, a yawn on his lips as he tugs the covers higher up onto his body. “Did you eat already?” Jihoon nods again, patting your side of the bed.

You slide into bed next to him, eyes drawing random shapes onto the ceiling as you lay there wide awake.

“Hey Jihoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?” The snake hybrid turns to face you, turning onto his side as you do the same. “Sure, shoot.” You feel nervous; thankful that it’s dark so he can’t see the way your skin flushes red. “I… sorry if this is stupid of me to ask but you… don’t go into heat, do you?”

Jihoon’s quiet for a moment, a cold hand wrapping around your wrist as he tugs you closer to him. “I can feel you getting warmer cause you’re probably embarrassed. It’s okay to ask. But can I ask why you’re asking?” Clearing your throat, your eyes adjust to the darkness, staring Jihoon straight in the eyes.

“Oh, I was talking to my f-friend earlier who has a bunny hybrid and… he said that his bunny hybrid goes into heat and I was just wondering? He makes his bunny hybrid take suppressants for his heat and I just… I guess I could’ve looked it up but I figured it’d just be better to ask you since we never really talked about it and it’s been a couple weeks since you’ve started living with me.” Jihoon processes your words, puffing his cheeks up in the darkness as he thinks.

“Technically no. I mean, like I’ve said before I don’t really have many snake-like features anyway so even if we did, I probably wouldn’t. But no… if there’s anything, I’ll probably be, um, a little sensitive to you--your, uh… cycle. Cause… smells and stuff.” This time it’s Jihoon’s turn to blush as he mentally kicks himself for his questionable reply.

“O-oh. I see… I mean, okay. That’s good? I mean, oh my god, about you not having to take suppressants! Not about… the other thing.” You can’t help but think that it’s been weeks since Jihoon started living with you which meant you’d already gone through a cycle and Jihoon hadn’t said a word about it.

“Yeah, I mean, I probably would’ve told you otherwise if it was a problem, I guess. But anyway, do you have any other pillow talk questions?”

“Um…”

“For the record, my dick is normal.”

“Jihoon!!” You can feel yourself start to sweat under the covers, mind conjuring up all sorts of inappropriate scenarios until Jihoon laughs out loud, his cold hand sliding under your neck as he wraps his other hand around your waist, effectively drawing you into him as he holds you tight against his chest.

Eventually all you hear is his steady breath, the quietness letting you know that he’s fallen asleep.

A few days pass since then, and you’re thankful that things go back to what you consider normal as you set up your work space in the living room. You’d texted Minghao a few times earlier, letting him know that things were getting better at home and that maybe he and Chan could come over for lunch sometime the next week. He agrees, telling you he’ll text you his free dates when he has time.

Jihoon was still asleep even though it was already closing in on 1PM in the afternoon. But you had chosen to not wake him up, letting the male sleep in as long as he wanted while you worked on a new draft for an article.

But it’s when you get up to make another cup of coffee after 30 minutes of working that you’re hit with a wave of arousal out of nowhere; body heating up in an instance as you feel wetness pooling between your thighs. Instead of making another cup of coffee, you immediately pick up your phone, swiping until you find your period tracker to check the dates. Fuck, you think, this would fucking happen to me after I fuckin’ asked Jihoon all those stupid questions!

The panic hits you like a ton of bricks when you hear the bedroom door opening. You wonder if there’s time to run out of the door and hide for god knows how long before Jihoon even sees you. But in the time it takes you to figure something out, Jihoon steps into the living room, hair still messy from sleep as he stretches. You watch his movements, hyper aware of the fact he can probably smell you to some degree from where he stands. And it was fine when you didn’t know he was sensitive to your cycle but now you did know which made things a little more complicated.

“Did you already make lunch? I’m starving.” Your throat feels dry, but you try to compose yourself to the best of your ability. You almost wish he hadn’t said anything about being sensitive to your cycle in the first place because the hyperawareness was apparently already eating you alive.

“Oh, um, I can make some now actually! I was just about to! I’ll let you know when it’s ready!”

You all but power walk towards the kitchen, not waiting for his reply as you focus on making something to eat; hoping the smells from the kitchen bury the smell of you ovulating to his sensitive nose.

Jihoon is normal for the rest of the day, albeit you’re on edge. Regretfully, your conversations throughout the day are clipped, mentally apologizing to Jihoon again for your weird behaviour even if he seemed to be taking everything well. Your panties had been annoyingly wet all day, even when you’d gone to change them and it was almost time for bed again which had you panicking yet again.

You take your time to get ready for bed, slightly avoiding Jihoon until you realize there’s no getting out of it. There was a second where you debated asking him to sleep in his old room but it’d been so long since he’d slept there that you felt bad for asking.

When Jihoon calls your name, you exit the bathroom, turning off all the lights before slipping into bed next to him. You feel like a plank of wood next to him, awkwardly stiff as he tries to get you to face him.

“Hey…”

“Yes, Jihoon?”

“I don’t want you to feel awkward even though you’ve kinda been all day… It’s okay, y’know.” You turn away from him, facing the window in your bedroom. You can see the moonlight filtering in through the curtains and it distracts you for a second but you think about how you could cry at how genuinely sweet Jihoon was, even when you were being aloof all day. “Sorry it’s just… You’ve been here for weeks which means you already had… had to deal with me going through it once and you didn’t even say anything? I should’ve asked you sooner cause now I don’t know if you were okay and now that I know you know and you’re sleeping next to me still and I--”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay!”

Jihoon presses into you from behind, the coolness of his body permeating his sleep clothes and cooling down your heated body even just a little bit. “I was okay last time too. Like I said, if there were any problems I would’ve told you right?”

“Yeah, but--”

“No, no buts! It’s fine, really. If I’m being honest… it was kind of nice. You got extra warm during that time. Sorry if that’s kind of weird. Guess you can say I’m an opportunist.” There’s a slight chuckle to his voice as he wraps an arm around your waist. It’s silent for a beat as you slightly relax in his hold.

“Jihoon can I ask you another question?”

“Shoot.”

“Did you… um, were you like this with any of your past owners?” He sighs, nuzzling into your neck as he stares out window with you. “No. Never. Honestly, I’m a little shocked at myself too. But I guess it’s also because I spent most of the time alone when I was being adopted into other homes. You’re the first person who’s adopted me that’s around my age and… genuinely nice. I don’t feel like a show animal here.” The two of you fall into the first comfortable silence all day; Jihoon’s fingertips playing with the material of your sleep shirt.

“Can I try something?” You hum at his question, muttering a small ‘okay’ under your breath.

Jihoon starts slow, cold fingertips lifting your shirt inch by inch underneath the covers until your sleep shorts are exposed to his wandering hand. You can already feel your breath getting caught in your throat as his cold digits skim the waistband of your shorts. “Is this okay?”

“H-huh?”

“I need to know if this is okay, before I continue. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you because of what I said earlier.” You gulp hearing his words; technically, you’d both benefit from this.

“I… yes, I’m okay with this Jihoon. Please… continue.”

The snake hybrid is silent afterwards, his lips pressed against your clothed shoulder as his hand dips into your sleep shorts. His gentle touch has you moaning softly, eyes fluttering shut as you let him explore.

“You’ve been wet all day, haven’t you?”

“Uh… Uh-huh…”

“It’s cute you were trying to hide it like I didn’t already know.” His words are muffled against your shoulder, lips curling up into a cheeky smile that you can’t see. “I gotta be honest, I kind of regretted telling you at first, y’know? You were more open when you didn’t know. I was sad seeing you all clammed up and trying to hide from me earlier.” Jihoon’s fingertips press into the wet spot on your panties, garbled noises muffled by the pillowcase as you press your face into it slightly.

“I--Isn’t this w-weird?”

“Hmm? What’s weird about it?” Your body's on fire under the bed sheets and Jihoon’s touch and he’d barely even done anything to you yet. “I mean, y-you said you’ve never done this but---mmh, you seem so okay with it, J-Jihoon.”

His fingers play with the hem of your panties for a second before they slide against your skin, dipping deeper and deeper until they meet your wet folds. You moan, already rocking against his hand as you search for more contact. “I’m not completely inexperienced. And let’s be honest, hasn’t there been some tension between us anyway?” You almost grimace, knowing damn well you were suffering from your inappropriate dreams and your long ‘baths’ you would take to relieve yourself hoping he didn’t notice. But you also are surprised to hear that he, too, was feeling something towards you.

“Oh, uh… that’s...”

“Mm, I’m really sorry but your long ‘baths’ weren’t really fooling anyone you know.”

The embarrassment from his comment dies immediately when his fingers slide through your folds, spreading your wetness from your hole to your clit before rolling the nub between his fingertips. You moan Jihoon’s name, begging him to touch you more.

He indulges you, coating his middle finger in your wetness before easing it into your pussy. You immediately clench around the digit once he’s knuckle deep, whining when it’s not enough. Jihoon laughs slightly, pumping the digit in and out as he thumbs your clit.

“You’re so eager considering you were hesitant about this. Wanna talk about it?”

“Ngh, can--can we do that later? I’m so s-sensitive right now, Jihoon, I already feel like cumming… Can you… can you talk to me instead?”

“Aren’t I already doing that?” His cheeky reply has you whining again but he eases another finger into your pussy, scissoring the digits inside of you. “F-fuck, you know… what I mean. Please!”

“Is that what you like? Dirty talk?” He nuzzles into your neck, kissing the exposed skin before his lips travel up; kissing the shell of your ear. You hadn’t noticed at first but his body temperature is akin to yours now, the heat making you sweat a little as he fingers you under the sheets. “You know, sometimes when you sleep you make these cute little noises… They sound like pretty moans sometimes and it makes me wonder what you’re dreaming of when you’re wrapped up in my arms.” The wetness between your thighs is obscenely loud when Jihoon thrusts his fingers harder and faster into your pussy, your moans and whimpers mixing in.

“You smelled so good last time too. Maybe it’s just instinct but I really wanted to taste you. Maybe I could taste how sweet you really were if I had said something sooner? I’d get you to cum on my tongue over and over again and then lick up all that sweetness ‘til you’re begging me to stop.” His dirty words are whispered softly into your ear, small kisses in between as he tastes your warm skin.

For once, you really hoped this wasn’t a dream.

“Mmh, Jihoon, I’m--I’m gonna cum…!”

The snake hybrid doesn’t reply, instead rubbing your clit harder as he continues to thrust his fingers into you. And although you weren’t reciprocating anything, Jihoon felt good too, the warmth from your body making him feel comfortable and at ease.

When you finally cum around his fingers, you whimper his name, toes curling as your legs clamp around the hand between them. You can feel your breathing stop for a second as your orgasm crests and Jihoon can feel your walls throbbing around his fingers, a small groan against your ear as he slows his movements until your orgasm starts to ebb away. You don’t really know how much time has passed but the stickiness between your thighs starts to feel uncomfortable as you shift slightly; Jihoon’s fingers still inside of your pussy.

“Ji--Jihoon…”

“Hm? Oh, right.”

He eases his fingers out of you, a whimper escaping your lips at the sensitivity.

Jihoon brings his fingers up to his face over your shoulder, your wetness coated all over the digits as he brings them to his lips. You turn your head slightly, watching him through sleepy eyes as he laps at them, cleaning each finger meticulously as he moans. You almost hate the way you already crave his touch again just from the sight.

When he deems them clean enough, he smiles, satisfied. There’s a yawn on his lips afterward, his arm easing your shirt back down as he wraps an arm around your waist again. You lay there for a few minutes, feeling the urge to sleep pulling you in. But you try to get up to get cleaned off, finding yourself already locked into Jihoon’s hold as the male has seemingly already fallen asleep within the few minutes since.

You sigh, easing into his hold as you toss the idea of even trying to get cleaned up out the window. You lay there thinking about all the things you and Jihoon would need to talk about in the morning; thousands of different scenarios flitting through your mind of how it could go. You momentarily think of all the questions you want to ask Jihoon as well. But sleep eventually finds you, eyes drooping shut as you finally welcome it.