#today we r yearning.........

[mitcheechee]

theyre talking about godly things between friends, dont worry

[daemon-in-my-head]

Based on my latest post I'm overjoyed that my moots (whether or not tumblr officially recognises them thx sideblog doing sideblog sht) and those who randonly stumble upon my shit are objectively some of the greatest people.

I love this weird corner I found myself in and the general mindset and views on things.

And I may be too scared nd socially awkward to approach anyone directly but be assured I'm on the sidelines rooting for folks in a very cutesy, very demure manner and y'all should feel loved.

[kamaluhkhan]

LOVE, VIOLET

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 12.9k summary: history might say that you and vi were only best friends, but the real story is much more complicated. (or: you and vi celebrating valentine's day warning: friends to lovers arc, lots of sapphic yearning, brief mention of homophobia and bullying....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and sappy lesbian monologues and lots of smut [oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), thigh riding, strap usage(r! receiving), needy+possessive! vi and slightly (?) dom! reader] (18+) ! a/n: happy (belated oops) valentine's day girls and gays <33 been working on this for a while and hoped to get it out like....actually in time for love day but such is life. ANYWAYS this is set in the same universe as this x-mas themed fic (and kinda a modern au of this one?? reader has the same nickname and there's a friends to lovers arc so....). hope y'all enjoy!!!!

♪: "glue song" by beabadoobee ft. clairo (sun); "home by now" by MUNA (moon); "love is a kaleidoscope" by chappell roan (rising)

also - header image was cropped from a gifset from @arcanegifs , pls check out their beautiful work !!!

track 1: “feeling you” by cat burns

(now)

"fuck, vi," you moan as her tongue splits your folds. "we don't have time for this...."

you have to get to studio and vi has to get to work, but the combination of the hot water hitting your skin and vi’s mouth on your cunt was something you did not want to give up just yet — even if you didn't want to admit it.

"baby," vi pouts, looking up at you innocently, as if she wasn't the one who decided to push you against the tile wall and get on her knees in front of you. "it was your idea to shower together this morning.”

"well, sorry for wanting to save water," you breathe, your grip tightening on her hair when she wraps her lips around your clit. "the planet is dying."

vi pulls away from you once more, lips shining with your slick. "well, excuse me for thinking you wanted to start today with a bit of romance. if all you care about is the environment...." she gets up and reaches behind you to turn off the water. "we better get going, pretty girl."

you whine at the sudden loss of warmth and clench your thighs together at the nickname, something that does not go unnoticed by vi. she licks her lips before leaning forward to kiss you, your back pushed against the cool tile once more and the taste of yourself faint on her tongue.

hearing your alarm go off reminds you that there are other responsibilities you each have to attend to. reluctantly, the two of you dry off and make your way to your shared bedroom. you put on a fuschia boyshort / bralette combo (your favorite set because, yes, it matches your girlfriend’s hair) before slipping on some dark jeans and a heart-printed turtleneck, and moving on to your makeup. in the meantime, vi had been in the kitchen making coffee, and reemerges now with two mismatched mugs. she sets one on the desk next to you, kisses the top of your head before getting herself ready for the day. 

you swipe some eyeliner on your waterline, watching in the mirror as vi searches in the closet for something to wear, still only dressed in black briefs and a sports bra. you smile as you see the stars tattooed on her upper thigh, sparkling with every movement she makes. once she picks out an outfit, her eyes catch yours.

"what?" she asks with a lazy grin, slipping on a tight black henley.

you smile, adding some pink glitter to your eyelids. 

it’s only been two weeks since you’ve moved into this new place. there are still plenty of unpacked boxes, and you still get a bit lost navigating around the neighbourhood, but otherwise, it’s been a dream. 

you love seeing your clothes woven together in the same closet; you love waking up with her arm around your waist, doing laundry together, and coming home to vi having tried a new recipe for dinner. you love how you sometimes wear each other’s rings because you keep them all in a pile on the nightstand, how she falls asleep with her head in your lap during movie night, how her skin smells like the rose body wash you picked out together at lush. 

you love this — this home you’re starting to build. you’ve known vi for so long, but your lives are intertwined now more than ever.

"nothing," you respond, finishing with a layer of vanilla lip gloss. "want me to do your eyeliner?”

it’s a familiar position: vi sits on the edge of the bed while you straddle her hips. she leans forward and presses a kiss to your sternum before you hold her chin between your thumb and pointer finger.

“so….tomorrow’s valentines day,” vi suddenly points out, though, really, you didn’t need the reminder.

you’d spent these past few years apart and this is your first valentine’s day since the break-up. 

you both agreed — no pressure — but…..there’s definitely a bit of pressure. you’d been working on your gift for her for weeks, and you’re really hoping that she likes what you’ve planned.

“i thought it would be nice to get dinner tonight at bacchus. i called earlier this morning and got us a reservation for 7:30.”

you hum in appreciation.

vi might be taking a break from the band, but she’s still the violet lanes, the pink-haired rockstar of every lesbian’s dreams who’s written award-winning songs and sold out entire football stadiums. there are new perks of being her girlfriend this time around, like a nice apartment in new york and getting a day-of-reservation at the most expensive italian restaurant in the city. 

“valentine’s day is tomorrow,” you repeat, a playful lilt to your words. you swipe your thumb near the corner of vi’s eye where you’d smudged an otherwise sharp wing of eyeliner. “someone’s eager to get a head start.” 

with that, you snap the tube closed, press a kiss to the tattoo on vi’s cheek, and get up to gather your things for studio. you’re tucking your sketchbook into your messenger bag when you feel vi’s strong arms wrap around your middle.

“you always said i was impatient,” she teases. you can feel her smirk against the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear before pressing a gentle kiss to your skin and whispering: “can you blame me, stargirl? for wanting to get dressed all fancy and go somewhere nice and romantic with the prettiest girl in the world?” 

“of course not.” you crane your neck back until your lips practically brush against hers as you speak. “except, you’re the prettiest in the world, baby.”

a beautiful blush spreads across vi’s freckled cheeks, the way it always has whenever you comment on vi’s beauty.  

she clears her throat, still a bit flustered. “agree to disagree?”

you pretend to think about it for a second, nudging your nose against hers. “agree to disagree,” you reply, teasing her by continuing to hover above her lips, just a sliver of air between you. 

yeah, vi’s impatient — but, sometimes, you love it. like, right now, when she turns you around to face her so she can close the gap, deepening the kiss by sliding her tongue into your mouth without any preamble.

vi groans as another alarm goes off from your phone. "i will never get used to how many alarms you set."

you giggle, and pull away slightly to swipe the cancel button. vi takes the opportunity to move your shirt slightly and leave bites on your exposed collarbone. you check the time on your phone.

you can spare a little more time. it is valentine’s day, after all. 

(age 13)

“vi, your precious stargirl is on the phone for you!”

at the mention of your nickname, vi flinches, inadvertently failing to dodge a lethal attack. green goblin crashed his glider into her spiderman avatar, and the words GAME OVER fill the screen in an angry red font. 

vi groans, throwing her playstation controller on the couch before heading to the kitchen.

powder is sitting on the counter, twirling the telephone cord around her finger and yapping away before vi takes her place.

“hey.” vi clears her throat, tries to sound casual. “what’s up?”

“so, my mom promised to make something for ekko’s valentine’s class party, but she just got called in for a shift….which means i’m stuck baking 30 rainbow confetti cupcakes, and hoping i don’t give any eight year olds food poisoning. you doing anything right now?”

“oh - i’m actually, uh, busy! i have homework, and….”

and she’s busy avoiding you, ever since she heard something about you — from drea, of all people — and wondered why you wouldn’t confide in her, your supposed best friend. 

“please, vi,” you coax. vi’s heart beats a bit quicker as she pictures your bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “can you come over and help me bake? it feels like forever since we’ve actually hung out. i miss you.”

vi is certainly not god’s strongest soldier when it comes to you, so of course, she caves. rainbow confetti cake is her favorite, so that’s a bonus. she and powder throw on their coats and head next door to yours; powder and ekko keep each other company in the living room while vi joins you in the kitchen.

“hey,” she greets. 

“there you are!” your face lights up with the sweetest smile, causing the butterflies in her stomach to flap up a storm. 

gods — do you realize the effect you have on her? 

there’s already flour dusting your cheek; vi has to resist the urge to brush it away with her thumb, wanting to feel how soft your skin must be. 

she snaps out of it though, as you instruct her on what needs to be done, and the two of you work in a comfortable silence, the sounds of your siblings watching cartoons in the other room filling the space between you. at one point, probably realizing that vi isn’t in the mood for talking, you switch on the radio. vi catches you smiling at her as she hums along to freddie mercury, but you’re quick to blink away and get back to work.

you’re sifting confectioner’s sugar into room temperature butter for the icing while vi slides the first batch of cupcakes in the oven, starts prepping the second, her mind starting to wander.

you and vi are playing the leads for your final english project, where you have to reenact scenes from romeo and juliet. powder caught the two of you rehearsing last week, and spent the whole night singing that stupid playground chant. now vi can’t get it out of her head: you and her, sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G — 

“the rumor’s not true, by the way,” 

vi looks at you as she pours batter into another cupcake liner, which accidentally overflows onto the counter. 

“shit,” she groans, but you slide over to the other side of the kitchen counter to bring her a towel. 

you don’t elaborate on what you’ve just brought up as you wipe up the thick batter. vi figures you’re waiting for her to say something.

“what rumor?”

it was never vi’s instinct to play pretend with you, but frankly she had no idea what else to do without letting her emotions burst into flames and inevitably burn you.  

“vi,” you sigh. “i know you’ve heard it. the whole school has. it’s not true, though. i wasn’t kissing james.”

oh. the spark of envy in her gut simmers down. 

“did he ask you to the sweetheart dance?”

you shake your head, and the spark extinguishes completely. “even if he did….i wouldn’t want to go with him.”

“why’s that? not your type?”

you finish wiping the counter, and vi takes the now-sticky towel from you to rinse it out in the sink. as she does this, you get back to frosting duty, stirring in some pink food colouring. 

“drea saw me kissing someone with dark brown hair,” you explain. “so isabel started told her that it was james, and that’s what she’s been telling everyone. but really….it was her.”

vi blinks at you. “her?”

“yeah, her,” you smile hesitantly. 

“you were kissing isabel?”

isabel was the prettiest girl in eighth grade — though, according to vi, you’d have that ranking, and it would go way beyond the scope of your middle school. you’re the prettiest girl in the world; not that vi would ever have the courage to tell you that.  

you nod. “you’re not, like, weirded out that i like kissing girls, are you?”

“what? no, of course not! especially since….i, uh, i like kissing girls too.”

in theory. vi likes to imagine kissing girls, especially when they look like korra from the legend of korra, or shego from kim possible, or hayley kiyoko in lemonade mouth.

or….you.

vi watches intently as you — a very pretty, very real girl — swipe your finger through the fluffy pink frosting and taste it, flashing her a sugary smile. 

“good to know.”

(age 16)

when josie asked her out, vi had completely neglected the fact that dinner on friday would mean dinner on february 14th. 

which is how vi finds herself getting ready for a date with someone she met during your short-lived attempt at starting an all female fight boxing club. josie is sweet and vi felt bad cancelling on her, so like the gentleman she is, vi promised to pick her up at 7:30pm. on friday, february 14th. 

it’s 6:44pm, and vi is in your room. you helped her pick out an outfit — something nice but not too formal — and you’ve moved on to makeup, carefully applying her eyeliner. 

vi tries not to stare at your lips — which are slightly red from the cinnamon hearts you’ve been eating — so she keeps squirming, and you keep gently guiding her chin towards you. her eyes wander to your decorated walls, filled with posters and photos and other things you’ve collected throughout the years. she’s featured in quite a few, and she catches a glimpse of an old valentine card she’d given you in elementary school.

“it’s weird that we won’t be spending valentine’s day together,” you comment as though reading her mind. 

you’d never spend the holiday as anything other than friends, but it does still feel strange, not spending it with someone she knows for sure she loves. 

(again — like a friend loves a friend.)

“yeah, definitely,” vi agrees. “do you have anything planned for tonight?”

“huge plans, actually.” you pop another cinnamon heart in your mouth. “i’ve got a super romantic date with the prettiest girl in the world.”

vi tilts her head in confusion — did you mention this to her? — which causes you to shake your head with a lighthearted laugh and guide her towards you once more.

“really? with who?”

you roll your eyes. “i’m kidding!” 

“oh.”

“it’s cute how gullible you are,” you whistle. by now, you’re done with her eyes and move on to dusting her cheeks with some sort of shimmery powder. “i’m probably just gonna put on a rom-com and finish — well, start — writing my english essay on romantic literature. lowercase ‘r,’ because ms. chavez was feeling festive. i’m leaning more modernist, but that’s only because i want to write about virginia woolf.”

it’s inching towards when vi should leave, but vi doesn’t care what time it is — she’d listen to you talk forever if she could.

“what’s it about?”

you pull away to examine vi’s makeup one last time.

“the movie, or my essay?” you nod once in approval and give the compact you’re holding to vi so she can take a look. “you look beautiful, by the way.”

vi watches her reflection blush, almost enhanced by the makeup you put on her. 

“thanks, stargirl.” vi clears her throat and decides to get back to your original conversation. “the movie and your essay, i guess.”

you offer vi a cinnamon heart, which she accepts, the candy burning sweet on her tongue. you then reach into your backpack, for the ring pop that vi had left in your locker this morning, just before you handed her a box of rainbow confetti cupcakes. you slip the candied jewellery onto your right ring finger before answering.

“i want to analyse the letters between virginia woolf and this other writer — vita sackville-west. they’re essentially love letters, but, you know.” you give an exaggerated shrug. “history says they were only best friends. at least, according to ms. chavez’s interpretations, along with most of the class.”

vi chuckles. “thankfully, you’re here to prove them all wrong.”

“exactly.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, the feeling of your body familiar next to hers. “and, for the movie, i’m thinking when harry met sally, which i remember watching with you for the first time.” 

vi definitely remembers watching that with you, too. the whole question of whether or not men and women can be friends without romance getting in the way brought up another, much more relevant question in vi’s mind: can two sapphic women be friends without any complicated feelings?

it’s definitely possible.

“so….you excited for this date?”

vi shrugs. “yeah.”

“wow. i totally believe that,” you say, words dripping with sarcasm. 

“it’s just….it’s valentine’s day,” vi whispers. she starts fiddling with one of her rings — you’d gotten it for her last valentine’s day, a silver thumb ring with a star in the middle. “what if she wants to kiss me tonight?”

“well, you kiss her back, if that’s what you want.” 

“that’s what i want,” she responds, way too quickly to be true. “it’s just — i’m not sure i’ll be any good.”

“you’ll be fine,” you assure. 

“but — i mean, i’ve never…..”

“oh.” your eyes widen and your lips part in shock, the blue-raspberry of the ring pop turning them from red to purple that’s intoxicatingly close to violet. “oh.”

“what! it’s not, like the end of the world.”

“of course not! it’s just — you’ve gone out with a bunch of girls, so i just figured….”

vi shakes her head, her cheeks heating up. “guess i never found the right one. i know it’s cliche, but i kinda wanted my first kiss to be —” 

“special?” you guess, and vi nods.

“and now, there’s all this pressure, i’m worried that i won’t be good.”

you clear your throat. “right. well, if it helps relieve the pressure….i could show you….how.”

“show me?”

“well — i mean, like teach you, i guess. plus, then i can let you know whether you’re, like, a good kisser or not.”

that’s how you find yourself practically in vi’s lap, slotting your lips between hers. it started off with a quick peck, but clearly, you’ve both decided that this lesson requires a bit more. 

every single one of vi’s senses is heightened: the stickiness of your glossed lips, the sugar on your tongue, the giggles rumbling through you and bouncing down vi’s throat. time seems to slow down — no, freeze entirely — which is a stark contrast to the burning in her lungs.

needing air, vi pulls away. 

“h-how was that?” she breathes, her words warming your mouth. 

“good.” you smile, almost shy. you’re so close together that vi can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “maybe….a bit gentler this time.”

“gentler?”

“slower,” you suggest. 

so, you kiss again. gentler, this time.

“your lips are a bit chapped,” is your next note. you reach for the tube of lip gloss in your pocket. “can i?”

“go ahead, stargirl,” vi whispers. “you’re the expert.”

you paint a layer of sticky vanilla glitter onto vi’s lips.

“there,” you sit back after swiping your thumb underneath vi’s bottom lip. 

vi blinks at you. her lips feel like they’re coated in honey. “how do i look?”

“really pretty,” you reply, with a small smile. you sigh, glancing at the scooby-doo alarm clock on your nightstand, the one you’ve had since you were six years old. “you better go. have a good time with josie, okay?”

“okay.” vi gets up and grabs her jacket, tugs on her shoes. “and, thanks again for, well, you know.”

you shrug. “that’s what best friends are for. happy valentine’s, vi.”

vi hesitates just as she’s about to climb out your window. “look, stargirl, i don’t have to – i mean, i’m perfectly happy canceling my, uh, date, and just hanging out with you.”

“you’re sweet, vi, but i’ll be fine. go — have fun.” you walk closer to her so you can slip your tube of lipgloss into vi’s button down shirt pocket. you pat her chest affectionately. “and remember to be gentle, yeah?” 

later, when she’s making out with josie in the backseat of her dad’s car, vi tries not to think about your soft voice guiding her through the movements, or the dizzying taste of your lips — cinnamon hearts and sour candy and sweet, sweet vanilla.

history might say that you and vi are only best friends, but the real story is much more complicated.

___

[image: a cartoon scooby-doo, holding a bouquet of hearts. the message reads: BE MY VALENTINE!]

to: stargirl <3

from: vi

___

track 2: “you’re my best friend” by queen 

(age 7)

“mom?”

“yeah, kiddo?”

“can you be in love with your best friend?”

her mom, felicia, smiles knowingly, the question hanging in the air until the end of song. it’s part of an old mixtape that felicia plays sometimes, mostly glam rock like queen and david bowie. she put it on this afternoon while her and vi get ready for the valentine’s class party tomorrow. vi scribbles names on cards while her mom fills clear heart-printed bags with candy. powder’s fallen asleep on her lap. 

“definitely,” felicia finally answers, reaching over to tap vi’s nose playfully. “love, violet, can be a million different things. that’s the fun part.” 

felicia pinches vi’s cheek affectionately. vi frowns, thinking about this whole love thing. 

love is definitely not the next classmate whose name she’s writing — drea, who always cheats during sports and teases vi for being a tomboy. she’s tempted to just leave her out, but the policy of ms. julie’s second grade class is that everyone needs to get a valentine. so, that’s not love, either. 

instead, vi thinks of her family — her mom, vander, powder, and even ekko; movie nights and lively dinners and warm hugs. she thinks of her friends — mylo and claggor; laughter and skinned knees and running so fast it feels like flying. 

when she thinks of you, though, her heart beats differently.

vi thinks about how you always carry around a spiderman bandaid because she always scrapes herself during recess, and the nurse only carries plain, boring bandages. she thinks about how you ‘accidentally’ spill paint on drea’s art project after she calls vi mean names.

she thinks about how you doodle on her arms during math or braid her hair as you watch cartoons and eat sugary cereal on saturday mornings. 

she thinks about the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear, the perpetual marker stains on your hands, the dimple on your cheek.

you’re her best friend, and your smile alone wakes up a million butterflies in her stomach.

vi’s mom suggested spiderman valentine’s cards, but vi wanted to pick out something that you’d like; vi knows that scooby-doo is your favorite show, so that’s what she went with. she adds a ring pop to your bag of candy, because she knows they’re your favorite candy. she adds a little heart by your nickname, too.  

the next day, everyone is decorating their shoeboxes, transforming them into mailboxes before exchanging valentines. vi’s hands are sticky with glitter glue when you walk over — ms. julie said that you and vi distracted each other, so she assigned you to desks on opposite sides of the room. 

“happy valentine’s day, vi,” you say, sliding a card into her mailbox and smiling ear to ear before moving on to the next person. vi eagerly reaches in for the valentine. 

it’s spiderman-themed, and there’s a heart next to her name. 

(now) 

when you walk through the door, you’re engulfed in the scent of warm garlic bread and sweet, ripe tomatoes. the restaurant is bustling with waiters delivering colourful dishes, everyone wearing crisp suits and silk dresses. someone’s playing piano, soft music dancing throughout the room, and the overhead lights are dimmed, with each table illuminated by a candle in the centre.

the maître d' greets you with a welcoming smile and settles you into a table. once they’re gone, vi reaches across the table for your hand. 

“you look beautiful, stargirl.”

vi’s skin is always warm, but the cool metal of her thumb ring sends a shiver through you as she brushes over your knuckles. the flame between you flickers, darkening vi’s powder blue eyes as she gazes at you lovingly.

“you let me borrow your clothes,” you point out. “i’m wearing one of your suits.”

“what can i say….” vi winks, releasing your hand so she can open the menu in front of her. “i have good taste. looks better on you, anyways.”

“were you always this much of a flirt?” you tease.

vi smirks. “like a fine wine, i just get better with age.”

“you are so corny,” you say with a slight laugh.

“well, some people do think my love songs are cheesy.”

“even the ones written about me?”

vi looks up from her menu, one eyebrow raised. “baby, they’re all about you.”

your cheeks heat up at vi’s confession, and you take a sip from your glass, ice water trickling down your throat, in hopes of steadying your heartbeat.

a waiter comes by; you each order pasta dishes and vi orders a bottle of wine for the table. the wine arrives quickly, but given how busy the restaurant is, you anticipate the food will take longer. 

you fill the time easily, catching each other up on the details of your lives since this morning. you start by telling her how hectic your art studio has been as you prepare for your big spring exhibition, but how excited everyone is. you’re especially excited since you get to explore different mediums along the way; these past few weeks, you’ve been learning how to use a pottery wheel. you went through the final step of the process today — glazing — and you’re happy at the end product. 

“i don’t think i’m gonna include it in my exhibit, though,” you conclude. 

“well, it’d be nice to have some of your art on display all the time.” vi smiles. “you should bring whatever you made home.” 

“that’s the idea,” you muse, a twinkle in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “how was your day?”

vi started teaching guitar at the local community centre. some adults take lessons, but it’s mostly little kids with too much energy and too little patience. still, no matter how chaotic it can be, it’s clear that vi has been loving her job.

“i swear, this one girl, marceline, is a budding rockstar. i taught her a jimi hendrix song and she picked it up —” vi snaps her fingers, smiling proudly. “like that. such a talented kid.”

“you would know, pretty girl,” you praise.

your waiter arrives to bring plates full of pasta. you and vi thank them, your stomach grumbling at the delicious smell, a reminder that you had barely eaten all day. you’re so ready to dig into some quality fettuccine alfredo.

you and vi eat in a comfortable silence, until you hear an unfortunately familiar voice grate at your ears:

“oh my god, it is you! i saw you from the other side of the restaurant and just had to come over and say hi!”

you don’t need to glance to know who it is, but you do anyways, and so does vi. your stomach drops as you watch her bite back a scoff before turning back to her food.

“hi, drea,” vi clips before taking a big gulp of wine. she continues eating, barely sparing the woman another glance.

drea continues to hover. she’s wearing dark lipstick, her black hair cut into a classic bisexual bob, and her amber eyes silently pleading at you to break the ice. 

“hey, drea,” you greet with a stiff smile, and drea relaxes her shoulders at your veil of friendliness.

“nice earrings,” she winks, reaching over to tap the dangling purple gem. “thought you might have gotten rid of them after we broke up.”

vi chokes on a sip of wine. “broke up?” vi coughs, reaches for her water glass. “since when did you two date?”

you open your mouth to respond, but drea beats you to it, clearly too focused on being the centre of attention.

“maybe like a year or so ago.” drea turns to you. “right, starlight?”

vi’s jaw clenches, and she drops her fork, metal clattering against the plate.

“starlight?”

“yeah, because of the star-shaped birthmark behind her —”

“i know,” vi snaps. her eyes are locked on you, and slightly glazed over. “you never told me you dated drea.”

“i-it was only 3 months,” you stutter.

“that hurts,” drea groans, clutching her heart. she always did have a flair for the dramatic. “it was 4 months, babe.”

“you dated for 4 months, and i’m just hearing about it now?” vi seethes, trying to keep her voice low. the tables around you have already taken note that something is happening, though, their conversations hushing down to an idle whisper. “did you somehow forget how much of an asshole she was in high school?”

“um, i’m right here?” drea chides, still not taking the hint that neither of you are interested in a happy reunion.

“we need a minute,” you and vi say simultaneously. drea rolls her eyes and mutters something you don’t care to hear; you’re too concerned with explaining yourself to vi, whose cheeks are burning with a deep shade of red. whether it’s jealousy, anger, or embarrassment, you’re not quite sure.

“vi, just let me —” 

you reach out for her hand, but as soon as you make contact, vi pulls away abruptly.

“i…i need….to not be here right now,” vi mutters. the last thing she wants is to make headlines tomorrow morning — violet lanes, caught having argument with girlfriend at upscale restaurant during on valentine’s eve. flip to page 6 for the full story! — so, she gets up and slips on her jacket. 

“please, baby, let’s talk about this —”

“order dessert, if you want. don’t rush home.”

her voice cracks at that last word before she storms out the door, leaving you with two unfinished meals and stomach heavy with regret. 

___

[image: notebook opened to a page filled with chaotic, scribbled writing]

FOR STARGIRL (FINAL DRAFT!!! COME UP WITH TITLE LATER!??!!)

i’m stuck on you, baby

you taught me what love is

sugary sweet kisses,

frosting on your lips;

first tattoos,

promises on our skin

i’m stuck on you, baby

have been since we were kids

you’re not just the sun or the moon

you’re all my stars

know that i’ll love you

wherever we are

___

track 3: “true romantic” by indigo girls

(age 18)

the auditorium is decorated with red and pink streamers, heart garlands and bouquets of roses. a red spotlight shines on the stage, painting each performer with a pink hue. there are small tables and chairs arranged to make the space feel more like a parisian cafe, instead of where drama club rehearses for the spring musical.

you’re sitting at one of the tables, inhaling all the free coffee and pastries you possibly can and chatting with viktor and jayce, like you’ve done for the past three years at your highschool’s annual valentine’s day coffeehouse. 

the first time vi performed, during your freshman year, she was all nerves, her fingers fumbling at chords and voice trembling through the lyrics of a joan jett song she had played for you perfectly that morning. when her eyes landed on yours in the crowd, you gave her a thumbs-up — you’d been just friends at the time, after all — and vi seemed to warm up, finishing to enthusiastic applause. 

now, vi walks on with confidence right away, electric guitar the same pink as her hair, with a constellation of stars scribbled on its body with black sharpie. she’s grown out her hair, still keeping it shorter on one side to display her growing collection of piercings. the newest addition is a silver loop in her nostril, which glints underneath the spotlight as she leans closer to the mic. she’s wearing lowrise jeans and showcasing a sliver of her hips; you can’t help but think about what’s hidden just a bit lower, the stars sparkling along her upper thigh, etched into her skin at the same time you got violets blooming between your ribs. 

“hey everyone. most of you know me as the captain of our hockey team —”

beside you, jayce whistles and there’s a scattering of applause for the team, who just made it to nationals. vi landed an athletic scholarship, too, to play at university of piltover. even though you have a hard time picturing your girlfriend as an enforcer, you’re so proud of her. plus, it’s only a twenty minute drive from zaun university, where you’ve decided to go so you could be close to your family.

“but, i’ve been writing songs, too,” vi continues. “i realized that i’ve gotten up here every year to sing someone else’s love song to a girl i’ve had a crush on since before i even knew what a crush was. but this is a song i’ve been writing, for and about her, for years. and now that we’re actually dating….well, i wanted to do something special for our first valentine’s day. ” vi looks at you with a toothy grin, and you blow her a kiss. “wait, actually, can we get a spotlight on my girlfriend? right there?”

vi gestures in your general direction, and suddenly you feel the heat of the spotlight and 50 pairs of eyes on you. your cheeks flush at the attention, but you play along and wave nonetheless.

“there she is,” vi gushes. “my beautiful stargirl. i wrote this song —”

“oh my god, we came here for music, not your sappy lesbian monologue!” drea, current goalie of  zaun high’s hockey team and perpetual pain in vi’s ass, groans. “hurry up and play the song already!”

one of the teachers hushes the bubbling laughter, and it dies down just as quickly as it emerged.

vi rolls her eyes. “as i was saying, i wrote this song-slash-sappy-lesbian-monologue for you, stargirl. i hope you like it. happy valentine’s day.”

you don’t know what makes your heart soar more — the sweet lyrics falling from the lips of the girl you love, or the girl herself. 

later, vi is falling asleep in the middle of chemistry class when she hears a light clink against the window. she glances outside and sees you waving at her, smile as bright as a shooting star. you have paint stains on your jeans that weren’t there earlier and you’re gesturing at her to follow you. vi just shrugs and nods her chin towards the front of the class. 

your bottom lip juts out into a pout, and you curve your hands into a heart before disconnecting them. vi snorts at your antics. 

“ms. lanes, are my slides on organic compounds amusing to you?” 

“uh, no mr. michaels. of course not.” vi clears her throat, whips her head back towards the smartboard. “may i, uh, go to the bathroom?”

vi checks her phone as soon as she closes the door behind her. 

stargirl

hurry UP!!!

dyke spiderman <3

easy romeo

i’m omw

where should i meet u???

stargirl

our spot

“wait!” you call as soon as vi reaches the bottom of the staircase and starts to turn the corner. “close your eyes!”

“how’d you know it was me?” vi laughs, but does as she’s told nonetheless.

“the axe body spray is a pretty dead giveaway,” you deadpan. 

“hey, i stopped using that in middle school. can i look now?”

you ask her to wait one more time. vi feels you shift behind her, wrap your arms around her waist. on instinct, vi reaches a hand down and laces her fingers through yours, your skin slick and cold. 

“okay,” you whisper, your breath hot against her ear. “open your eyes.”

and when she does, vi is glad that you’re holding her, because she’s suddenly weak in the knees at what’s gracing the wall before her: a small mural reminiscent of klimt’s famous painting, ‘the kiss’. except — it’s the two of you, surrounded by stars and violets.

“happy valentine’s day, vi.” 

you untangle yourself from her, but vi doesn’t let go of your hand, even when she realizes it’s wet with fresh paint. 

“you….you did this?”

“yeah.”

“wow….it’s amazing. beautiful.”

vi squeezes your hand, still in awe at how you beautifully swirled together each color, the loving expressions you managed to portray with each delicate stroke of your paintbrush. 

“i’m glad you like it.”

“like it? i love….” she turns to you. “i love it. you didn’t have to do all this though, it must have taken you forever.”

“you’re worth it,” you muse. “like you said — it’s our first valentine’s day. as a couple at least. i wanted to do something special. i made us a playlist, too.”  

so, even though it means she’s skipping chem and you’re skipping history, the two of you curl underneath the staircase, a pair of earbuds split between you. 

“i’m gonna miss seeing you every day after we graduate.”

vi hums in agreement. she gently lifts your head from her shoulder, holding your chin between her thumb and pointer finger. “you know i’ll love you wherever we are, right?”

“i know, i heard you early on stage,” you swoon, settling back against her shoulder. “seemed a bit dramatic for only being, like, 20 minutes away from each other. though, i guess that is the farthest apart we’ve ever been.”

vi takes a deep breath, as your fingers dance along the doodles decorating her skin, the ones you had drawn on in sharpie during calculus. “except…. it might be further than that, depending on how things go.”

your pointer finger pauses halfway through an outline of a heart. “what do you mean?”

“i’m, uh….i don’t want to go to university of piltover. actually, i don’t want to go to college at all. i turned down the scholarship; made the official decision two weeks ago after the big game.”

“you did what?”

“i wanna move to l.a. or london, pursue this whole music thing. i think it could really take me places.” 

“right,” you clip.“and why are you just bringing this up now? have you told vander? have you talked to anyone before making a huge, life-changing decision?”

you continue shaking your head in disbelief as you gather your backpack and turn the corner, emerging from underneath the staircase; vi follows you. 

“no, but it’s my life — and i know what i want.”

“and it’s always about what you want, right?” you scoff.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“it’s just — did you ever think about your family in all this? how powder might feel having her sister so far away just as she’s starting high school?”

“i’ve spent the past 13 years of my life worrying about powder, taking care of her especially after our mom died,” vi reasons, trying to keep her voice steady. “i need a break. my dreams are bigger than this town.”

“do you…” you trail off, hesitant to even speak the words aloud, but the coil in your gut tells you it’s unavoidable. “do you need a break from us?” 

“stargirl.” vi whispers your nickname like a promise itching to be broken. “i thought you’d love having a rockstar girlfriend,” she teases, trying to lighten the mood.

“don’t,” you grumble, brows furrowed. “if you wanted to make things work between us, you would have at least talked to me about this.”

“i am talking to you,” vi counters. she grabs her hands in yours. you pull away.

“but, you spent these past two weeks listening to me imagine our future together, while you had already made other plans. what does that say about our actual future?”

before vi can respond, someone clears their throat from the top of the staircase. your principal, looking down on you with an expression that can only be described as disinterested, addressing you by your last names. 

“pro tip,” she continues. “if you want to skip class and have a lover’s quarrel, make sure it’s not somewhere that carries sound directly to the office.”

you and vi get assigned detention that afternoon. you’re told to sit on opposite sides of the room, but that doesn’t stop vi from throwing a crumpled ball of paper your way. 

glancing over at your girlfriend, you have to admit that you find yourself melting at those puppy dog eyes of hers, pleading and so full of love as she waits for you to respond to her message.

even though the future feels uncertain, you scribble something back, then toss the paper towards her desk discreetly. it lands on the floor. vi unfolds it and smiles as she reads the note, cheeks tinted a light rose.

___

[image: a crumpled ball of paper. unfold it, and it reads….]

(in hot pink gel pen)

I WANT TO MAKE THINGS WORK BETWEEN US

I LOVE YOU

(in black sharpie)

I LOVE YOU TOO

OF COURSE WE’LL MAKE IT WORK

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A ROCK STAR GF, BTW

BUT ONLY IF SHE’S AS HOT AS YOU

___

track 4: “home by now” by MUNA 

(age 21)

“wait, hold on — what does that sign say?”

violet lanes, will you be my valentine?

“i’m flattered,” vi chuckles. “but, sorry ladies — i’m a happily taken woman. i’ve got a pretty girl waiting for me in the crowd.” 

“and, lemme just say, it’s a good thing we’ve all got separate hotel rooms this time,” caitlyn groans. 

vi rolls her eyes. “anyways. this is a very special night because it’s the first time my girlfriend is watching us perform live! she’s over there, looking as beautiful as ever. everyone, say hi!”

the spotlight shines on you, and you giggle shyly. the necklace she’d given you this morning practically glows between your collarbones, illuminates your skin with a violet hue. 

“isn’t she the cutest?” vi gushes. “the first time i performed this next song was to celebrate our first valentine’s day as a couple. and — fun little easter egg — when we released this as a single, the cover was a painting she had made for me on that same day. she’s just so talented, kicking ass at this fancy art program….she’s basically the frida kahlo to my joan jett…..and i’m just rambling, now, sorry guys. i could probably talk about my girl all day.” 

“oh, and she does,” maddie grumbles. 

“the fans love sappy-lesbian-monologues, don’t they?” the crowd roars, and vi flashes maddie a winning smirk. “so, yeah, i love my girlfriend every day, of course, but today it’s with roses and ring pops and those cheesy cards kids hand out to each other in elementary school. happy valentine’s day, stargirl. this one’s called — stuck on you.” 

when the show’s over, and the band’s played not one, but two encores, you’re flinging your arms around vi’s neck before she even has the chance to put down her guitar. she’s all sweaty, white tank top sticking to her torso. her ears are still ringing and her throat a bit sore, but all vi cares about is the feelings of your soft lips kissing across her cheeks. 

“you’re so fucking amazing,” you gush, pecking her lips delicately. “i mean, i’ve seen you play before, but never like this! vi, you’re….wow. electric, fucking radiant. you must be exhausted, though, ahh —”

vi kisses you, sweaty and breathless, until she’s practically sucked all the air from your lungs.

“not at all,” she replies with a cocky grin. “we’ve got all night and i’m not planning on getting any sleep.”

“ugh, gross. get a room,” caitlyn scoffs, playful but with a bit of an edge. 

“oh, we will,” you reply coolly. maybe you’re a bit jealous with how seamlessly caitlyn fits into vi’s new life, how much she’s able to see your girlfriend much more than you’re able to. she hasn’t been particularly friendly since you’ve gotten here, and she’s been a bit too touchy with vi in the tabloids lately. “i’m guessing you don’t have any valentine’s plans?”

caitlyn narrows her eyes at you.

vi laughs, probably about to make a lighthearted comment to diffuse the tension between you and caitlyn, but she’s called aside by their manager for a quick chat before she gets the chance. 

“i’ll be right back. cait, stargirl — play nice,” she advises, like you’re children fighting on the playground. 

once she’s gone, caitlyn’s frown turns into a smirk. 

“stargirl, huh? guess that explains her thigh tattoo. i didn’t think vi was that sentimental, though, so it must have been at your request.” 

you straighten your back, trying to mirror caitlyn’s combative confidence. “i think i know her better than you.”

“maybe before, when you were kids growing up in that nothing town. things change, darling. people change — who they are and what they want. if i were you, i’d accept that sooner rather than later,” caitlyn snarks as she finally walks away, bumping your shoulder just as vi returns to the pair of you.  

you don’t quite have the time to register the interaction, not with vi intertwining her fingers with yours and tugging you towards her body. 

“let’s get out of here, yeah?” she brushes some hair behind your ear. “we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

and, there was so much time to make up for — the days that have turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years since you’d last seen each other in person, sometimes only speaking to each other once every month, for only two minutes at a time. 

you’d gotten so used to being apart that being together feels like a dream.

vi’s warm body presses against yours, barely making it to the bed. you just couldn’t resist pushing her against the door of the hotel room as soon as you were inside, lodging your thigh between her legs. 

“i, uh, i have a surprise for you,” vi breathes, groaning as you hum and start to suck bruises down her neck. 

“yeah? what is it, pretty girl?”

blushing and slightly flustered at the nickname, vi removes her shirt and sits back on the bed, gesturing at you to follow her. you hover on top of her and take in her naked form. 

“you…got your nipples pierced.”

vi grins. 

“can i touch them?” 

she nods enthusiastically. you brush your thumb over one and she shivers, causing you to pull away.

“no, it’s okay,” she assures, guiding your hand back towards her. “feels good.”

you start kissing her again. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” until you reach her chest. “can i?”

vi blinks up at you, eyes glazed over with honeyed want. “please. f-fuck,” vi moans when you latch your mouth to her nipple, rolling the cold, silver piercing along your tongue.

“you’re so sensitive,” you coo. you release her nipple with a pop, a string of saliva still connecting it to your wet lips. your fingers slip underneath vi’s underwear, gliding through her soft curls and down into her sticky heat. “so wet. you really missed me, yeah?”

“course i did, stargirl,” vi lets out a shaky laugh. “i want to show you just how much.”

you pout, and vi has the urge to capture that beautiful bottom lip of yours between her teeth. “but i wanted to show you how much i missed you.”

“well, like i said — we have all night.”

three orgasms later, and you’re nearing the point of exhaustion, but you’re determined to keep going, if anything because of how full you feel with vi’s fingers fucking into you at a truly impressive pace. the pads of her fingers are rougher than before, calluses from playing guitar so often, but she still knows exactly how to curl and curve them in every way that makes you unravel. her lips are shining with your cum, and you still taste her sweetness on your tongue. 

she grinds her bare cunt against the soft skin of your thigh as she brings you closer and closer to your peak while desperately chasing hers. 

“you close, pretty girl? gonna cum for me again?”

vi whines, nods eagerly. “i’m so fucking close. fuck — i don’t know what i’d do without you.” 

you groan when vi starts sucking at your pulsepoint, running her tongue over the chain of your new necklace. you reach a hand up to tug at her hair, gently coaxing her to look at you.

“don’t worry about that,” you promise. vi takes a deep breath as though inhaling your words and buries her face in the crook of your neck, butterfly lashes fluttering closed and tickling the skin behind your ear. “you’re being so good for me, so messy.”

“s-sorry,” vi sniffles, blood rushing to her cheeks. her body stills while she moves to meet your gaze, her puppy dog eyes shining with desire and desperation. 

you shake your head and dig your fingers into the plush of her hips, urging her to keep going.

“i love it,” you clarify, prompting vi’s face to brighten, her smile pure sunlight and sugar. 

you run your thumb over the scar on her lip that stretches with such familiarity, before crashing your lips against hers. vi welcomes your slick tongue into her mouth, swirling around every crevice until your tastes combine into one. the knot in your abdomen tightens and you, somewhat reluctantly, pull away to admire your girlfriend.

“i love how gorgeous you look on top of me, fucking me while using my body to get yourself off,” you continue, words flowing from your mouth like thick, sickly-sweet nectar. “i want you to cum with me one more time, yeah?”

vi whimpers into the crook of your neck, the vibrations intensifying the waves of pleasure crashing throughout your body. it doesn’t take long for vi to feel you clench around her fingers, and for you to feel her gush against your skin, staining the bedspread beneath your entangled bodies.

vi pulls away her fingers — you whimper this time at the sudden emptiness — but she places the softest kiss on your lips as an apology before adjusting to lay down on her side. she nestles into the curve between your neck and shoulder. her teeth graze your pulsepoint as you run your hand through her damp hair.

you should probably take a shower — the two of you drenched in each other’s sweat and saliva and cum — but all you want to do is to melt against her. maybe if you stay in bed, then time will slow down. 

“i wish you could stay longer.” 

“me too,” you whisper, idly tracing your fingers down her body. 

“you know, the art scene in this city is amazing,” she mumbles. “lot of galleries where you could show your work. nice, big apartments where you could have your own private studio space. you could move here after graduation.”

you laugh. “maybe in another life, where i could afford a place in new york. plus, at this point, i think it’d be best for me to move home after i graduate. but, hypothetically speaking — yeah, that would be cool.”

“well, hypothetically speaking, you would share rent with the pink-haired butch of your dreams.”

“you mean the one whose cum is drying on my thigh right now?”

“the very same,” vi nods with a cheeky grin. she throw her arm around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

you nudge your nose against hers. “paint me a picture — what does this dream life with my dream girl look like?”

“well, we get a place in an artsy neighbourhood, obviously, surrounded by a strong, welcoming community of queer artists, who are all quirky and colorful in their own way.”

“we’d actually be friends with our neighbours — host dinner parties and have movie nights and dance all night at gay bars. our apartment would have an open-floor plan, and we’d have big windows that give us a ton of light and a great view.”

“a beautiful kitchen, too. one that’s a little outdated, but we prefer the term charming,” vi adds. “and there are always fresh flowers on the counter, in a gorgeous vase.”

“we thrifted most of our stuff, so the furniture is all mismatched furniture and in every color of the rainbow —”

“but it works.”

“it works,” you echo, heart glowing. “we adopt a dog, too.” 

“and, the dog’s name?”

you think for a second. “scooby.”

“of course,” vi agrees, her smile suddenly sad. “sounds like a nice life we’d have together.”

“yeah. it does.”

you swallow down those dreams with a bitter dose of reality. you’ll be on a plane tomorrow, heading back to your childhood home, while vi continues travelling the world, performing to sold-out stadiums. 

i don’t know what i’d do without you.

the sad truth is that vi does know what to do without you, and you know what to do without her. that’s what this relationship has become: together, in theory, but growing into your adult selves and towards lives that don’t necessarily include the other. 

the vi beside you, hair a mess and eyeliner smudged, looks the same, give or take a few new tattoos and piercing. but, you wonder about all the little ways she’s changed that you might not ever have the chance to appreciate, about all the details of her day that you’ll never get to hear about. 

you wonder if, possibly, caitlyn is right. you know that people change — who they are, what they want. you want to believe that you and vi are the exception, that no matter how much you changed, you’d always be together. always. 

you then remember something else that caitlyn had said, and abruptly stop tracing designs onto vi’s skin, your eyes lingering on the stars on her upper thigh. vi must notice how you stiffen, because she cups your cheek, prompting you to meet her gaze.

“hey — are you okay?”

“i just — don’t take this the wrong way —  but….has anything ever happened between you and cait?”

vi freezes. “why….why would you ask that?”

“o-oh, it’s just….she mentioned something about your star tattoo and, i, uh, i don’t know. seems like the type of thing she’d only know if the two of you had —”

vi shuffles away from you beneath the sheets and sits up. “you think i’d cheat on you?”

“you aren’t answering the question,” you notice, watching carefully as a nervous blush blooms across her freckled cheeks. “did anything happen between you and caitlyn?”

“why does it matter? why are you asking?”

“i’m starting to think i have a good reason to.” you get out of bed in a huff and slip on her oversized graphic tee, starting to pace back and forth.

“i — look, i was going to tell you, at some point — we, uh….well, nothing actually happened.”

“well? what didn’t actually happen?”

“baby, just let me explain —” vi catches your arm to stop you. “we were both drunk and high and sharing a cigarette by the pool and….she….we….almost kissed.”

you scoff. “so that’s what this weekend was all about — you felt guilty, so you put on this heart-eyed romantic act to make yourself feel better. everything — this last minute trip, the shoutout at your concert, the fucking necklace you got me — was all because you felt guilty.”

“maybe that’s part of it,” vi admits. “but, mostly, i wanted to see you. i miss you.”

you don’t confess to missing her, too. instead, you say:

“maybe we don’t know each other as well as we used to. maybe….things are changing a bit too much.”

“what does that even — where is this going?” vi drops your arm like its a hot coal, red-hot and blistering. “do you wanna break up?”

the tension hangs in the air, a cloud of smoke and darkness between you and the girl you’ve always loved.

“do you?”

you get on a plane the next morning, bone-tired and heart-heavy with deja vu. 

you kiss each other goodbye, promise that you’ll make things work.

you don’t. can’t. 

a few months later, you’ll break up. 

___

[image: postcard reading GREETINGS FROM PARIS! messy handwriting and misspelled words on the other side]

stargirl,

i promised powder id send her a postcard from paris but im really really drunk rn and urs is the only address i can rememer 

they say this is the city of love and it’s the most romantic day of the yer but it means nothing without u. i miss u.

that mesage was 4 u not powder. just tell her i say hi.

xxx

vi

p.s. i know were not together anymore, but i still love u.

___

track 5: “i’ve loved you for so long” by the aces

(now)

“vi?” 

all the lights in the apartment are off, the only sign that vi is home being her discarded doc martens strewn by the door. there’s a chill in the air, too — the window to the fire escape is open, so you head outside.

the string lights twisted around the railing flicker like fallen stars, and the city sparkles in the late winter night. vi perches over the edge, her silk shirt unbuttoned at the top, her dark lipstick faded, and a cigarette smouldering between her ringed fingers. 

“i stopped at magnolia’s on my way home – got us a slice of confetti cake for dessert,” you try, keeping your voice light in hopes of avoiding a fight. you hoped that the sweet treat would be a welcomed peace offering; that maybe you could sit down in your shared kitchen and actually talk through the conflict like the well-adjusted adults you’re trying to be. 

instead, time collapses into itself; you’re both teenagers again, keeping secrets from each other in hopes to ease future pain, and you have a feeling you’re about to bicker like an old married couple, fall back into familiar patterns.

“sure you wouldn’t want to share it with drea, instead starlight?”

you don’t take the bait; you know vi wants to push your buttons, and you know that she knows exactly how. 

“didn’t realize you still smoked,” you say, moving to lean against the railing next to her. 

“whenever i get stressed.” she takes a drag to prove her point, exhaling smoke into the ink-black sky. “guess we don’t know each other as well as we used to.” 

“vi, please,” you sigh. “can we actually talk about this without you lashing out like a wounded dog?”

and, it’s true — vi’s instinct when she’s upset has always been rushing to sink her teeth into something to protect herself from more harm, or gnawing on old wounds until fresh blood emerges.

“what’s there to talk about?” she snarls, tapping her cigarette, ash falling down into the abyss below you. “how you lied about dating drea?”

“i didn’t lie,” you huff. the winter night shivers down to your bones, but you cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself steady. “i just didn’t tell you that i’d gone out with her, specifically. we each admitted to seeing other people after our break-up. you never gave me a list of every fangirl you took to bed.”

“i told you about caitlyn —”

“the tabloids told me about caitlyn,” you counter. 

“you knew how much i hated drea!” vi barks, finally whipping her head to look at you. “do you not remember how much of a homophobic asshole she was? how she told the entire hockey team that i cornered her in the showers one day and tried to kiss her?”

you bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard enough to taste copper.

“vi, if you just let me explain — she meant nothing to me.”

vi laughs, cold and bitter as the winter air. “i mean, jesus christ, you still have and wear the earrings she got you. meanwhile, you never wear that necklace i’d gotten you. as soon as we broke up, you were perfectly happy getting rid of me.”

“please, vi —” 

vi’s eyes shine under the starlight, and she clenches her jaw so tight that you’re worried the bone might shatter. “did you not care about me at all, even after all that time, everything we’d been through?”

you uncross your arms and reach out to her, but she flinches away. 

“violet —”

“no — you stopped caring about me to the point that you dated someone who made my life a living hell.” vi takes a shaky breath, and she chokes out your name. “we were best friends first, and i thought….god, i thought that meant we’d always love each other.”

the words hang heavy in the air, your heart pierced by her icicle-sharp words. in a haste, you wipe away the cold tears burning on your skin, turn around on your heels, and storm back inside. 

vi finds you a few minutes later in the living room. you’re using the swiss army knife you usually keep clipped to your belt to tear through unpacked boxes. though she’s not sure what you’re looking for, vi turns on the lamp to help your search. 

“what are you —”

you finally pull something out and offer it to her without a single word. 

vi’s fingers are still slightly frozen as she holds it, her eyes following the precise swirls and crisp lines, designs similar to the tattoos on her back. you must have drawn them on the worn cardboard.

“what is this?”

“open it,” is all you say before sitting cross-legged on the velvety purple couch, which the two of you had lugged up three flights of stairs from the street corner just the other day. you pick at one of the tears in the fabric as you wait.

vi stays standing while she carefully cracks open the lid, well aware that it could disintegrate in her hands like sand through an hourglass. 

what looks like a forgotten, ready-to-be-recycled shoebox turns out to contain much more than old sneakers: 

valentine’s cards she’d given you in elementary school; notes you passed to each other during class or detention; her first songwriting notebook she must have left at your place; a jolly rancher lollipop wrapper from the halloween party where you first…you know. little trinkets vi had given you throughout the years. receipts, movie tickets, photobooth strips of your younger selves. so carefree and full of love.

her anger, her hurt, melts away into sappy affection; knees turning to jello, she slides onto the couch next to you. 

you watch through the corner of your eye as vi rustles through contents of the shoebox-turned-time capsule, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. 

“you….you kept all of this?” 

“i put this box together on the first valentine’s day after our break-up. i was going to set it on fire,” you timidly admit, rubbing the back of your neck. 

vi snorts. “seriously?”

“some sort of stupid ritual i read about in autostraddle, to get rid of your ex. but when it got to that point…all of this — all these memories — i couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them. i didn’t want to get rid of you.”

you reach into the box and pull out a faded, drunkenly-written postcard, chipped-polish nail fiddling with the french stamp in the corner. 

“what about the necklace?” vi can’t help but ask. she runs her fingers through the delicate, dried violets from your corsage, which your mom had helped vi pick out a week before prom. 

“ekko wanted new sneakers for his birthday, so i did the nobel big sister thing, and sold my most expensive piece of jewellery to pay for them,” you explain. you and vi had instinctively shuffled in closer together, the shoebox balanced on one leg from each of you, your knees touching. “plus — yeah, i was mad at you. god, i hated you — which probably was the reason i started going out with drea in the first place, and i’m really, really sorry that i did. but, i need you to know — i never stopped caring about you. i never stopped loving you, violet, and i don’t think i ever will. ”

silence stretches between you. vi stares at you in the warm living room light — how your eyes are darker, your lips parted, shoulders curling in to protect your bleeding heart. vi gently takes the postcard from you and places the shoebox on the floor. 

“i never stopped loving you, either,” she promises, placing her now thawed hands on your cheeks. “and i don’t think i ever will.” 

you smile softly as vi leans in closer, her eyes flickering between yours and your lips. you nod; vi presses her lips to yours, a tender vow that grows into something hungrier, something with teeth. 

“gentler,” you tell her as you pull away slightly. you want to take your time, inhale the dizzying nicotine in her lungs, savor the acidic red wine on her tongue. 

“gentler?” vi’s already eager, though, her hand inching up your thigh.

“slower, violet.”

vi shudders as you trail your fingers over the tattoo on her neck. “have i ever told you how much i love it when you say my name?” 

“drea definitely wasn’t a fan of that habit,” you confess with a guilty grin. “one of the reasons we broke up is because, well...i kept accidentally saying your name during sex.”

“really?” vi chuckles darkly, a lightning bolt of possessiveness striking through her. “fucked you so good that i ruin you for other girls, hm?”

you roll your eyes, then suck in a breath when vi dips her fingers beneath your underwear, finding you wet and waiting.

“oh, sweetheart, you’re soaking. all this, just for me?”

“hm, i don’t know. drea did look pretty good in that dress,” you tease — because you know how to push vi’s buttons, too. “i have to admit, she was a pretty decent fuck.”

“don’t,” she warns, but her eyes are burning with desire.

you smirk, slipping your hand underneath her shirt. her skin is always warm, but, right now, it’s electric. her abs are sculpted by the gods, pave way to a thick haven of curls between her legs.

“maybe you need to remind me why your name always fell from my lips whenever she’d make me cum.”

vi’s cheeks are red-hot, her heart pounding against your chest as she pushes you onto the couch, and presses her body into yours. 

“it would be my genuine pleasure.”

everything else to ash, and you’re left with this: your lace underwear dangling off your ankle as vi pushes your legs over her shoulders. her slick, skilled tongue sliding through your folds and her rough fingers squelching into your hole at an expert pace.

“f-fuck, vi,” you moan, running your fingers through her messy hair. you don’t miss how eagerly she grinds down onto the butter-soft velvet once you start tugging at the strands more firmly. 

“feels good, yeah?” she moans like you’re the one fucking her. “i’m the one making you feel good?”

“yes.” you exhale sharply when she sucks on your clit. “i’m close, vi.”

“i know, baby,” she drawls, smirking against your skin.

“don’t stop.” you plead as she sucks a bruise into your thigh, fingers curling into you. “don’t stop, don’t stop —”

and, she fucking stops. 

“vi,” you whine. 

“uh-uh, you don’t get to cum quite yet, pretty girl.”

she sucks her honey-soaked fingers into her mouth as she gets up from the couch.

you pout, licking your lips even though you wish you could lick hers. “why not?”

“i’m still mad at you,” vi states. “you really did hurt my feelings. how do you plan on making it up to me?”

vi tries to resist, play the part of the jealous, possessive girlfriend — but, god, it’s hard, with how fucked out, how beautiful you look right now: your lips the color of ripe plums, swollen and stained with vi’s lipstick; the curls between your legs twinkling with droplets of your desire; and your eyes glazed over with lust as you gaze up at her from the couch.

“that new strap we got,” you suggest, still breathless. your breasts strain against the now-wrinkled silk of the shirt you’re wearing. vi’s thankful that it’s hers, because she wants nothing more than to rip the fabric off your body. “you — you can fuck me with it.”

“is that what you want?” vi hums, fire burning in her abdomen as she watches you nod eagerly. usually, you’re the one who takes control, and that’s perfectly fine with vi, but tonight….

tonight, she has something to prove.

you’re both naked by the time you reach the bedroom, clothes thrown across the apartment floor as you take turns leaving bites and bruises on exposed areas of the other’s skin. you get down on your knees, the shag carpet shocking your skin as vi looms over you, gnawing at her scarred, kiss-swollen lips. you help her adjust the harness and attach everything accordingly, leaving a kiss on each star glittering across her thigh once you’re done. she makes you wait patiently as she coats the dildo with a healthy amount of lube.

vi offers you her hand, sticky with lube and your essence from earlier, and lifts you to your feet. she kisses you sweetly before pushing you onto the bed. 

"turn around," vi instructs. "on your knees."

you comply, already feeling yourself dripping onto the comforter in anticipation. vi kneels behind you on the bed, grasping the plush of your hips between her strong hands. you gasp when she spits onto your hole and starts to fuck into you, inch by inch. 

"you okay, baby?" vi asks once she’s halfway inside you.

"yes," you breathe. "keep going.”

so, vi continues gliding further into your silken heat, and once she’s nestled inside you completely, her thighs meeting your ass — that’s when she turns on the vibrations. vi moans, so loud that you’re sure the entire building can hear. she starts grinding into you, but otherwise doesn’t move.

“violet.” you snap your neck back as far as you can, appreciating how perfectly dishevelled vi looks behind you, eyes rolled up to heaven, drool trickling from the corner of her plump lips. “are you gonna keep fucking me any time soon?”

“it’s just so much,” she whines, and continues rutting against you.

it is so much — the waves of pleasure quivering from her body to yours, the subtle burn of her happy trail rubbing against your skin, the melodic timbre of her voice — but it’s not enough. 

“i know, baby. but i need more. if you don’t do something now….maybe there’s someone else i can call…”

your words effectively reignite that spark of jealousy, and she growls. vi slips out slightly, only to thrust back in, over and over, until you’re a moaning mess beneath her. your body starts to shake, but before you almost collapse onto your elbows, so vi reaches one hand to your neck and lifts you up so that her pierced nipples brushed against your back.

she kisses the back of your neck, trailing her hand down to pinch one of your nipples and you hiss, dizzy with pain and pleasure. she moves her other hand below the harness, rubbing her swollen clit in tight circles and gathering as much slick as she can. she brings those same fingers, glistening in the moonlight, to your lips, and you let her shove them into your mouth so you can finally taste her.

"this enough for you, greedy girl?" she taunts. 

you are greedy, when it comes to her, suckling on her digits like a lollipop while she stretches you open so deliciously, the obscene squelching of your pussy accompanying a symphony of moans and curses. 

"yes, violet. f-fuck, yes!" 

you feel vi groan against the crook of your neck, where her teeth had been nibbling at the sweat-soaked skin. 

“fuck — i need to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

with that, vi flips you over, so she can watch you unravel. she hisses when your nails find purchase on her shoulders, digging down her tattooed back.

“you’re so fucking hot. so gorgeous. i’m so lucky that you’re mine.” vi’s voice is still rough and coarse with lust, but she’s looking at you all wonder-filled and soft-eyed, like you’re a work of art displayed at the louvre. “you….you are mine, right?”

the question is shockingly vulnerable from the woman who’s fucking you at a truly brutal speed, deep enough that you’re sure you’ll feel the lucious ache of her for days now. 

you bring your hands to gently cradle her face as you wrap your legs around her hips. vi snakes one of her hands down to rub at your throbbing clit, while the other rests lovingly on your tattooed ribs, where delicate violets bloom. 

“i’m yours,” you assure, and your heart glows when she beams above you. “you’re mine too, right?”

vi nods, damp strands of her hair tickling your forehead. 

“i’m yours.”

there’s a mess pooling underneath your entangled bodies by the time you’re both finished. 

for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, until vi breaks the silence:

“did you say that you brought home a slice of cake?”

the two of you throw on some clothes, throw the sheets in the wash, and vi pulls you into her lap as you share the slice of cake at the kitchen table, chattering about everything and nothing for however long, until vi glances at the oven clock.

“shit — it’s midnight already. guess time flies when you’re having fun.” vi wraps her arms around your middle, and kisses your shoulder. “happy valentine’s day, stargirl.”

“happy valentine’s day, vi,” you smile, weaving your fingers through hers. you crane your neck back so you can feed her a bite of cake. “you’re the sweetest.”

“this cake’s pretty sweet, too,” vi jokes. she peppers kisses across your face until you’re giggling, skin sticky with frosting. 

“i’m glad you like it,” you laugh. “they do wedding cakes, too, but i think we should explore our options before settling on one for ours.”

vi’s lips pause just as she starts to kiss underneath your jaw. 

“do you mean for our wedding?” she smirks. “is there something you wanna ask me, stargirl?” 

“damn it —” you cough, almost choking on a mouthful of cake. “i - i had this whole thing planned - wait, let me —”

you disappear into the bedroom and reemerge with an intricately painted vase. you hand it to vi and sit in the chair next to her.

“this is what i made in my pottery seminar,” you explain. “it’s supposed to be like —”

“that mural you made of us senior year,” vi finishes, looking between the vase and you with stars in her eyes. 

“exactly. except we won’t have to spend saturday detention painting over it.” you chuckle at the memory as vi shakes her head with a small smile dancing across her lips knowingly. “i was gonna promise to bring my beautiful wife fresh flowers for this vase every week and then i was gonna ask you to look inside….” you gesture at vi to do so, and she reaches in to pull out a velvet box. “and then i was gonna get down on one knee —”

“it’s okay — you’ve already done plenty of that tonight,” vi laughs, and you bump her shoulder playfully. 

“and i was gonna tell you that i love you, that i have for basically my whole life, and that i want to spend the rest of it with you,” you finish, heart fluttering in your chest. 

“i can’t believe you were going to propose to me.” vi places the vase on the kitchen counter behind her, smiling at you softly. 

“is that a yes or….?”

instead of answering, vi walks over to the couch, reaches behind and pulls up a heart-printed gift bag, and hands it to you. she watches intently as you pull out a turquoise-blue collar. 

“damn, i did not know you were this kinky.” you raise an eyebrow at vi. “so, is this a yes to my proposal or….just something you just wanna try in the bedroom?”

“w-what? no!” vi stutters, her cheeks blooming pink. “i mean, yes! well – okay, i also had this plan for valentine’s day.” it’s very endearing, how vi’s scrambling to find the right words. your punk rock girlfriend, flustered and lovesick for you. “okay — there’s a dog at the shelter i thought we could adopt. i brought home the paperwork for us to fill out, if that’s what you want — it’s all in there. there’s a picture of him, too.” 

you reach in the bag again and find a printed photo of an adorable brown lab with the warmest eyes. 

“he’s adorable,” you squeal. “does he have a name?”

“scooby, of course.” vi grins. “so, do you wanna adopt a dog together?”

“i do.”

“i love the sound of that,” vi hums. “there’s one more thing in there for you….”

it’s a ring pop — and you’re not sure if it’s the sugar rush, or the woman getting down on one knee and asking you, so tenderly, so sweetly, to marry her, but your heart is absolutely soaring. 

“we might have to tell our kids a more pg version of the night we got engaged,” vi whispers later, when you’re back cuddling in bed under fresh sheets.

“kids?” you twist around in vi’s arms to find her grinning at you. “is there something you want to ask me?”

“is scooby not our first child?” vi guffaws and you poke her ribs at her cheekiness.

“true.”

“besides, you know what they say, stargirl,” she practically sings. “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes —”

you cut her off with a sugary, confetti-flavored kiss, your smiles melting into one.

[shouyuus]

Yeahhhhhh I'm gonna need the mutual cockblocking with Vi, yup.

based off of this ask. PHEW alright so uh, bullet points today bc /pops open another bottle of champagne/ it's that kind of day:

is it rly called bullying if u and vi r bullying each other and ur both like... into it? (neither of u are being subtle, everyone can see the yearning and they're all either super invested in when ur gonna hook up or tired AF of ur shit)

pitfighter!vi who glares at anyone who tries to chat you up at the bar that you frequent after all her fights (u volunteer at the dingy little clinic two doors down from the fighting ring and she thinks ur too naive for the mouth you've got on you -- and you do have a mouth on you dear sweet god), pays the bartender extra to keep an eye on you and double dose whoever is trying to chat you up that night bc hell be damned if vi'll see you leave with any of these weird fuckers

loris is so over vi's tantrums whenever you push yourself between her and someone she's sweet-talking; he knows that vi's just doing it bc she knows that the moment you see her reach out to push the hair of out of another girl's face, you'll be shimmying your way over and wiggling between them, pressing your tits up against the bar, snagging the drink that vi was gonna offer her potential hookup (and yeah, what if vi ordered a drink she knew you'd like better? huh? that's got nothing to do with anything)

"why don't you just take her home?". vi squinting at loris in the dimness of the alley behind the bar, "wh-what? i don't want that -- that conniving little... rabbit -- i like someone who's a bit more bite -- or... whatever." loris hitches an eyebrow, watching vi with a deadpanned look before sighing, "yeah. whatever you say."

whenever your friends ask you why on earth you're so hell bent on keeping vi from hooking up with a rando, you'd frown and huff and "you should see the way she comes into the clinic every other day -- i'm -- i'm doing a public service! she's gonna ruin whoever she gets her hands on and -- and i've gotta watch out for the sisterhood, yknow?" cue all ur friends rolling their eyes, "uh-huh. yeah. right."

the one night that vi manages to get someone halfway to the door, you catch them right before vi manages to lead the girl out into the street, draping yourself across vi's back, giggling as you loop your arms around her neck, "vi! i was looking for you everywhere -- you promised we could hang out after your fight tonight -- did you forget again?" you purposefully stumble into the girl she's with, knocking their hands apart. vi grimaces, narrowing her eyes as she rounds on you, intent on telling you off when she catches sight of what you're wearing -- a black leather skirt that barely kisses the tops of your thighs and a tiny little red croptop that leaves nothing to the imagination, dark fishnets criss-crossing up your legs (her mouth waters at the thought of ripping them apart to bury her fingers in your cunt) --

"uhm... friend of yours?" her would-be date asks, clearly a bit put-off as she looks you over. you pull your face into a girlish pout, batting your lashes at vi, "aw... are you doing this to get back at me for the other night? i said was sorry -- would you feel better if i let you eat me out in the back alley again --"

at that point, the girl vi's with pulls away and vi barely tries to get her back before rounding on you. the dopey grin slides off your face and your eyes glitter like shards of broken glass as vi growls at you, yanking you behind her till you're both in the dim alleyway behind the bar, the thick metal door slamming shut behind you

"what the fuck is your problem?!" she asks. you roll your eyes, scoffing, "whatever the fuck is yours. i've told you that you're supposed to be resting, and you never listen --" "i come to you so you can stitch up my face not so you can give me life advice --" "well i won't have to much of your face to stitch up if you keep on going like this cause you're gonna get yourself killed!" "why the fuck do you care?!" "cause it's my job!"

vi groans, jerking away from you to kick at an already toppled over trashcan, the metallic clank of it ringing through the narrow street

"you don't get paid to cockblock me at the fucking bar --" "and you don't get paid to spend all your winnings bribing the bartender into double-dosing all my potential dates!" vi whirls around then, eyes wide, "i -- i don't know what the hell you're --" you let out a wild shriek of laughter, "oh please! you're not subtle -- and you don't think pete and i have known each other for way longer than he's known you?"

vi huffs, folding her arms defensively over chest, glaring down the alley at the thing strip of light cresting in from the street out front, "that's -- those people -- they're not good for you. they'd --" she swallows hard, "they'd hurt you -- chew you up and spit you back out and --"

you cock your eyebrows, "you don't think i know that? i am from the lanes too, yknow."

vi scowls, "then you should start acting like it."

"what?" "nothing." "no, seriously -- what is it with you?" "nothing! god fuckin' -- forget it -- i'll find another bar to --" "violet."

her eyes jerk up, "how -- who -- how'dyou know my name?"

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "your friend? loris? he told me after the first time you punched a guy for trying to talk to me. you're probably too drunk to remember but --" vi shakes her head, "no i -- i do -- that guy was an ass -- i knew him from back when i used to run jobs for -- well, doesn't matter much now but --"

"i can look after myself, violet," you say. vi scoffs before she can stop herself, "yeah. okay." you sigh, leaning back against the bar's back door, "or are you just so caught up in needing something to protect that you don't see it?"

vi very nearly flinches. "what?"

you purse your lips, "i said what i said." "yeah well, say it again." she closes the space between you both in a few quick strides, crowding into your space, slamming a palm against the door next to your face. to your credit, you don't even blink.

there's a flicker of something behind your eyes that licks fire along the length of vi's spine; "i said -- you should find some other little puppet to work out your problems on because i'm done --"

she's kissing you before you can finish your sentence, and there's nothing caring or gentle about the way she bullies her tongue into your mouth and licks along the backsides of your teeth, nothing kind or caring about the way she yanks you forward by the back of your neck till you're sure you'll be able to feel the ghosts of her fingers against your skin for days and days to come

you moan into her, biting down hard on her bottom lip, grinning when the harsh, metallic tang of blood seeps across your tongue. when she pulls back, you're both panting, and you've never seen her eyes so dark, so hungry and crowded with sharp, thunderheads of lust

"mm, that's one way to shut you up," vi muses, running a thumb along the line of your jaw. you grin, a slanted, fox-sly thing. "admit it, you've been wanting to do that for ages."

vi's lips curl; she leans in close enough for you to taste the cheap whiskey on her breath as she says, "sure, and so have you."

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (1)

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

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

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

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

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

࿐ for those who yearn <3

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what do you think i work here for?” 

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

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

unhappy faces with blank stares. 

he smiles at them cheerfully.

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

“jungkook! sit!” 

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

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

“what?”

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

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

he imagined he would be alone here again today.

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

the earth begins to move in slow motion. 

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

gone is the smile on his face. 

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

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

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

and why is his breaking too? 

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

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

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

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

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

slow motion comes to a full stop.

shit, shit, shit. 

why can’t he look away? 

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

he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.

“huh?”

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

wait, including you… 

when did you get a cap?!

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

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

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

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

“does he have snacks in here at least?”

—

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

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

“miss- miss! you dropped this!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

could it really be because of a boy?

a bicycle enters his line of vision. 

a little too close not to cause an accident. 

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

the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible. 

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

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

“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”

“yah! what was that for?!” 

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

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

his angry expression softens. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“why?”

he has the same question.

“just because…”

no, that won’t do it.

“maybe it could make you feel better.”

oh my god.

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

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

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

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

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

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

blue top and black cap… 

there you are. 

leaving- 

wait. 

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

he huffs in sheer disbelief.

“huh, she’s pretty and rude.” 

—

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

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

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

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

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

“ah, there you go. safe and sound!” 

“thanks,”

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

“you’re welcome!” 

—

 

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

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

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

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

“do you want to die?” 

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

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

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

“huh? no.”

“you’re lying.”

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

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

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

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

“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”

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

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

“can’t you just let me sleep?!” 

“wow, you’re so grumpy today.” 

took him long enough to deduce.

“then should we go after your nap?” 

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

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

jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“okay, fine!” 

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

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

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

—

 

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

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

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

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

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

completely unrelated. 

a thousand miles away from the topic at hand. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“so what? we all got issues.” 

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

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

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

“now, shall we rank up?” 

—

 

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

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

at least that’s the excuse he used. 

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

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

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

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

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

“hello everyone,” he coos at them.

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

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

—

 

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

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

that is when he finally notices you. 

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

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

“i know you…” 

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

“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”

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

well, and there’s also the crippling shame.

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

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

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

you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious. 

is that a good thing or a bad thing? 

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

“yeah, light pink…” 

“it suits you well.” 

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

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

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

“i moved in today.”

“oh, i see… that makes sense.” 

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

“i live at the 13th floor.“ 

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

“how about you?” 

“hm, 10!” 

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

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

“names?” 

the random question seems to catch him off guard.

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

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

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

—

 

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

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

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

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

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

“i already did.”

“you did?”

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

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

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

“when i come home from work.”

“that’s nice…” 

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

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

“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”

“graveyard shift,” you simply answer. 

pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind. 

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

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

“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”

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

however, he is a tiny bit confused.

it shows on his face, apparently.

“the motor kind,” you clarify. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.

“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”

—

 

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

what a small world, huh? 

what is this if not fate?

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

this might just become the best summer of his life. 

—

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

wait, there’s something wrong…

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

“ah, i’m so stupid!”

he totally forgot to ask your name! 

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

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

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

“still having a bad day.” 

—

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

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

his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.

he taps his foot on the floor.

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

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

next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve. 

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

the elevator dings and he runs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“this is jungkook.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

so, his name is jungkook…

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

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

“he’s a good kid.”

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

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

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

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

—

“hyung…”

“why?” 

jungkook sighs. “can you text me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume. 

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

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

“i don’t have her number.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts. 

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“i won it fair and square!” 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

a car with blinding headlights zooms past.

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

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

none that he knows of anyway. 

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

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

you were going to notice his presence eventually. 

he doesn’t know what he was expecting. 

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

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

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

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

could have it been on purpose? 

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

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

“is there anything i can do?”

no response. 

he tries again. “anything at all?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

nothing matters anymore.

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

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

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

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

you pray to god that you never wake up.

—

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

you open your eyes to darkness.

just as you predicted; nobody listens. 

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 

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

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

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

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

the live is temporarily put on pause. 

“who is this?”

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

  2:45am

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

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

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

you texted him. you finally texted him.

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

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

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

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

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

he shakes his head with a click his tongue. 

“i don’t think so…”

hold on…

it feels like he’s forgetting something…

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

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

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

—

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

his stomach growls at his selfish decision. 

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

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

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

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

you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights. 

—

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

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

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

“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.” 

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

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

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

“how? it’s easy!” 

he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks. 

“you have the exact same nose.” 

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

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

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

cute. 

“so… why did you lie?”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

“h-how do i do that?” 

“flick my forehead!”

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

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

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

“let’s do that!”

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

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

“here i go!”

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

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

son of a bitch. that hurt. 

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

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

  —

“you fed them, right?”

“of course i did. you?”

“yes, this morning.”

“okay, that’s good.”

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

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

he sneaks a glance at you.

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

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

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

“it’s called the dreamboat.”

“what is?” 

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

“at the amusement park.” 

“oh…”

it falls silent. 

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

“i wonder why they called it that.”

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

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

“what was it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

he shrugs. “i work there.”

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

“you? do you study or work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i don’t have anyone to tell.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“but it turns out they have you already.”

“it’s not just me now.”

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

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

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

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

“uhm, this is me.” 

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

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

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

“goodnight, jungkook.”

—

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

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

  10:08am

[attached image]

they’re happy and fed :)

10:10am

[attached image]

babies are getting bigger

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

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

no longer relevant. 

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

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

although, there was once a miracle.

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

  11:59pm

LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ

😭😭😭

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

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

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

he hasn’t stopped thinking about that. 

—

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

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

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

“when’s that ‘right time’?” 

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

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

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

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

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

the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“this vacation was a trap.”

the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.

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

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

  

—

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

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

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

seconds later, a black harley races past.

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

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

“w-was that…?”

—

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

you’re so fucking cool. 

he’s both amazed and envious. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.

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

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

“thank you.”

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

“i’m really scared, jungkook.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and you said… he was burnt?” 

“yeah, why?”

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

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

“i swear, it's nothing!”

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

“forget it, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“oh… so you’re saying…”

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

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

“don’t!” he protests. 

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

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

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

that works like a charm. 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“thank you, jungkook.” 

“it’s no problem!”

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

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

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

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

“is that your girlfriend?” 

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

“is she okay with me sleeping here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no one’s asked you?”

he shakes his head. “no one,”

“would you do mine if i ask you to?” 

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

what the fuck?

did he hear you right? 

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

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

“sorry, i was just surprised.” 

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

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

please do and stop shaking up my heart. 

“goodnight.” 

“goodnight, ____.” 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“of course,” 

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“____?” 

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

did you really leave without saying goodbye? 

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

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

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

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

“jungkook! you’re awake.” 

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

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

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

“1309?” he exclaims.

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

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

he’s fucking ecstatic. 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

fuck, he misses you. 

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

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

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

No Name

Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME! 

snack break at the aquarium? 

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

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

ridiculous. 

so cute and ridiculous. 

—

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

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

but most importantly, what did you just say?

“y-you didn’t throw it away?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

you gasp. “everything? is that normal?” 

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

“okay, i’m searching on naver.” 

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

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

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

“you free sunday?” 

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

please say yes.

“sure, that works.”

he breaks into a triumphant smile. 

yes! 

—

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

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

“you can barely see my face.” 

“i see it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m joking!” you giggle.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“i’ll pay you back.” 

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

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

“call!” 

jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too. 

“okay, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

his breathing stops when he sees your face so close. 

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

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

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

“it’s not the fish i want.” 

he doesn’t hear you. 

do you see how entranced he is by your lips? 

“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”

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

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

—

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

“like me…”

— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“have any ideas?”

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

he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.

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

“those are cute names.”

“you like them?”

“yes, they really sound like siblings!”

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

“hmmm…” 

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

“sorry,” he winces.

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

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

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

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

he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.  

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

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

“dahlia it is!” 

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

“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles. 

“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”

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

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

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

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

“should i just give it to you?”

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

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

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

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

“i like being the only one.”

you fell asleep seconds after that.

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

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

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

eventually, it dries, and is erased from history. 

[jhoneybees]

Happy Valentine's Day

Heyyy!!! Posting a little poem for our special man today(it's actually the day after Valentine's Day for me but ignore that-) I'll try to start posting fics again, my break has been long enough😭

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @hooked-on-elvis @thelonelyheart @theelvisprincess @i-r-i-n-a-a @iloveelvisss @polksaladava

Another note: Hopefully this poem makes sense-

_____________________________________________

Flowers, chocolates, kisses, cuddles

It’s lonely on Valentine’s day without you

Surrounded by adorable couples, laughing and smiling

I wish we could be one of them

The way I long for those strong arms to hold me, for those soft lips to warm my skin

To receive a love letter that I would cherish with all my heart, engraved within

I know you would have a line of women waiting for any chance to be with you

And I probably wouldn’t catch your eye

But if you read this poem and it makes that cute crooked grin appear

My heart would fly

Kissing all over those sweet adorable cheeks and lovely soft belly

I want, I need, I’d love to show you

How beautiful, how neat you are

You probably think this little girl is being dramatic

Yearning so badly for you

You’re right

But if only we could meet

I would pour everything out

Possibly making you soften and understand

Telling truly, how much I love you

Happy Valentine’s to you, my love

[lichenes]

#1 dad(dy)

based on those tweets/tumblr posts: ⓪ ① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ CW: mentions of smoking, actor au wc: 571 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The sound of clapperboard was heard as the day of filming began. “Today, due to immense demand, Gabriel Fouché, will be reading your thirst tweets!” Said the director with a bright smile. A part of the contract with the studio recording “Arcane” was to take part in a few interviews, this one was a bit- unusual for him. 

“RIP to Silco, you would’ve loved vaping ‘bandaged heart’, you would’ve been doing crazy smoke tricks on tiktok ‘R. N’.” He chuckled. “What does R, N mean?” Laughs could be heard behind the cameras. Someone answered. “Right now.” Gabriel nodded. 

“Well I did have to learn how to smoke cigars and do tricks with the smoke for the role. I do have to admit I am a habitual cigarette smoker so it was infinitely easier to master the art.” He paused for a moment. “As for the tiktok tricks - I’m a jughead when it comes to technology so unless there would be someone doing all the recording… you aren’t seeing those videos any time soon.” 

“The children yearn for the mines, and my photo underneath it.” He burst out laughing, putting his hand on his mouth. “Ahahah- okay, okay. Yeah they do.” 

“I think about this Silco moment every day, my god he’s so hot here.” Gabriel tilted his head. “Hmm… it seems most fans of Silco find him most attractive when he’s kicking the camera. I wonder why.” He put his hand on his chin in faux thought and then laughed.

“Sorry but older Silco ‘greater-than’ young Silco. I actually have to disagree on that.” He said. “Younger Silco was in one scene and he captured so many hearts, both on set and amongst the viewers, that Older Silco didn’t manage to do with all his screen time. Younger Silco is something special…” 

“Hashtag Zaundads, actually!” Gabriel got closer to the camera and put his hand to his mouth almost as to whisper a secret. “Me and Gerard actually kissed to prepare for the alternate universe episode, to really get into character, you know.” Gasps were heard in the studio. “I’m joking.” He said winking towards the camera.

“Silco’s left eye is missing eyelids so I guess he was sleeping like this every night. Exactly what happened I can attest to that.” He nodded solemnly. “Actually, SIlco just doesn’t sleep ever, that’s how he runs Zaun, he does not let his guard down even for a moment. Poor guy, he needs to relax more.” 

“P, L, S - please, I assume? - Stop posting Silco thirst he looks like my dad, and a comment left under that, is your dad single? I’d love to meet my doppelganger! Send me a message and we shall schedule it.” He said half-joking as an email popped up on the screen. 

“And the final one- okay who the hell was all over my dash two years ago thirsting over Silco, I understand you now. I want his whole wardrobe and he can read the dictionary to me until I fall asleep. I actually have a deal to voice a certain someone in a new project we’ve been working on with the cast so keep your eyes open!” He said. “And as for my wardrobe, I’ve seen some pretty talented people replicating my outfits! So it’s clearly easy to steal Silco’s wardrobe.” 

“Thank you all for watching!!” He exclaimed with his million dollar smile as the cameras stopped rolling.

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

masterlist

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

For @voxtekinc's POTW

CW: Angst...

Alastor often had you around doing odd jobs for him with Niffty, and after some time you'd begun to feel more than just... Subservience to him.

And after weeks of yearning for any sign you decide to bite the bullet and make a move first... It can't go too badly... Right? He's... Fond of you isn't he?

Making your way up the seemingly endless staircase to Alastor's radio tower, you must have turned back on yourself over twenty times, and when you knocked on the door to a melodious 'Enter!' from Alastor you nearly bolted.

You kept telling yourself to suck it up, also you were an idiot but you opened the door anyway and stepped in after a rush of air filled your lungs to calm you.

Alastor's smile was absolutely normal... Not threatening at all. You told yourself as his eyes narrowed.

Alastor: "Well dear what is it?"

When you hesitated for far too long. You jolt slight and the words rush out.

You: "So we've known each other for a while now..."

Not even a greeting, nice... Idiot.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, his smile widening slightly.

Alastor: "Is that so? I suppose we have... though I can hardly say I've taken much notice."

Alastor chuckled softly, leaning back against his console as he scrutinised you trying to figure out what exactly prompted this odd behaviour.

Alastor: "Well then, out with it. What brings you here today, my dear?"

Alastor's tone was light, almost mocking, as if he found your presence amusing rather than welcome.

Alastor: "Surely not just to reminisce about our 'long acquaintance', hmm?"

You blush furiously and fidget nervously, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

You: "W-well, y-you know, I just thought maybe we could spend some more time together! Y-you're always so busy with work and stuff..."

Stupid, idiotic fool.

Alastor tilts his head slightly, observing your nervous demeanour with amusement glinting in his crimson eyes. A sly smirk plays across his lips as he rises and prowls closer to you, his tall frame looming over you.

Alastor: Oh? I don't think that's necessary in your duties is it, dear?

You: "I-it's not about my d-duties!" You stammer out, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I just...I really like spending time with you Alastor. You're so cool and talented and pow-"

Alastor: "That's not what you want at all though is it, hmm? No I can always sense when someone needs something and you need more than just my time now don't you?"

Alastor's suddenly behind you, claws skirting up your trembling arms leaving redlines and goosebumps in their wake. He hot breath tickles the back of your ear as he folds himself over you.

Alastor: "If you don't ask you certainly don't get."

His grin is so sharp, you know he's playing with you but you can't help but hope... Maybe, just maybe.

You lose what little breath you had left in your lungs and you're sure even his ears can't even pick up your whisper.

You: "C-can I... I mean I want to... Can't I kiss you... That is... I mean-"

Alastor cuts you off with a sharp laugh, reaching around to grasp your chin firmly between his fingers.

Alastor: "I'm afraid I don't have time for such frivolous pursuits and certainly not with you, I have everything I need from you after all don't I dear?"

You feel your stomach drop and bile burn your throat as the weight of the chain solidifies in an all too familiar chafing, the smell of sulphur intensifying as Alastor grows, or is it just the shadows making the room darker?

Alastor's grip tightens painfully as he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your cheek. "Now run along before I lose my patience entirely."

You're choking from air as the weight all lifts and you're stumbling out the door with what you swear is a soft push and the door slams behind you after the reminder you won't be let off of your duties for the day...

You end up on all fours, hands tugging painfully at your hair trying not to cry as his mocking voice still echoes in your mind... It isn't until much later you realise you had also seen fear in Alastor's eyes for the very first time...

[nightcolorz]

do you have thoughts on how marius would have kept a human amadeo in line for another ten years. I have to imagine it's holding vampirism over his head for longer but rereading the parts of TVA I was looking at today and how tumultuous their relationship already was after two years I'm like damn that bitch had his work cut out for him....

Lmao omg 😭😭 love this question I love the idea of a nearing thirty yr old Amadeo who’s fit and strong and CRAZY driving Marius to insanity (as he should). I mean it definitely wasn’t easy. Marius is very insecure and I picture him being made very anxious over Amadeo becoming stronger and older and feeling helpless to stop this. Marius considers his control over Amadeo essential to their “love” and relationship, and feeling like he’s loosing control when Amadeo becomes a person is terrifying to him. We know from the books that any inclination that Amadeo is growing into an independent person capable of being self sufficient causes Marius to loose his absolute mind.

I feel like Amadeo is so attached to marius tho that he didn’t have to do much more then threaten to leave him + leave him alone for a few days to remind him of how much he needs him (therefore stopping any rebellion in its tracks). Amadeo is a Crazy bitch but the second Marius leaves to visit Akasha for a little bit Amadeo looses his shit and begs him to stay with him. Any threat on Amadeo’s part to run away is all talk and they both know it. Marius has done sm to abuse Amadeo into codependency that I feel like by the time Amadeo is an adult and has been living this life attached to Marius for so long the abuse does the work for him. Like, Amadeo is still going to be a piece of work but there is no real possibility of Marius loosing him, bcus Amadeo can’t live without him.

It’s definitely not all roses, like I imagine by the time Amadeo is a restless adult being treated the same as he was when he was fifteen the beatings r going to increase based on reckless and insane behavior increasing. But Amadeo feels like he can’t live without Marius and would rather die then be left alone, so I think that a reminder of “I could abandon u at a moments notice” would be enough for Amadeo to keep himself in check. (Especially bcus amc Marius makes it clearer then book Marius that Amadeo is property to him and Amadeo is very aware of the fact that he is a thing that can be replaced and therefore needs to make himself useful. Amc Armand is not necessarily privileged enough to rebel to an extreme point 😭).

so my thoughts r, I think that Marius is so insecure that he forgets how much Armand’s history of abuse affects his behavior. So what I think is, even tho Amadeo has very little chance of actually becoming independent from Marius bcus of how unhealthily codependent he is, Marius despite being aware of this fears his independence a ton and gets that out of his system by taking more abusive measures to make sure amadeo’s afraid of rebelling. This is kind of what happens in the book, but I imagine with an extra ten years it becomes more extreme. According to Armand in tva marius only really starts beating him when he hits puberty and starts fighting for his identity and independence, so I think with an adult Amadeo the beatings just get really bad. In the book Marius beats Armand when he displays his identity and independence that’s uncontrollable by him when he’s yearning for his family he lost. Marius is frightened by Armand regaining who he was before him (cuz marius is afraid of loosing control over Armand). So I think in amc iwtv this behavior gets to the point of like, marius starts restricting when Amadeo can leave the palazzo, doesn’t allow him to see Bianca or Riccardo, controlling stuff like that, that r like useless measures attempting to stop Amadeo from growing up and therefore realizing that he doesn’t need Marius.

and u know how in the vampire Armand Marius shaves Amadeo before he turns him so that he’ll be as young looking as possible for eternity? I imagine for amc Armand, Marius is also very frightened of Amadeo growing into an adult and becoming physically a man. So maybe he puts restrictions on his physical appearance, shaves him down like he does in tva, cuts his hair, emotionally abuses him into seeing himself as more of a child then he is, just so that he won’t loose that youth Marius is attracted to. What Marius is really scared of is Armand becoming an adult, bcus Marius is attracted to the child he can control, not an adult. he doesn’t want a man, he wants a boy. And the horrible thing is, the way that Marius treats Armand ends up ultimately stunting his ability to be an adult, and in a way Marius gets his eternal boy forever.

[valentine-writes]

their "i love you"s and other drabbles...

「 tws + notes: no tws, HEAVILY unedited, a little angst in sum partz but f it we ball (THERE'S SUMN WRONG W/ ME I NEVER DO THIS MUCH?), fluff, tried to add a lil bit of everyone, little thoughtz abt the characters,,, 」

↳ ft. ben reilly/scarlet spider, gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, jessica drew, lyla, margo kess, miles morales (1610 and 42), miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, pavitr prabhakar, peter b parker, spider-man noir, and the spot/johnathan ohnn

「 gn!reader, romantic relationships <3 」

author's note: not my usual content but thought it wud b fun to whip up a few drabbles,, (´。＿。｀) diff format than usual too! all separate and stuff, w/ the characterz at the bottom being the ones the drabble applies to the most (ALL CAPZ MEANS I THOUGHT IT FIT THEM SUPER WELL!!!!) thought it wud b fun,,, altered lyrics are italicized, itz jus a pronoun change 2 make it gender neutral (❁´◡`❁) edit: my tags. do not fit. so i had to redo them. reblogz r super appreciated ^_^ i jus wanna make sure all fans of these characterz are being fed content <33

[ please don't forget about me - pompey ]

"and if you see me everyday / will I lose my shine?"

↳ always terrified of not being exciting and new to you– like one day, their appeal will fade. not like they understand what drew you to them in the first place, but they never asked. maybe you're just hanging around for the hell of it. maybe one day, they'll watch you leave and they'll have nothing to convince you to stay

"how many bad jokes will it take? / or awkward quiet times?"

↳ they wonder if they're already losing you slowly. everytime they speak to you, it's like they're trying to compensate for something. begging you to look at them– but not too close,,, just in case you notice how brutally flawed they are, beyond just the quirks you find endearing. maybe one day you'll look too deep into their eyes and you won't like what you see

▸ JOHNATHAN OHNN/THE SPOT, peter b parker

[ soft sounds from another planet - japanese breakfast ]

"i'll show you the way to hurt me"

↳ loving again is the biggest risk anyone who's been hurt like them could take. you make it worth the danger– the possibility of the pain they've grown all too familiar with. maybe for today, caution can be set aside. when it comes to you, they wouldn't mind letting their guard down.

"in search of a soft sound from another planet / in search of a quiet place to lay this to rest."

↳ they have to admit their past has burdened them in ways they can't even begin to communicate. they know you can't fix everything that has been broken in their lives. still, the comfort you provide is never taken for granted. you are their safe space– the soft sound from another planet. their quiet place to finally lay it all to rest. and suddenly, the aching in their chest doesn't eat them up inside as much as it used to.

you make it easy to love again.

▸ GWEN STACY, MIGUEL O'HARA/SPIDER-MAN 2099

[ our lullabye - miracle musical ]

"i was made for you / you were made for me"

↳ it's hard to believe that you're more than just a distant fantasy sometimes. they can't deny how much they've yearned for a love like the one you two share. something so sweet, so real. it's nothing like the movies or the fairytales, but is anything ever? even when things are messy and complicated, it's undeniable how perfect it all feels. how everything about the two of you just fits. they're inclined to thank every shooting star they've ever wished on, every birthday candle they've ever held their deepest desires in as they blew the flame out for the day you two met. by any manner of higher power or forces unseen to the human eye, they're certain fate was on their side to give them such a blessing.

"i'll love you 'till you're gone / our song goes on and on"

↳ they're determined to hold on as long as possible. all good things cannot last– but they try not to dwell on that thought. they hold onto the hope that you're the one thing that will stay. your love feels divine. radiant, in the way it overtakes them fully. they almost feel undeserving. so, no matter how small or how grand the action, they try to remind you every day, "i love you"s woven into their every being whenever you're around.

▸ lyla, SPIDER-MAN NOIR, johnathan ohnn/the spot

[ i will - mitski ]

"everything you feel is good / if you would only let you"

↳ sometimes they feel you holding back. they can't help but notice the tension in the room as you suppress the things you want to say, silence the thoughts in your head. they know it's not easy to be earnest all the time. but they love you– they care for you. and all they've ever wanted is for you to be authentic. if it's pure, how could it ever be wrong? maybe in your own time, you'll be able to unravel in front of them. they're by your side every step of the way. to finally have you open up to them– to be real, to be honest– it would mean the world to them. they want to show you they love every single part of you. they love you when you're upset, when you're crying, when you're angry– because it's you.

"so stay with me / hold my hand / there's no need / to be brave"

↳ they offer every reassurance they can give you. you no longer have to fend for yourself. those days of being alone are over. you can crumble apart if you need– there's no need for constant bravery anymore. you did such a good job picking yourself up, time and time again. now, they outstretch a hand to you, a silent way of saying, "let me help you this time."

▸ ben reilly/scarlet spider, gwen stacy, HOBIE BROWN/SPIDER-PUNK, JESSICA DREW, lyla, MILES MORALES (1610), PAVITR PRABHAKAR, PETER B PARKER tbh all of them but shhh

[ right side of my neck - faye webster ]

"you looked back at me once / but i looked back two times"

↳ absolutely smitten with you. it doesn't matter how hard you fell. they. fell. harder. and maybe it's not obvious to you. but they've never had someone who made them care so much. some part of them feels immature for feeling so in love,, like a school kid with a puppy crush. they find it ridiculous, how absolutely lovesick and enamoured they are with everything about you. whatever you feel and express towards them, they feel towards you three times as much. they try everyday to show it.

"the right side of my neck / still smells like you"

↳ you just seem to leave a part of you with them always. they can't ignore it– can't seem to escape your presence, even when you're not physically there. it felt like spiralling to insanity at first. but they've learned to appreciate it– find comfort in it, even. the way the smell of your shampoo lingers on the pillow they leant you when you stayed over, the way that the mug of tea (made just the way you like it) is still on the kitchen table from the morning after– you left your t-shirt once and you had to ask them directly for it back. they like keeping pieces of you near. it reminds them of how loved they are.

▸ BEN REILLY/SCARLET SPIDER, gwen stacy, HOBIE BROWN/SPIDER-PUNK, MARGO KESS, miles morales (1610 and 42), pavitr prabhakar, the spot/johnathan ohnn

[ you love me - kimya dawson ]

"but when i met you, right away, i knew / you would never, ever, ever hurt me"

↳ you're used to pulling away. leave before they can leave you, before they even try to make you miss them– but the second you met them? they were insistent on proving that they were harmless. they could never dream of hurting you. and they see as you pull away, scared to get too close– and yet, every single time, they open their arms back to you.

"and the road's still long but you come along / and you hold my hand, and you understand"

↳ "when you're ready" has become second place in their favourite three word sentences. they remind you of these words constantly.

"when you're ready" means they don't mind that it's not now. ""when you're ready" means it doesn't matter how long they have to wait for you, they will. when you're ready" is another form of "i love you"

▸ MARGO KESS, MILES MORALES (1610), pavitr prabhakar, PETER B PARKER, spider-man noir

[ (you) on my arm - leith ross ]

"i wanna buy you pretty little things / and never ever lie to you"

↳ wants something simple with you. craves a form of sweet, normalcy. the mundane tasks and events of life seem far more appealing to them when you're in the picture. no, they never really imagined ever having a quiet life, yet the hope for one with you lingered. to buy you little gifts, to be the best they could possibly be to you, to drive around with you for the hell of it. they're certain anything could be heaven if you were there to accompany them.

a quiet life sounds nice.

"i'd be better armed if you agreed to take it"

↳ having you on their arm just makes them feel secure. keeping you close while showing you off to the world– showing you've got each other. they're a bit sappy for little things like this. everywhere you go, they never fail to extend an arm out to you. something about you makes them feel safer than ever.

▸ jessica drew, miles morales (1610), MILES MORALES (42), peter b parker, SPIDER-MAN NOIR

[ peach scone - hobo johnson ]

"so I fall to ground, collect myself and get ready to take over your heart / or at least your spare time"

↳ they try so incredibly hard to be the one for you. no matter what they try, they just seem to fumble and mess it up. they stumble over their words when they try to compliment you, they get weak in the knees when they try to make a move, and no matter how much they spend deliberating, and deliberating– they've got no clue how to win you over. hopefully you find their clumsy attempts endearing. they're making a fool of themself. and maybe, they haven't really said anything yet– but they're happy to at least hang around you in the meantime

▸ BEN REILLY/SCARLET SPIDER, gwen stacy, MILES MORALES (1610), spider-man noir, the spot/johnathan ohnn

[ dan the dancer - mitski ]

" he liked them more than life itself / i'm sure "

↳ he was quiet in the way he expressed his adoration. still, he did everything he could to ensure you would never go unloved. the way he looks into your eyes, taking you in like you are the loveliest thing on earth... it's only fitting. you're his world. maybe in the silent moments, when his fingers gently brush your cheek, admiring you– you'd begin to understand this.

▸ MILES MORALES (42), MIGUEL O'HARA/SPIDER-MAN 2099

[ lover // over the moon - alice phoebe lou ]

"i'm a lover / i feel it now / i'm a lover / just never knew how"

↳ they don't even try to hide how much they enjoy your company. you're special to them– why would they try to hide that? at this point, whenever you feel arms wrap around you from behind, you've learned to see their grinning face when you glance over your shoulder. maybe they've never been particularly shy about most things,, but now they're just twice as loud. it's inexplicable, the things you do to them. they hadn't anticipated being so utterly soft,,, not like they're complaining

▸ hobie brown/spider-punk, PAVITR PRABHAKAR

[v3nusxsky]

hello, this is my first time asking here so im kinda shy... maybe can u do a emily prentiss x fem!reader where emily for some reason finds a cowboy hat and put it on to show reader and that turns reader on, then reader needs emily to deal with her... maybe smut if you into it ? thanks, also im following you for a little time and im loving your stories, bye angel

Reverse Cowgirl 18+

*Authors note~ I was unsure on which direction I wanted to take this due to writers block but I low key love it and the last word of the ask seemed to incorporate itself well here, I hope you love it*

Trigger Warnings~ roleplay?? dom em sub r daddy Emily cowboy hat reverse cowgirl position strap oral praise kink degrading kink

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

It was so rare that you ever had time to spare from chasing serial killers all around the world, but thankfully today seemed to be a rare restful day. No phone buzzing at ungodly hours of the morning with the words "we got a case." No this morning you'd awoken to your favourite agent peacefully sleeping next to you. Your girlfriend, not that anyone else knew. These mornings were definitely your favourite. You often wonder how she gets away with looking so damn gorgeous but then again your too busy starring to care why, instead admiring her beauty.

A lazy morning with your love sounded absolutely perfect until your phone began buzzing on the nightstand. A silent pray for it to not be work, you answered the call to be greeted with an excited shriek form the one and only miss Penelope Garcia. "Pg!" You whined, "my ears Garcia, what do you need?" A little scoff made its way over the line, "you me JJ and Prentiss, shopping at noon. No excuses we need a girl day and I need to spoil my god sons. I'll text you the address, bye sweets!" And just like that she was gone. It wasn't a few seconds later, and your girlfriends phone buzzed too. Trying to contain your laughter as she attempted to wriggle out of the girls day, and her side glance at you while mouthing "traitor" before giving in and accepting that she needed to get up. After the phone call ended you promised if Emily got out of bed you could shower together, apparently that was all the motivation she needed.

After a shower that took twice as long as it normally would've due to Emily's wandering hands you finally secured breakfast and both left to meet the girls. Emily drove you both and honestly you'd be lying if you said her driving with a hand on your thigh didn't drive you insane, soon enough you were separating ways after a final kiss to avoid the suspicion. A part of you wished you could hold her hand in public or kiss her cheek but another part was too scared they'd try and reassign you to keep you both apart. You'd like to think Hotch wouldn't do that but you knew it was out of his control. Plus they didn't even know you were bisexual with a preference for women.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have fun watching Garcia absolutely raid the toy stores and clothing shops while JJ insisted they didn't need anything since the absolute flood of gifts on six months ago. Garcia always won those arguments, finding some kind of loophole somewhere which made you giggle, Emily grabbed everything a coffee in order to slip a little I love you on your cup and every chance she got she discreetly joined your hands under tables. Small things like that made your heart yearn for her.

Now to end up in a sexy shop wasn't on your to do list but with JJ and Wills anniversary coming up it wasn't surprising she wanted to get him something or someone to unwrap. Garcia wondering off to another toy store left you and Emily waiting for JJ. Both of you pretending to look around separately while mentally compiling a list of outfits to get,

Emily even going as far to look at some of the strap ons. Seeing a cow boy hat in a sex shop was certainly something unexpected yet you still couldn't resist putting it on.

"Fetch me my horse daddy" you giggled adding a southern drawl into your accent causing Emily to spin around in confusion. There you stood with a cow boy hat on your head, going surprisingly well with your braided hair, and a riding crop in your right hand, "I believe I found my ride" you whispered before cheekily winking at the stunned woman. While you were putting it back where up I found the accessories you completely missed the raven haired woman buying a certain something and slipping away to hide it.

By the time JJ returned with her gift Emily was back looking at objects in the room as if she'd never left. The imagine of you being her perfect cowgirl never leaving her mind, all the ways she could fuck you in that outfit. On all fours her hand gripping and tugging on your braids as she absolutely rails you from behind. Oh and you'd be so good for her, you always were. Her sweet little cow girl. Unbeknownst to you a silly little dress up would result into an absolutely desperate Emily tonight.

The journey back to Emily's apartment was blissfully normal until you arrived. There she went to the boot of the car and grabbed a cow boy hat. The hat suited her so well and you found yourself to distract to try and find out where she got it from due to the sticky wetness now dripping down your thick thighs. "God daddy so big! I need you" you whined pitifully as she came to hug you from behind, purposefully rubbing her bulge into your ass. That was new. She definitely wasn't packing when you left this morning that was for sure. God she knew how to drive you absolutely wild.

Emily allowed you to practically drag her into the apartment and straight to the bedroom, secretly loving how desperate a simple had made you, before pushing you into the wall and claiming your lips with hers. It was lustful and needy as if neither of you needed oxygen to breathe. Emily's right hand crept up your body until it made its way to its rightful place, your throat. Now with the gentle squeeze of her hand you were begging her to take you already. The nerd becoming unbearable for you. And Emily wasn't handling the need any better than you.

Clothing was torn from eachothers body before Emily gently lifted you so you could wrap your legs around her waist all while never losing your lips. A squeak of surprise flooded the room when your back hit the mattress, "Emily! Oh my gosh" you gasped, "what's got into you?" Perhaps it was a rhetorical question but she answered you anyway with a nip to the base of your throat, "you and that damn hat." You couldn't help but smirk, a harmless silly thing had turned her this needy for you.

Any reply you may have had died on your tongue as you felt her mouth creeping lower and lower until she met your needy cunt. By now your wetness was seeping onto the sheets, "god I need more" you whined impatiently, moving your hands to her hat to hold her in place. Emily was always talented in ever aspect of life, but the way she would plunge her tongue into your tight little hole and curl it just right was enough to drive you insane, but then when she would add two fingers and move her mouth to your aching bundle of nerves you honestly saw the stars. If there was one thing Emily prides herself on is how well you scream her name as she fucks you with her tongue. In fact she swears that she would spend forever between your thighs and die a happy woman.  Yet when your tugging her up for a break from the overwhelming sensations she still feels a little glee at what she planned to come next.

A few sweet kisses and some soft praises found you straddling her lap, the new strap on pressing against your soaking slit. "Please daddy" you whimpered only to be met with a shake of her head. "Nahuh angel, you're gonna ride my cock like a good cowgirl for me" she purred in your ear before helping swivel you around to face her legs. Then the hat was settled on your had before she finally slipped into your awaiting core. "Oh fuck yes so good, so big daddy fuck" you mewled as you slowly began to bounce on her cock. "God you're so fucking sexy, bend over cowgirl I wanna see how I spilt you in two."

The moment you finally bent so she could see how her faux cock moved in and out of your slippery hole she could've swore she almost lost her composure. But her patience was rewarded when soon all you were was a whiny mess hardly able to keep a rhythm. Hands gripped onto her thighs like a life line and yet you still couldn't do as you were asked to. "Such a pathetic whore for my angel, and you were being my sweet girl and yet now you can't even do what a common whore could. I'm disappointed Angel" she murmured placing her hands on your hips. A whine escaped you, "mm sorry daddy I be good girl mm sorry" you whimpered over and over until she finally took pity on you.

With a pace that was perfectly fast and rough Emily slipped out of your cunt, ignoring your whines of protest and flipped you on your hands and knees before slamming back into your needy pussy. From there on she kept a punishing pace. Her hands gripping your braids to steady herself as she attempted to burry her cock into your womb. And you came over and over for her that night until you were nothing but her little angel absolutely fucked dumb.

"Shhh sweetheart you did so good for me darling" she murmured in between kissing all over your face to distract you from her pulling out. "Such a pretty cowgirl for your daddy" was what caused you to blush like a mad woman. You knew the routine Emily would get up to get a cloth and clean the strap but you didn't want her to go. But you didn't have the brain function to do more than whine at her, trying to convey what you wanted. "Shh two seconds my love, we have to clean up then I'm all yours baby."

Two seconds was all it was, and then Emily was back in before allowing you to snuggle up on her chest as her hands threaded through your beautiful hair. "So proud of you sweet girl" she whispered not expecting you to whine and mumble "disappoint you" the clearest you could. "No angel, you're my good girl, I love you my little cowgirl, you did so well baby, now rest angel, I'm right here."

Word count 1880

[earthtoharlow]

Don’t Like The Lights

Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand. 

Series Masterlist

1. Jungle

Don't know where we stand, I used to hit you 'bout everything. Are we still good? Are we still good?

Maryse let out a nervous sigh as she fluffed her hair in the mirror. The air was thick with anticipation and slight nostalgia. Tonight was the Grammys and she was nominated for Best R&B Song and Best R&B Album, to say she was nervous was an understatement.

Tonight also marked the anniversary of the day Jack and her met for the first time…or rather the anniversary of when he saved her from falling on her face in front of everyone. Maryse couldn’t help but still long for Jack, who was and will probably always be her greatest muse.

She hadn’t heard or seen Jack since the night he left her house. He had even been silent on social media so she couldn’t even stalk him if she wanted to. Maryse’s thoughts were cut short when her manager, CoCo, spoke up from the door behind her.

“You ready? The car is outside.”

Maryse looked at herself in the mirror one more time, and noticed the missing spark from her eyes. She closed her eyes and made another silent promise to herself that she would one day reignite that spark, to find happiness and fulfillment once more, whether with Jack or on her own.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

***

Jack strode confidently down the red carpet with PG. Despite the flurry of activity around him, he remained focused on the task at hand, his mind consumed with thoughts of the upcoming awards ceremony.

His stride came to a halt when an interviewer called out to him, their words causing him to pause in his tracks. “Hey, Jack, did you hear? Maryse mentioned she’s rooting for you to win tonight,” the interviewer exclaimed, a hint of excitement evident in their voice.

Jack’s initial stoic demeanor softened at his words, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before being replaced by a subtle warmth. Turning towards the interviewer, he offered a grateful nod, his gratitude evident in his face.

“Really? That means a lot,” he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of appreciation and sincerity. Despite the way they ended, Jack couldn’t deny the swell of pride that washed over him at the knowledge that Maryse still held him in such high regard. “I’m rooting for her as well.”

As Jack made his way inside, his thoughts drifted back to a year ago when he crossed paths with Maryse for the first time. The memory of them first locking eyes as he helped her up the stairs to get her award tugged at his heartstrings and their history started to weigh heavy on his shoulders as he saw the very stages he climbed to “save her.”

Glancing around the venue from his seat, he immediately noticed the familiar silhouette of Maryse, he couldn’t miss those curls even if he wanted to. In that moment, he silently wished she would turn her head and meet his gaze. Jack was sure he would always yearn for her.

He didn’t realize how hard it was going to be seeing Maryse again. For months he wanted to reach out but he didn’t want to reopen old wounds. Jack’s gaze remained on Maryse as he watched her mingle with the celebrities at her table, her laughter could be heard from across the room.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of insecurity creeping into his thoughts as he watched her. Was Maryse feeling the same way he did, he wondered, her demeanor showed no hint of being as heartbroken as he was. Did she realize what today meant? Jack continued these thoughts as the award show started, but as he watched Maryse, the distance between them seemed to stretch further, and it drove him crazy.

***

Maryse's heart pounded in her chest as the announcer listed off the nominees for Best R&B Album. She gave a nervous smile to the camera when her name and album was mentioned. She closed her eyes, and grabbed a hold of CoCo’s hand who squeezed it in support.

“And the Grammy goes to…”-Ugh, Those Feelings Again, Maryse Monet!”

Maryse gasped in her seat, eyes wide with tears of joy streaming down her face. She stood up and gave CoCo a hug and thanked her in her ear. As she was making her way up the aisle, Doja stopped her and quickly pulled her into a tight embrace, and congratulated her.

She made sure to take the steps one foot at a time so that she didn’t have a repeat of last year. With a wistful smile, Maryse spoke into the microphone, her voice carrying across the hushed auditorium. “You know, I was a little worried I might trip on my way up here again,” she quipped, drawing a chuckle from the audience. “But thankfully, I made it in one piece this time!”

As the laughter subsided, Maryse took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “But in all seriousness, I want to express my deepest gratitude to everyone who has been a part of this incredible journey,” she continued, her voice tinged with sincerity. “From the amazing team who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this album a reality, to the fans who have supported me every step of the way – this Grammy belongs to all of you.”

Maryse took a pause, and her eyes shifted towards Jack in the crowd. “And to the person who has been my biggest inspiration and my greatest supporter,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “Thank you for believing in me, for pushing me to be the best version of myself, and for sharing your incredible talent and creativity with me. This album would not have been possible without you, and I am forever grateful for the love and the music we have shared.”

With that, Maryse raised the Grammy high above her head. Her heart was overflowing with love and joy. She knew that no matter what the future held, Jack was always going to be her muse.

As Maryse delivered her speech, Jack's eyes fixed her with a mix of pride, love and disbelief. As he watched her bask in the spotlight, her talent and dedication recognized by the industry, any lingering feelings of envy or regret faded into the background.

When she mentioned her muse his heart skipped a beat, and a lump formed in his throat. Despite not saying his name, he knew, deep down, that she was referring to him.

In that moment, Jack realized that Maryse’s victory was their victory, her success brought him a sense of fulfillment and validation that surpassed any accolades or awards he could have received himself.

Tears welled up in Jack’s eyes as he listened to her words, overcome by the unexpectedness of her acknowledgment and the flood of emotions it stirred within him.

Even though he had braced himself for the evening, he didn’t expect the intensity of his feelings upon hearing her speech. As Maryse left the stage he knew in the back of his mind that they would get back together again sooner rather than later. He would make sure of it.

LIFEOFMONET

liked by urbanwyatt, chloebailey, druski, choycebrown, torikelly, jackharlow, saweetie, dojacat and 678,086 others

lifeofmonet: Big hair, two toned lips, and my fav glasses…I was looking real cute before my tears ruined my makeup!

view all 9,467 comments

user: omg that dress!!

user: CONGRATULATIONS!!!

user: anyone catch how she thanked Jack?

saweetie: so proud of you ❤️

urbanwyatt: 🔥🔥🔥🔥

***

Maryse got comfortable in her bed and pulled out her headphones. She was busy all day in the studio when she caught news that Jack had surprise dropped an album. She couldn’t help but notice how buff he looked on the cover, Maryse had to shake her head at the thoughts that popped up in her head before pressing play on the album.

She closed her eyes as the beats filled the room, she loved how honest he got with each track. Maryse couldn’t help but feel guilt when Denver started playing, wishing she had known the depth of how he was feeling at the time. She was sure that the added weight of her hesitation to move in with him added to the stress he was already facing.

Perhaps if she had opened up sooner, they could have faced those challenges together, instead of allowing her doubts to drive them apart. Regret washed over her as Maryse realized the impact of her actions, and she vowed to learn from her mistakes. These past few months apart helped her realize that she needed to be more open, more honest, and more willing to confront her fears, not just for her own sake, but for the sake of her love for Jack.

***

Maryse rushed through the lobby of the recording studio in Kentucky, she was there to record a song with Bryson and because of traffic she was running late. Having never been to that particular studio before Maryse hurriedly asked the person at the front desk where his studio room was located, as she waited for the front desk to look it up, she heard a familiar laugh. Maryse turned to her left and there stood Jack engrossed in conversation with Urban and Bryson.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. Just as she considered slipping back out unnoticed, their eyes met, and time seemed to freeze for a heartbeat. Jack’s expression mirrored her surprise, his eyes widening, before a flicker of something else passed through them.

Maryse walked towards the group, giving Bryson and Urban a hug first. “Hey,” Maryse finally said, breaking the silence as she offered Jack a small smile.

Jack returned the smile, his features softening. “Hey,” he replied, his voice warm but with a hint of hesitation.

The air began to fill with awkwardness as they stared at each other.

“Hey, Urb can you come help me with that thing?” Bryson said, turning towards Urban. “What thing?” Urban asked him, confused.

Bryson punched Urban in the arm and gave him a pointed look. “That thing that just suddenly came up. So come on!” and dragged Urban away but not before telling Maryse that he’d see her in the studio.

Jack stood there with a sigh and his checks turned red slightly from embarrassment. All Maryse could do was smile.

“Sorry about them.” Jack apologized running a hand through her messy curls, Maryse couldn’t help but notice he was letting it grow out, a bit unkempt compared to how she remembered.

“You’ve let your curls run wild,” Maryse remarked with a gentle smile, her tone teasing yet filled with fondness.

Jack chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. “Yeah, I've been too caught up with everything to keep up with them,” he admitted, running another hand through his tousled hair.

The familiarity of their banter brought a sense of comfort to the both of them. Happy that despite the time apart some things remained unchanged between them.

With a bittersweet smile, Jack stepped closer to her. “Congratulations on the Grammy, by the way.” he said, his voice genuine. “You deserve it.”

Maryse returned the smile, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her despite the lingering tension between them. “Thank you,” she replied softly. “And congrats on your album too. I listened to it, and… it’s really good.”

There was a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as he nodded. “Thanks,” he murmured, a hint of emotion in his voice. “Means a lot coming from you.”

It became quiet again before Maryse spoke up. “I wouldn’t have come to the studio if I knew you were going to be here,” Maryse confessed, her tone filled with uncertainty.

“Why not?” Jack questioned, his gaze searching hers.

“Because I didn’t know if you would want to see me,” she admitted softly, her words heavy with the weight of their past.

“There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t want to see you,” Jack confessed, his voice vulnerable yet sincere.

Tears welled up in Maryse's eyes as she heard his words, a mix of sadness and longing washing over her.

Maryse nods and starts walking backwards, “Well, I’m going to go. I don’t want to keep Bryson waiting any longer.” She turns around and quickly walks down the long hallway, she had no idea where she was going but she needed to escape. Just as she was about to disappear from view, she heard Jack calling out her name. Her heart skipped a beat, and she hesitated for a moment before slowly turning around to face him.

Jack stood there, looking at her with hope in his eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, almost as if he still couldn’t believe she was really there. “How long are you gonna be in town?”

Maryse swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. “Just a couple of days,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, his words hanging in the air between them. “Would you… would you want to hang out? Maybe we could actually talk.” His tone was nervous, as if he was afraid of her answer.

She met his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions flood over her. Despite everything that had happened between them, she couldn’t deny the longing she felt to spend time with him again. With a nod, she managed to reply, “I’d love that.”

***

an: aaaaaand we back!!!

Tag List:

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[areadersuncertaintyprinciple]

Even tho I'm sad that they had to cut so many of the 'stuff' from the webnovel(iykyk) but TELL ME HOW TO HATE YOU TELL ME HOW TO NOT LOVE YOU?!!! Gimme more sire

I almost dropped this show coz of the tonal whiplash that ep6 gave me- Sunday retreat was meh. Yet I loved this episode despite its logical fallacy (Idea for next date: please don't make a patient walk so much and climb a fricking skyscraper😊). I never expected logic from this drama from day1 tbh & despite that there's something in this whole mess that makes me want to prolong my suspension of disbelief every week. Even they leave plot threads weirdly dangling, I still eat up whatever they serve 😂. It's a delicious blend of CLASSIC TROPES with a healthy dose of whatthefuckery.

I wanted the teasing, cat-&-mouse game to go on longer where Saeon frustrates the heck out of Heejoo but then I remembered that it's a 12ep show & we r already past the halfway mark. Sad lol. The editing on this episode also felt tighter compared to the last.

I love Yoo Yeon-seok & it amuses me that he's now going viral for his 'sexy image'🤣 coz I've known for yrs that man's looker & an actor to match that! Oof.

I had wished his last few works coz I wasn't into them,so, I was anxious whether he still works onscreen for me coz I thought the trailer looked badish in a goodish way(Surprise- HE DOES).

Chae Soobin & He do the heavylifting day in & day out on this show but hat's off to the direction too. I have always liked his choice of focusing on Saeon's wedding ring and I liked how that was focused even today. And that Kiss? Dramaland, Cinemaland, etc-land writers...now this is what we call a kiss-after-years-of-yearning. An onscreen kiss is rarely meant to replicate real life kissing, rather, its job is to look "good" on camera while showcasing the apt emotions/script. And Yeonseok+Soobin nailed it

[genesiseven]

𝑭𝑺𝑴 ✩ 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝒀 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥕᥲrᥒ . Jealousy, pure fluff, implied fem bodied reader, mentions of feminine ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ nicknames (my lady, etc), slightly ooc pantalone and childe? Mentions diluc ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Yanqing and childe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsᥙm . When the both of you are on a date and your friend happens to accidentally ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ bump into you and all of your attention turns to them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥴһᥲr . Jing Yuan, Kaeya, Pantalone.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᥕord coᥙᥒt . 1,981

𝐈 ✩ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍

It came as a surprise when jingyuan had told you he had called off work for you, this was due to his feeling of you feeling lonely, and unloved.

A day made special just for the both of you, an entire day spent together, roaming around mindlessly, laughing in each other's embrace. It was a stress reliever for him, smiling and laughing till tears came rolling upon his eyes.

As the both of you walked to the restaurant where he had a spot specially reserved for you and him, a friend happened to spot you. Calling out and running to your presence, which successfully made you avert your gaze and attention to your friend, which was Yanqing.

What felt like hours were only a few minutes of talking, enough for jing yuan to glare at Yanqing, hoping it would be enough to make him leave. But all attempts came to no avail.

While he hadn't had the courage to speak due to you looking happier than ever, he wanted time alone with you, for it has been weeks since he has a proper conversation with you.

It took him awhile to build up confidence in order to confront you and him.

"I apologise yanqing but me and my beloved have places to be, I'd highly appreciate if you two would talk after. Would that be alright for you and Yanqing?" He turned to look at you, with the usual calm smile. Hoping you would agree with him. You blinked wide eyed, remembering that the both of you had a date "ah, yes, Me and my darling have a date together!, We may talk another time Yanqing, it was of great pleasure to talk with you." "Oh of course, I shall see you another time then (y/n)!, I gotta say general is a lucky guy to have a pretty lady such as you" he teased for fun, it was a harmless joke, with a shit-eating grin, he left in a hurry before the calmly annoyed could do anything. You chuckled at his jealousy "what, can't handle a few minutes of me talking with my friend?" "Those 'few minutes' felt like three hours.." he mumbled under his breath, loud enough for you to hear. "I suppose we should go, before someone else takes our spot yea?" "Of course my dear."

Safe to say, you made sure to tease jing yuan of the incident that night.

𝐈𝐈 ✩ 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀

There the favonius Calvary captain stood, with luxurious clothing adorning and flattering his body, the clothing of fine material shipped from nation to nation. Clothings he only wore on special occasions.

Today, was that special occasion.

A two month vacation off, to be spent with you, his darling, giving him and you undivided attention that the both yearned for since the moment of your relationship. Due to him being loaded with work, affection was less, since he came back tired and sleepy. Which you didn't mind, as long his pretty sleeping face kept you company, you didn't mind. But at times, you need his affection, his loving slick words, to come down and shower your longing soul with the happiness it begs. This he knew of, very well. He wanted to shower you with his grace, his undying love and his embrace, and these two months are gonna be just that.

The day after his vacation began, he had reserved a special location, a beautiful restaurant filled with loving flowers which bloomed and hit everyone with its alluring aroma, the special date places being filled with just the right amount of greenery. A candle at both sides, plates and utensils placed perfectly, with a beautiful, two roses, one light pink, the other red, in a glass. Hugged by each other's thorns and petals.

As he and you walked to the restaurant, a certain red hair happened to bump into the both of you. Apologising, not having the knowledge who it was until his eyes fell upon the two figures. "Ah, kaeya, y/n. A surprise meeting the two of you. What brings you to this restaurant?" He asked, having no intention of getting in between your date. While he did hate chit-chats, he wouldn't mind them on occasions, for today, he was having a surprisingly good day "oh nothing much brother, just treating my lady to a date." He said, his tone teasing as ever. Enough to fluster you "oh shut up" you spoke out of embarrassment.

Soon, both Diluc, you and kaeya had sat down, kaeya looking out the window, arms folded and his leg sitting on his knee. His eyebrows furrowed, annoyed. The small chit-chat had turned to a long convo of who knows what topic, he didn't care for it. All he wanted was to treat you to a long awaited date and now his brother had come in and swooped all you attention from him.

It was soon, well, later, til you realised that the date you had was late as the waiter came to your table, asking for if you would like a glass of water. "Oh no, it's okay sir! I apologise diluc, we could continue this conversation another time hm? I have a date to attend." "Oh of course (name), I apologise if I have made the two of you late." He quickly said, looking at kaeya, who had a scowl resting on his face. He stood as soon as his ears picked up on the words the both of you said. "Yes, yes, I suppose so. See you later, brother." His tone was impatient and annoyed as his eyes looked down upon diluc's.

As you bid goodbyes, kaeya walked you to the elevator, by which was graced by the god's to have no people inside of it. It was gonna be a long ride, since the place he had reserved stood at the very top, where the both of you can gaze the morning sky together. As the doors closed, his hands tugged at your waist, pulling you closer, you looked at him, confuse and naive to kaeya's sad yet calm face "you ought to give me kisses this night." He said, kissing your face and neck with his soft lips. "Awh what did I doo" you moaned, with a smile he oh-so-adores "oh don't act foolish now, you totally just forgot we had a date." He said with a slick and calming voice, not scolding or mad. Simply and slightly upset. "Oh dearie, you know i didn't mean thattt, I got carried away in the conversation, which is, by no means, an excuse, I will be sure to never make the same mistake hm?" Your arms hung loosely around his shoulders, your eyes dreamy and dazed as you took in his prettiness, kissing him. As the kiss broke, you spoke, still dreamy "I can't believe I will have you all for myself for two whole months.." kaeya chuckled as he cupped your face. "Someone clearly can't get enough of me today hm?" "Kaeyaa, don't ruin the moment!"

By the time kaeya could get another word out, the both had reached their destination. "Well that was a short ride." He said, stepping out the elevator. He kneeled half way, taking your hand and bowing "shall we, m'lady?" You let out a chuckle, with a response "of course, gentleman."

𝐈𝐈𝐈 ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

A head rested gently against pantalone's shoulder, eyes closed and a small smile flattering the woman's, his girlfriend, face. Dressed in fine white silk, and jewellery brought by the ever-loving pantalone, laid perfectly on your body. Your hands and body leaned against him, as his arm was wrapped around you, ensuring you got the warmth in the cold car. Which you purposely made cold by turning on the AC, just to use the excuse of being close to your lover.

It was no surprise he had understood this, after all, he is the mighty and intelligent harbinger of the fatuus. The calm and loving moment was cut short as the driver announced you had reached the desired destination. To which pantalone immediately walked out the car, just to come to your side of the car, to graciously open the car door and take your hand to escort you to the palace like dining restaurant. You took his hand in offer, leaving the car and thanking the fatuus driver, as the both of you were walking into the restaurant, you spoke in a gentle soft voice he loved "oh pantalone, how many times must I tell you that you mustn't spoil me with your riches" he had heard these same words several times throughout his relationship with you, chuckling, he responded "my beloved wife shall only have the finest places snezhnaya can offer." He said in his usual velvety voice, used only around you. The little nickname he had used in his nickname had made you blush, little reds creeping up your cheeks. Noticing this, pantalone took up the chance to tease, which was interrupted by someone.. "Regrator! What are you doing here at a time like this?" Annoyed as he understood the voice of the person, who was, his colleague, childe… he spoke in a rather uninterested tone "Just taking my fine lady out for a dinner, I shall be asking the same question for you, tartaglia." His eyes fell upon childe's, which was looking at you, not in a romantic way, but as friend he has known way. "Oh just meeting a friend" not interested in a chit chat, he hadn't responded, but you had. "Oh childe, how must your family be doing? Are they doing fine?" You questioned, "they are quite fine actually, unfortunately I have heard teucer had a little accident while playing, but he will be fine in no time." He responded in the enthusiast tone pantalone hated so much. "That is relieving to hear, I believe we do not have the time to spare for a little chit-chat, would that be right dear?" Pantalone spoke, interrupting your talk, "ah yes, I'm sorry childe but I shall get going, we have a little date here" you giggled, your arms around pantalone's in a married like fashion. "Of course of course, by all means, have fun. I will be going too as well, see you sometime later (name)!" Childe said, waving a bye as he ran out the restaurant in a hurry.

At the hearing of your name slipping out childe's mouth was enough to make him groan, annoyed and dissatisfied. It was only after pantalone had came out from the register, you had teased pantalone about his annoyed face. "Someone's jealous" pantalone rolled his eyes in a playful manner as the both of you stepped into the elevator "I wouldn't say jealous would be the right word.." pantalone grumbled. "Oh then what would be, greedy of his possesion?" You chuckled out, pantalone smirked, the smirk you knew and hated, knowing that he's about to do something to you "pantalone, wait!- wait! No that tickles!" You said as you broke into a fit of giggles and laughter, the moment he stopped, he had kissed you with a sigh. "I feel as if I'm in debt to the Gods for gifting me with a such a gem like you." He sighed out "I feel too that i was blessed with such a wonderful loving husband like you" you said hugging him, as the nickname rolled out your tongue so perfectly.

This he noticed, blushing slightly, he looked away. Murmering loud enough for you to hear "I prefer if you'd call me that again." You slapped him lightly on the chest playfully "oh shut up, husband" he chuckled as he lead you to the single table, with two chairs. And a starry night with the moon sharing it's rays with the couple as the both sat down, enjoying the cold yet warm night.

Tags: @mikacynth @kaelily heheh kaeya simps

This is my first fic so pls don't be mean lmao, headers belong to me and are made by me :) art is from the genshin manga website and some are from in game!!

copyright © @gensiseven | all works belong to @gensiseven, do not steal, plagiarise, copy, post to other social media without the consent of the original author.

[toxicanonymity]

Woke up trying to be productive today but my brain is like "no, we will only think about raider!joel today <3". So that's how my day is going.

Could we maybe get a nsfw alphabet with raider!joel (or literally any/all of them 'cause I'm obsessed)? Or maybe some similar hcs?

Thank you for being that into raider!Joel! 🤍 I Included the few I did elsewhere. . .you asked first but the other one was easier lol. Did these pretty quick, might expand later. NSFW 18+ Misc

A = Aftercare - Will say you did good, help you get dressed. Calls you sweet pea / baby. These twisted moments of affection, combined with your orgasm hormones, bond you further to him. Messed up.

B = Body part - Loves to parade his raging erection.

C = Cum - Won't warn you. Typical load is 7-10 mL in 7-8 spurts. Has a vasectomy. May come on you or in you.

D = Dirty secret - IDK if he has any shame that would lend itself to having secrets. Maybe the fact that he was a father. He's buried his old life way down deep.

E = Experience - Expert and very smooth operator.

F = Favorite position - Gets off on making you choose. Otherwise, depends on the setting and situation. Does he need to show you off/possess you? Does he need to dominate you?

G = Goofy - He has sick ways of amusing himself and having fun. Like making someone jack off for their life. The first time he fucked you he made a depraved joke right after it. Very dark sense of humor.

H = Hair - Ungroomed, mostly black.

I = Intimacy - Not romantic or intimate but will praise you. And his possessiveness (ex: holding you tight at night, protecting you) could be mistaken for intimacy. It's not that he puts it on fakely - he's kinda treating you like a kitten.

J = Jack off - Before he met you, on a raid he might have jacked off then come on someone.

K = Kink  - Major exhibitionist.  Had a good time cucking Jack, might try it again sometime. Likes how you look tied up (for your own good). Dacryphilia.

L = Location - Dirty mattress since day 1. But anywhere. May get off on making you choose this too.

M = Motivation - His own dominance turns him on. Including when you're vulnerable/pitiful.

N = No - Not a good guy.

O = Oral - He's good at it even if he's not trying to be (like erasing someone's touch). And yeah he does like his cock sucked, might fuck your face. Ultimate dominance.

P = Pace - He's concerned more with power than pace. Moderate pace but adjusts to whatever suits him in the moment.

Q = Quickie - Any time, anywhere

R = Risk - He's a walking risk. Idk if it would even occur to him whether something might be risky. He's so self-assured.

S = Stamina - Very high stamina.

T = Toys - Not unless you count restraints/blindfold. This is post-outbreak.

U = Unfair - Doesn't want you to come if you haven't been a good girl.

V = Volume - Moderate by default but as loud as he needs to be (depending on the setting) if he's showing his dominance or possessing you. Sometimes quiet just for BDE effect like when he fucked you in the van.

W = Wild card - He's like sugarcoated poison. He calls you pet names, praises you, but he's just vile and depraved. Has a gentle touch but also manhandles you and gets rough. And he'll get turned on at the most offensive times.

X = X-ray - 20 cm (8”). Proportional girth.  Middle is slightly thicker.  Kind of duo-toned, pink and tanner pink, tip is pink. Grower.  Balls on the larger side.  Relatively veiny. 

Y = Yearning - Very high. He fucked you three times within a few hours the day he took you.

Z = Zzz - Falls asleep very quickly if he wants to.

-

RAIDER JOEL MASTER LIST

Master List: TLOU - Joel Miller

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime   @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda

[callsignspark]

Mar[r]y Me - part 8.5.2

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, like soooo much flirting, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 3.6k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday! I hope everyone had lovely holidays and 2024 is going well for you so far! I did have some issues tagging people so apologizes if you didn't notified! I really loved writing this chapter, especially since it's going to help set the stage for the rest of the story! (only 4 more parts to go! isn't that crazy??) please be safe if you have snow coming towards you this weekend, and enjoy these two pining and yearning for each other more than ever.

part 8.5.2 - rambling and rings

Friday, April 16, 2021

Mary waves at the obnoxiously large SUV as Slider honks and drives away. Leaning against the entryway table, she slips her heels off and wiggles her painted toes at the feeling of the soft runner beneath her feet. Shuffling over to the entertainment console, she hums as she connects her phone, choosing the song that was on in the car.

The dreamy guitar intro floats through the air, making her smile. And the last beams of golden sunshine disappear as she dances through the living room, enjoying the peaceful feeling that’s settled in her chest and closing the blinds in between twirls.

Good things are happening at work, rumbles that there’s a promotion coming on the horizon. The monthly call back home to her parents hadn’t ended in tears for the first time in months. Most of her evenings are spent in the company of at least one Dagger family member, helping Kris and Dani with their kids or enjoying the adult-only life with Aaron and Flora. Bradley is messaging her as often as he can, every email making her heart flutter, increasing her joy with every sentence he types.

Everything is coming together in ways she had never even dared to dream about.

An early dinner with Ron, Mav, and Penny was the cherry on top of a great week. The four of them laughing and telling stories the entire time, taking advantage of the warm spring weather at the patio table Pete had reserved for Slider’s birthday. As stories and photos were traded across the table, Mary felt like her heart could burst learning about baby Bradley. The only quiet moment of the evening was when their waiter brought an unordered round of drinks to the table, prompting the men to venture inside and thank the old Navy buddy that had spotted them through the window.

“Thank you, Matt; it was getting just a tiny bit too windy for us.”

“No problem, ma’am.” The young man smiles over his shoulder as he finishes turning the outdoor heater on. “Can I get you ladies anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now, thank you,” Penny answers, glancing at Mary, softening at the sight of the younger woman lost in thought as she stares out at the ocean with a content smile.

She watches as brown eyes drift from the water to the table, gentle fingers tracing over a copy of a photo that’s older than the girl studying it. Penny stays quiet, letting the sound of waves crashing on the sand accompany the slight furrow that creases Mary’s brow as she brings the photo closer to her face.

“He looks just like his dad, doesn’t he?”

“He does; he acts a lot like him, too, more than he realizes.”

“You knew him?” It’s not a surprised reaction, just curious.

Penny hums, “We weren’t close, but I knew him enough to see how much Bradley has turned out like him. He’s a good blend of both his parents.”

“Did you know Carole very well?”

“More than Nick, by default, but for the most part, we were at different stages in life. She was older than me by a few years. I was in college and she was a widow raising a toddler. But, as you know, the aviator community is pretty small, so we were friendly. I would even babysit Bradley sometimes when the guys were deployed.”

“He was a cute baby,” Mary says softly, eyes back on the last photo taken of the whole Bradshaw family.

“He was… turned out to be a handsome man, didn’t he?” Penny asks, taking advantage of the moment.

She smirks as the younger woman looks up at her through her lashes, a shy smile stretching her pink cheeks. “He did.”

“Can I ask you something while they’re still inside?”

“We’re not together. But we are going on a date the week after he gets back.” Now it’s Mary’s turn to smirk at how Penny’s eyebrows rocket up to her hairline. “That is what you were going to ask me, right?”

“It’s close enough. Are you excited?”

“I am. I really like him.”

It’s the first time she admitted it out loud to anyone other than her best friend. She revels in the encouraging energy and words Penny gives back, both of them still giggling like school girls when Pete and Ron return.

“What are you two laughing about?” Slider asks as he slips Mary’s wrap over her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing.” When Penny winks, she has the overwhelming urge to cry. The knowing look accompanying those two words is more affectionate and maternal than anything her mother has done in years.

Their hug goodbye lasts a few seconds longer than expected, and the gentle hands that smooth some stray hairs back make her throat tighten. Slider is quiet on the ride home; familiar with the many moods of Mary, he lets her work through her thoughts with the radio on low.

“Y’okay, kid?” He doesn’t speak until he pulls into her neighborhood, giving himself a five-block buffer to determine if a pit stop to the closest ice cream shop is required.

“Yeah. Just-” Mary pauses, trying to figure out how to best explain. “Just still getting used to it.”

“To what?”

“To how easy it is to just be me out here. Surrounded by people who have just folded me into their lives with zero hesitation, like I’ve always been here.”

“Mary, were you happy in Florida?”

“I was content. Getting to know you helped with that a lot, but let’s face it; if I was happy, I wouldn’t have been so excited to leave.”

“And you’re happy now?”

“I am. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

It's a cheesy line, but true. She knew that when she said it, accepting the light teasing that followed with a smile. One that hadn’t left her face as she said goodbye to her mentor, one that grows as the song starts again. She can’t help how big her grin gets. This song always reminds her of Bradley.

“I'm in love, I'm alive. I belong to the stars and sky.”

Letting the song stay on repeat, Mary stops in the kitchen for some water on her way to the bedroom. It’s still early - not even eight yet - but a full night’s sleep is calling her name, eyelids feeling heavy.

She slips her clothes off, folding the jeans for tomorrow and tossing her shirt in the laundry. A small groan of relief accompanies the unclasping of her bra before she slings it into the hamper. Turning the bedroom speakers down slightly as she enters the bathroom, a grimace instantly creases her face when she catches sight of herself in the mirror.

“Jesus…” Her disbelief echoes in the room as gentle fingers rub over the harsh red lines where her clothes dug into her skin. It’s evident where the waistband of her jeans sat all day. And the tender spots under her arms lets her know it’s time to look for better-fitting bras, again. Mary tugs the leg of her panties up, relieved to see at least one piece of clothing hasn’t left its mark.

She’s massaging the sore spots on her chest, letting her warm hands diminish the pain, when her phone rings. Her eyebrows furrow deeper at the unknown number flashing across the screen.

Usually, at this time of night, she’d ignore an unknown number and let the other person leave a voicemail, but something in her gut tells her to pick up before it’s too late.

“Hello?” There’s a muffled response, and she scrambles to disconnect her phone from the speakers. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Hello, ma’am. Can I speak to Mariella Vertucci?”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Lieutenant Corso in the communications bay on the USS Roosevelt. Can you confirm your identity with your full name, birthday, and the eight-digit code given to you by Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

Mary’s heart stops for a second. This is it. Bradley is calling. She’s going to get to talk to him after forty-eight days. Hear his voice. See his face.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry. Mariella Theresa Vertucci, born March 14, 1987. The code is 0125-2020.”

“Thank you, ma’am. One minute, please.” The soft clacking of a keyboard filters through the phone, the Lieutenant's tongue clicking as he types. “You’ve been verified. Does the phone you’re using have video chat capabilities.”

“It does, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Stay on the line, and in a few minutes, a video chat will come through with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. You have been allotted 30 minutes today. I am required to remind you that communication is not secure. This means, for security purposes, you cannot ask what time of day it is, what location, or how any missions have gone. Please confirm that you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you. I am also required to let you know that this video chat is conducted in a private area and will not be monitored. However, the audio will be recorded, so any lewd acts are discouraged but not forbidden.”

Mary can’t help the snort that escapes. “But not forbidden?”

“Uh- the uh-” She smothers a chuckle at how the kid trips over his words. “The Navy understands that loved ones are apart for long periods of time and can’t forbid any uh- urges that couples may wish to act upon during their chats. But we are legally required to inform everyone of the recording.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“No problem, ma’am. Please stay on the line, and your loved one will be joining shortly.” She giggles at how quickly the hold music starts, humming along to Anchors Aweigh as she clips her hair up, ready to take her makeup off. She’s about to wet a washcloth when the music cuts, and the video call comes through.

Taking a second to look herself over, Mary admires the tendrils that have escaped, perfectly framing her cheeks that are still flushed from the wine she had with dinner. The slightest bit still tipsy and a little frazzled about Bradley, she realizes just in time that she’s still only in her underwear, hitting the accept button and dropping the phone on the counter.

“One second! Just- oh, come on! Fuck!” She curses under her breath as she struggles to slip into her bathrobe. “Hang on, Bradley!”

Finally getting both arms in, she ties the robe, eyebrows raising in surprise at how it cinches her waist, before eagerly grabbing her phone.

“Hi, Mary.”

“Hi, Bradley.”

She greedily drinks him in. It’s been 48 days since she’s seen his handsome face or heard his warm voice - the longest since they met - and she’s missed him. Her heart clenches at how tired he looks, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever.

“Hi, honey.” The sweet name hits something deep inside, and she can’t help the tears that immediately form or the way her bottom lip wobbles. “Oh, shit, Mary. Please don’t cry, honey.”

The emotional reaction surprises even her; she was expecting to be a bit overwhelmed, but nothing like this. It makes her feel a little ridiculous, crying about a man she’s barely even kissed. But you love him, her brain chimes in, sending more heat to her face.

“This is your uncle’s fault!” She laughs, swiping tears away and propping her phone against the mirror.

“Mav?”

She can’t help but giggle at his disbelieving tone as she reaches for a tissue. “No, Slider. He’s in town this week, and he may or may not - but definitely did - get me tipsy at dinner, like he always does!”

She trills on about dinner, telling him about the childhood stories that were shared and the baby photos that now live on her phone, not noticing the look on his face until he interrupts.

“You getting in the shower, Mary?”

The husky tone immediately grabs all of her attention, a shiver running down her spine at the smoldering look on Bradley’s face. She follows his eyes down, surprised to see how much her robe has come undone. The valley between her breasts is completely visible, and the fabric is threatening to expose her belly button - and more - if it’s not fixed.

“Oops…” She mumbles to herself, tightening the robe so much it pushes her cleavage together.

Normally, this is where her insecurities would ruin the moment - flooding her brain with terrible things. Make her spend the rest of the call analyzing how she looks in the tiny corner box, agonizing how prominent her double chin is from this angle. But the soft fuck that crackles through the phone squashes the anxieties before they can take root, shifting her attention to admire the man looking back at her.

And god, he is a man.

Bradley Bradshaw has always been gorgeous: tall, strong, and deliciously tan. But mid-deployment Bradley Bradshaw is a vicious attack to the senses. And the hormones.

His broad shoulders have gotten broader, filling the little privacy cubicle in the communications room so much that he’s brushing both sides of the walls. His curls are more golden than usual, clear evidence of time spent flying in the Pacific tropics. His tan is deeper, too, glowing even in the harsh florescent lighting, the bridge of his nose slightly sunburnt. His neatly trimmed mustache moves with his lush pink lips, warmth building in her core as her thoughts drift to the memory of how they felt pressed against hers.

“Mary?” She hums, eyes focusing back into the present and away from her favorite post-deployment reunion fantasy. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You.”

It's clear he wasn’t expecting that answer from the way he drags a hand over his mouth to muffle a cruse, his eyes scrunching shut.

She wasn’t expecting it either; the effects of the wine have mostly worn off, leaving her with flushed cheeks and apparently a slightly looser tongue. She can’t bring herself to be embarrassed about the overly honest answer. Communicating exclusively via email for the last month and a half has allowed Mary to gain confidence in Bradley’s feelings. It’s hard to wonder about his intentions when every email ends with him telling her how many days are left until he’s home.

“Your lips…” She continues, emboldened as the last remnants of wine soften the sharp edges of her insecurities and the pink working its way up his neck. She loves how easily Bradley blushes for her. Their few kisses have always ended with his cheeks a lovely, rosy shade. “How soft your hair is. Your mustache. How strong you are. How much I miss you…”

The words make them both pause. It’s not an uncommon phrase, every email containing some variation of the sentiment, but hearing the words out loud makes it real. Cementing the longing in their chests.

“I miss you, too.” The words are quiet, echoing against the tiled walls. She chuckles, throat thick with emotion, and Bradley can’t look away from her soft smile. His heart pounding at the emotion on her face, something he can’t quite place. He can’t stop staring as she picks the phone up and flicks the light off, “Where are we going?”

“Couch.”

He smiles as the familiar walls of her living room appear, grin going slack when she props him up on the side table, and the slit of her robe reveals a thigh that he’s dreamt about as she shuffles pillows. Bradley manages to pull his mind out of his post-deployment fantasy as she plops on her couch - that damn pink couch - and smiles at him over the arm, her eyes almost closing she grins so hard.

“I’m sorry I missed our call.”

“It’s okay, Bradley. I knew it was a possibility, and Mav let me know what was going on. I understand.”

“I want to hear about your birthday.”

“I told you about my birthday! We’ve discussed it extensively.”

“I still want to hear about it. I want to hear your voice.” He revels as she softly whines and smooshes her face into a pillow, thrilled to cause that reaction. “C’mon, please, Mary?”

“You’re not fighting fair.” The muffled complaint comes back, making him laugh, but she does as asked.

Bradley listens, humming along as she recounts her birthday for him and insisting for the hundredth time that it was his pleasure to give her presents. He lets her lead the conversation as it shifts to what’s happening in San Diego, content to watch her as she shares stories of what he’s missing at home. Happy to just admire her and occasionally ask questions.

It’s so easy to get lost looking at her. Dark hair swishing around her shoulders, just slightly shorter than it was in February. Her brown eyes look darker than usual, the low light in the room making them almost black instead of the warm brown he’s used to staring into. And despite resecuring the robe, it’s coming loose again, enough that the top curve of her breasts are visible; freckles dotted all over, disappearing beneath the baby blue fabric. Bradley thinks about what it would be like to connect the dots on her soft skin, tracing invisible lines with his fingers or lips. He imagines there’s more hiding behind the waffle material. He wonders if she’d let him find out.

The fantasy of how wonderful it would be to memorize every mark on her body is interrupted as red nail polish grabs his attention. He loves her hands, smaller than his but so strong when she’s working on a jet. Steady as she calls out instructions to her team, grease smeared up to her elbows and her nail color of the week shining through the black sludge. Mary insists that she doesn’t talk with her hands, that she managed to avoid that stereotypical Italian-American trait, but Bradley smirks as her hands swirl through the air. He’s about to interrupt the story she’s giggling through - something about the latest swear word that Danielle accidentally taught Annie - when something sparkly on her finger distracts him.

A ring.

A diamond ring.

A simple silver band lined with tiny diamonds.

On her ring finger.

On her left ring finger.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to study the never-before-seen piece of jewelry. Mary must notice his confusion because she cuts her story off and flashes her hand at the camera. “I bought this for myself when I got promoted for the first time. I went from EI to EII, which is entry-level engineer to associate engineer. It was $50 from this little shop that was on the same block as my first solo apartment in St. Louis.”

Relief sweeps through his body, thrilled that Mary hadn’t gotten engaged with him.

“That’s awesome. Have you done that every time you’ve moved up?”

“Kinda? I always buy myself some sort of gift - last time, I splurged and got that big blender we used at the Christmas party. But I’ve only done jewelry a few times. I think I’m going to get a necklace next time, something to match this.” She explains, wiggling her fingers so the gems shimmer in the camera.

“It’s very pretty.” Bradley compliments, feeling bold enough to go further. “You look good with a ring on that finger.”

“Jesus, Brad-”

She’s cut off by the two-minute alert popping up. They had been so distracted they weren’t paying attention to the countdown timer.

“Already?” Mary pouts, forehead crinkling as she frowns. “But I didn’t get to ask you about carrier food.

“It’s bad, honey. Yours is so much better.”

“Or how you’re sleeping.”

“Reuben’s snoring has somehow gotten even louder since last time we shared a bunkroom; Bob, Mickey, and I owe you for the extra earplugs you sent.”

“You’re sunburnt.”

“I’m wearing the sunscreen you gave me; the sun is just strong.”

“I knew I should have sent the SPF 75!” Bradley smiles as Mary throws her head back in faux despair. “Oh well, now I know for next time, I guess.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah. You didn’t think I’d only send you a care package one time, did you? I gotta make sure you have everything you need. I know I missed some stuff this time, but I’ll get better in the future! I promise.”

I love you.

He just barely holds the words in.

“God, I fucking miss you.” He stares at the screen, watching the prettiest brown eyes in the world fill with tears at his words. “Oh, honey, please don’t cry. I’ll be home so soon.”

“But twenty-four days is such a long time, and I miss you so much.”

“I know, but we’ve already done 48 days. Twenty-four will be a breeze to get through.” The timer starts blinking, the last 60 seconds counting down. “I gotta get going, Mary. But you keep sending me flirty emails so I have something to read and think about.”

He chuckles at the little surprised noise she makes. “You noticed that?”

“Did I notice that? Mariella, in the kindest way, you are not subtle.”

“Well- I-” She splutters. “Neither are you!”

“I’m not trying to be, baby doll,” Bradley revels in her reaction to the pet name - mouth dropping open as she blinks at him, cheeks pinker than he’s ever seen - one he didn’t even mean to use.

The flustered hand she waves at the camera while yelling at him makes him laugh. “Bradley!”

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be safe. Only 24 days.”

“Only 24 days.”

“I miss you, handsome.”

Bradley's face feels hot, choked up at the look in her eyes, the softness of her words. “I miss you, too, baby doll.”

They don’t say goodbye, choosing to admire each other as the final seconds tick away.

5…

I can’t wait to see you in person.

4…

God, you’re so gorgeous.

3…

I don’t want to hang up.

2…

I miss you.

1…

I love you.

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