#usually they take months to get playlisted

[darklight-owl]

I've only known Yomiel for like 3 days but I'm so insane over him that he already has a playlist. Good job you pathetic little catboy.

(Songs under the cut)

[sergeantjessi]

.

[crimeronan]

lord ok i'm not doomed to be unable to write forever. i am however so so so sick and burnt out. i know every chronically ill person's life sucks but i feel like i'm entering an Advanced era of suckage.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes

I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.

Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.

A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.

C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.

Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.

My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.

While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.

To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?

What are these acronyms?

[propertyofwicked]

YOUR NECKLACE - LN

no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)

-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3

masterlist the playlist

after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.

the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.

“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.

“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.

“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”

“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”

“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.

the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.

lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.

“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.

“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.

“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.

“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.

“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.

“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.

she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.

that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.

but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.

“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.

“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”

she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.

“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.

his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.

oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.

the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.

"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.

"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.

“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.

"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.

"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.

“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.

“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.

“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.

“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”

“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”

“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”

“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.

“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”

“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”

liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others

landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram

comments on this post have been limited.

maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore

-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.

maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?

-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.

-> pietra.pilao omw queen.

-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can

-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx

ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3

-> landonorris nuh uh

-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs

-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident

-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.

-> landonorris you wanna bet?

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

sukuna skipping gym to sleep in and later on does his workout in their living room, using her as a weight when doing push ups, may turn heated hehe

college Sukuna's masterlist

turned this into a college!sukuna drabble lmao sorry!! no smut this time, i wanted to elaborate a bit on sukuna's protectivness toward yuuji :)

You're humming a song from your studying playlist when you hear someone knocking at your door. You look at the clock you keep on your desk near a plant Yuuji gifted you last week. On the terracotta vase there's a scribbled note in the obvious handwriting of a child.

To: baby peach, but no more annoying screams when we play, please!

You smile. He always chooses to be baby mario when you play Mario Kart together because he doesn't want you to feel alone in case you're the only baby character. He's such a cute kid, you're lucky to have him as one of your almost-roommates.

You get up (it's still pretty early anyway) and stretch your back, hearing it pop. You open the door, and standing in front of it is the same kid you were thinking about.

"Hey," you wave at him, a happy tilt to your voice. You look at him shuffling and avoiding your gaze.

"Is everything okay, Yuuji?" you start getting worried. He mumbles something you don't hear clearly, so you make him repeat himself. He juts his lip out, then looks straight at your face.

"Can you take me to school please?"

You raise your eyebrows. Usually, this is a big brother kind of duty: where is Sukuna? Yuuji takes your silence as rejection and starts backtracking.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, I can just go alone-"

"Sure, let me grab my purse and we can go," you stop him, changing your expression to one of calmness, ruffling his pink, unruly hair.

"Are you sure it's not a bother?" he asks you hesitantly. "Big bro closed his door and I can't seem to be able to wake him up... and I'm supposed to be accompanied by an adult..."

"It's not a big deal, Yuuji. I'll take you in my passenger seat, okay? We'll be there shortly," you reassure him, nodding.

"Thanks," he says, blushing, giving you one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen him do. Your heart melts a little, and he looks at you like you've physically hung up the sun shining outside.

When you get back home, you're not even able to get to your room when you find yourself being squished between the nearest wall and a hot, rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Where the fuck is my brother?" Sukuna grits out his teeth, breathing down your neck. You wince. He's controlling his strength, but he's still a mountain compared to you, and your ribcage is starting to hurt.

"Get off of me right now or I'm calling the police, Itadori."

He notices he must have been too rough and takes a step back, mumbling an apology while still looking at you menacingly. You pat your clothes, making sure there are no wrinkles before answering him.

"I took him to school. He told me he was being neglected by his own caretaker, so I had to intervene," you shrug.

"He did not say that. He doesn't even know the word neglect," he says, sighing. His shoulders drop and he takes on a more relaxed appearance.

"What's wrong with you? You've never gotten up later than 6 am," you ask him, trying to sound nonchalant, walking toward your fridge to make yourself a toast. The truth is, you're starting to get attached to him. In the last couple of months, you've created some sort of bond, and it's probably also thanks to Yuuji and his stubbornness in making you do things like you're a family. Just last night, he forced you both to make cookies with him because apparently his friend Megumi was coming to play this afternoon and "he wanted to make a good impression".

Sukuna, on the other hand, can be a lot. The majority of the time he nudges you to get you to move out of his way (he just does it to see your annoyed face, but he's not going to tell you that), huffs in your face when you say he hasn't cleaned his dishes from the night before, and flips you off whenever you try to have a civil conversation about who's turn it is to choose the film on Friday night. But he's also pretty attentive. It's not like he makes you notice it, but he does feel bad for you when you get out of your room after an all nighter because of your studies. He thinks you're annoying because you're always trying to pry into his private life, but when you're not home Yuuji always asks of your whereabouts. Yeah, that's definitely why he can't stop thinking about you laughing with the boy he literally raised. The boy whose disappearance was driving him insane this morning.

Because sure, Sukuna tells Yuuji he's a brat 95% of the time, and the kid yaps way too much for his taste. He also manhandles the kid badly, telling him he's way too weak to be called his brother, and more often than not Sukuna tells him he's adopted and that he'll kick him out as soon as he can. But you've seen the way he prepared soup every night when his little brother caught the flu in December—he's just full of shit. He'll never admit how hard it was to raise a brother he didn't want at 13, alone and broke. But he'll make sure the child never doubts of having someone to fall back into like Sukuna did since he was much younger than Yuuji is now.

"Didn't sleep well and I missed the gym," he responds, munching on an apple. You hum in acknowledgment, not turning around from the stove.

"You know that pilates class you suggested to me last week? I found their videos on YouTube. I was thinking of starting them today," you quickly change the topic. You know you won't get more than that; him admitting he didn't sleep well was already a win.

"Wanna start them with me, chipmunk?" he asks you. You turn around to slap his arm slightly.

"I told you to stop calling me that," you say rolling your eyes.

"No."

You whine. "Yes, by the way. I want to see you suffer like the men I see on TikTok."

"Come be my weight and I'll do pilates with you today," he suddenly says. You're biting your toast and you're so caught off guard that you start coughing up crumbles. He hands you a glass of water while telling you you're too fucking dramatic.

"What does it mean to be your weight?" you tentatively ask him when you can breathe properly again.

That's how you find yourself sitting crisscrossed on his back, gripping his shirt as hard as you can, while he does pushups and tries not to laugh every time you scream about him moving too much and almost making you fall.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Short notice before the start of a deployment was bad enough, but Bradley was left worrying about so much more. And if he didn't figure it out quickly, he thought he might lose you. How would you and he make it through the worst kind of time apart?

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your boyfriend was acting strange, and now you had the distinct feeling he was lying to you. You sat on your bed after work on Friday with tears in your eyes as you tried to process the fact that you barely heard from him after you sent the topless picture the day before. Usually that kind of thing got him going in a good way, and he kept telling you he was fine, but it didn't seem that way. You just couldn't figure out what happened. 

A few minutes ago, you texted him about the plan for the weekend. You really wanted to talk to him about your upcoming winter break, too. You were supposed to be heading to his house right now, but you were having second thoughts as you read the latest message from him again.

I know we were supposed to go to Salvatore's tonight, but I think we need to talk instead. 

This sounded so bad to you. It didn't sound like he simply had a long day and just wanted to relax on the couch with you. This was something that built up over the past two days, and now you felt tears in your eyes as you scooped up your overnight bag and headed out.

"Just get it over with," you told yourself as you drove. You tried to focus on your playlist, but your mind was wandering to the plethora of reasons why I think we need to talk spelled disaster.

After you fought your way through rush hour traffic and pulled up to park in front of Bradley's house which you were supposed to move into next month, you noticed he was sitting on the porch step, waiting for you. And he didn't look very happy.

"Hi," he greeted with a poor attempt at a smile as he slowly stood and made his way over to you. He looked tall, broad and handsome in his uniform, but he didn't call you Gorgeous. 

"What's wrong?" you asked, not even bothering to get your bag out of your car before you met him halfway up his walkway. 

He pulled you in for a hug, and you could feel his lips on your ear as he lied to you again. "Nothing's wrong."

"Bradley," you said, trying to pull out of his grasp. He let you go, but now he wasn't even pretending to smile. You swallowed and whispered, "You've been acting strange since yesterday. I thought maybe work was getting to you, or that you just needed a day of quiet to yourself. But clearly this has to do with me, so just tell me what's wrong."

"It's not you," he replied instantly, taking a step closer with a pained look on his face. "God, it's absolutely not you."

When you looked at him more closely, it was obvious he was exhausted. Like maybe he hadn't even slept last night. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were sagging forward just enough that he looked almost defeated. 

"Bradley."

He looked down at the sidewalk before meeting your eyes again. "I found out yesterday... I'm being deployed."

The wave of emotion didn't hit you as hard as it could have, because you'd given this a lot of thought, but you were still rendered speechless. You'd mentally planned for this. Deployments were a way of life for him. But the tears were back as you asked, "When?"

"Day after Christmas," he murmured miserably. "But that's not all."

Your voice wouldn't work as you looked up at him, vision blurring his handsome features into something that was almost frightening. "What?"

He paused while you swiped at your eyes, and just when you thought you were going to have to force it out of him, he said, "It's with the Atlantic Fleet. Out of Norfolk, Virginia. They... they said they want me permanently."

"No," you sobbed, realizing that your tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. Now it made perfect sense. You knew why he'd been acting so odd. "You want to break up before you leave."

"What?" Bradley replied, his voice sharp as he reached for you again. "No. No, Gorgeous. I don't."

You felt ridiculous, crying in his arms in his front yard, but all you could say was, "Then why didn't you just tell me yesterday that you're going back to Virginia?"

"Fuck," he grunted, tucking you tighter against him. "Does this mean you don't want to dump me?"

You inhaled the smell of his deodorant and jet fuel as you cried. "Why on earth would you think I'd want to dump you? I'm in love with you."

He started to back toward the front door, his hold on you never relenting as he murmured, "Now that I know you're not going to leave, let's go inside where we can talk and snuggle on the couch."

--------------------------

Bradley had been waiting on his porch step for almost an hour for you to arrive, thinking there was a real chance that you'd drive off again. He was tired and hungry, and he'd spent the last day and a half trying to figure out what was going on with his job. But more than anything, he was afraid you hadn't changed your stance on falling for a guy who lived on the opposite side of the country.

Shit. He made you cry. You were still crying as he led you over to the couch where you ended up sitting on his lap. He was trying to wipe your tears away as you just shook your head. "I'm sorry, Baby," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you like this."

You sucked in a few breaths before you managed to say, "Let me make sure I have this straight. You're leaving for Virginia. And you don't know when you're coming back, if at all?"

"Yeah," he whispered. There was no point in beating around the bush about it. "The deployment out of Norfolk is a done deal. Leaving on the twenty-sixth is a done deal. I'm trying my hardest to fight the rest of it."

"You can do that?" you asked, letting your forehead rest against his. 

Bradley kissed you softly. He couldn't stop himself with you this close. "I'm trying. I don't want to leave San Diego. Virginia used to feel like home, but it hasn't for a long time. Especially not since I met you. So a permanent change of station is something I will fight until they force it on me."

You kissed him this time, and he knew nowhere would feel like home without you. But he couldn't retire yet, and he didn't want to have to ask you to uproot your life for him. He just made himself dizzy, chasing his thoughts around in circles. 

"Is there anything I can do?" you asked.

He wanted to beg you to stay with him no matter what, but he couldn't do that either. "Remember when I was deployed last time and you told me you were afraid I was stationed somewhere far away from you? And how you would have to brace yourself to say goodbye instead of pursuing something?" You nodded against him, arms around his neck as he whispered, "I thought about that all night last night. About how this could be the end for us."

"Stop it," you said before pressing your lips to his. "I don't feel that way anymore at all. It wasn't even a deal breaker when I said it months ago, and I hadn't even met you in person yet. I'm not going anywhere, Bradley. We'll figure it out."

He eased himself down along the couch, keeping you firmly on top of him as he sighed in relief. Suddenly fighting for his job with the Pacific Fleet didn't seem as daunting. He had to figure it out though, because he wanted to stay here and get married. "Say my name again?" he asked, knowing exactly how much you could calm him down when he let you in.

"Bradley," you whispered, settling against his chest as he closed his eyes.

"I love you, Gorgeous."

He didn't realize exactly how tired and stressed he was until he woke up close to midnight, alone on the couch with a blanket draped over him, still wearing his uniform and boots. As soon as he opened his eyes, his head was pounding from the events of the week, but he could smell something cooking.

Bradley rolled off the couch while his stomach growled, and he made his way into the kitchen where you were wearing his sweatshirt and making a grilled cheese sandwich while you looked at your phone. "Hey," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You quickly swiped out of the photo album and tossed your phone aside.

"I was going to wake you up soon. You have almost no food here, but you need to eat," you told him, turning to face him. He had no food, because he originally planned to take you out tonight, and now there was no point in going grocery shopping since he was leaving. Your expression was unreadable, and he didn't like that.

"What I need is to spend as much time with you as I can between now and Norfolk." Your lips curved up into a small smile. "I should have told you what was going on as soon as I found out."

You nodded. "I know we haven't been together long, but I'm taking this pretty fucking seriously, Bradley."

"Me, too," he promised. "And it's really hot when you swear." When you laughed, he felt so much better. "Listen, you're absolutely stuck with me now, okay? I'll figure this shit out, but you're stuck with me, and we're going to get married someday."

"Sounds good," you replied easily, still smiling. "But right now you need to eat."

----------------------------

You felt better with Bradley's arm around you than you had all day. You couldn't believe he'd been hanging onto your words from his last deployment. You were surprised he could still possibly think that distance would mean anything to you. Both of you agreed not to get ahead of yourselves. Uprooting your life and your career would leave you devastated, but you'd start over again for him.

"Were you just looking at the dirty picture you sent me?" Bradley asked as he bit into half of the sandwich while another one cooked.

"Yes," you whispered before nibbling on your own sandwich half.

"Shit," he mumbled, dropping his food back onto the plate where he stood in the kitchen. "I never even told you how much I loved it."

"No. You didn't."

He wiped his hands on his uniform shirt. "God, I keep fucking up. I got so sidetracked by the orders from Norfolk that I couldn't even think. I loved that photo."

You turned away to flip the second grilled cheese sandwich in the pan. "I thought you got tired of me sending them." Bradley's hand moved faster than his brain as he flicked the knob on the stove, turning it off. "Hey," you protested, turning to look at him again, but he pulled the spatula out of your hand and tossed it into the sink. "Bradley!"

He mashed his lips against yours, silencing you as his hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer until you were pressed tight to the front of his body. Then he let his hands slide along your bare skin from your legs, over your perfect ass, up until they were on your lower back. "I'll do better," he promised. "And right now, I want to show you how not fucking tired of you I am."

A minute later, you were on your back on the edge of his bed, legs thrown over his shoulders while he ate your pussy. Your fingers were tangled up in his hair as he knelt on the floor, and his sweatshirt was bunched up above your tits. "I will never get tired of you," he swore before licking a long stripe up to your clit. If you thought for a second that he would want to throw in the towel over long distance, he needed to make sure you understood he never would.

"Bradley," you moaned as he sucked on your clit. His insignia pins were digging into the back of your thigh, as was his name tag. He would figure this out. He would figure everything out. Leaving in a handful of days was not ideal, but as long as you still wanted him, he was all in.

"Oh my god," you whined, back arching as Bradley realized he was being a bit rougher with you than usual. But he couldn't stop. His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you in place as you tried to rock against him. 

His mouth was demanding as he sucked on and plucked at your clit, but you just kept getting louder for him. Your legs were shaking, heels digging into his shoulder blades, but he didn't stop until you came. With his tongue still swirling your clit as you yanked on his hair, Bradley quickly unzipped his khaki pants and pulled himself free. He positioned himself at your entrance as you tugged until his mouth was on yours.

"You liked it rough," he grunted between kisses slick with your arousal.

"I did," you answered, rolling your hips to take the tip of him. As your fingers trailed down to his pins, you asked, "Are you going to fuck me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" He watched you gasp, mouth agape as he filled you with one deep thrust, and then your head tipped back as you moaned, "I'll take that as a yes."

His lips found that sweet spot next to your ear that he loved to kiss. "I just want to ensure that you'll miss me as much as I miss you while we're apart."

Your voice was softer as you said, "You don't have to worry about that."

Bradley kissed along your neck and told you how much he loved you before absolutely pounding you into the mattress. 

-----------------------------

You and Bradley slept in so late on Saturday morning, you heard him wander out to the living room when Natasha arrived to go for a run to tell her he'd workout on Sunday instead. When he tried to slip back into bed, you rolled over toward him.

"Sorry. It was just Nat. I forgot I told her days ago that we could run." He gathered you against his chest and kissed your forehead.

You grinned and said, "I heard you tell her that the love of your life was more appealing today than working out."

"I sure did," he grunted and ran his big, heavy hand down your back. "You're always more appealing than anything else, Gorgeous. But if I don't run, I'll gain so much weight. You know how much I eat."

A smile found your lips as you thought about the rough sex followed by another round of grilled cheese sandwiches at two in the morning. "Can we skip Salvatore's again tonight? I'd rather stay here and feed you. We can go to Salvatore's when your deployment ends and you return to San Diego."

Bradley sighed. "And if I get told my new station is in Norfolk?"

You pressed your fingertip to his lips. "We're not humoring that thought yet. Instead, we're going to snuggle and fuck and maybe watch a Christmas movie. Okay?"

"Nothing has ever sounded better."

After that, Sunday was spent with the two of you trying to use up as much of his food as you could. You even managed to bake some cookies that he ate a dozen of in one sitting, and then you found a strand of twinkle lights in his hallway closet where you discreetly squished a spider without telling him. You helped him hang the lights on his porch railing as he laughed and said, "I don't usually celebrate holidays anymore."

"You do now," you informed him, making a mental note to have your students make some cards for him this week before he left. Bradley would be very busy over the next few days, and you didn't want to stress him out about the holiday. But just when you were about to ask him if there was a chance he'd want to spend Christmas Day with you before he flew to Norfolk, he said, "Maybe we can get Thai food on Christmas, and you can help me finish packing?"

You nodded and tried to keep the tears at bay, afraid to admit to him that the future you were so sure of was scaring you a bit. Being without him for a deployment was manageable, but the last thing you wanted to do was move across the country. At least you'd have your regular pen pal back while he was on the aircraft carrier; having Bradley in your email inbox on a regular basis again was better than nothing.

"That sounds perfect," you told him, knowing you'd do whatever it took to make this work.

----------------------------

When Bradley was called in to talk to Cyclone, he was exhausted for a different reason. Although the weekend started out laced with uncertainty between you and him, it bloomed into something sweet. On Sunday evening, you held his hand and walked along the windswept beach until it got too chilly, and then you helped him start packing. You'd had some tears in your eyes that he brushed away as you folded his clothes into tiny rectangles and stuck by his side.

Now the only uncertainty he felt came from the U.S. fucking Navy. With a deep breath and squared shoulders, he opened Cyclone's office door after he knocked. It wasn't surprising that Mav and Warlock were there, too, but he couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one regarding a change of station. He raised his hand into the proper salute.

"Admirals. Captain."

The three men returned the courtesy before Cyclone sank into his office chair. "Have a seat, Lieutenant." His voice sounded gruff and perhaps even more annoyed than usual as Bradley slowly sat down opposite him. "Captain Mitchell," he barked at Maverick who procured a folder from behind his back and handed it to Bradley. Then he turned toward Bradley again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, you'll report to the USS Gerald R. Ford in a matter of days to rendezvous with the air strike team."

Bradley nodded and skimmed the paperwork inside the folder regarding the sensitive nature of the mission, but he didn't much care about what they wanted him to do when he got there. "Sir, can you tell me where I'll be stationed once this mission is completed?"

Cyclone leaned back in his seat, brow puckered, arms crossed over his chest. "Naval Station Norfolk has, as you know, requested you specifically to round out their Super Hornet team permanently."

"Yes, Sir," Bradley replied, practically choking on the words. He would have never thought the promise of Virginia would feel like a threat to his happiness, but here he was. "I would really prefer to stay in San Diego," he added, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

Cyclone leaned forward in his seat with a weary sigh. "Admiral Simpson, Captain Mitchell and myself all agree that the Pacific Fleet is very well balanced at the moment. Losing a reliable pilot to the Atlantic at this point would not be ideal." The tension in Bradley's body eased up momentarily before Cyclone said, "But I can only do so much to keep the status quo when there is a clear need across the board."

Bradley wanted to ask why nobody else was even in consideration when Warlock cleared his throat and said, "There's a price to pay when you're the best of the best."

There was a beat of silent agreement amongst the four of them before Cyclone heaved a deep breath. "I'll do what I can," he said simply. "In the meantime, prepare for your flight to Norfolk. The information is in the folder. And prepare to be out of communication with any and all civilians for the duration."

Bradley's heart stopped. He opened the folder again, but his eyes couldn't seem to focus on the words in front of him as the pages all blurred together. His fingers scrambled as he swallowed hard, and finally he looked up at the older man seated behind the desk. "No communication at all. For the duration?"

Cyclone nodded once. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

---------------------------

It was just something silly, but when you saw it while you were out shopping, you bought Bradley another Christmas present. You wrapped it up in red and gold paper along with the Mira Mesa Elementary School sweatshirt you got in his size. Then you threw the gifts along with the collection of cards from your students in your overnight bag and tried to keep yourself calm as you drove down to Coronado.

You would have a few days with your boyfriend at the beginning of your winter break before you took him to the airport and sent him off to Norfolk. There would be plenty of things to keep you busy while he was away, including packing up your apartment before your lease ended. But now you'd be moving into his house without him there.

All of the twinkle lights and decorated trees gave you a bittersweet feeling in the pit of your stomach as you drove down his street, but at least this time when you parked, he jumped up from his porch step and met you at your car.

"Gorgeous," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you. His old sweatshirt was currently keeping you warm, and you really wanted him to have his new one for his deployment. You kissed him hard, noting the look of apprehension on his face, but chalking it up to the stress of the unknown.

You kissed him again and kept your arms around his neck as he picked up your bag. "I was going to say we should wait until Christmas morning, but I want you to open your presents now."

His voice was deep and raspy and right next to your ear as he led you inside. "You did not have to get me anything." He kissed your cheek and added, "I need to tell you something important."

"After you open these," you agreed, reaching into the bag and pulling out both gifts before he set it down.

Bradley studied your face before running his thumb along your cheek. "Sure. After I open these."

He took the wrapped packages as you tugged him toward the couch with your hands on his bicep, and you ended up halfway on his lap as he carefully tore at the paper like he didn't want to harm it too much.

"Just rip it," you said with a soft laugh, but he shook his head and looked up at you.

"It's too pretty," he replied. "And nobody gets me gifts, ever. Unless you count coupons for steak dinners from Natasha."

You laughed a little louder as you imagined the laundry list of weird gifts his best friend must have given him over the years. When he finally had his hands on the sweatshirt, he sat frozen with a smile on his face. "I love this. I kind of feel like an honorary faculty member at your school."

"You're a legend in my classroom, Bradley," you promised, snuggling a little closer as he set the shirt aside and carefully unwrapped the second item. This one would mean more to you while he was away, and you hoped he understood just how much you were going to miss his voice and his touch. But you'd still have something from your pen pal.

"Oh," Bradley said softly as he held the navy blue stationery set on his lap. It included note cards, luxuriously thick paper and a gold pen. You could already picture his handwriting on the pages.

"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."

"Gorgeous," he groaned, setting the stationery down on his coffee table before burying his face in his hands. "That's not gonna happen."

------------------------------

Atlantic Fleet, here we come. But for how long? No pen pals. No email. No letters. This deployment already hurts. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

[haikyuubby]

freak in you

“room full of beautiful women but i want one”

bachira x reader head cannons

✭ - smut, gn reader

how it started

• bachira loved having a s/o, he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

• but he also loved having sex with said s/o.

• when you and bachira first got together, you found out that you were the only person that he’s ever dated before.

• with that, it was safe to assume that he was a virgin.

• when you guys first started getting intimate, it didn’t begin with sex immediately.

• you were a treasure to him, he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize losing you, so you both agreed to take things slow in your relationship.

• (slow being 3-4 months before actually doing it)

• you wanted to take things slow, especially since you’d be his first.

• it started with passionate, fiery makeout sessions that lasted near an hour.

• then, you offered to give him head for the first time and he was in heaven.

• soon after he’d start doing things to you, being more of a giver than receiver.

• when the time finally came for you two to do it, you took more of the initiative, making sure he was having fun the whole time.

headcannons

• bachira is definitely a moaner, and a loud one too.

• has crazy stamina

• his fav position is probably cowgirl, lotus, or a mating press.

• loves, loves, LOVES giving, but also likes receiving sometimes too.

• likes the thrill of doing stuff in hidden public areas

• likes having his hair pulled

• loves to give/receive hickeys

• prolly not the type to have a specific music playlist playing in the background, but something more like background noise from the tv (like adventure time or tawog).

• will use a condom if you ask, but really doesn’t care.

• will pull out if needed

• likes to hold your hand while giving you backshots (🤭)

• he loves to cum on your face after you give him head

• overall, sex with bachira is usually a 10/10 on most days.

also this just gave him idk

[clovers-housetree]

Activities for Regressors Without Caregivers! (or just fun regression activties!)

(Although you're always welcome here if you'd like any form of comfort anyway! ^w^)

This one's kind of a long one, after the few tips I list, I've mentioned an app I use called Finch, which will be talked about below the cut.

Since that's the case, I'll put my little ending message here instead:

Knowing how to take care of yourself can take a lot of work and practice, but I believe it's worth the effort, because then you'll be a happier and healthier you! Especially if you can find ways to make it fun!

I'm more than happy to be here for you and offer my support in any way I can, anyhow! I'm proud of you for doing what you can, I know it can be very hard.

I myself don't have a caregiver for when I regress, so most of the time I end up taking care of myself! Here are some fun activities and things I do when I regress to keep myself calm and happy! ^w^

Paci mentions/pics not long after the first section for those of you who'd rather not see 'em.

♥ Arts and crafts! I absolutely LOVE coloring and making bracelets with beads, something not too complicated for little hands, but also something fun!

With coloring, you can buy coloring books, or draw something of your own to color in- even printing out a page you find online, coloring digitally, or tracing over something to color in could work! I prefer coloring more than drawing personally because I don't draw all the time, but I bet I could learn a little thing or two from the artists around here!

For bracelets (and other jewelry), strings can be hard to knot with little hands (at least they aren't those small, slippery clasps!!), but the beads shouldn't be too hard to handle if you're careful! Even just planning out patterns is fun!

Here are some My Little Pony bracelets I made, and the decorations I did for my pacis!

♥ Making playlists! Dancing is fun, and a good way to get the zoomies out, but you can just make playlists for any occasion! I have playlists that help me pet-regress, songs with sounds I like, adventure playlists... (Well- a lot of these are still in progress, but- you get the point!)

I also love those playlist videos on YouTube! Animal Crossing, Super Mario Galaxy, Minecraft and music box music are typically my go-to to help me settle or just make for comfy background music! Here's one of my favorites, shadowatnoon has lovely Nintendo music mixes!

♥ Playing with your plushies! You can take them on adventures, or make your own!

Like Toby, climbing The Great Pillow Mountain!

(This is Toby by the way, he's one of my best friends and a VERY good hugger!)

You can play games with them, too! Toby's REALLY good at hide and seek... Maybe you can find him for me? :0

♥ Finding shows to watch! I really like Paw Patrol and Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at the moment. Plus, you can look at agere content and fics from shows you like! People make really cool stimboards and moodboards, for example, and I like reading through all the fun stories people write!

Here's a silly picture of Rocky I found! :3

Finch

Finch is a self-care app where you take care of your very own little bird friend by taking care of yourself!

You can set daily goals, or for each day (or more specific ones as well I think.). By completing these goals, you give your bird energy to go on adventures! They usually come back with a funny little story or silly questions, because they're learning, too!

Through completing these goals (or daily, at least), you can get Rainbow Stones, which you can use to buy clothes for your bird, make them different colors, or give them furniture for their house!

They're also LGBTQ+ and disability-friendly!! :3

This is my little bird, Honeydew! You're welcome to friend me as well if you'd like, my code is: Z3E2T7VRK6

It's helped me learn a lot about taking care of myself and keeping track of my goals, and I get little rewards for it! I've used the app for several months now, and it's helped me out a lot!

"Fluttershy protects this blog! SFW interaction only, please and thank you! ^w^"

"Wouldn't show a kid? Doesn't belong here!"

[springtyme]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 ♡

based on a request from @what-the-jams asking for shy reader who starts crying when Eddie keeps complimenting her. it ended up a little different than first entended, but i hope you still like it <3

Eddie Munson x shy!reader || Masterlist || Eddie playlist

summary: Sometimes you have a hard time believing you deserve good things. Eddie thinks you deserve everything. He would gift you the moon and all the stars if you asked.

word count: 2.8k

warnings/tags: Shy and slightly insecure reader. Eddie being a total sweetheart. Fluff & comfort.

You sit cross-legged on the mattress of Eddie’s bed, your back supported by a fluffy pillow propped against the wall, the faint hum of the electric heater filling the room with a gentle warmth. Outside, the wind howls softly, rain rattling against the window panes, but inside, the atmosphere is warm and cozy.

The flickering light from the bedside lamp casts soft shadows, illuminating the little odds and ends that make the place feel so homely—band posters on the walls, scattered D&D manuals and notes for upcoming campaigns, and an old guitar propped in the corner. It’s cozy and intimate, and so, so Eddie.

Eddie is sprawled on the carpet, back flat against the floor as his tousled curls catches the dim, golden light from the nearby lamp as he strums absentmindedly on his guitar. He looks so carefree, lost in his world of notes and chords, a soft smile playing on his lips.

There’s a charming kind of chaos about him as he lays there—with his worn-out band t-shirt and mismatched socks peeking out from beneath his gray sweatpants. You sit quietly, taking in the sight of him completely absorbed in his music, and it warms your heart. 

You love being here, love being with him, sharing little moments like this with him, yet each time he looks your way, something inside you tightens. It’s been a little over a month since the two of you officially started dating, and even though you feel silly over it you’re still a little nervous around him. Not nervous in a bad way, though. It’s a kind of nervous excitement, a flutter in your chest that sets your stomach to churning. 

Eddie looks up, suddenly meeting your gaze, and the soft smile on his face widens as he sits up, guitar resting in his lap. “Hey,” he says, his voice light and playful.

“Hey,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

 “What’s on your mind?” 

You clear your throat, searching for words. “Just… you know, this is nice,” you reply softly. The weight of your shyness makes your voice drop an octave, but Eddie seems to get it. 

“Yeah, it is,” he replies, leaning back on his hands, his gaze steady and encouraging as he studies you. “I got the coolest, prettiest girl in all of Hawkins sitting right here with me, couldn’t be much nicer than that.”

His compliment catches you off guard, a lump forming in your throat. You’re not used to guys being this nice to you. You’re used to guys either being way too pushy, just wanting something from you. Or the hasty conversations that usually fizzle out and just leave you feeling more alone than before. But Eddie—he’s different. His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, ideally suited for the weather outside, and the sincerity in all he says never fails to make your heart race and make shy butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

Words escape you, and all you can manage is a small smile of acknowledgement, before averting your gaze, looking down at your hands who are mindlessly fiddling with the hem of your sweater. Eddie’s brow furrows slightly as he takes in your reaction. 

“You alright, doll?” Eddie asks, removing the guitar from his lap and setting it aside before shifting closer to the bed.

You nod, but you don’t say anything.

He sits up on his shins, placing his forearms on the mattress and tilting his head to get a better look at you.  “You know, you don’t have to be so quiet around me.”  

A wave of warmth washes over you as you look up to meet his gaze again, his brown eyes filled with a mixture of concern and encouragement. There’s an openness about him, a willingness to understand without judgment, and it makes your heart swell.

“I’m just…” you fumble for words, “I’m not used to being around people like this.” 

Eddie leans forward, his eyes filled with a kind of warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. “People like what?” 

“People like you,” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. 

“Like me..?” he repeats, and you can see the genuine curiosity in his gaze, mixed with something you are having a harder time identifying.   

You can’t articulate it. You can’t explain that he makes you feel seen, like you’re something worth looking at. You can’t put into words the way his eyes make you feel like you could melt, like you could fall into them and disappear.   

He’s probably thinking you’re being silly, you think. You can’t help but feel like a little bit of a mess around him, like your whole life has been a series of fumbled attempts to make sense of everything. 

“You just make me feel…” you start, but the words get caught in your throat.  You can’t even explain it to yourself, let alone to him.   

“I make you feel… what?” he prompts, and he’s sitting so close now that you can see the tiny freckles on his nose.   

He takes your hand in his, his fingers warm and rough against your skin. You try to pull back, but he holds on, not tightly, but encouraging, his gaze unwavering as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Just tell me,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur, almost close to a plea. 

“You make me feel seen, and…” you begin before pausing for a moment, wanting to find the right words. “You just… you make it feel easy. Like I can just be myself without worrying about what you think.”

“That’s the point,” Eddie replies softly, his expression turning earnest. “I want you to be yourself. I happen to really, really, really like you, so you being yourself is kind of my favorite thing ever, actually.” 

“Oh…” The word slips from your lips, barely a sound. His words hang in the air between you. You can feel the weight of his sincerity. You try to speak, to say something more, but the words get caught in your throat. You’re not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings that erupts inside you, how he makes you feel so loved it almost scares you. 

 Instead, you sit there, heart racing, a swirling blend of admiration and gratitude crashing over you like waves. 

Eddie’s gaze doesn’t waver, staying locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your cheeks warm. “Baby, you okay?” he asks softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, a gentle tether grounding you in the moment. 

The word ‘baby’ makes your stomach flip. It’s a term of endearment that’s only escaped his lips a handful of times, and each time it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I just…” you start, but the words get lost in a wave of emotion that crests in your chest. 

The intensity of his gaze, the way he looks at you like you’re something special, it overwhelms you, finally breaking the dam. Tears prick at your eyes, and you can feel the familiar tightness in your throat.   

“I…” you try again, but all that comes out is a choked sob. The sound, unexpected and embarrassing, makes you flinch. 

Eddie, who was leaning forward with a gentle smile, sits back abruptly, his eyes widening in alarm. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, clearly trying to keep a gentle, soothing tone, but he can’t hide the panicked concern in his voice as he scrambles to his feet. “What’s wrong? Did I say something? Did I do something?” 

You can’t stop the tears that are now streaming down your face. You feel ridiculous, a grown woman crying over nothing. But you can’t help it. He’s just looking at you, and you feel like you’re going to burst. 

His face etched with worry as he sits down next to you on the bed, the playful Eddie you love replaced by a panicking version of himself. “Hey, talk to me, doll. What’s going on?” 

You try to speak, but all that comes out is a muffled sob. You find yourself unable to look at him, the weight of your emotions feels too raw, too exposed and you’re scared that you’ll break down completely. 

His hands find yours, his warm touch calming the storm brewing inside you. “Baby,” he whispers, “what’s wrong? Please look at me.”

You inhale deeply, trying to regain control of your emotions. You’re not sure why you’re crying.  It’s not like anything bad has happened.  It’s just… you’ve never had anyone make you feel this way before. You’ve never had someone hold space for your feelings, acceptance radiating from their very presence. The way he’s right there, ready to listen without judgment, feels overwhelming and comforting all at once.

You let out a shaky breath, finally meeting his concerned stare. The warmth of his hands wraps around yours, grounding you amidst the emotional storm. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say, your voice still thick with emotion. “I just… I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s just… I’ve never had someone care like this before.”

“Please don’t apologize,” he says gently, his thumb tenderly stroking the back of your hand. “I just got scared that I was an idiot and said something wrong, but please don’t ever apologize for crying.” 

His voice is soothing, wrapping around you like a warm hug as you fight to regain your composure. “When have you ever been an idiot?” you sniffle, but the ghost of a chuckle sneaks out as well. “You just… you don’t know how hard it is for me to believe that I deserve this,” you whisper, squeezing his hands for reassurance in the chaos.

“Hey, listen to me.” He slides a little closer, eyes never leaving yours. “You totally deserve this. You deserve everything. I mean you probably deserve way better than me, but you’ll just have to settle, cause I’m not letting you go that easily. You’re amazing, and trust me, I’m the lucky one for having you in my life.” His gaze is fierce, determined. 

His words hit you like a tidal wave, each syllable resonating deep within your chest. The raw sincerity in his voice pulls at your heartstrings, threatening to break the last piece of the dam of emotions you’ve been trying desperately to hold back.

“You really mean that?” you murmur, your voice almost inaudible but trembling with hope. You’re searching his eyes for any flicker of doubt, any hint that this is too good to be true.

“Absolutely,” he replies, emphatically squeezing your hands between his, as if willing you to believe him. “You’re not just ‘good enough’; you’re remarkable, and it’s about time you recognize that in yourself.”

His reassurance washes over you like a wave, and you take a deep breath, grounding yourself in this moment—the two of you, messy and real.

“Okay,” you whisper, and you feel a hint of a smile creeping onto your lips despite the tears. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Eddie replies, relief flooding his expression. “Now, let’s do something about these tears.”

In one fluid motion, he reaches for his t-shirt, lifting it and swiping at your cheeks with the soft fabric. The gesture is so absurdly sweet, it catches you off guard, a laugh escaping your lips even as the tears continue to fall.

“See? Much better,” he grins playfully, and with that genuine smile, you feel the tension start to dissolve, laughter bubbling up as he wipes your wet cheeks with his shirt.

“You’re ridiculous,” you manage to say, but the warmth in your chest grows, your heart feeling a little less contracted. 

“And you’re gorgeous,” he shoots back, his look turning serious again, but the warmth flickering in his eyes gives him away. “Like how are you so gorgeous right now? I thought we as a species had agreed that we’re ugly when we cry.”

“Shut up, there is no way I’m not looking like a mess right now,” you protest. 

“Seriously, you’re gorgeous, even when you cry,” he insists, his eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity as he leans closer again. “I love it. Well, not so much the crying part. But I digress. You’re still the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.”

“Shut up, I just stopped crying, you gonna make me start again,” you retort, but the corners of your mouth can’t help but lift into a smile despite your embarrassment.

Eddie chuckles, that beautiful, infectious sound that fills the room with light despite the rain pattering outside. “I can’t help it, I just call it how I see it,” he says, glancing at you with a playful challenge in his eyes. “Gorgeous and a little foolish—my two favorite qualities in a person.”

“Stooop…”  Your protests are half-hearted at best as you raise your hand to place it over his mouth, but he catches it before you can, kissing your palm before gently pulling it away. His lips linger on your skin for just a moment, sending a delightful shiver up your spine.

This moment feels surreal—warm, inviting, yet fragile, like a delightful whisper on the wind. Eddie brushes a stray tear away he missed before with the back of his hand, and you watch, entranced by the kindness etched in his expression. It reinforces the truth you had all but hidden from yourself; that you are deserving of love like this—real, constant, enduring.

The warmth of the moment settles comfortably around you both, like a familiar melody you want to keep playing on repeat. Eddie’s gaze lingers on yours, searching for any flicker of uncertainty that might still be lingering in your eyes. You can feel the weight of his attention, but instead of feeling exposed, it feels like a gentle embrace.

He is still holding your hand, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb as if savoring every minute of this connection. The silence hangs between you, the world outside fading away, only the soft sounds of the rain and the warmth of Eddie’s presence anchoring you in this moment.

You take a breath, feeling the lingering remnants of tears giving way to a fragile, hopeful smile. “I really appreciate you, you know?” you say finally, your voice steadying. “For… everything. For being so patient with me.”

“You’re the one who always listens to me yapping about all my nonsense,” Eddie replies with a playful grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So I think the appreciation goes both ways.”  

“Why don’t you show your appreciation with a kiss?” you ask, your heart racing at the sudden boldness of your request. It’s a teasing challenge wrapped in the sweetness of the moment, and you can’t help but smile mischievously at him, your vision still a little blurry from your tears, but he looks just as handsome as ever.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “A kiss, huh? That seems like a pretty good deal,” he muses, leaning in just a touch closer, maintaining that captivating eye contact. The sparkling twinkle in his eyes makes you feel like the world is narrowing down to just the two of you, and suddenly your heart feels impossibly full.

“Yeah,” you reply, emboldened by his teasing demeanor. “But I want it to be a good one. If you’re going to show your appreciation, you’ve got to make it count.”

“Oh, I’ve always got good kisses on hand,” he teases back, his tone light but laced with sincerity. His gaze flickers to your lips, and for a beat, the air thickens with something electric, igniting all those butterfly feelings within you.

He leans in slowly, giving you a moment to back away if you wanted to, but your heart races in anticipation. You can see the gleam of mischief in his eyes, but there’s also an undeniable sincerity, a deep affection that sends warmth radiating through you.

When his lips finally brush against yours, it’s soft and tentative, as if he’s savoring the moment, wanting to make it last forever. You respond instinctively, leaning into him, and the kiss deepens, solidifying the fluttering connection that was growing between you.

It’s a kiss that feels like an embrace, a connection that transcends everything else swirling around you—the rain outside, the doubts that live within your own mind, the uncertainty that once loomed heavy in your heart. It’s a kiss that communicates everything you had just struggled to articulate, a promise of understanding, tenderness, and a future filled with endless possibilities. 

When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as the warmth of the kiss still reverberates between you.

“Wow,” he breathes, eyes wide and sparkling with a mix of surprise and delight. “See? That was definitely worth it.”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, a smile tugging at your lips.

[rebelfell]

game night

eddie munson x bisexual!reader x lesbian!chrissy cunningham

18+, MDNI 2k

Just a saucy blurb taking place in the universe of this story.

cw: MFF, platonic!hc, oral (f receiving), handjob, use of a dildo, allusion to pegging, polyamory? sort of kind of?

The steady ticking of the egg timer on the coffee table felt about a million miles away.

You could still hear it, but barely registered the time it was counting down.

Truthfully, all you could think about right now, all that you could focus any of your attention on, was Chrissy’s hot tongue as it laved over your clit in time with her fingers curling inside of you.

She had draped herself across the chaise of the sectional sofa, letting her newly dyed locks spill over the edge like a chocolate waterfall. With an eager smile and shining eyes, she had beckoned you forward and positioned you over her with your knees on either side of her head.

You let your heat hover over her lips and leaned back, supporting yourself with your hands so as not to drop the full weight of your body on her, but also so Eddie’s view wasn’t obscured.

Jury was still out on whether that was actually a kindness to him or not…

“You sure you only set it for ten minutes?”

From the other side of the room, Eddie made a huffy and miffed little sound through his nose as he shifted in his seat, subtly tugging at his sweats in an attempt to offer himself a little bit of relief.

“Don’t…haaaah…don’t be a sore loser, Ed,” you scolded gently, a teasing smile on your lips as you winked at him from your seat on Chrissy’s face.

She had flown into Indianapolis on Thursday for a business meeting and decided to take a few extra days off to make a long weekend of it—ostensibly staying in your spare room, although she’d been there for two nights already and the guest bed still had yet to be slept in. As per usual.

The past few months, she’d been volunteering more and more for these sorts of work trips. And whenever she did, you and Eddie would drive up and either stay the night in whatever lavish hotel suite her company set her up in, or drive her with you back to Hawkins for longer stays.

Vibrations rippled across your pussy lips as she hummed excitedly beneath you and her fingers slipped from their spot inside your core to wrap her lithe arms around your thighs, tugging you closer so she could lick deeper into your heat.

The moan it drew out of you made you toss your head back and Eddie’s eyes narrowed, lit with a combination of lust and envy.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered, shifting again.

“It’s your own fault,” Chrissy chided, pausing the efforts of her tongue to tip her head and look at him. “Who goes all-in on a pair of twos?”

Eddie grumbled more, casting his eyes at the abandoned cards strewn across the coffee table.

The poker game started out with fairly normal betting, using leftover Halloween candy as chips, and all three of you joking over blush pink glasses of rosé while a shamelessly bubbly playlist poured out of the stereo speakers. You had gone out fairly quickly, perfectly content just to watch and listen while sneaking candy from their respective piles.

But once you dropped out, it didn’t take a minute for Chrissy and Eddie’s competitive natures to come out and to up the ante, as it were.

With their full piles of candy already pushed into the center, the two of them narrowed their eyes at one another over their cards, both shooting daring, challenging smiles at the other.

They agreed the winner of the next hand would get ten full minutes to do whatever they wanted with you—but any attempt of the loser to touch themselves would add more time to the clock.

A loud, high moan burst past your lips as Chrissy thrust her fingers back inside you and stroked that precious spot that had you seeing white behind your eyes. Your thighs shook against her cheeks that rounded as she grinned, relishing in the gush of your arousal around her fingers.

“Ooh, you like that don’t you, sweetie?” Chrissy cooed up at you and then tipped her head to look at Eddie again, shiny eyes dancing with mischief. “She’s kinda needy tonight. What’s going on, Ed? I hope you’ve been taking care of our girl.”

“I take care of her just fine,” Eddie assured, his sour look deepening as his cock twitched.

Chrissy shrugged and she returned to the task at hand while your eyes landed on Eddie’s—big and round and wet and pleading. He was milking that pathetic lost puppy angle for all it was worth.

Giving him a small smile, you cleared your throat to get Chrissy’s attention and her heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open, feeling the way that you shivered with delight when your eyes met.

You gazed down at her, the sight of her lovely face between your plush thighs and the way her seaglass eyes glistened as she peered back up at you making your stomach quiver and flip with excitement. With a steady hand that no longer trembled with nerves the way it had the first few times you’d done this with her, you reached out to brush your knuckles across the softness of her cheek that was still plump and hydrated from the facemasks you’d done the night before.

“Chris…can he play too?” you whispered, playing it up with a pout of your own. “Please?”

The plaintive lilt of your voice and the way your lashes fluttered at her as you asked sooo sweetly might have indicated Chrissy was the one running the show. But as you had learned in the last few months, there was little (if anything) you could ask for that she or Eddie would deny you.

She pursed her lips, taking a moment to reply like she was deep in thought before she broke out in a beaming smile, placing one last kiss to your puffy clit before unwinding her arms from around your thighs so she could shimmy out from under you.

The two of you smoothly swapped places so you were laid out on the chaise with your head at the end near the edge. Finally, you looked at Eddie and crooked your finger to beckon him over.

His eyes bulged in his skull and he nearly tripped over the footstool to his chair he got to his feet so quickly. Scrambling over to the couch, clumsily tugging his sweats to the middle of his thighs, his chest heaved with his panting breaths like the anticipation was actually killing him.

Chrissy giggled at the overeager display, slipping off the couch and disappearing down the hall.

“Areyousure?” Eddie asked, his words all running together as he kneeled in front of you, his hard cock bobbing at the level of your mouth.

You nodded as you reached out for him with your right hand, only to rethink it and extend your left instead. You could very nearly see the diamond on your third finger reflecting in his deep brown eyes as your hand wrapped around his length. And a strangled moan rumbled from deep in his chest, the sound dissolving into more breathy and desperate panting at the sight.

He loved watching the ring he’d given you glitter while you jerked him off.

A few slow, lazy strokes was all it took to have him leaking all over your hand, still painfully hard from watching you and Chrissy without being allowed to offer himself even a second of attention.

Rhythm holding steady, you stretched your neck to look at Chrissy as she emerged from the guest room wearing nothing but an intriguing smile and carrying a black silk drawstring bag.

From it, she produced a purple silicone toy and a bottle of lube. Your eyes widened at the sight, your abdomen tightening in anticipation as she brought it over to the couch and sat beside you.

It looked like a dildo, but a sort of double-ended one? It had a rounded bulb at one end shaped almost like an egg, tapering off and then flaring into a hump that would rest right on your clit. From there, it curved into a standard phallic shape of a shaft with a slightly enlarged head.

Chrissy squeezed some lube out onto her hand and thoroughly coated the bulb with it.

“This okay?” she asked, slowly rubbing the tip of the shorter end through your folds.

You pictured it in use—one end tucked snugly into your heat, the other sticking out between your legs. Chrissy sliding down on it sooooo slowly, the pressure building up inside of you like you were actually inside of her. Her hips rocking in that slow, leisurely pace she liked until it got to be too much and she had to go faster; had to grind her body into yours until you were thrusting your hips, pushing the toy deep inside her cunt until she cried out for you to make her come—

“Yes,” you whined, breathless as your mind filled with images so filthy you could hardly catch your breath. “Yes, I want you to ride me, please—”

Chrissy’s eyes gleamed, her gaze never dropping yours as she pressed the toy inside, making your mouth fall open in a gasp at the stretch.

Your folds fluttered around the bulb, sucking it deep inside while Chrissy made sure the other end was positioned correctly for her.

“You look so pretty with a purple cock, angel,” she cooed, dropping a delicate kiss to the tip that you swore you could actually feel.

You shimmied your hips, making the toy wobble slightly, gently batting Chrissy’s button nose with it and eliciting a delighted giggle from you both.

Above you, Eddie let out a low groan and the look on his face was nothing short of euphoric.

“Is, um…” he cleared his throat, a nervy sort of chuckle breaking through as his eyes followed the sight of your dick standing rigid between your legs. “Is that staying here, by chance?”

Your eyes met his and your brows raised almost to your hairline not with shock, but intrigue.

That’s new, you thought.

And seemingly reading your mind in the way he was so good at, Eddie’s lips curled upwards and he rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug.

As if to say, what the hell?

“Consider it an engagement present,” Chrissy tittered, squirting some more lube onto her palm and generously coating the shaft with it. “I’ll just take it for a test drive.”

Her eyes met yours and one of them closed in a slow wink, making electricity skitter down your whole body. You clenched around the end inside of you, humming as it pressed on your g-spot.

“You ready, angel?” Chrissy husked, her hand moving up and down your cock in the same unhurried pace yours was stroking Eddie’s.

Matching you stroke for stroke.

You nodded eagerly and then tipped your head backward to lock eyes with Eddie as you gave his cock a light and teasing squeeze, salivating at the thought of having his thick length in your mouth while Chrissy was bouncing on yours.

“How about you?” you asked him in a sultry purr. “You ready to watch me fuck her?”

And you thought you knew what Eddie might say. You thought he might come in close to growl something filthy in your ear about pounding her until she screams. Or whisper something soft and full of adoration about how sexy you were. Or whine pitifully about how much he needed you.

But Eddie said nothing. He just beamed down at you, chest filling with a surge of pride seeing you like this. Confidence just pouring out of you, your face glowing with it—completely radiant.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over, his mouth meeting yours in a hungry, devouring kiss. The kind of kiss that said in no uncertain terms:

You’re mine. You’re mine and I fucking love you.

He kissed you until your lungs ached for air, until your chest was heaving and you gasped into his mouth trying to breathe. Until at last, you broke apart when you couldn’t restrain the moan that burst out of you when the toy began to vibrate.

Your mouth fell open as you looked down at the thing like it just split in two like a hydra head.

The buzzing between your legs rippled across your g-spot, making it so you could barely keep your eyes open—your firm grasp on Eddie’s cock tightening instinctively. Eddie keeled forward with a loud groan and his hand landed on the cushion next to your hip trying to steady himself.

“Oh,” Chrissy smiled, swinging her leg across you and gripping the toy’s shaft to position the tip at her entrance. “Did I not mention it did that?”

That got a breathy laugh out of you all.

And then, just as she had sunk fully onto your length, a loud ringing filled the air and all three of you looked to the table. The egg timer you had all forgotten about had finally gone off—waaay past the supposed ten minute limit. Eddie gasped as he pointed an accusatory finger at Chrissy.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

Ty for reading - love you, mean it! 🛼

[honeytonedhottie]

getting it together⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍡

it feels GOOD to have all ur assignments done. to actively pursue ur dreams and goals. to be consistent and in turn -> see results. it feels good to give meaning to ur time and experience sustained satisfaction. this post will give an overview/guide of the BASICS of getting it together. that way whenever u get off track (cuz we're all human) u can easily reference this and get it TOGETHER.

SLEEP SCHEDULE - how does ur sleep schedule look? is it all over the place? fix it. the plan is to get between the range of 8-10 hours of sleep every single night (yes even on the weekends) and to wake up no later than 8 in the morning.

i recommend formulating a "get ready for bed" routine. mine is set with a soothing playlist, a cup of tea, and copious time for self care and meditating on my manifestations. ur night time routine is customizable to YOU, however the goal is to get away from screens or anything that'll tempt you to stay up at unhealthy hours.

THE MORNING ROUTINE - i think that the most influential and important time of the day is the morning. bcuz for me that sets the mood of my whole entire day, so i take my mornings SERIOUSLY and i think you should too.

for me in the morning, i do a light pilates workout/stretch to get my blood pumping, and i feel like it gives me such a boost of energy and sets the mood for the whole day so if u haven't tried i rly recommend working out in the morning. however since this post is for when you've gotten off track start SMALL. a short 5-10 minute stretch or pilates routine is more than enough.

THE IMPORTANCE OF GETTING READY - and i'll STAND ON THIS. even if ur not going anywhere at all that day, make an effort to get ready. make casual glamor a HABIT. getting ready is like, the best part of my day. its so therapeutic, something about the meticulous attention and the amount of time that i pour into myself it feels AMAZING. when u look good -> you feel good

A TO DO LIST - plan out ur week, plan out ur day, ur month. make a super cute calendar or agenda so that way you can get ur tasks done. im someone who needs super detailed instructions of what TO do, so when ik what im supposed to do i can get it done and i can get it done well. and instead of thinking of it as a to-do list, think of it as like a quest or something. tasks that u need to do and then -> you get something in return

ik it sounds rly dumb but sometimes when theres a mundane task that i know i must do, i imagine that im like a SIMS character who has no choice. or i imagine myself as a video game character who is doing it as a task cuz its part of the game. the point of me sharing that hot tip is to make it FUN for yourself. give urself something to look forward to afterwards too. like an episode of ur favorite drama, or a sweet treat.

CLEAN UP - a cluttered space = a cluttered mind. take 20 minutes aside everyday to tidy up so that then u can avoid the day-long cleaning on the weekend and actually enjoy it. when ur space is neat and organized, so is ur mind and it translates to how u view/respect urself. u show that you respect urself when u dwell in a place that it is neat and tidy.

PROPEL YOURSELF - when i've been rotting for a couple days, my go-to routine to propel myself back into my usual swing is : shower (an everything shower is a bit ambitious so go for it if u want) -> drink a COLDDD large glass of water -> do the process of getting ready and then do at least 3 tasks and 2 smaller tasks)

[sunnie-angel]

Come Home Soon

jason todd x gn!reader

rating: general | wc: 780

inspired by this ask

Jason Todd’s never really gotten over the shock of having you in his life. He pinches himself sometimes, just to check, uncertain sometimes that this is all real. That the neat way you’ve inserted yourself into his life isn’t just an errant daydream too perfect to be true. 8 months it’s been and the butterflies in his stomach are still alive as ever.

Gotham’s been more…chaotic than usual these past few weeks. Arkham’s latest breakout has been a shit show he’d never like to repeat, thank you very much. Jason’s been half dead on his feet from all the extra patrols he’s been doing at the Bats’ requests, damage control spilling into the small hours of the morning. It’s almost a relief then, when you get invited on a road trip out of town. For a little while the constant fear that he won’t be there, that danger will come scratching at your door while he is caught unawares in a different part of the city, will be put to rest.

He is happy, then, to see you off. Presses kisses to your cheeks and reminds you to call when you arrive with a smile on his face. The relief lasts the length of time it takes for your car to disappear into traffic. It dawns on him then, that this will be the longest time you’ve spent apart since he had worked up the trembling courage to ask you out. The apartment feels hollow, without you as its living, breathing heart. There’s no music playing in the kitchen and the side table by the couch isn’t littered with your forgotten cups of tea. Half of your products are gone from the bathroom, empty holes littering the countertop. Jason doesn’t realize how much space you occupy in his life by simply existing until all of that emptiness is staring back at him.

He wonders just how far you’ve driven by now. If you’d had to stop for extra gas and if you’d chosen a sweet or savoury snack for the last half of the journey. He wonders if you have a road trip playlist or if you’d mind making one together. The two of you don’t go driving in a car often, no, Jason prefers the wind of his bike and the warmth of you at his back too much. But he thinks that he might like making exceptions for you.

It’s bittersweet, then, thinking of your life without him. You wouldn’t be half so good with using a taser as you are now. Wouldn’t know the combinations and routes for a dozen contingency plans. As he sits in that apartment so changed by your influence and pictures you winding down some country road, he thinks about the ways he’s shaped your life. Gotham’s just one city in the grand scheme of the world but every moment you’re in it, your life is at risk. Not just because of your love for him, but any stray bullet or dose of fear toxin would take you away just the same. There’s whole countries out in the world that he knows you’d love that aren’t all trying to kill you in gruesome and horrible ways. More, if you go without him.

The vibrations of his phone in his pocket shake him from his reverie. It’s your contact photo, the one you’d stolen his phone to take, that smiles up at him.

“Hiya, baby!” your voice is more cheerful than he’d expected. “We just got in for the night, you wouldn’t believe how bad traffic was getting out of the city. Actually wait, you remember that…”

He doesn’t remember the anecdote, but he appreciates the sounds of your voice washing over him. For the first time all day, he feels settled in his skin. The apartment doesn’t feel so empty with your voice filling it.

“Oh and Jason, if Mrs. Dudek down at the market is selling packzi this weekend could you pick some up?” It’s the offhanded nature of your request that cements in his mind that you’re coming back. That you’ve always been planning to come back. It soothes that little part of him that still wonders if all of this will dissolve like spun sugar on the tongue. That for all the troubles he’s brought to your door, you still choose to come home to him.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, I’ll swing by and grab some if she’s there. No guarantee they’ll all still be in the box by the time you get back.”

“Get two boxes then, you pastry fiend.” you laugh, affection colouring your voice. “I miss you and I’ll be home soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he says simply.

[thequeensthroat]

it's bandcamp friday!!

today and every first friday of the month is Bandcamp Friday, a day where 100% of bandcamp revenue goes directly to artists without the platform taking its usual cut! today is a great day to look up if any of your favorite artists, or the artists on your spotify wrapped playlist, is on bandcamp and buy some of their albums or merch. you earn them $0.003 per spotify stream (if they're lucky) but you have the power to put a crisp $10 bill directly into their hand via bandcamp.

in summary:

so, what are you getting this bandcamp friday? I think I'm finally going to pull the trigger on joanna newsom's whole back catalogue.

[jelloapocalypse]

Hi! I guess it’s ask time? Just wanted to say I think you’re one of the funniest people on YouTube; I have a playlist called ‘Emergency Funny’ and like half of it is just your videos.

I’m wondering, when you’re cold-reading a line, like in those streams of voice acting a video game while playing it, what are the small details, if any, that you look to to figure out how to read the line? I’m continually amazed how you manage to have near perfect delivery while never having read the line before. Sorry if this is worded confusingly I legit don’t know how to phrase it

This was sent months ago, but it's actually a very good question and talking about this might help people who like to voice games on stream get better at doing that.

For context, this is about our "fully-voiced" game playthroughs where we cold read an entire video game out loud.

One small thing I try to do that helps is pressing the "advance dialogue button" when the person speaking is about 65-70% of the way through their line. That way, if the next line is from the same character the actor has a chance to read it smoothly as though the lines were not separated at all.

If it turns out to be a different actor's line, this gives the new actor more time to skim the words as well as extra time for them to realize they're about to be speaking so they don't get caught off guard.

Doing this is actually kind of hard because every actor we work with reads at a different pace and the person actually playing the game has to keep that in mind. Oz, Vixen, Arim, and I can sight read most lines almost instantly. I've seen Oz and Vixen in particular read entire text boxes that were only onscreen for a couple frames. But, obviously, not everyone is that fast, so everyone gets different "advance the dialogue" speeds.

Ideally, if a game is well-written and the characters you're playing have a strong voice, you'll slowly fade into the character as you read them. You begin to feel the things they're saying rather than just reading words on a page. Once you hit that flow state, it becomes easier to process what they might logically say next. If you notice one of us make 2-3 errors in the span of just a few lines, it means we're probably not in that flow state.

Some games are also much easier to scan than others, usually because of their character poses.

A game like In Stars and Time has such incredible character portraits that you can usually tell the tone of the accompanying line within a few frames of a portrait change.

Loop (above) is an extremely suspicious and weird character, but voicing them was so much fun because I could always rely on the portraits and the font changes in the text to give me direction on how to play them accurately, even though I didn't actually know what their deal was until about halfway through our playthrough.

Coffee Talk also has very strong portraits that react in real time to the lines of dialogue. The framing can push characters smaller or larger in focus depending on how upset or meek they are, so it's very easy to react on sight and adjust accordingly.

Every time a game developer takes the time to painstakingly add portraits that match every single line, every time they add SFX to accentuate certain words, every time a font wiggles to tell you someone is speaking in a sing-songy way, that's all direction that the game's creators are giving you.

Another thing that helps is just media literacy. I think everyone on the channel is pretty good at that because, speaking frankly, I don't like hanging out with people who have bad media literacy, lmao.

The more media you consume, the easier it becomes to know how a story is going to go. Even a really well-written mystery usually has only 3-5 real options for an ending, and while you're reading games aloud it's a good practice to consider all of them equally so your reads make sense no matter what. You'll notice it's pretty rare something takes us entirely by surprise in a read-through.

Also, of note, it's much easier to notice specific foreshadowing and word choice in dialogue when you're reading it aloud as opposed to silently skimming.

A solid example is our fully-voiced playthrough of Trails From Zero, which actually happened on SurpriseRoundRPG a few years back and not my own Twitch or YouTube.

Minor spoilers, but the character above, Ernest, has some antagonistic interactions with your main party over the course of this game. He wants Ellie, the white-haired party member, to quit the police force (that's your group) and go back to working with him in the Mayor's office.

When Arim played this game solo he didn't really think much of this guy. However, when he played the game for us and we read it out loud, having lines like the one pictured above spoken aloud makes it kind of impossible not to notice that this man is a freak. Mo, his VA, ended up playing him as a manosphere incel weirdo because that's the vibe he was putting out, and, lo and behold, that's pretty much exactly the character he turned out to be.

There's a running theme on our channel where commenters are often surprised to see the game "play into our bits" and how we "accidentally predict things".

What's really happening is the reverse.

It's very, very rare that we decide to make up a bit from absolutely nothing. It's not a hard and fast rule, but I find we only make jokes and play up aspects of characters based on things that are already there. Hence that one time in Miles is a Robot when I said something awful and sexual as Ray Shields, Oz groaned, and I said "Hey man, I'll give him a different joke when the game gives me somethin' else to work with!" I didn't choose to make Ray awful and sexual all the time. That's just how he is, so that's the well we pulled bits from.

Because we only extrapolate from existing content and our "silly" versions of the characters onscreen are just exaggerated versions of what's really there, whenever the game gives us more info about them, the new stuff tends to be very in-line with the bits we've already been doing. It's not us being psychic. It's us being consistent!

It also helps that almost all the regulars on my channel have done professional voice work and have been doing some version of this for literally 10+ years. Practice makes perfect!

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (2)

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: 15.9k / 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 one (wc: 14.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)

note: yaaay full fic is out 🥹💕 i’ve been so attached to these two for the past month i’m gonna miss them sm :( reblogs and feedback are appreciated i’d love to hear your thoughts 🥺 p.s. it does get pretty heavy so pls take care of urself while reading 🫂 hugs and kisses

—

jungkook lets out a big yawn, removing his glasses so he can wipe off the sleepy tears from his eyes. his phone pings with new text messages and he peers down at the table to read them. 

  01:18am

stop texting.

why are you still awake? you have that big presentation tomorrow. 

you need your brain functioning at full capacity so you can answer the prof’s questions.

he types out his response.

  01:20am

i want to sleep too but i’m not yet done practicing 🥲

if you’re on a mission to make him fall hopelessly in love, it would be safe to say that you’re succeeding. instead of being a distraction, here you are showing concern for his health and motivating him about his studies. he’s not used to having this kind of dynamic with the people he likes. usually he’d be stubborn and stay on his phone, but he puts it down so he can refocus on his slides. he’s excited to do his presentation well and gush about it with you at the end of the day.

twenty minutes later, a rapping at the door disrupts his concentration. 

“he better not be drunk.” he grumbles on his way to the door.

no one else would disturb him at this time but taehyung. 

but it’s not taehyung.

it’s you. 

“i didn’t wake you, did i?” 

“no, no- i was still-” he takes a glimpse at his messy desk. “practicing for the presentation… uhm, i thought you were at work?”

“we don’t have work today.”

you nonchalantly bring out a glass full of green goop from your back, encouraging him to take it.

“here, drink this.”

he stares at it in bewilderment as he slowly accepts it. “what’s this?”

“bedtime smoothie.” 

you sense his disgust and foreboding.

“there’s bananas and cherry juice in there.”

that knowledge emboldens him to take a sip. he licks off the mustache it leaves on top of his lips. “hmm, not bad!” 

“i told you so.” you send him a tight-lipped smile which disappears in two seconds. “do you want some help practicing?”

“oh, that’s right.” his eyes widen. “you’re good at speaking!”

he steps aside so you can pass through the narrow entrance. 

“please come in.”

jungkook is compelled to make himself clear. he hasn’t invested on a shelf. never found the time. his room may look like a mess to an outsider’s eyes but he has an organized system and he’s incredibly resourceful. 

“jungkook… you can’t live like this.”

is it that bad?

his jaw slacks when you pick up a plastic bag on the floor and begin throwing in the scattered empty cans and bottles of caffeine on and around his desk, including the one he hasn’t finished drinking yet. that— he won’t win defending.

“you’ll die at this rate.” you rebuke him calmly. “do you even drink water?” 

“of course i do!” he proceeds to drink the smoothie you made for him. “but you drink a lot of coffee too.”

“not anymore,” you head to his fridge after dumping the plastic bag in the trash. “i’m already adjusted to my job… i’m taking these.”

you bring out the two remaining cans of energy drinks and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie. 

“you can’t just take them!”

you ignore his protest. “is the smoothie good? you like it, right?”

his shoulders deflate in defeat. he takes another gulp and swallows, nodding happily. “i like it.” 

“then i’ll make you an energy-boosting one when you need it. i received fruit baskets at work. they’d only go bad if i try to eat everything alone.” 

“sounds like a sweet deal,” he grins. 

he’s definitely not complaining. the artificial flavoring of the energy drinks pale in comparison to the real thing. 

“okay, let’s get started then.” you pad over to his desk. 

you hand him his laptop which is displaying his powerpoint before making yourself comfortable on his chair. 

he stands infront of you awkwardly. “we’re really doing this?”

“we are,” you reply curtly, sinking further into the chair. it’s a pretty big chair, even for him. it’s endearing to see you play around with it. “are you nervous? you can’t be nervous.”

“i’m not,” he lies. “i’m a professional!” 

you have no idea that you make him more nervous than having forty other people in the same room. 

he sighs. “hold this for me then.”

you take the glass into your hands, sipping a little. he clears his throat and pretends that didn’t affect him at all. 

“okay, let’s start… good mor-”

“wait-” you shake your head, demandingly waving your hand to the right. “wrong slide.”

—

 

“where are you? i thought you were going to help me with my project?” 

jimin, a friend he met through a school organization two years ago, begins coughing dramatically over the phone. “jungkook, i’m sorry. i’m feeling under the weather.”

jungkook grimaces, stopping on his tracks to berate him. “hyung, i can hear the dj music!”

“ah, yes…” he can practically hear the wheels in jimin’s brain turn. “actually, i’m about to leave the club! since i’m not feeling so well.”

“wow,” he huffs out a laugh. “you’re really terrible.”

“i’m serious! let’s reschedule tomorrow. i’ll buy you dinner so we can catch up too.” 

“fine,” he blows a loud breath. 

“i love you, jungkook-ah.” jimin proclaims with exaggerated affection. 

he makes a noise of disgust. “you’re really drunk.”

“oh, why aren’t you saying it back?” jimin angrily questions him. 

“maybe i will, after you buy me food.” 

“okay,” jimin cackles. “i’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“okay, goodbye.”

he drops the call, still uncertain whether jimin was lying or not. either way, he gets a free meal and he no longer feels the need to complain.

he shrugs and continues his journey home. 

that is until he inhales the unmistakable scent of smoke from the alleyway. 

again, it could be anybody, but there’s a peculiar feeling that won’t let him move forward. deja vú is what they call it. it is often described as bittersweet, but jungkook is nervous. scared even. 

he doesn’t want his gut feeling to be right. 

he knows what your sobs sound like, their effect on him and his heart that is awfully weak when it comes to you, but he wants to be wrong so badly. 

right then and there, jungkook faces a dilemma.

those who hide do not want to be found. 

he has the choice to keep walking, pretend that he was never here. that it doesn’t hurt him to walk away. he can do what he failed to do the first time and not jump in to interpret your crying as a cry for help. 

he stands there like a fool waiting for the stars to spell out the correct answer for him to read. 

unfortunately for him, life doesn’t work that way and there isn’t even one to wish upon. 

you flicked his forehead and erased his memories. if he makes the same mistake twice, then maybe he can use that as an excuse to lessen the burden of regret. 

—

 

you flinch and lift your head in fear when something bumps against your knee, but that fear soon morphs into an entirely new fear when you perceive the person sitting infront of you. 

your bloodshot eyes make out jungkook’s features in the dim light. 

you’re no stranger to that look. you know what you look like. the cigarette tastes terrible, it doesn’t smell better with liquor either. there are teardrops on the ground and your sobs are caught in your throat and they come out as hiccups. you wouldn’t even dare to call yourself a mess, because scattered pieces of a broken whole float on the surface and sometimes miraculously wash ashore. you’re at the rock bottom being eaten alive and you’re not going anywhere else. 

“just walk away,” you croak out, pushing him away with the hand not holding the cigarette. 

he doesn’t budge. you don’t know if it’s because you’re too weak or he’s too strong. 

“i can’t leave you like this.” 

“you can,” you argue. 

“you don’t have to be alone. i’m here.” 

he holds your arms, coaxing you to recognize the sincerity in his eyes. those wide doe eyes, always shining when you reflect on their irises. you wish they could stay that way forever. you wish you could be at peace with that. 

“you can confide in me. you can use me. whatever you need to feel better. ____, please.” 

“you can’t help me.” you bluntly assert. before he begins begging. before he says more swoon-worthy words that would break down the walls you’ve built. “i appreciate the thought, but nothing you can do will make this better.” 

god knows that you’re yearning to hear them, but you still don’t know how much of it you can trust.  

“maybe i can!” he interjects. desperately. his grip on you tightens a little. it steadies your body as your mind and heart fall apart, but you feel suffocated. 

“jungkook, i don’t want to fight right now.” 

“if you just let me try, ____. i’m here for you. i swear i won’t pass judgement or-”  

“you can’t! okay? you can’t!” you break down, uncontrollable sobs making your words less coherent. “you’re just wasting your time!” 

with every morsel of strength you have left, you force yourself to stand up. an unnamed object clatters on the ground and you shove jungkook to the ground without meaning to. 

a combination of hurt and shock flashes across his face. you become racked with guilt.

however, this is what you wanted. this is for the best. you’re supposed to live a quiet life and not get too close with anyone, but you don’t cause a person this type of pain, and you don’t feel this guilty about it, if your hearts were never intertwined. 

you should be the one to walk away. 

every step you take to escape from him is heavy. you’re confused by the contradictions between your mind and heart and the last thing you need right now is confusing. what else can you do but run? 

jungkook wraps his arms around you from behind, stopping you on your tracks. 

“what are you doing?” 

the world stops for a little while.

“let g- let me go!” 

you struggle out of his embrace, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed he let you go so easily. 

“you think a hug’s going to make me feel better and fix my life? are you that naive…? wow, i envy you. if it was that easy, i wouldn’t be at this fucking dumpster with you!”

maybe you’re even angry that he did, pounding away at his chest with rigid fists to break his heart too. your throat is painful and rough from screaming but the thought of losing your voice doesn’t occur to you. apparently, you don’t care that you’re burning your lungs either. the world may very well end at this moment because that’s what it feels like. you have nothing left to lose but this vessel— and this vessel is heavy, worn-out, and incurable. 

you’re an overflowing sink of adrenaline rush, shaking and tearing apart at the seams.

“i never would’ve ruined my hair with this- this stupid color. i wouldn’t be getting cursed at by bigoted strangers because they hate my accent…” 

your forehead collapses on jungkook’s chest. a string of sobs follow the words that were forcefully uttered against your better judgment. you would’ve been fine after a smoke and a good cry, not processing anything so you can settle with being numb instead of jaded. 

“i’d still be studying. i’d become a doctor. i wouldn’t give a fuck about fishes and what they can and can’t eat.” 

—

 

for the first time, your laugh stabs him in the chest instead of making his heart flutter. 

“i’d be living a good life not being bombarded by someone who-” you hit his chest with every word spoken with gritted teeth. “wants to be the fucking hero. i don’t need you!” 

there’s no way. you don’t mean that. you’re just angry. jungkook convinces himself in his head as he openly takes the hits. he did say you could confide in him—use him—and you’re doing it right now. he just didn’t know he’d have to grow thicker skin on the spot to be what you need.

your icy glare pierces through him and renders him motionless. 

“you can’t do anything, so please, don’t feel bad for me.” you sneer. “it’s making me feel bad for you.” 

—

 

you’ve stormed off and jungkook stays right where you left him, wiping away his tears. the last time he cried was when his ex-girlfriend broke up with him. that was over a year ago, it only dawns on him now. 

you’ve been the only person in his mind since that one sunny june day. 

where he stands, the autumn winds are getting colder and the winter is fast approaching. 

just as fast your lives were weaved into a blooming wildflower did it also begin to wither. 

jungkook does want to save you, but he doesn’t want to be a hero. after all the time you’ve spent together, do you sincerely see him as someone who values self-interest most of all? the truth did come out, the snide truth, a bitter pill he can’t swallow. you don’t want to be here. he can’t save you. it can’t be possible when he’s part of the picture you can’t stomach to look at. 

“hyung,” he tries to be strong but his voice wavers, echoing the wretched state of him. “are you still at the club?” 

“i’ll turn on my location.” jimin responds without question, which jungkook is thankful for. “call me when you’re near. be safe, got it?”

“yes, hyung,” he ends the call. 

he inhales sharply, hoping that would alleviate the weight on his chest and allow him to move his feet. the heavy smell of burnt chemicals still hangs in the air. even after everything, he’s envious of the discarded stick of drug on the ground for having touched your lips. 

jungkook turns to leave, but is interrupted by a small object caught underneath his shoe. he picks it up for inspection— a blue lighter hand painted with a goldfish. 

he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

—

 

you woke up with a pounding headache, burdened with immense regret you assume. you deserve it. you don’t remember the exact words you said but you only scream when you don’t know what you’re talking about. you pushed away the only person who cared enough to sit with you in the dark. the line between right and wrong is blurring. you don’t know what you’re doing with your life anymore, if you’re doing anything so that it could be heading somewhere.  

you thought life couldn’t possibly get worse, but here you are anxiously nibbling at your nails as you wait for a man to reply to your texts because you’re scared of losing him.

  08:25am

jungkook i'm sorry about what happened last night i never meant to act that way and hurt you. i was out of my mind

i know you really care about me and i'm grateful for that

please forgive me

  09:13am

[attached image]

you gaze wistfully into the aquarium. the fishes swim around with considerably more energy after their breakfast, and it drives you to wonder if jungkook fed them dinner. last night was the first night you received no messages from jungkook, not even an image alone. 

“i think i fucked it up with your dad.”  

you spot dahlia, and clementine, and coral, and tangerine… blissfully unaware of you drowning in misery.

accordingly, the wildcard emerges from the shipwreck. it swims to you, the glass acting as the barrier that prevents it from kissing your nose. 

it doesn’t do this to jungkook, so you like to think that you’re special. you feel guilty that you failed to treat it the same.

“poor thing,” you hang your head in shame, sniffling. “we haven’t even named you yet.”

—

 

you learned from the new security guard on the night shift that jungkook requested for her to take over feeding for the meantime. three more days pass without any sign or trace of him, and yet you still send him your good morning pictures and you hang out at the lobby waiting for him to come home. 

he has to come home soon. 

he still lives here… right?

  11:47pm  

how long will you ignore me?  

where are you? i'll come to you   

please, let’s talk

 

you jolt on your seat when your phone vibrates with a ping!

  12:01am

jungkook:

meet me at the rooftop

 

you are charged with joy and relief as much as confusion. 

there’s… a rooftop? 

—

 

you stand at the door staring at jungkook’s back, gathering all courage to face him despite your shame eating away at you.

“i didn’t know tenants were allowed here.”

“we’re not,”

he looks back at you, and surprisingly enough, his charming smile melts away your anxiety. you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or bad thing. it’s not right for you to fall in love.

“why are you still standing there?” he chuckles. he sits on a low table with his legs crossed, feet tucked beneath his thighs. he pats the space next to him. “here, sit.” 

with a nod, you close the door behind you. you sit beside him, but with considerable distance, like the first time you sat next to each other. 

“the view is quite nice.”

in consideration of the time, you didn’t expect so many lights. they look like shining stars from where you are, only that you can actually reach for them if you try. you even spot a ferris wheel. although, you’re not certain if it’s from the amusement park jungkook works at.

“it is, isn’t it?”

“do you go up here often?”

“not since the aquarium became our spot.” 

our spot.

you smile to yourself, eyes falling on your lap as you mindlessly fiddle with your fingers. 

“i’m sorry… for what happened.” you pause to swallow the lump in your throat, breathing shakily. 

as ever, it’s difficult to apologize to someone and agree that there are dispensable parts of you. you’re scared that you might cry again infront of him. it never ends well. 

“i-i was having a bad day, and i didn’t want to drag you down with me. but i got overwhelmed by my emotions and i said words i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that. i’m sorry.” 

“hey, i understand.” he replies kindly. “it’s also my fault.”

“no, it’s not.” you jump in, not being able to stand him taking blame. “you’re a really good person, jungkook.”

he shakes his head. “i should’ve backed off when you told me to leave.” 

“but i do like being with you.” 

“and you mean that?”

he gazes at you with those endearing doe eyes. you look somewhere else to quell the funny feeling in your heart. 

“of course i do.”

jungkook crosses the distance between you, teasingly bumping his shoulder against yours. “i like being with you too.”

just an hour ago you thought you’d lost him, now he’s here effortlessly making you laugh. perhaps you do take life too seriously, submissive to fear. you weren’t always like this. you wish you could unlearn the new way that you function. 

“so do you forgive me or should i grovel more?” 

“i forgive you.” he rolls his eyes. “i’m not that mean.” 

“apparently i’m the mean one between us.”

“you are,” he chuckles, leaning back and balancing himself with his hands anchored behind on the table. 

for some sick reason, this new position of his leaves you hot and bothered. thankfully, you’ve mastered the art of maintaining a calm demeanor. albeit, it’s not always that you use it for this reason.

“you seriously hurt my feelings back there, you know that?”

“i’m so sorry. i’m really, really sorry.” you apologize more expressively within the more comfortable space the both of you created. “…when is your birthday?”

his forehead wrinkles in confusion at the random question. “why?”

“you’re my friend.” you point out. “we should know these things at least.”

“it’s on september one.” 

“what?!” 

he blinks innocently. “what?” 

“it’s already november!” you point out, taken aback by the fact that you totally missed it. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“you were busy with work. besides, it wasn’t a big deal. i just had beer and meat with my friends.” he shrugs, brushing it off. “when’s yours?”

you rise on your feet, dust off your bottom, and begin marching towards the door.

“where are you going…? yah, ____!”

“i need to do something.” you vaguely inform him, waving your hand. “stay there! wait for me!” 

—

 

“what’s taking so long?” jungkook thinks out loud, scratching his head. 

it’s been fifteen minutes since you left. you couldn’t have forgotten about him already, could you? that might hurt him worse than when you were screaming and punching his chest. he slept over at taehyung’s dorm for a few nights, hoping to find some peace and clarity within a different space, but he was pretty much ready to forgive you when you texted him to apologize, then followed it up with a photo of coral eating. however, taehyung went on and on about his wounded pride, and maybe he did want to see you grovel and feel that he is at some level of importance to you. 

he perks up when the door opens and your head pops out of nowhere, peeking. when did you put on a cap and face mask? did you go out? anyway, you’re so cute, he gushes to himself. 

“close your eyes!” 

“why would i do that?”

“just do it!” you demand with an angry pout. 

“okay, okay- fine!” he surrenders. “i’m closing them now.” 

“no peeking. i see your eyelashes moving.”

“how do you even see from there?!” 

he hears your scoff and the clicking of your shoes as you walk. “you’re not sleek, you know?” 

a series of rustling. a mystery object placed on the table. he gets a whiff of your perfume, powdery and fruity sweet, the next second, you’re tying a silk scarf over his eyes. 

“what’s happening?” he laughs nervously. 

he knows that is not what’s happening, but the impure thoughts enter his mind anyway. 

“i need a minute.” 

you sit beside him, your knee bumping against his. he hears more movements take place. 

“can i remove it now?”

“i said a minute.”

he frowns impatiently. “a minute has passed though.”

“no, it hasn’t.” you counter. “now hush and cover your ears.”

“cover my ears?” he repeats to make sure he heard you correctly.

“yes!”

“why?” he whines. “what is this about?”

“just do it, please?” you plead with him sweetly, covering his ears with your hands as if to demonstrate. 

and since he’s already too deep into this, he obeys your third instruction. he puts his hands over yours, and then you slip away, leaving him covering his ears the way that you wanted. 

“okay, you can look now!”

jungkook removes the scarf over his eyes, and discovers a sight so beautiful, he wants to cry that he can’t permanently capture it in a polaroid. 

this is the first time he’s seeing you in this light, the warm orange glow of birthday candles that paints you spellbinding golden. you’re beaming at him, with a rare smile that reaches your eyes, as you hold up a round chocolate cake topped by fresh strawberries.  

just when he thought it was impossible to fall in love with you harder, you begin singing the happy birthday song. instead of clapping, you sway your body ever so slowly and gracefully. what is arguably considered the jolliest song on earth, you transform into a soft lullaby— the kind that flies you to the night sky and tucks you into bed on the moon, gathers the fluffy clouds and handcrafts them into pillows and a blanket. your voice is light and delicate, sweet as candy. it is an instrument on its own and you do not need anything else. he never knew you were a good singer.

“happy birthday, dear jungkook~ happy birthday to you…” 

this is his best birthday yet, and it’s not even his actual birthday. 

jungkook is stupidly and hopelessly in love with you. 

he welcomes doom, hangs its coat, and pours it a hot cup of tea. 

“i hope you like chocolate. i fought someone for this.” you shyly confess with a laugh. “turns out there’s not many bakeries open at midnight.”

he is speechless. 

his gaze falls on your lap for a moment, where lies an opened plastic clamshell container, two strawberries too small compared to the ones decorating the cake. on the table, a fruit knife sits on top of the cake box. 

you even decorated the bare sides of the cake with half strawberries. he doesn’t think he has seen someone do that yet.  

“i- i like it so much.” he stutters. “you made the cake so pretty.” 

“thank you!” you beam at the compliment. “okay, time to make a wish.” 

he panics a little. he doesn’t know if it’s only a personal or perhaps a universal thing, but he tends to feel pressured when he has to make a birthday wish. he always wants a lot of things. 

“five candles means ‘i’m sorry and happy birthday’ by the way.”

but there is five candles, so maybe he is free to be greedy this time. 

he slowly flutters his eyes shut, and he takes his time to think. after whispering his wish to the universe, he blows out all of the candles. 

“what did you wish for?” 

there is five candles, but he only wished for one thing. 

“if i tell you…” he begins, transfixed eyes tracing down to your lips. “will you make it come true?” 

they part slightly as your chest begins to heave, cranberry stained and inviting. 

he yearns, he craves. he doesn’t want to live with regrets, haunted by the what if’s. all or nothing. you deserve his all. he surrenders everything to your court for the touch of your lips. 

are you thinking what he’s thinking? do you feel the way he does? 

tell him he’s not the only one losing his mind. please. 

and when your eyes lock, there is a palpable electricity none of you can deny. 

“it’s for your birthday. you don’t have to ask.” 

again, the best birthday ever.

without another word, he crosses the short distance, pressing his lips against yours. 

there is no fireworks like in the movies and fairytales. instead, he gets flashes of memories in his mind. all those awkward and comfortable moments, stolen glances, blushing and stuttering, captured images, sleepless nights, tears shed. even the bitter memories inserted make this kiss much sweeter. it’s infinitely better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

he removes his hand tenderly cupping your cheek, also the other that is anchored on the table, blindly searching until he successfully engulfs your delicate hands in his. he holds them, and the board carrying the cake, tightly. 

when you smile against his lips, so does he. you give him a firm peck, so hot that he almost falters on his seat, before breaking away. 

“let’s put this aside first.” you giggle, guiding your restless hands to set it down on the table. “you have chocolate all over your hand.” 

jungkook can hear you, but he’s not listening. he immediately goes for your lips again, and ends up sorely disappointed when you dodge him. 

“whoa, wait. you’ll smear chocolate on my face-”

“you said i don’t have to ask.” he argues.

you narrow your eyes at him.

he hurries with a solution. “i’ll keep my hands behind my back.” and true to his words, he acts as if his hands have been cuffed. 

“that works,” you shrug. 

he is to blame for his nasty torture when you drag yourself closer to him, draping your legs over his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

you’re practically sitting on his lap and he can’t touch you with his dirty hands. ridiculous.

there is the urge to complain, then lost and forgotten after you seal his lips with yours. he is the luckiest man on earth tonight.

—

 

“will you stay the night?”

jungkook’s cheeks are beginning to ache, but he can’t stop smiling for the life of him. how could he not? you’re lying on his bed, and this time you’re both under the covers. it can’t be more perfect than this, the way you’re mirroring each other. he’s admiring your face and you haven’t averted your eyes from his either. 

at this moment, it feels like nothing else in the world matters.

“if i’m being honest, i’m still scared of the ghost.”

“is he bothering you again?” he quirks an eyebrow, prepared to brawl with a bothersome spirit. he is suddenly aware that the lamp is the only source of light in the apartment. “do we turn on another light?”

“no,“ you chuckle at his reaction. “but he appeared in my dream once after that.”

“what about me?”

“you?” you send him a puzzled look.

he grins toothily. “do i appear in your dreams?”

that earns him a sarcastic roll of the eyes. 

“why is it suddenly about you?”

“i’m helping you get your mind off the ghost!”

“can we just… i don’t know…” you avoid his intense gaze, chewing on your bottom lip. “cuddle?”

this is real, right? he isn’t hallucinating? 

he already made out with you until the two of you couldn’t breathe. surely, cuddling is nothing compared to that… but he has pined for you for months. going from zero to a hundred is giving him emotional motion sickness. like a rollercoaster, but arguably more dangerous. and he shamelessly lives for that. 

“oh, so you got mad at me last week for hugging you but now you want to cuddle?” he mocks humorously. 

“change is the only constant in life.” you say as a matter of fact.

and jungkook isn’t very fond of that knowledge, but if it led you to his arms tonight, then he can try to make peace with it. 

he spreads his arms, and you push yourself close with an arm over his waist, until you’re properly hugging him and he has your body cocooned with his. 

he breathes out a sigh. this is heaven.

“so? have you dreamt of me?”

you make a noise of protest, cheek squished against his chest.

“come on, humor me.” he coaxes you into revelation. “it’s my birthday.”

“…we went on a ferris wheel once.“

“really? were we on a date?”

“i don’t remember.”

“what were we doing?” he continues poking.

“i don’t remember.”

“that’s it?” he grumbles. “you must remember something else.”

you giggle. “it was a long time ago, jungkook.”

“and you didn’t dream of me again after that?”

“stop,” you draw back just enough to see his face. “we have more important things to discuss.” 

jungkook gulps nervously. 

more important things like what? the meaning of that kiss…? um, kisses? the label of your relationship? are you really bringing it up right away like this? he imagined he would be the one to do it. 

“there’s one fish left without a name.”

oh… his face falls. 

“have you thought of one?”

“i have, but…” you jut out your bottom lip. “don’t we decide together?” 

beneath the stoic demeanor you parade around wearing, he realizes that you’re just like everybody else, craving to be held and to spend quality time with someone who makes you feel special. 

he doesn’t hold back on kissing you.

“we will!” he pinches your cheek, which brings out your smile. “i’ll tell you what i think.”

“that goldfish actually reminds me of you.”

“really?” 

you nod eagerly.

“how so?” 

“the both of you,” you giggle. “always follow me around.”

his jaw falls slack, not expecting to be called out like that. you’re having fun with the fact that he’s wrapped around your finger, huh?

“so you want to name it after me?” 

“something like that, but let’s make your name sound cute.”

you hum as the gears in your brain turn. on the other hand, jungkook is not thinking at all, he’s memorizing your face. maybe it’s an artist’s sickness aggravated when faced with the apple of their eye. 

“jung… kook…” you take a long pause, lips left in the shape ‘O’ due to the pronunciation of his name. “kook…?”

“you know, i do get called jungkookie sometimes.”

“jungkookie…?” you slowly repeat the nickname. 

seconds later, your face lights up. 

“then how about kookie? cookie but with-” you draw the letter into the thin air using your index finger. “a ‘k’?” 

jungkook is relieved that you instantly put two and two together. he didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. honestly, rather than a cute vibe, he’s going for the manly vibe. 

“it sounds so cute. what do you think?”

“i think so too!” 

as long as it makes you look this happy, he’d accept any name that you come up with. 

“okay, it’s official.” you return to cuddling up to him. “i can sleep peacefully from now on.” 

was that bothering you? you truly do care for them. he thinks you might care more than he does. 

“let’s sleep…” 

before closing his eyes, he plants an affectionate kiss on top of your head. the truth is he doesn’t want to sleep. if it was up to him, this moment would stretch into forever. as you slip into unconsciousness, he tries his damn hardest to resist it. he yawns, wipes his sleepy tears dry on the pillowcase, caresses your hair and forces his hand to move again when it falls on the bed. 

“jungkook?” 

he hears your voice in its tiniest form yet.

you’re still awake? 

he barely is anymore.

“mhmm?”

“i really am,” he feels a light tug at the back of his shirt, your weak hand forming a closed fist. “sorry.”

—

 

jungkook wakes up at 5am with his stomach grumbling for food. your positions shifted throughout the night and he lies there cuddling you from behind, spending five minutes or so dwelling on regrets. he pictures the cake in the fridge, still in pristine condition, and how different it could’ve been if he didn’t stop himself after three stolen strawberries. 

after that, he thinks about breakfast. rolled omelette would be amazing right now. he just stocked up on side dishes too. only problem is he forgot to buy eggs. 

who goes to the supermarket and somehow manages to miss the whole egg section? 

jeon jungkook, apparently. 

a challenge arises: getting out of bed without waking you up. he isn’t a novice, but he isn’t exactly an expert either. he figures it’s just based on luck, and he’s… very unlucky.

he manages to slip out the arm you’re using as a pillow, replacing it with a real one hoping that you wouldn’t notice the difference in your sleep. a second later and you’re already stretching out your limbs. 

“where are you going?” you utter raspily, swollen eyes from sleep peering at him.

“out- to buy eggs for breakfast.” he replies in a low voice.

you start to harshly rub off the sleep from your eyes. 

“i’ll go with you.”

“there’s no need.” he strokes your hair gently. “sleep more.”

you shake your head stubbornly. “i need to buy something too.”

you drag yourself off of the bed before he can stop you. from your toes down to the heel, you slightly stumble when your feet touch the ground.

“i’ll brush my teeth.”

—

 

once you and jungkook step out of the building, you both find that it’s still before sunrise, but the street lamps are already turned off. everything under the sky is washed with a shade of blue. it feels almost illegal to be here with no other souls walking the streets, but you can breathe a little easier, and you’re warm because jungkook is holding your hand inside the pocket of his jacket. 

what was supposed to be a stolen glance turns into an enamored gaze.

“you look pretty.” 

“so do you,” the two corners of your mouth lift into a quick, shy smile. 

“yah, jungkook!”

that’s taehyung’s voice.

his best friend approaches from the opposite direction, a pomeranian on a leash waddling and wagging its tail beside him. despite the distance, jungkook can already see his smirk poking fun at him. 

count on him to disrupt a perfectly romantic and peaceful moment.

as soon as they meet halfway, jungkook shows him a grimace. 

“what are you doing here?” 

“to return your camera,” he waves the silver film camera, its strap wrapped around his wrist. “i’m taking tannie on a walk so i decided i’d bring it over.”

“okay, give it and go on your way.” 

jungkook snatches it from him, wearing the camera around his wrist as the rightful owner. 

when taehyung finally sets his sight on you, jungkook’s fear of embarrassment instantly kicks in. if he says something stupid, he swears to god— he lets go of your hand in favor of putting his arm around your shoulder, gently tugging you closer to him. 

“you must be ____!” taehyung snaps his fingers when he, at last, recalls your name, which jungkook knows he’s grown tired of hearing. “nice to meet you! i’m taehyung.” 

“ah, yes…”

jungkook senses your awkwardness. he presses his lips into a thin line, sending his best friend a threatening glare that screams ‘i know i’m a hypocrite, but don’t embarrass me.’

“it’s nice to meet you too.” you offer him a polite bow. 

“yeontan seems to like you a lot.” taehyung laughs, gesturing at his dog who is nuzzling its face against your shin. 

jungkook also smiles in endearment. that’s another animal drawn to you for some unknown reason. he can’t say he’s surprised. 

“does he bite?” you cautiously ask.

“no, he’s nice. you can pet him.” 

you nod, bending down to gingerly scratch yeontan’s fluffy ears. “hello, yeontan.” you quietly greet him with a voice so sweet. 

“honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?” 

“must be when she rode the dreamboat before.”

“i don’t think that’s it though?” taehyung tilts his head, still racking his memories for your face. “i think i saw her more recently, but maybe not with pink hair.”

you stiffen beside jungkook, knees going weak out of the blue. you straighten up, but you keep your head slightly bowed down, hair falling over your face. 

“that’s impossible. maybe it was someone who looks like her.” 

“ah, maybe,” 

taehyung rubs the back of his neck, giving in to the theory.

“alright then, tannie is getting hyper.” he snorts at his pet trying to run away but is held back by its leash. “see you around, ____! i’ll see you at work, bro!” 

“sorry about that.” jungkook intertwines your fingers again. “let’s go.”

he moves forward, and you get left behind. 

“____?”

his concern grows when he observes your despondent body language. 

“are you okay?” 

“huh? oh- i’m okay.” 

you snap out of it, but as you walk to the convenience store together, jungkook gets the impression that something is weighing on your mind. 

—

 

jungkook watches you move around the store through the viewfinder of his camera, zooming in on your face when you whip your head around. it fails to capture the countless packs of lozenges you’re hugging to your chest.

“miss ____, who are you buying so many candies for?” 

you blink down at them before innocently staring back at the camera. “they’re for my co-workers. it’s flu season so many of them are getting sick.” 

—

with the sun returning to reign over the vast sky, the shade of blue has been replaced by an orange hue. the two of you walk back to your apartment building in silence. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, if it’s his fault or not, but your mood changed after your encounter with taehyung. 

you’ve decided you want some space and jungkook respects that. the entire time, he thinks about how his hand feels empty without yours. is he being paranoid? he feels like he’s already woken up from a dream too good to be true, crafted out of his greatest fantasies, and he’s going to be thrust into a nightmare— learning that none of it was real. this endless push and pull with you, he’s grown to be somewhat ill at ease in your presence. 

he wants it to go away. 

he moves closer, content with the mere brush of the back of your fingers against his, but that small pleasure is robbed from him when you pull your hand away. 

“let’s stop here.” 

the decisive tone of your voice instantly fills him with dread. 

you turn to face him, and he searches your eyes for any trace of emotion. sadness, or fear, or even humor… but he gets nothing. 

“let’s stop seeing and texting each other.”

and he’s scared most of all when you’re impossible to read. just when he thought he had managed to slither past your walls, he is met by larger and stronger ones with welded spikes.

“what are you talking about?” 

“i don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” 

you said it like it’s nothing. like you haven’t consumed his every thought since he saw you crying and you broke his heart without him knowing your name. like you haven’t been breaking his heart over and over again and he still can’t bring himself to detach from you. 

“what is this joke? it’s not really funny.” 

but he laughs anyway, or else he’d start crying, and you’d want him less. 

“just forget all about me.” 

his muscles tense. even now, he doesn’t know if he’s angry, but he is lost and it hurts so much, and he doesn’t know how else to express it without appearing weak. 

“you think that’s something i can just do overnight?”

“what makes it so hard?” you raise your voice. the venom stings without the bite. “you don’t even know me that well!” 

“then what was last night even about?” he hisses, hands balling into fists. “did you do that just to fuck with my feelings? am i just a game to you? what the fuck is your problem, ____?”

“you told me to use you to make myself feel better!” 

it completely catches him off guard when you stomp your feet and produce guttural screams— it borders on a childish tantrum— you damage your throat in doing so, voice coming out high-pitched and scratched up. 

his jaw clenches, straining to hold back his tears. the sun has risen and you’ve come to your senses. he regrets opening his eyes and acknowledging the morning. 

“it didn’t work— is that what you’re saying? is that why you’re throwing me away?” 

he doesn’t get a verbal answer, but your glassy-eyed stare and labored breathing have answered enough. 

“wow, that hurts…” he chuckles sarcastically. “yah, seriously- i have to give it to you. i’m shocked… you’re good. you’re a good actor.” 

he uses his middle finger to wipe the corners of his eyes, acting as though they are tears of amusement.

“you know, out of everyone i liked… you have to be the most cruel.” 

jungkook’s pride has never been this crushed. he feels utterly infuriated and humiliated. yet another exchange of ‘i should have listened’ and ‘i told you so’ between him and his best friend. he’s also sick and tired of his heart leading him to the opposite direction of the love he deserves. 

“i hope you find some other lunatic who would let you use them too. have a good life.” 

this time around, he walks away, and he would like to think that he did it on his own terms. 

—

 

jungkook loses his appetite after that. he informs his manager that he won’t be able to go to work because he’s feeling under the weather, then he drags himself back to bed. 

your scent has clung to the pillowcase, the sheets… 

it’s unbearable.

despite his lack of energy, he forces himself to set up the extra bed on the floor. he expected himself to have difficulty falling asleep, but the amalgamation of physical and emotional exhaustion pulls him down under.

he wakes up again in the afternoon. he ignores the cake in the fridge, instead snacking on yogurt and crackers while watching a movie on his computer. he takes a long shower after and buries himself in assignments until dinner time rolls in. 

by this time, he assumes taehyung has blabbed about what he saw this morning. his friends must think he’s out here relishing in the honeymoon phase. how he wishes it was true. 

he has that whole carton of eggs but he doesn’t have it in him to cook anymore. maybe it’s best that he surrounds himself with people, disrupt his depressing thoughts with loud chatter, and so he makes plans to go to the street market. 

“wait!”

he sprints to the elevator, managing to slip his arm between the doors before they close entirely. 

under different circumstances, this would’ve been fate instead of bad luck.

—

you stand your ground as jungkook enters the elevator, not sparing him a glance. just like you wanted, he also treats you with indifference. it’s hard to breathe in an enclosed space with him now that he hates you. 

two girls from the eleventh floor enter; they stand infront of you and jungkook.

“did you find the video?” the girl infront of you, with the blonde hair, asks impatiently. 

“wait- i’m looking for it.” her friend, you assume, replies as she is focused on aggressively scrolling and tapping on her phone screen.

“having a sex scandal with your professor? wow, that’s really something. how does that even happen?” 

your blood runs cold.

from that statement alone, you can make an educated guess on what exactly they are talking about, but your brain tries to reject the thought. there are many scandals going around these days. maybe they’re talking about somebody else. you hope they are. does that make you a bad person?

“that’s not confirmed, though. the guy’s face doesn’t show in the video… oh, i found it!”

she presents her phone screen to the blonde-haired girl, and you feel as though gallons of ice have been dumped over your head. through the gap between their arms, you get a good view of your face. of the video you were forced to watch so you could acknowledge your sin… the video that not only damaged your reputation but stripped you away of everything. your dignity, your dreams, your people, the essence of your being. 

you don’t need to look to know that beside you, jungkook is also secretly watching. 

you’re trapped. 

“this was really popular at snu but it suddenly got spread outside. my cousin who studies there said the girl’s parents are like- super rich- and they tried to bribe the university, but she still got kicked out. i think her name is ____?”

you bow your head to hide your face, vision gradually going blurry. strangers drop your name so casually to tell the shortest life story known to man. they discard the majority of the parts, retain and distort what entertains them, and in the end, they decide who you are. 

you knew it was going to happen eventually, but this isn’t how you wanted jungkook to learn.

you didn’t want to be here for it. 

“wow, she’s going at it.”

a scandalized gasp. 

“no wonder men are going crazy over this. even the quality is-”

“insane, right?!” the storyteller whisper-shouts. 

“but… what if she doesn’t know she’s being recorded? getting kicked out sounds a bit unfair, no?” 

“no, no- she even holds the camera when they switch positions. watch!” 

you can’t. you can’t take it anymore. you turn away, squeezing your eyes shut in extreme anguish. 

you don’t realize that you’re shaking until jungkook holds your hand tightly, it’s almost crushing. 

“ah, what are you doing?! turn it off! turn it off! it’s too disgusting from this angle!” 

you look at him in shock, for a split moment you forgot he was there. his features have softened; so does your heart. 

although you can’t exactly figure out how he’s feeling, you’d take anything that isn’t disgust. 

the elevator reaches the ground floor. 

as the girls take their leave, you also attempt to step out— but jungkook doesn’t let you. he grips your hand tighter and he presses the button of your apartment floor. 

“why did you- i need to go to work…” you meant to chastise him, but your voice comes out small. 

“stay a little bit. it’s still early.” he speaks to you softly, wiping off the beads of cold sweat on your forehead. 

when did that happen? 

“no, i need to-” 

you feel dizzy; the walls are closing in on you. the turning of your stomach is bordering on intolerable. you lurch, pushing him away as you clamp a hand over your mouth and gag uncontrollably. you’ve had to experience this humiliation in school hallways, public spaces… in front of your friends, your parents; in the dean’s office. this is the first time your body is having this type of reaction; you feel physically sick, like your body is shutting down. 

he rubs your back as an effort to alleviate your ails. “are you okay?”

you could answer, but what’s the point? you’re breaking down in front of him again. you’re no longer the mystifying neighbor he obviously yet secretly cherishes. he has discovered the missing puzzle piece you could never bury even if you died trying. 

“did you enjoy it?”

“what?”

you wish he would stop looking at you with those big, sparkly eyes. at this moment, they’re making you feel small. 

“the video. was it fun watching it too?”

the silence is suffocating.

he utters your name. he doesn’t know what to say; you don’t know what you want to hear either.

“it doesn’t change the way i see you.”

“bullshit,” you spit out— a knee-jerk reaction. 

“look, i-i don’t know what happened but this isn’t right. you don’t deserve this. you can sue ever- wait! ____!”

the elevator opens and he chases after you, effectively blocking your path.

he has officially wore you down. 

“it’s not me,” you declare near to tears instead of pushing him away. “it’s not me, jungkook. i d-don’t know how they- they did it. i know it looks so real but it’s not me. i swear-”

and as an act of desperation, after months of having given up on proving it’s all some sort of well-orchestrated deception, your hands come up to the buttons of your blouse.

“it’s not my body.”

“no no no- you don’t have to do this! this isn’t right!” jungkook freaks out and binds your wrists with his hands, unwillingly using his strength on you when you fight back. he anxiously glances at the camera monitoring the hallway. “stop, stop-”

“i just need one person to believe me.”

“i believe you, okay?” he captures your wrists in one hand, the other tenderly caresses your cheek. “i believe you. i promise.”

he cradles your head on his shoulder, hugging you so tightly it almost feels like you’re one person.

“when the girl said you might not even know you were being recorded… the terrible thoughts i had- like what if he…” 

it’s too much alone in his head. he can’t bring himself to say it into the universe.

“but you didn’t get hurt, right? nothing like that happened? it’s not even real.” he sniffles, holding you tighter as if that is still possible. “that’s a relief… i mean- this, this is bad, what happened to you is. but i was scared.”

you remain there, dumbstruck and motionless. the line between standing and letting jungkook carry your weight has blurred. 

you wish he would never let you go.

—

 

jungkook brings you to his apartment, sits you down in the kitchen, and takes out his birthday cake from fridge. he conveniently finds two pairs of chopsticks in a plastic bag on the table and offers you one, which you accept without thinking. you think he understands that you don’t want to talk about it but you can’t be alone right now either. 

chocolate is supposed to help raise one’s spirit, doesn’t it?

well, it tastes delicious, and jungkook is with you. you feel a little less shitty. 

he can’t sit still, though. 

he cracks open the eggs he bought this morning into a bowl and starts chopping up vegetables to be mixed into it. all the while you sit and watch in silence. no, in peace. the rhythmic tapping of the knife against the chopping board is like music to your ears. even the sound of the oil crackling as he pours the beaten eggs into the frying pan. 

you abandon the endorphin-inducing treat on the table. you saunter over to jungkook in search of something else more associated with love, sneaking your arms around his torso. a tidal wave of relief washes over you. this feels more like resting, and you can’t believe you’re saying this, better than drugs. as it turns out, you’ve been homesick for a body you haven’t touched. a hug can’t fix your life, but it may convince you that it’s possible to survive an unfixable life. 

however, the key difference between jungkook and nicotine is that you can’t simply have jungkook because you want to. 

what he has unleashed upon you is greed.

“i’m sorry,” the more you apologize, the easier it becomes, but you’re also growing sick of it. “i didn’t mean what i said. i was scared of your reaction when you find out so i pushed you away… i keep taking you for granted. i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay, i understand.” he rubs your forearm comfortingly. “just don’t do it again… it really hurt.” 

“i like you too.” you confess like you’re running out of time. 

you no longer have room for apprehension. you can’t gamble with your chances once more when there’s not much left. 

“i wasn’t playing with your feelings. up until earlier, i thought i’d never be able to let you know, so i’m doing it now. i like you.”

a chill runs along your spine. it feels immensely intimate— how jungkook slowly takes a hold of your hand and guides it to his soft lips, pressing a long kiss to your skin. 

“i like you too, a lot.” his laughter makes his body vibrate, waking up the slumbering butterflies in your stomach. “incase i haven’t made it obvious enough.”

—

“will you stay?”

you nod your head as you joyfully munch on your fresh homemade meal. “they’re already forcing me to use my vacation days anyway.”

he makes a noise of surprise. “you’ve never missed work?”

you shake your head no.

“rude clients aside, i like what i do. it helps me keep my mind off…” you wave the radish-bearing chopsticks. “things.” 

he only nods, ruffling your hair affectionately. “you should eat well, okay?”

“you too!” 

you feed him a big bite of your omelette, and then rice, and then kimchi. 

it results in stuffed cheeks and aggressive chewing, but you look especially happy watching him eat. jungkook assumes that it’s just how you express your affection, and it’s euphoria to be at the receiving end. 

—

you found your way back to where you were last night— jungkook’s warm bed. comfy pajamas and tangled limbs. everything went to shit after you left, so if you were to get stuck here forever, he wouldn’t disapprove. 

he listens to you talk as half of his mind is preoccupied by innocently kissing every inch of the exposed skin of your face and neck.

“i’m going to the salon tomorrow.”

he inwardly groans against your neck when your fingers card through his silky yet messy hair, twisting and tugging.

“what color should i color my hair? red? orange? brown?”

“red sounds really great?” he draws back in excitement. “but i’m going to miss your pink hair. how did you maintain it for so long?”

“i only chose it because it doesn’t look good on me.” 

“that’s ridiculous!” he exclaims.

you snort. “i thought if it doesn’t fit me then it would seriously change the way i look.” 

“then you were very wrong. it fits you so well.” he passionately insists that you see yourself from his point-of-view.

“you’re ridiculous.”

you don’t believe him, but he still earns himself a kiss on the lips. 

“have you ever thought of getting a lip piercing?”

“why?” he fails to hide his smug grin. “would it look good on me?”

“mhmm, i imagine so.”

you lazily trace his lips with your thumb. it’s suddenly making him dizzy. 

“should i get it then?”

“nope,” you reply with finality. “too many girls would fantasize about kissing you.” 

he bursts out laughing. “isn’t that too much of a stretch?” 

“i’m a girl! i’d know!” 

“so you’re the jealous type, huh?” he cockily quirks an eyebrow.

“i’m not,” you scoff.

“possessive?” 

“maybe,” you shrug.

“cool,” he chuckles. “you want to keep kissing?”

you don’t answer and instead you meet his lips halfway with a tug at the collar of his shirt. you’re an amazing kisser; his brain goes haywire once you tilt your head and you kiss him deeper, tongue sneaking in for a taste. he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else again. 

as the tension escalates into something hotter, your wandering hand manages to slip under his shirt, teasing and caressing his skin. fuck, he feels like he’s running a fever. however, when your fingers begin tracing and teasing the waistband of his calvin klein boxers, much as it feels heavenly and stirs something feral deep within him, he has to pull away. 

not too fast. 

he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. he’s afraid you’re not thinking straight.

“are you free this weekend?” he asks as he catches his breath, tongue swiping over his swollen lips. 

“saturday night,” you reply with a drunk smile. 

“since you granted my birthday wish, shall we make your ferris wheel dream come true?” 

your smile fades away a little. “where you work?” 

he nods, but he senses your hesitation. “but we can go to a different one, if you’d like.”

as your silence stretches, he also begins to regret having asked you in the first place. after what happened only hours ago, you must not want to go out in public and risk reliving that experience. 

“…doesn’t it bother you that your friends may have seen the video already?” 

at that moment, taehyung’s voice rings in his ears.

‘honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?’

his heart breaks upon the sight of genuine fear swimming in your eyes. he dips his head to press a kiss on your forehead, and he hugs you tight. and tighter. he doesn’t pray much, or ask big questions, but he despises it when bad things happen to good people. he wants to protect you, but how?

“i’d tell them the truth. i’d fight for your case.”

“but what if they don’t believe you…?”

—

a deafening crash resonates in the break room as taehyung’s body slams against the lockers before collapsing on the floor. 

“ah, seriously! i said it’s not her!”

“what the fuck, dude?!” taehyung yelps as he sits up, putting a hand over his assaulted cheek. he’s more offended than hurt if he’s being honest.

as it turns out, it does bother jungkook.

taehyung’s phone landed a few feet away from him. the video is still going, and unlike the people in the elevator, he didn’t have the courtesy to keep it muted. obscene moans and sounds of skin slapping repeatedly play from the speakers at a low volume. 

“it’s so clear, look! how can it not be her?!” 

“it’s edited! it’s ai, you fucking idiot!” jungkook scowls at him. 

he picks up the phone, teeth gritted in anger as he exits the video and discovers that it’s posted at an adult website. the view count has reached five digits and the comment section is flooded. he knows this isn’t the only place it’s posted. hell, other people could have it downloaded. although it’s not your body, it’s still you being violated and lusted after. he feels sick to his stomach. 

“you should’ve said that from the start!” 

he looks away for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut, hard, hoping that would erase the explicit images and thumbnails from his memory. after gathering himself together, his eyes zero in on the report button. 

he clicks ‘submit’ before he crumbles, weakly sitting down on the chair. 

taehyung rushes to his phone that was tossed carelessly on the table. “ah shit- the screen is cracked!” 

if this is how he feels, then he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. 

he stares at the floor, eyes unfocused. the world goes on and his back remains hunched over as he struggles to make sense of what he should do. 

—

 

when you were called over to the human resource department, you didn’t exactly prepare yourself to watch your alleged sex scandal on a 21.5-inch computer monitor. the light from the screen reflects on your skin. you have to harshly claw at the skin of your knee to stop it from anxiously bouncing; you force yourself not to also gag when the you on the screen chokes and gags. 

“was this reported to you,” you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting your stare to the man in suit and tie. “or did you find it on your own?” 

“miss ____,” he leans in on the table, clasping his hands together. the golden band around his finger shines under the dim lighting of his office. “do you even understand the kind of trouble you’re in?” 

“am i being fired?”

“but you don’t have to be.” he bares his teeth as if he’s delivering good news. you long to destroy his face and his condescension with your bare hands. “i believe we can agree on an arrangement.”

“what do you mean…?” you ask carefully, grasping the tiny bit of hope that what you have in mind isn’t what he meant. 

“i think you know what i mean. you’re smart.”

your heart drops to your stomach when he side-eyes the screen.

“do you expect me to beg for my job and do the same things i did in the video?” 

“why?” his tone then becomes threatening. you begin to hear your heartbeat thumping loud in your chest. “you won’t do it?” 

but if you allow yourself to be intimidated and treated less than a human being worthy of dignity and respect, then you may never be able to forgive yourself. 

your sharp eyes and your cutting words make up for its trembles.

“you’re right, i’m smart. i know you don’t have enough grounds to fire me. you seriously think you can manipulate me this easy?” you contemptuously push over his name plate, the bronze metal tumbling and clashing with the wooden desk. “you’re not qualified for this job.” 

your dismissal of his authority bruises his ego. he holds you in a hostile glare.

“if i were you, i would stop talking. right now.” 

“or what?” you challenge him. “you’ll hit me…? what would your wife think when she hears about this conversation?” 

his face is contorted with anger and frustration, but he is visibly holding himself back from doing something else that would damage his career. 

“i plan on suing the people who are responsible for this. i’d appreciate it if-” you gesture at the monitor. “you can delete your copy too. i’ll clean my table and leave.” 

“you have a real attitude problem, you know that? you need your eyes opened to the reality of life.” the alarms in your head starts blaring when he slowly gets up from his seat. “i think i know what i need to do to fix it.” 

“don’t you dare touch me.” you grit your teeth, tears welling in your eyes as he circles his desk. “i will kill you.” 

he squats on the floor beside you, wearing a mocking grin. you want to move away, but the chair is too small, and you’re determined to show him that you have no fear. 

“you’ll kill me?” 

he grabs a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back, and a scream is ripped out from your throat. the pain is mind-numbing; if he does it long enough, your guess is that you’d surely faint. he forces your head to the direction of the monitor. 

“who you should be killing is the man who put you in this situation.” 

you close your eyes. you try not to let him get under your skin, but the tears rolling down your cheeks are your self-made traitors. 

you have. in your head. a million times. is it truly a man? is he even alone? 

as you tiredly re-open your eyes, you unleash the pepper spray you’ve been holding under your thigh and begin spraying it all over his face. when he collapses on the floor, screaming and clawing at his own skin, your hand also falls limp over the armrest. you take a deep breath, blinking at the mess you made with heavy eyelids. 

does it hurt that much or is he simply dramatic?

you’d stay and enjoy his demise, but you decide he’s not worth your time. 

“____, come back here!” 

“oh-” you freeze on your tracks. 

you pull the lace of your company id over your head, hurling it at his face. he rolls over with an agonized groan. 

“i quit!” 

you unlock the door, dry your tears, and walk out of his office with your chin held high.

—

you stand at jungkook’s door, staring down at your shoes. you’ve been contemplating on whether you should knock or not. you want nothing more but to crawl into his arms, but a part of you is holding back. is it right to drag him into your world? you’d hate it if he becomes infected by your sadness. it broke you to pieces when he cried because he thought you were hurt. what would his reaction be if finds out what happened tonight? 

“____!”

jungkook approaches with a plastic bag from a 24/7 restaurant nearby. judging by his tousled hair, he must’ve just woken up from a long nap. and you think to yourself—he’s so handsome—as he walks over to you and you scramble to collect yourself. 

“have you been waiting long? sorry, i had to buy dinner.”  

“i just got here.” you deny. 

“is that so?” he stops infront of you, eyeing your outfit. “is everything alright? you’re home from work so early.”

“i went home.” you force a smile. “i’m not feeling so well.”

it takes everything in you not to cry when he starts stroking your hair with the gentlest hand. 

“what’s wrong…?” he frowns. he worriedly presses the back of his hand on your forehead, then your neck. “you are a bit hot.”

“i think i just need some more sleep.” you dismiss the topic quickly, throwing your arms around his neck for the hug you’ve been yearning for since you walked out of that office. 

his free arm wraps around waist, pulling you taut against him. he doesn’t ask you anything. like you, he closes his eyes, and he nuzzles his cheek against you, not taking any second for granted. 

  —

  you spend the remaining days before saturday locked up in your apartment, withholding the fact that you quit your job from jungkook. with work gone and social media apps wiped out from your phone, there’s not much to do. just like always, you feed the fishes and converse throughout the day over the phone. they eat less and less as the weather gets colder. you bring up the growing size of the fishes and he agrees that they should be moved into a bigger tank soon. he sends you photos of him bored in class and you send him photos of you in bed. every second that passes by, you feel guilty for holding on to him until the very end. 

you greet him with a radiant smile, opening the door just enough for him to see your face. you can tell that he styled his hair, sprayed on more perfume than usual. he looks absolutely dashing. it almost makes you mad. 

“are you ready?” 

you can feel the crushing weight of everything that hides behind the door. your clothes, your shoes, your self-care, your stacks of medical textbooks… your entire life packed in boxes and bags. 

jungkook was right. out of everyone he liked, you must be the most cruel. 

—

he doesn’t take you to his workplace, and instead brings you to their largest competitor. the amusement park is swarmed by locals and tourists alike, waiting for the firework show to commence. you hide your face with a thick scarf wrapped around your neck. you’ve been waiting, freezing, in line for over an hour, but you don’t mind it at all. it only means more time spent with jungkook. 

you take turns in biting on the pretzel he bought to get rid of your boredom, happy and content in your shared bubble among the hundreds of voices within the vicinity conversing all at once. you become the other half of those lovey-dovey couples people cringe at in public. every now and then you and jungkook mimic a stranger’s voice, or the instrumental music from the nearby rides, and you laugh until your tummies ache. he hugs you to warm you up and you reward him with a kiss on the cheek. 

“your hair looks even prettier in person.” jungkook compliments you with stars in his eyes. 

“thank you! it turned out better than i expected. i’m really happy about it.” you gush, confidence renewed. you eat the last piece of the pretzel happily. “red or pink?”

“okay, red does suit you better,” he admits. “but i still think you were also beautiful in pink.” 

“since you’re always saying that, i’m starting to believe it.” 

“you should, because it’s true.”

“have i ever told you that you’re handsome?”

he shakes his head with a half-amused, half-sheepish smile. 

“well, you’re very handsome,” you declare playfully, but you believe it a hundred percent. 

“thank you,” he bursts into a fit of giggles, and it delivers you a special kind of joy— making him happy.

“lemonade?” he offers you the drink he’s holding. 

you slot the straw between your lips, taking a few sips. your eyes widen in surprise, also delight. “it’s hot?” 

“it’s good, right? i feel so warm.” 

he sips on the drink himself. at the same moment, the line begins to move. 

“oh! it’s our turn!”

he grabs a secure hold of your hand, not allowing a slither of chance of you slipping away from him. you give out your tickets, and the remains of them returned, one of them jungkook takes and the other, you slide into the pocket of your shoulder bag.

“oh, it’s too high-”

your nervous pondering is interrupted by a yelp, thanks to jungkook effortlessly lifting you into the moving cabin with his hands on your hips. with a boyish grin, he jumps in after you. 

—

he curiously watches you set up your phone on the parallel side of your shared seat, you and him filmed by the front camera and displayed on the screen. he chooses not to say anything, but he is pleasantly surprised that you are the first one who initiated on recording this memory. 

once you fix it into the perfect angle, you return and sit beside him with a hint of satisfaction painted on your expression. but as soon as the the cabin quakes mildly, it morphs into nervousness. 

“it’s okay, it’s normal.” he strokes the back of your head, reassuring you. “are you afraid of heights?”

you scoot closer to him, and he forgets how to breathe for a moment when you innocently lay your hand just above his knee. “i try not to be.” 

“i was going to suggest the rollercoaster next, but maybe not.”

once again, the cabin moves, causing a whimper to emit from your throat. your nails begin to dig into his thigh, their sharpness dulled by his denim pants. 

“anything but that- i have bad memories with the rollercoaster.”

“maybe i should sit on the other side to balance ourselves bett-”

“stay!” you quickly pull him back down, resulting to another shake. “in my dream, we sit next to each other.”

“oh,” his lips shape into a smirk. “anything else i should know about?”

“you had your arm around me.” you bat your eyelashes.

he does as you request, hugging you to his side.

“like this?”

you shake your head with a sound of disagreement, moving his hand from your arm down to the curve of your waist. 

“you suddenly remember everything.” he remarks with a teasing squeeze of your flesh. 

you sheepishly smile, shrugging. “eh, i remember this much.” 

he loves moments like this— when your innocence rises to the surface and allows him a glimpse of your purest parts. they completely contradict everything your brain leads you to think is for your protection. you don’t want to be alone, and you do want to be held.

amidst his bittersweet musing, the night sky begins to be lit up by a sequence of launched explosives, shooting off glowing embers that descend slowly through the air. 

he jolts on his seat and clings to you as a result.

“ah, that scared me!” he whines in annoyance.

you spare his scaredy-cat moment a short giggle. you barely pay him any mind; you didn’t even look at him. jungkook decides to watch the fireworks from your wonder-filled eyes. the colors soar across your irises— he can’t really differentiate the silver and the gold; there’s also blue and green; a lot of red. 

his view from here is one-of-a-kind. he temporarily mistakes you for a painting. brings out his phone. snaps photos of you like one instinctively does in an art gallery. 

the mortification only sets in when your eyes meet the camera and upon realizing, you give him your dazzling smile. 

“you should watch the fireworks too.” you scold him lightheartedly, redirecting his hands outside. “they’re amazing.”

and he obeys you. 

for a short while.

you catch him longingly gazing at you sooner the second time around. he likes that he doesn’t need to look away anymore because his feelings are already out in the open, and most importantly, reciprocated. he catches your eyes flicker to his lips. he swears this is the most romantic scene of his life. will anything ever come close? you cup his cheek in your delicate hand, bringing your plush lips to his. he wonders how many times you also hesitated to kiss him before. how long would it take before he has kissed you more times than he didn’t?

 

—

jungkook is glued to his phone, walking at a slower pace behind while you search the spacious parking lot for your motorbike. 

the wicked reality he stole you from momentarily waves at him as a reminder that ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. a notification from a fan that says they found a clip of your video on another social media platform and reported it there too. a notification containing the link. he clicks on the app and finds that his latest video has reached almost half a million views. 

technology has gone too far. how is there no law for this yet??? someone's life is ruined 

what is this. you've totally ruined the video for me

jungkook!! when are you going live again?

everyone stop spreading the video around!!!!!!!!!! report it if you see it!!!!

but how come you suddenly made a ten min vid talking against ai so passionately? do you know this girl personally?? haha

lol? he already talked about ai in a live before. his follower would know that he knows a lot about editing and technology too. hes using his knowledge for good. stop assuming

it was obvious from the start ㅠㅠ the expressions look a bit unnatural. this is unsettling.... i feel so bad for her

um .. am i the only one who doesn't know about this

you're better off not knowing 😭

it's gone viral recently

how? it's all over my feed

his temples throb with a threat of an incoming headache. he can only hope and pray that he didn’t do more harm than good… and by some miracle you don’t find out about this, at least not before he is prepared to see you mad at him again. sharply inhaling, he swipes out of the comment section and tucks his phone back into his small crossbody bag. 

“wait for me!”

he jogs to catch up to you, hurling himself to your back. you are both nearly knocked over if not for him throwing his strong arms around you. 

“you’re so hyper. are you a puppy?” you groan. “go put your helmet on.” 

“this hurts my pride. i said i’m not wearing it again!” 

he is, once again, left with no choice when you forcefully shove your only helmet over his head. 

“calm down, nothing bad will happen anyway.” 

“this feels so wrong.” he continues complaining. “everyone i know owns an extra, just so you know.” 

“well, i never planned on riding with a passenger.” you pull down the visor, sealing the deal. “hold on tight, okay?”

—

how often do you see a man on the road sitting at the back of an expensive motorbike that his cool girlfriend drives? jungkook wishes someone could take a photo and send it to him as a memento because being that man is pretty darn fun. except for the part that you’re not wearing a helmet and he’s also freaking out in the back of his mind, especially when the vehicle tilts even at the slightest. 

but yeah, fun. 

until the rain starts to come down and he ends up numb from the freezing cold. 

your driving speed decreases. you move farther into the center of the lane to avoid the slippery paint on asphalt. 

“jungkook, remove my glasses.” you instruct him urgently. 

“okay!” his arm freezes in the air. “wait, where do i put it?”

“fuck, anywhere. over my head!”

 —

owing it to your driving experience and extreme carefulness of your passenger, you park at your designated parking space safely. by the time you do so, the rain has become a downpour.

“run!” you shout as you both begin to brave it. 

for the record, jungkook tried. 

his shoe slides against the wet and slippery ground and a startled scream leaves his mouth as it all happens too fast. he lands on his butt, but loses balance again and ends up completely lying down in the middle of the parking lot. 

“jungkook!” 

alongside the fierce raindrops, your frantic footsteps bringing you to jungkook contest in creating loud splashes. you get down on your knees, forcibly shaking his frame with yet another call of his name.

“are you okay? where are you hurt?!” 

garnering no response, you resort to giving his face weak slaps. 

“stand up. this isn’t funny.” 

his ears catch you blowing out a sigh, layered underneath is the most adorable growl he has ever heard— reminds him of a tiger cub. there is the lightest trace of smile on his lips as you carry his head over to your lap with utmost gentleness. 

“jungkook!” 

you wipe his rain-soaked face with your rain-soaked hands as if it would do something. he dies of laughter inside. 

“are you being serious right now?!” 

he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the other, greeting you with the most gleeful giggle. he’s so stupidly happy it’s almost painful. chest-restricting. doesn’t help much when you hit his chest, rightfully so, and he laughs harder. 

“ugh, you’re so annoying!” 

his upper body tumbles over again to the wet ground when you return to your feet. the view from here is not that bad. he is losing half his mind from the cold and his eyes are blurry from the rain. it presents itself as the perfect opportunity to say something cheesy about going to heaven, but would an angel nudge him with their foot and say “stand up. we’re totally going to get sick now, you jerk!” before running away? 

in jungkook’s defense, he checked the weather forecast this morning. it’s painfully clear to him now that they lied. the two of you are dripping all over the floor mat in front of the building’s entrance doors. there is no other choice but to wring your clothes here to minimize the trail of mess you will leave behind when you go up to your units. 

you’re squeezing out the water from your hair. he is left with a white t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he does the same with his sweater.

the earthy and distinct smell of the rain clings to the air, and therefore, everything.

“jungkook,”

“yes?” he cranes his head to your direction and your eyes connect.

“don’t get sick.” 

“i won’t! i’m healthy. i only get sick once a year.” he boasts with a grin. 

given the length difference, jungkook’s method is messier than yours— he shakes the water out of his hair like a puppy. 

“okay, rude-” you chide at him, flinching away from the shower. 

“oh i’m sorry!” 

didn’t think about that, he winces. 

“aquarium after showering?”

—

“worms make me queasy.” you make a noise of disgust as you dispose of your plastic gloves. 

“but clem loves them.”

“true,” you return beside jungkook, who is watching your five beloved swimmers with pure fascination. “but not as much as coral does.” 

“sometimes i wonder if they’re getting tired of seeing our faces everyday.” 

“i hope not,” you frown.

after all, they’ve taken over a considerable chunk of your daily life for the past half year. you worried more about their meals than your own. you hated it when clementine and dahlia would get scared and hide from you at the beginning. you worked hard to gain their trust. how long will it take for them to forget you? contrary to the three-second memory span myth, you read that they can keep memories for weeks, some claim months, at least five, or even years. 

“yeah, probably not because they associate us with food.” he chuckles.

“that’s true.” 

he straightens up and drops himself on the couch. while you’re alone, you take your time to prepare your heart. 

you try your hardest to look at every little detail of each fish, anything you haven’t seen before. you always loved the way their tail and fins glide and flow as they swim, reminiscent of long hair blowing with the wind. when they play about the shipwreck, it feels you’re being healed. something broken can still be a source of joy.

“i had a wonderful time, by the way.” you turn to jungkook, making your way to where he is. “thank you for tonight.”

“me too. i was so happy.” 

he squeezes you to his side, dipping to press a kiss to your temple. you never understood people who preferred forehead kisses until you met jungkook. a kiss on the lips meant being wanted, and maybe that was everything to you.

“but i’m buying the extra helmet myself tomorrow.”

“you don’t have to do that!”

while he laughs, you force a smile. 

there’s no point. there will be no next time.

“no but thank you for everything, really… my life has been a living nightmare but- but i felt like a person again when i was with you.” 

you take a pause, willing yourself not to cry. you need to tell him everything you haven’t said so you can live with less regrets. 

“you’re such a kind person. i’m sorry that i always lashed out on you too. just because i was hurting doesn’t make it right to hurt you.” 

“why are you talking like that?” he questions you suspiciously. he masks his nervousness with a tone of humor. “it sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

because you are…

you’ve never been good at goodbyes. the original plan was to leave in the middle of the night without letting him know, leaving a note was an option. either way you know that you will hurt him, and as an admitted coward, you didn’t want to witness that.

but in the future, when you reminisce about him, you don’t want to be overcome with guilt. and when he reminisces about you, you don’t want memories of you to be tainted with bitter resentment. you hope that when either one of you sheds tears, the pain of loss eventually becomes gratitude for what you had momentarily. 

and so, you take a deep breath.

“i need to tell you something.”

he stares back into your eyes without saying anything. in the duration of that silence, jungkook is able to interpret and predict where your shared story is heading. 

“you’re leaving…”

the end.

you never considered that hearing him say it would hurt much more than telling him yourself.

“when?”

“my flight is in six hours. i’m so sorry.” 

you nearly break down into the tears, but you harshly chew on your bottom lip. you can’t cry, not in front of him. you don’t have the right.

“my parents, they finally forgave me… i can continue studying with their help. but no one wants to accept me here anymore, i tried, everywhere… so i’m going back with them to milan.”

“where they work…” he says meekly. he remembers you mentioning it in passing.

“can’t you postpone?” he tries to spark up even a smallest crumb of hope. he places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly. “even just for a day?”

you shake your head, unable to look him in the eyes, but you flip your hand over so you can hold his. and you do. tightly. and when it doesn’t feel enough, you use both hands and you clasp him in between. 

the silence in between is suffocating.

“when will you come back?”

“i don’t know.”

“i can wait-”

“no, you can’t.” you interrupt, looking at him decisively. “you shouldn’t.” 

with hardened features, he challenges your stare. you’re not scared or intimidated. he’s not angry. he’s just… 

“that’s not for you to decide.”

fighting for you.

you’d be a hypocrite if you said that you wished he wouldn’t. 

“jungkook, please, don’t.”

you throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so he won’t be able to see your face and decipher your thoughts. deep inside, with logic thrown outside the window, where all you can see and feel and touch is him, you wish that he would beg and convince you to stay. 

“you’d only waste your time doing that. you’ll meet someone else…” 

those words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. possessive, he jokingly described you once. 

“don’t say that.” he interjects. 

“you deserve to be happy, jungkook. there is so much more to life.”

“i knew- i-i had a feeling you would leave soon. i just didn’t know when.”

a tear drips from your eyelash; you hug him tighter and wipe it off on his shoulder. 

“i wish i could’ve done more.” he utters regretfully. “to help you. and comfort you. you endured everything on your own…”

“you believed me and you stayed with me. you did more than everybody else.” 

taking away the science of it, it’s common knowledge that a hug has wondrous healing effects. it’s one of those things that we naturally learn through experience, feeling. the hormone and neurotransmitter oxytocin can affect how we feel and respond to pain. studies say that it kicks in for hugs that last at least six to twenty seconds. 

“will you be okay there?” he whispers. he’s gently stroking the expanse of your back and it feels like getting tucked into bed.

by now, you’ve been hugging jungkook for over twenty seconds, and you realize that the time is irrelevant. perhaps what they are referring to are the hugs you wouldn’t mind staying in forever. 

“i’m scared,” you confess. “but i’ll be okay.”

a glimpse at the aquarium and enters a silly, gutwrenching thought. 

“you know… maybe in another life,” you peek fondly into a future that may very well never exist. “we’re old and married, and we have a big pond instead of an aquarium.”

jungkook draws back and stares you down with his tearful eyes. 

you clear your throat, face going warm with regret. “sorry-”

“you’re impossible-” he mutters before leaning in to kiss you. 

you’re frozen at first, mind going blank, until he’s kissing you deeper, gripping your waist tighter, with intense emotions you’ve never felt him express before, and you are forced to remember that this kiss is a goodbye. 

your hands around his neck fall over his shoulders, and you grant him the power to let you fall into the abyss where nothing else exists but the two of you. 

you stop worrying about the time ticking. 

you do not think about pulling away. 

he is the one who breaks the kiss and your heart is broken. 

his gaze is heaving with longing as does his aching chest. “why can’t it be in this life?”

you think this is when the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on you. jungkook is once in a lifetime. he is the person you will dedicate a memoir to when you reach the point in life where the only thing left to do is to look back. revealing the closet full of skeletons of who you were and who you will never become. he will be the subject of your what if’s, the other main character of the alternate version of your life story. the cynics will clamor, your time together was too short for it to have meant something, ignorant of the most lamentable grief— and you will envy them for it.

the corners of your mouth are lifted into a wistful smile. “fate made us meet at the wrong time, when i’m the wrong person for us.”

  —

when you arrive at your apartment, you are deprived of the privacy to break down. your brother and your family driver, mister lee, have only begun hauling your bags and boxes. you try to ignore their presence, head straight to the bathroom, but as always, your brother doesn’t allow you peace. 

“are you seriously bringing your motorbike too?”

you take a deep breath to compose yourself, but you still end up gritting your teeth. “it’s mine.”

“it’s too expensive to have it shipped-”

“shut up, you’re not the one paying for it.” 

you turn on your heel, but you become rooted into place when you hear jungkook’s name. 

“that boy you were with- jungkook, is it?”

you face with him a look of suspicion, eyebrows furrowing. “why do you care?”

he casually leans against the kitchen cabinet, hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets. “he must genuinely like you a lot to make that video. the tide has turned because of him.”

“wh-what are you saying?” you sputter. “what video?”

he narrows his eyes at you. “you don’t know what i’m talking about?”

“are you fucking with me again?” 

“yeah- okay, nevermind.” he dismisses the topic, straightening up to pick up one of the boxes that will be carried to his car. 

“moon!” you irritatedly shout his name, throwing the first thing that your hand touches. the comb hits his back before falling on the floor with a smack. “what is it?!” 

“god, ___! it’s nothing! forget about it!” he barks, going straight for the front door with two boxes stacked in his arms. “go and make sure you didn’t forget to pack anything. i don’t need you nagging me when a package gets lost on its way to milan.” 

you’re obviously having a hard time. can’t he go a little gentler on you? 

“and cover your face.”

“does it matter? i’m already leav-”

“dad asked for it— not me. just do it, ____.”

you weakly slump back against the wall. you have no fight left in you today. you’d like to commend yourself for making it this far, surviving the worst of the worst and having the courage to come out of the tunnel, but you fail to make the distinction between being strong and becoming jaded. 

“ma’am-” mister lee offers you a handkerchief. “i found it in one of the drawers. did you mean to leave it behind?” 

you shake your head, and with a cold, shaky hand, you take it from his open palm. 

once the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, there is no more stopping them. 

as a sign of respect to you, he also leaves the room. 

you choke back a sob, clutching to your chest— the handkerchief you were never sure if you were given or you stole. 

—

jungkook’s tears glimmer from the lighter’s dancing flame. after several clicks, he manages to light up the cigarette. he isn’t innocent–after all he’s already an adult—but it’s a habit he makes an effort to avoid. surely, he can give himself a pass today, though. he’s heartbroken, and he feels pathetic enough hanging out in the alleyway you frequented. 

he blankly stares at the lighter you believe you lost due to your carelessness. thinking back to your words from earlier, he’s furious at how calm you appeared. it was an easy decision— leaving him behind.

the rain has stopped, but raindrops collected by the roof still trickle to the ground and clang against metal pipes.  

with trembling lips, he exhales the smoke— a sob threatens to be ripped from his throat and he roughly covers his mouth to stop it. 

what could possibly be the lesson he’s supposed to learn from this pain? 

he didn’t know where else to go. at his apartment, he’d feel you leave. at the lobby, he’d see you leave. he’d go far, but he doesn’t want to be too far. until the very end, he is at your disposal. 

you could’ve been the one. no, he desperately wanted you to be the one. if you had stayed, he would’ve loved you as often as he breathed— but your paths intertwined only to be unraveled. 

some sadistic tool, fate is. what was the point of finding you again? 

a passerby’s fleeting shadow blocks all sources of light casted over jungkook’s secret place.

you wear your only carry-on, a duffle bag, around your body. 

you cross the street with unhurried steps. 

as you climb into your getaway car, jungkook flicks off the ash from the cigarette held between his fore and middle fingers. 

the tires roll over the wet asphalt, leaving behind a hissing echo. your brother’s car follows suit.

thirty-five, thirty-six… jungkook anxiously counts the vehicles he hears driving away.

was one of them you? 

…are you gone?