#yeah yeah at the end of the day im still part of this house. whatever.

[divorciada]

"I should go into the dragon age tags I want to reblog some fanart"

post 1: guys if da:vg doesn't have a happy cozy sollavellan focused ending then I don't know if it'll be worth playing I can't live without my babies 🥺 bioware you better watch out 😭

post 2: people who like dorian give me terrible vibes. like they're worse than real life bigots :/

post 3: [actual fanart]

post 4: here's how anders can still win

post 5: solas x inquisitor [spicy] tw: rough, dirty talk, bdsm, dom/sub, sub inquisitor, Dom solas, solas transforms into a wolf mid act, knotting, pregnancy

post 6: [actual well thought out meta]

post 7: dragon age incorrect quotes featuring john mulaney but it's ✨ ChAoTiC ✨

post 8: If you recruited Vivienne I'm giving you the side eye...because theres no way you agree with her views right...she's the worst character ever written and if you disagree I don't want you on my blog

post 9: [only 1/987th of the post has to do with dragon age but op decided to use the tag anyway because it's trending and they need engagement]

post 10: SEe my pu$zy click 0n my LinK 👀👇

post 11: I hope varric doesn't die I hope I can fuck him before he does

[4chensungs]

don’t kiss and tell

brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader

after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?

wc. 2.8k

warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex

part 1 for context here <3

IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.

the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.

and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.

on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.

his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.

but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.

you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.

you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.

the__and.y liked your stories.

you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.

jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media

is he really going to do this? at this late at night?

jisung ♡: i miss you

you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.

maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?

you: i'm sorry jisung

you: idk if this is right i really don't know

you: im confused

you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.

jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right

jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want

hm.

you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you

you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day

you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship

jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up

jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him

jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it

you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.

you: ji

you: i want to see you

jisung ♡: that's right

jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess

jisung ♡: waited so long

you: i need you

you: i don't care anymore

you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.

and it screams for park jisung.

"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"

"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.

chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."

bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."

"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."

if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?

"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.

chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."

jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.

in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.

jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow

jisung ♡: will you?

you: what??

you: you're coming???

jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well

jisung ♡: dreaming of you again

jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me

jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess

you: go to sleep ji

you: silly

jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow

—

the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.

if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.

a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.

"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.

you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."

"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."

you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.

your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.

after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.

not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.

"come in."

you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.

that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.

your voice trembling, "hi, ji."

you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.

a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.

or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.

jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.

"you look gorgeous. more than ever."

your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.

he nodded, "all for me."

you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.

his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.

jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.

all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.

when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.

you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.

you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.

"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.

"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.

you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.

"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."

cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.

when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.

"you're crazy ji-jisung."

"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.

"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.

jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”

you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”

his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”

jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.

he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.

he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”

your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.

just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.

“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.

wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.

“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.

he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.

you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.

“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.

“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.

experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.

jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.

“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.

nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.

you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“

he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.

“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.

you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”

when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.

you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.

your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”

knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.

“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.

jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.

when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.

he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.

your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.

jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.

“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.

“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”

his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.

you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.

your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.

“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”

you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.

“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.

jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”

“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?

“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”

“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”

—

© 4chensungs

[cinnaminsvga]

Harana | Jungkook

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

→ summary:

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

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

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

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

It’s worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Painfully and pathetically you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pause. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you hear him before you see him. 

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Not anymore.)

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

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

“What’s it about this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you do know, the universe responds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, and seal your fate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door. 

[yooniivrse]

healing touches | myg

summary. sometimes, your boyfriend's tender touches and caring actions help heal your fragile state faster than any medication.

────

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au

word count: 2.2k

content: yoongi comes home to find you sick / he makes you food / reader can't help but fall asleep literally everywhere / yoongi loves you too much 😪😪

warnings: very brief mentions of passing out

a/n: im a slut for sick fics and i couldn't find many yoongi ones so i decided to just write one 😋 if anyone has any ideas for fluffy or suggestive yoongi drabbles feel free to drop them in my asks 🙏🙏

────

main masterlist

────

"I'm home!"

Yoongi's voice echoes through the house and he furrows his eyebrows at the lack of response to his words.

Usually, he would meet you at the lobby of your shared apartment on weekdays, as you would often stay back to grade a few assignments or prepare for the next day. On the days he didn't meet you, he would hear your footsteps as you made your way to greet him, or some sort of noise to prove that you were busy doing something.

But today, there was nothing but silence. Yoongi shrugs it off. You probably just lost track of time.

He makes his way into the living room and places the keys onto the small key holder on the wall.

He begins to remove his jacket but his actions still when he finds you sitting on the couch, a large blanket completely wrapped around you. The TV in front of you was on, but the sound was barely audible and your head was turned away from whatever you had put on to rest against the leather sofa.

Yoongi folds his jacket over his arm as he makes his way over to you.

"Did you get back from work early today?" He asks, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You groan softly as you stir, slowly moving your head up to look at him through squinted eyes. You were going to whine about how he had disturbed your sleep, but decide against it. Complaining needed energy, energy that you currently lacked.

"Didn't go today. Called in sick."

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and you begin to move out of the warm confinements of your blanket. Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, reaching out his hand to place it against your forehead.

You didn't have a fever, but your words came out dry and broken and there was a clear flush to your cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me? Are you still feeling sick?"

You nod softly and move the blanket to the opposite end of the couch. You cringe at how your top sticks to your body from the sweat coating your skin.

"I just had a headache in the morning so I didn't think much of it. But after you left, I was like cold all of a sudden so I used the thermometer and it said I had a fever."

You leave out the part where you almost fainted in the bathroom as you changed back into your pyjamas after calling in sick, not wanting to worry your already worried boyfriend.

"You should've called me, I would've left work in a heartbeat," he says as he presses his lips against your forehead.

You ignore the way your heart flutters at his words, failing to bite back a smile.

"It wasn't even that bad, don't worry. Plus, I'm pretty sure the fever pretty soon after. I just fell asleep on the couch."

"Still. Did you take any medicine?"

"Yeah, I took some painkillers for the headache."

You notice how dry your voice is in your throat, wincing at the pain when you try to swallow.

"Did it help?"

"Not really, but I'm fine now so."

Yoongi places his jacket on the couch and makes his way to the medicine box he had placed in one of the kitchen cabinets, having to look through each one before finding it. He takes two tablets and brings them over to you along with a glass of water.

"I'm fine now, babe, seriously," you mumble, reluctantly taking the tablets and the glass from his hands.

"I don't wanna take any chances, love. Drink up."

He watches you as you tip the glass over your mouth and gulp down its contents. You hand it back over to him with a small sigh, and he places it down on the coffee table.

Your eyes scan over Yoongi's body. He's wearing a simple black hoodie, the one you steal from him the most because of how comfy the fabric is.

You reach out your arms invitingly, wanting nothing more than to melt in his arms after not seeing him the entire day.

"I don't wanna get you more sick though," he says, tilting his head as he runs his hands through his grown-out hair.

A small pout forms on your lips and you throw him a scowl.

"I'll get more sick and die right now if you don't cuddle me."

Yoongi laughs at your words. His gums are on display and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons.

"So dramatic," he mumbles.

The leather beside you sinks beneath his weight as he sits down and you instantly wrap yourself around him. His body radiates warmth and you throw one leg over his lap, snuggling your head closer into his chest.

────

You don't quite remember falling asleep, but when your eyes flutter open, the sunlight in the room is replaced by blue rays emitting from the TV.

Goosebumps erupt across your back and you slightly shiver. The space beside you is empty, Yoongi is no longer there to provide you with any heat.

You blame the moody weather for the chills you feel across your body. You were starting to regret throwing away the patterned blanket a few hours earlier, desperately craving the warmth it had enveloped you with.

A few minutes go by and the only thing on your mind is how you were going to die of hypothermia any minute now. You had closed your eyes in hopes of falling asleep again, but your actions went in vain.

You let out a small groan as you turn your head to try to spot the blanket, trickles of pain erupting from your neck.

The fabric sat just out of your reach, and it seemed to mock your weak attempts at attempting to grab it.

You give up fairly quickly and resort to sitting completely still, trying to dull the ache that pulses through your limbs.

You hadn't been this sick in months and you felt as if this was the universe's way of reminding you how miserable it was.

"You OK?"

Yoongi's voice is deep and you look up to see him standing at the doorway to the living room carrying a plastic bag in one hand.

He throws his keys onto the counter and they hit the marble loudly.

His eyes squint against the harsh light of the TV as he sets down the bag and moves towards you.

"Yeah, I was just tryna get the blanket. Where were you?"

He brushes away a few strands of your hair before resting his hand against your forehead.

"Shit, you're burning up. I don't think a blanket is a good idea, love," he says.

"But it's freezinggg."

Your words come out as a small whine. Yoongi's eyes shift between you and the blanket, weighing out both options.

"How about you go to the bedroom and I can put a wet towel on your head, so you cool down while also being under the duvet?"

You practically shiver at the idea of a cold towel against your skin.

"Fine."

Yoongi reaches out his hand and you hold onto it as you stand up. It takes more energy than anticipated and you wince at the throb of pain in your legs.

"Where were you?" You repeat.

"Oh right. I was gonna make you rice porridge so I needed to get some stuff. Apparently it's great for when you're feeling sick."

You smile at your boyfriend and place a small kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks, baby."

"Mhm, no problem." Yoongi's grateful for the dim lighting of the room so that you don't have the satisfaction of seeing the blush that taints his cheeks.

"I'll bring it to the bedroom, you go lie down."

You nod before slowly making your way to the bedroom as Yoongi moves into the kitchen.

────

By the time Yoongi comes into the room with a bowl in his hand, you're fast asleep again.

You lie completely curled up and covered by the blankets. Your cheeks are flushed from the incredible warmth you are putting your body through.

Yoongi sits down on the mattress carefully, not wanting to disrupt your peace.

"Wake up, love. Your food's ready."

"Not hungry," you mumble, bringing your knees closer to your body.

"You're not gonna get any better if you stay hungry."

You huff and reluctantly stretch out your limbs. With great effort, you lazily sit up against the headboard of the bed.

Yoongi takes a spoonful of the rice porridge and brings it to your lips. You take a mouthful and swallow it down eagerly.

"Not hungry my ass," Yoongi says with an accusing stare and you laugh.

You can't shake off the warm feeling that fills your heart at the domestics of the entire scene at hand as you take another large bite.

You end up eating the entire bowl but decide against asking for seconds. The need to sleep was stronger than anything else right now.

Yoongi leaves the room to put the bowl back and bring you a wet towel. He returns to find you sleeping again.

Your body must be exhausted from fighting whatever sickness had overtaken you for you to be sleeping this much.

He gently places the towel over your forehead, pressing it down so that it doesn't slip off onto the mattress.

Your brows furrow at his actions but you don't wake up. His hand reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, mumbling under his breath.

"Pretty."

Yoongi never thought he would find the one. He believed in love, but the idea of finding someone he could think of as home always seemed too unrealistic, a mere fantasy he would sometimes use for inspiration in his lyrics.

He never thought that the simple thought of someone could brighten his day. Until he met you.

You were chaotic and quiet and everything in between. Someone people could talk to comfortably and freely, someone open-minded and thoughtful.

Everyone seemed to love you, which is why it confused Yoongi whenever you would get flustered at the compliments that fell from his lips.

He thought you would have been used to it. He didn't know how someone could talk to you without showering you with compliments.

When he had told you this one night during the first few months of your friendship—before you started dating—you had laughed, confessing how you rarely ever got compliments. Yoongi still remembers how he had stood there dumbfounded.

Ever since that night, he had made a vow to shower you with compliments.

However, the words soon turned into a habit. They weren't any less truthful, but he found himself whispering them to you even while you were out of earshot or while you slept, like now.

Yoongi stays by your side for a minute longer, simply admiring the way the lamp on your nightstand illuminates your features with its faint glow.

Eventually, he stands up, only to feel your hand grab his before he can take a step.

Your grip is loose and your eyes are still closed, but you lightly tug at the sleeve of his hoodie and he finds himself returning to your side.

"Can you get me the blanket from the living room?"

Exhaustion laces your words despite the numerous naps you had taken throughout the day.

"Aren't you warm enough? I dont want you to have a heatstroke or something."

"I won't, I swear. Please?"

How can Yoongi say no when your voice comes out so fragile and your grip is so gentle. Fuck, you truly did have him wrapped around your finger.

"Fine."

You smile and Yoongi feels his heart skip multiple beats.

Your hand drops from his top and Yoongi retrieves your treasured blanket in less than a minute.

He drapes it over your figure, placing a kiss on your nose as he does so. He fights the urge to immediately slip into the bed beside you, not wanting your sickness to worsen from whatever his clothes may have contracted over the day.

He lazily strips himself and changes into the first pair of sweatpants he sees. He also takes off the wet towel from your forehead, wiping down your face and neck with it before folding it and placing it onto the nightstand.

Finally, he climbs under the duvet beside you. Your body instinctively turns to face his.

Yoongi doesn't expect to feel your lips on his cheek.

"Thank you. I really don't deserve you," you whisper. You drape an arm across his chest and roll onto your stomach, letting out a small moan of pain as you do so.

"You do, baby."

You deserve a lot more than just him taking care of you. You deserve the world itself in your hands and Yoongi knows that if you were to ever ask, he would give it to you in a heartbeat. He would give you the world and so much more.

He leans over your body to switch off the lamp.

"I love you," you whisper, a small yet content smile drawn on your face.

"I love you too."

[myhornysaga]

mmmm what is that certain incident... do graves and lawyer reader have kids ?? Or.... 👀 👀mmmmmm im watching from the shadowzzz

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

A/n: thank you for reading my work anon♡ the secret will be revealed, stay tuned

I'm planning on this chapter be divided in two parts so this is part 1 of this chapter. Songs recommended, in order: people in the front row, end of beginning, angel of the morning.

Tags: mdni, graves x Lawyer wife reader, established relationship, mentions of sex, pregnancy.

Part 2, Series masterlist , M.list

You and Graves had a kid.

A daughter.

She was born with the best of you and your husband Phil.

Just after a year of being married you discovered you were pregnant. Thanks to the little rendezvous the night before your husband was leaving for his 364 days deployment in the middle east.

He was in Marines back then and you worked as a full time criminal lawyer at your father's Firm, one of the three top Law firms specializing in International Laws and Extradition.

You were learning international criminal law under one of the most recognizable lawyers and a dear friend of your father, Mona De La Sierre.

Everything was going smooth, your career was at peak and you were only in your late 20s, till you discovered...

You have missed your periods for 2 months.

At first you had your doubts, no way you could be pregnant right? But its been 2 and half months since you and Phil had- no! Lets not have false hope. A simple pregnancy test will reveal whatever it is!

You sat on the toilet seat of the housing quarter. You had done 3 pregnancy tests and they all came... positive.

And it started.

You couldn't believe you were pregnant. You wanted scream and yell out of happiness and let everyone know Mr and Mrs Graves are having a kid!

You wanted the first person to know about this to be none other than the perpetrator! You couldn't just wait to call him. But you had to wait because you can only call him at night due to different time zones.

Despite staying awake past midnight and 14 calls, none were answered. You tried one last time before giving up and call next day.

The 15th call was answered by someone else.

"Hello? Phil? Babe?", you asked nervously.

"Hello?" The voice said

"Ahem... I'm trying to reach Sergeant Phillip Graves. I'm his wife is he there?" You questioned on the line.

"Uh no maam im sorry but the Sergeant will not be available for four weeks."

"4 weeks? You gotta be kidding me!", you huffed in frustration.

"Thats what im told Mrs Graves."

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

4.5 weeks later.

Location: Marines Reconnaissance Base in [Redacted]

Sergeant Graves had returned to the base after leading a successful Recon mission without any casualties.

"Sergeant!" A marine called out for Graves in his tent, "sir you have a letter from home"

"Just in time", he chuckled as he sat down on his bed after a long and hard few weeks, finally resting on a proper bed instead of a dug out pit.

"The envelope looks big. Look out Graves, this could be divorce papers" one his teammates joked.

"Yeah totally. Chicks throw you divorce paper if you don't talk to em in every two hours. Haha", another one joined in

"Nah boys i don't think its that.", Philip tried to convince.

"Thats what captain Jerome said", another one jumped in and everyone started laughing. While Graves just shook his head while chuckling along and opening the envelope and started reading it.

He stood up straight out of shock, letter still in hand.

"Told ya its them divorce papers", the guys said.

"What is it Graves?", one of them asked in a serious tone now.

Everyone could still see the absolute shock on the Sergeant's face.

His heart was racing out of excitement, "Holy shit boys, im gonna be a father!", Graves said to his teammates.

Everyone in the tent started congratulating him and hugging the man. Some quipped with the question whether the kid is his or- Graves wouldn't let them finish and just hand them the DNA papers, solidifying his paternity.

The letter,

"My love, i hope you are doing well. I tried to reach you several times through call but i was informed that you are not available for 4 weeks.

Its an awful long time to wait to let everyone know. But remember this, i want YOU to be the first to know of this, that you are going to be a FATHER soon!

I checked in with the doctors and its confirmed! I am 3 months in. By the time you arrive, we'll be a family of three my bub.

And before you or your jarhead boys start questioning the legitimacy of OUR child, i will be attaching DNA tests as well, have fun.

So thats that. You are going to be a dad Phil! You better come back in one piece!

With love and warm hugs

Y/n L/n Graves xo".

.

Part 4

[shrike-fic]

CAN WE GET A PART 2 FOR INEXPERIENCED READER PLEASE

i am so invested thank you

NOTE!!!!: this is unfinished im so sorry i lost all motivation, please run me over like that poor thing in the road

It’s been over week since you accidentally called Andrew after he got a bit distracted with himself, unbeknownst to you. He’s been avoiding you with empty promises and soft excuses that were filled with things having to do with “songwriters block” and “label business”. He knew those excused were getting worn too much and you knew it too, so you pushed him to finally get out of his house and take a break from all this “business” that he was so swamped with. He finally accepted your offer, so you waited till that Friday to go out and do one of your infamous bar crawls.

When the day came, you parked outside of his house and he called an uber for the two of you to the side of town with the densest population of pubs. Both of you laughed and danced like you had those couple weeks ago. Shots were taken (maybe a few too many), Drinking games were won and lost, and it was almost like nothing had happened. Almost.

Throughout the night, that same feeling coursed in him. Whiskey sloshing in his head with less than platonic thoughts of you laced through them. Him silently thanking the whiskey for masking his crude blush, he took another big gulp of whatever foul tasting drink was in his hand and setting the glass down back on the table. You had just came back from grabbing two tall cups of ice water as an attempt to not leave both of you completely hung over and dehydrated when you noticed he’d fixed his eyes on the drink you handed him.

“Hey. Andrew. You alright there?” You asked him with a smile and eyebrows knit in slight concern.

“Hm? Oh yeah- no I’m alright, just tired.” His response seemed half baked and not completely truthful.

Of course both of you had grown tired after this adventure, but you’d not seen him like this before. He looked like he was focusing too hard on something, and you were worried that it was what you’d confessed to him on your last bar outing.

“Are you sure? You seem… hard stuck on something. Did I make you like… uncomfortable with what I told you about me last time we were together?”

You didn’t want to push him for an answer, slightly cringing at yourself for bringing that topic up again. You had told him about yourself and your experiences and what you may or may not have had the chance to do. Maybe you dropped a few colorful details in there that weren’t entirely necessary, so you were hoping that you didn’t just entirely make him feel weird around you.

“Ah what? Oh, it wasn’t that at all I promise I’m just tired, I’ve had a long week.” He was lying straight through his teeth. He couldn’t take his mind off of you, and what he had done that night. Hedonistic thoughts shoved those of guilt out of the way and lingered in his head.

“Mm alright, well whenever you’re ready I could call us a ride back to your house. I’m tired and extremely tipsy and could use rest as well.” You offered him a way out with a playful smile, and he took you up on that offer.

The car ride there wasn’t too long, yet Andrew hadn’t wanted it to end. His shoulder was supporting your heavy head, with your eyes dozing off and you still reciting inside jokes you both had acquired through the years. He was sure the uber driver had been sick hearing the two of you giggling in his back seat. When the two of you had made it out of the Uber and onto the stretch of his front porch, you began to give your goodbyes to him and reach in your purse to grab your car keys. He protested you going home because of the “state that you were in” and how you are “in no condition to drive.”

“You couldn’t possibly drive home like that, you’d crash. You could sleep here and drive home in the morning when you’re sober” he was unlocking his front door while saying this to you with a slight hunch in his back. You giggled at the sight with a hazy smile and reluctantly agreed as he held the door open for you. Walking into the house, you set your purse down on the coffee table next to the couches where you started to arrange the pillows to get ready to pass out. It didn’t need to be extremely comfortable, it just needed to be padded enough to not have neck pains in the morning.

“Ehm… you don’t actually think I’d let you sleep on the couch, right? That’s an insult to me more than anything” he let out a soft chuckle in between some words, and walked towards you, helping you off the couch.

“Ah come on Andrew, I’m not expecting you to make the guest room for me when we’re on the brink of death.”

“You’re right, I’m not making it for you, I’m making it for me, and you’ll take my bed.”

Your banter went on like this for a few minutes, yet you gave in again. He let you rummage through his drawers to pick out something more comfortable than the outfit you were wearing now. God how he’d love to see you with nothing on at all. Even just his shirt, with you lying in his bed- He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment. He’s so done for.

The two of you parted ways in the hallway after you swished with mouthwash and he brushed his teeth. He stared hard into the mirror to avoid looking at you as you spat out the foamy white-ish liquid.

The night passed with everyone in his house sleeping peacefully- for the most part. You were fast asleep, hair mussed up with a thin line of drool running from the corner of your mouth and your shoulders in a position that would likely leave you sore in the morning, but it didn’t matter in then.

Andrew on the other hand was uncomfortable for a different reason. Though he was asleep, he was lying on his chest with a pillow between his arms, shallowly rutting into it. The muscles in his face were pulled taught, a tight brow and eyes screwed tight with low slack jaw letting out shakey breaths.

“Oh fuck, Andrew! Please- Gods please keep going!” He’d picture you on your front with your back arched up and your head tilted to the side to peak over your shoulder, with your face buried in the crook of your neck and the bunch of your pillow. Images of a large hand wrapped around your waist and one pushing up one of your thighs from the other flashed in his mind. He could practically feel the skin from the nape of your neck between his teeth with his lips wrapped around them, pressing sloppy kisses to your back and shoulders- And oh, the dream was getting so so delicious, if only the rising sun wasn’t shining golden blotches over his eyelids.

Blinking his eyes open, the first thing he felt was his stiff cock under him, with the sharp feeling of hangover clouding his mind and pressing on the insides of his eyes. Turning from his side onto his back, he runs a hand over the right side of his face. His eyebrows knit with desire and headache, he takes a deep breath before blinking open his eyes more. Lifting his head to look down at his boxers, he could see the stiff outline of a ….problem.

In Andrew’s defense, the aggressive hangover from last night wasn’t exactly helping his critical thinking skills. For some reason, he assumed you had already gone home before he had even woken up- which is why he was laying on his bed, his boxers shoved down to his thighs with one arm covering his eyes and the other hand firmly stroking his cock.

He couldn’t be bothered to muffle his sounds with his palm, he was letting out deep rumbles with breathy pants weaving between them. He couldn’t help replaying the dream he had last night in his mind, with his hips stuttering up after his palm. He couldn’t help the rumbles that started to turn into wanton groans of your name that you could hear from the other end of the house. Really, all of this could have been avoided if he had gone to check if you were still sleeping in the guest room down the hall.

“Hey, Andrew are you puking or something?? I heard-“ you groggily stumbled into his room without knocking, wanting to see if your friend needed help holding his hair back.

“OH MY GOD” Andrew quickly tore his fist away from between his thighs and shoveled the blankets that were thrown around his bed onto his legs.

You were frozen like a deer in headlights, not sure if what really happened, actually happened. Before you was a disheveled Andrew, sitting up in bed with a damp forehead and a furious blush over his face, panting like he had just run a marathon. Your hangover was practically slapped out of you with what you had just walked into, unsure if you should apologize and leave or question him about what exactly just happened.

“Good…. Morning…..” he said cautiously. He didn’t know what to do in that situation. Had you heard him calling your name? Did you see… anything??

“Ah. Uh I’m sorry I thought- I heard my name. So I decided to come check on you. But it looks like you’re fine! Sorry to… interrupt? Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” You were a stuttering mess. He definitely was moaning your name. What. What??? Is this why he had been avoiding you??

“Ehm- yeah… you did hear your name. I thought you had gone?” His heart sank. Why did he say that?? What in the world compelled him to say that??? He felt his face turn scarlet red, matching with the way yours was looking right now.

He lets out a small apology, failing to meet your eyes fully. He’d just admitted to saying your name while jerking off, and there you were standing with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Would you….. do you need.. some help?” You look in his eyes as his dart to yours with a disbelieving look plastered on his face. Stars above, are you really going to do this if he accepts your shoddy attempt at offering yourself to him?

“Are you sure? I mean, you said you’ve never..” he trailed off his last words. His heart sounded like thunder pounding in his chest. He was almost sure you could hear it in the near silent room.

When you nodded your head and slowly started to walk towards him from the doorway of his room, he set his blankets on himself and sat up straighter leaning towards you in anticipation. You slinked into his bed, and for a brief moment, you let out a small giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Andrew lets out a soft quiet chuckle with his eyes flicking from your lips back to your eyes.

Tongue and teeth were clashing together with a flurry of hands pressed to the backs of necks and the sides of faces. Continuing to hold onto his face and kiss him, you take your seat on top of him, straddling his lap and feeling the length of hardness beneath you. For a brief moment, you falter the movement of your tongue and pull back to gasp at the foreign feeling pressed against the bottom of you. He looks up at you in adoration, your eyes so squinted that they’re almost closed, with your eyebrows scrunched in need.

Having the realization of this whole situation hit you, and you take a deep nervous breath. You search his face for any sign of annoyance that you’ve stopped, but you only see devotion and a hint of concern. You lean fully straight up while straddling him, careful not to sit completely on his dick. His hands trail from the back of your neck to your thighs.

“Hey, are you alright? You know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He says while he rubs gentle circles with his thumb onto your left thigh. The last thing he’d want to do is pressure you, no matter how much or how long he’s wanted this moment to happen.

Your chest feels heavy with anticipation. You know you could back out at any time without loosing him in any way. You know he would accept whatever choice you made like a saint. Part of you just wanted to back out now, and be done with all of these anxious feelings. The other part of you, though, hated the idea of stopping. You wanted to be with him, you wanted so badly to take this leap and be with him in this way.

“Darling I can practically hear you thinking. Are you.. alright?” Andrew’s face slowly melting into a more concerned expression. He started to wrap his hands around your back to stop you from falling back as he sat up. You put your hands on his biceps and he stops his upwards movement and lays back down again.

“I do, gods I do. I’m a nervous mess, I just… don’t want you to be disappointed. I don’t want this to be a mistake.”

“What? I’d be anything but disappointed, this is all about you. If anything, I’m the one that should be scared to death of disappointing you!” The mood lightens when all of this is said. All shoulders in the room had a less tense feeling that was on them, almost like a weight dropping off of you two, with soft grins being shared. A moment passes and he looks off to the side with consideration painted on his face. His then eyebrows quirk up and he begins speak slowly.

“Ehm. How about this; I’ll take things to a snail’s pace. And I mean incorrigibly slow. And if you don’t like what I’m doing, say so and I’ll stop right then and there. Does that sound like a plan?” He continues to look up at you with adoration and caution. Ugh, he’ll be the death of you.

You give him a small smile and kiss him on the forehead. You take a deep breath in and whisper out some word of confirmation on the breath out. Andrew gives you a bright smile and sits up, making you almost fall out of his lap. Giggling filled the room as he catches you and rolls you onto your back where he once laid, his body heat in the mattress seeping into your skin. He gives a quick peck to each side of your face, and begins slower, gentler kisses down the side of your neck to your shoulders and then your collar bone.

“Darlin, as much as I love seeing you in my clothes, would I be able to take my shirt off of you?” He toyed with the bottom hem of the oversized t-shirt, his knuckles bumping the meat of your hip every so often sending small shivers through you. His brown doe eyes bored into you, almost begging for permission.

You let out another exhale with a small “yes, please.” Baby steps, you’re fine.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Anywhere

Summary: Let’s thank Hozier for whatever this is because I can only think of it as brainrot. I had a part of this written for almost a year in my docs and couldn’t find inspiration to finish it but thanks to the incarnated Irish god I did.

Pairing: Hook x F!Reader (aka Tiger)

Warnings: Angst, mention of uncontrolled feelings, toxic relationship, self doubt, worthlessness, possible happy ending? idk

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @mjfass , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore , @wickedval

It's the sound of it that brings me there

This city locked into the song of prayer

That finds no melody

Every moment of the working day

The twitching muscles in each step I take

The prayer is all of me

The Black & Mild hung from his lips and sent a white smoke up to the night sky, the burning tobacco somewhat was helping him soothe his instincts but Tyler asked himself for how long the warm smoke inside his mouth was going to be enough to keep his mind distant from the one place it didn’t want to stay away from.

Tyler chose to be absent from work for yet another week, and the backstage gossip was starting to build up to the point of annoyance. Even Tyler’s father had given him one of his famous earfuls earlier that night when he texted to say he wasn’t coming to work that week, and even though hours had passed by, Tyler could still hear his dad’s screams through the FaceTime call.

Another wave of warm smoke filled up his mouth before traveling down to his throat and lungs, all along carrying within itself the one word his father repeatedly had so vehemently: “obsession”.

“You’re obsessed with her, Tyler! Obsessed with a relationship you can’t stop fucking it up, snap out of it, son! Move the fuck on! Leave that poor girl alone, Tyler. You’ve done too much damage to get her back now, so put on your big boy pants, accept the results of your damn mistakes, stop destroying everything around you, stop destroying your fucking career, let her move on, get over this unhealthy obsession, and grow.the.fuck.up!”

This wasn’t obsession though, it was love in its raw, ugly, perverse, and deepest form. “Love doesn’t have to hurt”, they say. Yeah, sure, tell that to someone so desperate to make a relationship work that they commit every single possible mistake one can make. Perhaps this was what had doomed Tyler, he loved her too much.

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

When Tyler was 15 years old, his father took him to Joe’s barber shop two blocks down their house to have his first proper ‘man’ shave. As the older man began to spread the shaving cream on Tyler’s face, his father began “See, son, a man may like many women, we may grow fond of several females and keep them in our heart but if there’s one thing you should know is that a man only loves once. Real love will only be found once, in one single woman, and it doesn’t matter whether your relationship ends up working or not, you will forever love that woman until the day you die.”

“No matter how many girls you know afterward, no one will be able to replace the one woman who owns your heart. So once you find that girl, son, make sure you love, respect, and care for her. Do everything in your power to treat her like a queen, because that will be the woman who’ll forever live in your heart”.

Tyler did his best to treat her like a queen, but some things escaped his ability of self-control. Tiger is gorgeous, she is breathtaking, has the most wonderful personality, she’s incredibly smart, the most beautiful smile Tyler has ever seen, whenever she smiles it’s like the world has been put underneath a bright spotlight. She’s funny, caring, loving, she’s the best friend anyone could ever have, and the most addicting lover, sex with Tiger is out of this world, an out-of-body experience. There’s something special about sex with her, every touch is meaningful, every kiss is a silent promise of eternal love, and with every thrust, Tyler always felt their souls connecting.

He’s aware of how this sounds like some sort of hippie talk, but there was something incredibly spiritual and powerful about Tiger that only seemed to grow during sex. Although he wasn’t one to brag, Tyler has fucked a fair share of girls ever since he was 15 years old, and until he met Tiger, he was sure no woman would ever be able to handle him properly.

But even though sex was important to Tyler - and had been the base of every relationship he had until Tiggy came up - it shockingly wasn’t the sole reason why he loved her.

Tyler caught himself craving for her in more than sexual ways, he craved her affection, her touch, her capacity to begin a conversation about anything from something she saw on the news to curiosities about religions worldwide. He craved to see her smile, to hear her loud awkward laugh, to watch her cooking while using the wooden spoon as her own personal microphone. Tyler craved her advice on life, friendships, and work. He craved to hear her voice after a nightmare, to listen to her whisper-singing as a way to help him go back to sleep. He craved her, just having her there with him, craved the knowledge of having her waiting for him somewhere. Above anything else, Tyler missed how Tiger could bring peace to his soul just by existing.

And such peace seemed to be so distant to achieve now, that the world resembled a dark pit of miserableness, emptiness, and death. A limbo Tyler was certain he would never be able to leave.

Maybe I have yet to venture out

See the places that I hear about

Planes and trains and cars

Carve their lines into a curve like blades

All I get to are mistakes half-made

Leave the door ajar

Her wet footprints were unnoticeable against the damp concrete. Her eyes wandered around the streets, searching, wondering, pretending…She tried to make it work, but trying became tiring once it turned into a routine.

It was all too much, the arguing, the outbursts of jealousy, the lack of communication, the distrust, the assumptions..those killed her the most.

‘Where were you?’, ‘Why was he looking at you like that’, ‘Why didn’t you answer your phone if you were really with your mom?’, ‘Why do you smell like aftershave?’, ‘Why are you lying to me, Tiger?! Just tell me the fucking truth!’

Jealousy is not as glamorous as the books make it seem, it’s quite the opposite actually, it kills your mind along with your feelings until there comes a day when you realize that you don’t feel anything at all, and that’s when sadness takes over.

Mourning over something that once brought you so much happiness is a strange feeling. Looking at someone who used to be so dear to you and slowly watching them become the most despicable monster before your eyes is the most brutal thing one can go through. Love is such a delicate feeling, it’s alarming to see how quickly it can die when it stops being nourished. Tiger never believed it would be possible to stop loving Tyler, but life and its cruel - yet valuable - lessons showed her otherwise, it showed her how fairly easy it is to stop loving someone.

She never saw it coming, the day that she would leave the small one-bedroom apartment in New York behind, yet she did. Otherwise, how could she still be living? Even more so, how could Tyler still be alive if she hadn’t left that place for good?

Tiger loved freedom, while Tyler didn’t understand its meaning. Tiger wanted to be free with Tyler, as for Tyler, there was no freedom if he was with Tiger.

But I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, you are

She was the air that filled his lungs, so how could anyone live without air? Tyler tried to explain that to her over and over, but all he heard back was ‘You’re killing me, Ty! You’re suffocating me so much that I feel like I’m dying’. She said other fumbled words in between but that phrase was the only thing that sank into Tyler’s ears. He went deaf after that.

Tiger tried to find a middle ground, she thought therapy could help but how do you talk to someone who doesn’t want to utter a word? It’s pointless to try to fix a relationship when for it to work is a double-sided sword. Tiger couldn’t fix something that didn’t depend only on her, but Tyler was the king of perfection, Mr. There’s Nothing Wrong. So she just gave up, she couldn’t play tug-war anymore, she just wanted to leave and never go back to the Hell she was living in.

Love is not enough, it would never be enough, not if it was all it takes for a relationship to work. And both Tiger and Tyler learned that the hard way.

His eyes found her across the street, holding her small notepad and iconic glittery pen. She never came to this part of town, which made Tyler frown with worry. But her features seemed relaxed, serene even, as she observed the tall trees and how the thin rain droplets splattered the green leaves. ‘This is such a weird hobby’ Tyler thought to himself when they first met ‘Watching the leaves on a tree and scrambling down how it makes you feel’.

Tiger categorized it as ‘therapeutic’, and once she explained how it helped her ease her racing mind Tyler began admiring her for it.

Ironically enough, that was how they met back then, and now is how he meets her again after 6 months of their break up.

Watching her now, after everything Tyler knew and went through with her had him contemplating Tiger under a new light. ‘Perhaps she is happier like this, without you’ Tyler caught himself thinking, noticing how the lightheartedness that once was Tiger’s biggest quality seemed to have returned to her eyes now that she didn’t have him in her life anymore.

It’s sad to notice how the only person that you love so dearly seems to be better without you than when they were with you. Only now Tyler notices how he had killed Tiger during their time together. He killed her lightness, her freedom, her carefree nature. He transformed her into this sad caged bird that didn’t find happiness in singing anymore.

‘If you could go back in time, would you be different? Act differently? Approach things from another perspective?’ Tyler’s conscience asked him.

“Yes” Was his answer out loud, his eyes fixed on the wet pavement, without being able to keep looking at her.

‘Why? Because of your selfish reasons? Because you knew that you’d lose her if you didn’t?’ It asked him back.

But prayer

Is all of me, all of me

The prayer

Is all of me, all of me

“No” Tyler answered sincerely “Because I now know that she deserves better, way better than I ever was…way better than I could ever be”.

Tyler’s eyes tentatively looked up again, in the hopes of imprinting her true self into his mind one last time, until his orbs stopped at her caramel-colored coat standing right before him.

Tiger’s eyes wandered his face, focusing on his eye patch for a couple of seconds before asking “Are you a pirate now?”

For the first time in 6 months, Tyler let out a chuckle, “Maybe…If you like pirates then sure, I’m a pirate. But if you don’t, then I’m just a loser. The biggest asshole to ever walk the earth”.

“Yeah, that you are” She smiled sadly “Have you learned anything from it though?”

“Yeah, I did” Tyler’s fingers twitched to touch her, but he would never allow himself that, he didn’t deserve it. “Are you really here, Tiggy? I’m afraid I’m dreaming…but I don’t to be dreaming, I want this to be real”

“It could be real, Ty” She caressed his smooth cheek before smiling and sitting down beside him on the damp concrete “Wanna tell me what you’ve learned in life so far?”

But I'd be

Anywhere that you are, that you are

That I'd be

Anywhere that you are, you are

[jhdyuiee]

Be There for Me

✮ pairing: bf!jaehyun x gf!reader

✮ wc: 1.4k (exactly)

✮ warnings/tags: fluff, slight cursing, suggestive (happens only once), kissing/making out (towards the end)

✮ a.n: Merry Christmas! I planned on releasing the fic i’ve been working on today, but it’s still in progress ㅠㅠ, im planning on releasing it soon though! bear with me, this is my first time writing so much. i hope this fic makes up for my delay… i wrote this small Christmas Jaehyun special, while hearing the new NCT 127 Winter Special && omg is it so good! “White Lie” got me crying ngl… Anyways Merry Christmas to you all && I hope you enjoy my first fic. Stay tuned for more! jiji out 🤍

Christmas Eve.

The snow fell, just in time for Christmas. As I continued watching the falling snow my phone rang. ‘Who could it be?‘

Jaehyun.

Read the caller ID. He’s my boyfriend.

“Hey babe,” I answered.

“Hey my love, quick question,” he asked.

“Ask away.”

“Can I take you out on a date tomorrow?”

I was speechless to say the least, usually he’d come over or i’d go over to him during Christmas, nothing too special was done.

“Ye-Yeah, sure.”

“Great! I’ll come pick you up at 7 p.m tomorrow,” he said excitedly.

“Mm, sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow then love,” I said bidding him a goodbye.

“I love you Y/N,” he said lovingly, his voice so sweet, so angelic.

“I love you too Jae.”

I felt like a teenager in love all over again. Embarrassing to admit, but I was overly excited, overflowing with happiness about the fact that Jaehyun had just asked me out on a date- a Christmas date! That’s like every girl’s dream!?

‘What was I gonna wear?’ ‘Should I go to sleep now?’ ‘What aboht my hair?’ ‘Should I shower today or wait til tomorrow?’ Endless questions flowed through my head. Ultimately deciding on sleeping earlier. ‘I must be well rested!’ I told myself.

So just like that, I peacefully drifted off to sleep, fully anticipating whatever was to come tomorrow.

Christmas Day.

Just as I slept early, I awoke early as well. It was now 8 a.m, a little earlier than usual. I got up, looking out the window, the snow beginning to melt. I made my way back to my bed and made it, eating breakfast afterwards, and cleaned- I basically did my regular chores around the house before getting ready. After all, today was my date.

Once I got the chores out of the way I hopped in the shower, the first thing on my list of preparations for the date.

Luckily, I had found the perfect outfit for this occasion. It was a red-wine colored bodycon dress that hugged my curves so beautifully. All that was left now was my hair and makeup.

With an hour left to spare, I slightly curled my hair and went for a natural makeup look. As I looked for a purse, my phone rang. Of course, it was none other than Jaehyun.

I answered, “Are you here already?”

“Not yet, almost. I still have 5 minutes till I arrive,” he said.

“Wow, punctual as always.”

“Are you almost ready though?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just need to put on my shoes.”

“Good, then i’ll be waiting downstairs for you, beautiful.”

I took one last look before leaving, locking the door. I made my way downstairs, easily spotting Jaehyun’s car. It was as if he knew I was already there, exiting his car and walking towards me. He looked speechless, like an angel had just appeared in front of him.

“Fuck, you look so hot Y/N. What if we just go back to your apartment and fuck?”

I hit his chest. “Jaehyun!”

“Kidding, I can tell you spent your time getting ready,” he said, giving my forehead a peck. “Shall we?” he said, guiding me to the passenger seat of his car, opening the door.

He started the car and we were off. I still didn’t know where he was taking me, he never told me. But part of me feels like it was to some fancy restaurant.

My suspicions were later proven correct. We had arrived at some fancy restaurant, it was better than the ones from before. In fact, this one has been quite popular on social media as of late. Upon entering, I noticed it was packed.

‘How were we gonna get in?’ I thought. It’s like Jaehyun read my mind because he said, “I booked us a reservation, don’t worry.”

We walked to the front, “Reservation for two,” Jaehyun said.

“For?” asked the waiter.

“Jeong Jaehyun.”

The waiter took a while before saying, “Right this way.” He guided us to our seats.

The Rooftop.

Wow.

The view from here was absolutely breathtaking. Even more so now that the sun was setting.

“Beautiful, right?”

“Yeah, how were you even able to get us this Jae?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Oh god, you’re so corny,” I said laughing.

We ordered our food, I settled on some pasta and Jaehyun on steak with two sides of his choice.

The food was absolutely delicious, they weren’t kidding. This might’ve been the best pasta i’ve ever tasted.

“This pasta is so good, want some? I offered some to Jaehyun. He gladly ate it, reminding me as if he were some little kid.

Once we finished eating, he’d secretly ordered us a dessert. A good-ol banana split. We shared it and it reminded me of back when we first started dating.

“Brings back memories doesn’t it?” he said, he must’ve also felt nostalgic.

I nodded, feeling the same way. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be back,” I said excusing myself.

When I came back no one was there. The tables were all cleared, even Jaehyun was nowhere to be found.

‘That’s weird,’ I thought. I swear I wasn’t gone for long, thr bathroom line was what kept me. As I stayed in my thoughts I heard something coming from behind me. I turned noticing a projector screen coming down. I was confused, ‘What’s going on? Some kind of prank?’

Suddenly a video started playing. I froze. Speechless.

It was of me- me and Jaehyun. Our fondest memories, playing on that screen.

I felt tears trickling down my face, my makeup surely ruined. It was beautiful. As the video reached its end, I saw someone emerge. It was him, Jaehyun.

Jaehyun walked towards me, stopping in front of me. He got down on one knee, grabbing my hands in his.

Oh.

I know what this was now. I know why he invited me here today. Just the thought of what was going to unfold, triggered more tears down my face.

“Y/N,” he said, kissing my left hand.

“My beautiful girlfriend. The past 4 years and even before that have been the greatest moments of my life. You were like the light at the end of a tunnel, you are my light. You gave me hope in this life. There hasn’t been a day where my love for you has faded, in fact it grows with every passing day. It’s come to the point where saying ‘I love you’ isn’t enough. We’ve gone through our fair share of ups and downs with one another, yet we still continue being by each other’s sides. Which is why, as of today I want to continue this journey with you, for as long as I live. I want to be with you, become family with you. I want to be yours and for you to be mine for as long as we both shall live.”

He let go of my hands, fetching something under his coat. Revealing a small velvet box. He opened it revealing the most beautiful diamond ring. My dream ring.

“Y/L/N will you marry me?”

I knew this was gonna happen, but I was still left speechless. The tears were nonstop. What did I do to deserve this, deserve him. He was like my sun, my life shined so brightly because of him. I truly love this man.

Shakily I replied, “Y-YES! Of course i’ll marry you.”

Jaehyun smiled, so big and bright, his beautiful dimples on full display. That might’ve been the happiest i’ve ever seen him.

He took out the ring from the box, slipping it onto my ring finger. He must’ve been nervous, as he was shaking quite a bit. He got up, bringing me into a hug. He lifted me up, spinning me in circles. I wished time would stop, so that I could treasure this moment.

He finally put me back down, now just staring at me, admiring me. I probably looked like a hot mess, but that didn’t matter to him.

“Thank you Y/N,” he said, tears finally falling down his cheeks.

“I love you so much Jae,” i say, squeezing his cheeks, trying to wipe away his tears.

“I love you way more wife.”

He leaned in, kissing me. We passionately kissed one another, tasting our tears in between. I could feel him smile as we kissed. He pulled away first, resting his forehead on mine.

This truly was the Best Christmas Ever.

© jhdyuiee

2023.12.24

thank you for reading, my first fic! i’ll be back in the future for more! stay tuned && let me know any remarks. Stay safe and Merry Christmas 🤍

[norrisreads]

Dangerous Woman 2 #CS55

PAIRING: carlos sainz x reader!, non racer carlos sainz jr x reader!

SUMMARY: being arranged married to carlos sainz, will the both of you work the marriage or will the next step be signing the divorce papers

WARNINGS: age gap, arranged married related, no smuts! tensions ofc, will be a 4 part series, inc of smau! angst, fluff (in the future?)

part 1

full masterlist

Carlos definition of a date in his mind was a normal casual dinner date, not a date where the both of you would’ve enjoyed because right now while waiting for both of your food to arrived, there was a thick air of tension surrounding both of you.

“will you explain what is going on or are we supposed to sit here in silence?” you spoke, cutting off his train of thoughts

not far from your table you could notice the presence of the trio that was peeping towards your table, it’s not a secret when they’re out there wearing the exact same thing that you last saw them in.

“i’m aware lando have told you i’ve broken up with her” nodding your head agreeing to the statement

“I’ll appreciate if i could rekindle this situation, slowly”

now, you’re laughing because why now? why rekindle after a year?

“that’s funny sainz, the last thing i’ve heard from you was that you threw away our friendship over, just because you thought this marriage would meddle in to your relationship”

“you would’ve done the same thing, y/n. you don’t understand”

What did he meant that you wouldn’t understand? what about the nights you sobbed to him about how much you’ve loved your ex, but your parents would never approve of him which led the both of you to part ways

“i would’ve done the same thing carlos, but i couldn’t. it’s different for me because i’m not the head of the family, i’m just a woman who has to listen to everything my father says. I loved him, but i couldn’t do it anymore so i truly understand carlos. I’ve never once threw away our friendship but instead you, you’re selfish and you’re unaware of it”

you expected a reply but all he gave you was a slight nod agreeing to whatever you’ve just told him

“let’s just eat, we’re here anyways, and it would be great if those trios of yours join us instead of trying to hide themselves, because it’s not working”

it’s been two weeks since then, there was an improvement in carlos attitude towards you, he would pick you up daily from your shifts, asked you out to dinner and he’s actually treating you like a wife should have been treated, which was odd but it did healed a part of your heart knowingly this is exactly the way you wanted to be treat as a wife.

“you’ve been nothing but glowing these past few days, what’s going on?” you’re currently on face-time with your best-friend, casually keeping up with each other gossips

“it’s carlos, he’s been treating me differently ever since that dinner date” setting up your phone on your table, while you’re removing your left over makeup

“well that’s great isn’t it? you guys are married so, least he could do is start treating you like a wife”

your best friend have always had a grudge towards Carlos, ever-since you’ve told her about both yours and Carlos rough past

“yeah and i guess im still getting used to it, but she’s gonna come back anytime sooner, this isn’t the first and surely would not be the last”

sighing while removing your makeup, from your phone screen you could see your best friend shrugging her shoulders agreeing with whatever you’ve just said to her

“he does that everytime, y/n. it’s all up to your choices love”

just then you heard your front doors open with voices trailing behind, “i think he’s homed, i’ll text you in a while, love you”

with that you ended the call with your best-friend and walked to your living room only to be greeted with carlos and his friends

“is there something going on today?” you were confused, you weren’t aware of the invitation of his friends over to your house

“they were just stopping by for dinner, would you like to join us?”

“It’s alright, your mom came by and brought over some food. I’ll just heat them up for you guys”

with that, carlos left the kitchen to entertain his friends

you weren’t particularly fond of his friends, other than the three who’s always around the both of you, these friends were different

you knew the friend group that he sticks by has been there for him since childhood and they’ve particularly were more fond of her rather than you.

there were many times you’d eavesdrop their conversations and those times were when you’d listen to their bad remarks about your marriage.

you knew who carlos ex girlfriend was, you’ve met her multiple times due to carlos and your family gathering that’s on-going for every year.

you’d be lying if you think she wasn’t beautiful because she is, no one knew but you’d sometimes compare the both of you because clearly she was the better looking.

your train of thoughts left your mind when you felt hands snaking around your waist

“what’s going on with that mind of yours, i’ve been calling for you to join us”

you could smell that strong perfume of his and a tint of sweetness which you for sure know it’s neither his nor yours because the perfumes you wore were always citrusy scents, and that was one sign you should have never choose to ignore

taglist ; @iissza @spngi @sainzluvrr @slut4lando

link to taglist

a/n : thank you for the support & love for dangerous woman 🥹! i’ve received multiple inboxs asking when will i post the next part, so here you go <3!

[bunniesnuggie]

modern cg! ellie headcanons!!!!

ellie williams x fem little!reader

summary: just some quick long thoughts thrown together about my fav fictional lesbian as a (first time) caregiver, a little bit halloween themed

♡ ok so first of all, she had to be told, very directly matter of fact. she could literally find an adult pacifier and would think nothing of it, she wouldn’t question any gear or “strange” behaviour

ellie was frantically looking for her phone charger, she swore it was plugged in by the nightstand. she huffs looking under the wood not seeing the cord, so she starts pulling stuff out from under the bed. pulling out a box with stickers all over it and your name in puffy paint, she smiles at the cute box but continues on her search. opening the nightstand drawers she pulls out everything inside. she groans, still not finding it, you walk in just in time to hear her aggressive groan and see her gripping your favorite paci. you blankly stare not knowing what to say, but she just turns and asks “have you seen my charger? i cant find it anywhere” as she tosses the plastic guard back in and closes the drawer.

♡ so yeah, bby girl literally would not bat an eye at you if your regressed in front of her. you would have to tell her what’s happening and why if you want her involved more than just being there watching joining you color

“why are we watching this again? didn’t we just watch it like yesterday” ellie teases you about the cartoon you put on again, pulling out your favorite coloring book for you, you blush and ask if she wants it off. “i’m just teasing baby, i love hotel transylvania” she say’s seriously, poking your side to make you giggle. she hands you you’re coloring book and you sit watching the colorful but spooky cartoon. you start getting deep into your headspace, coloring with breaks to giggle at what’s on the tv. “mama hand me the gween pease” you ask, ellie immediately handing you the requested crayon without even looking up from her face page “here baby”

♡ neither of you notice the slip up right away, you realize once the crayon is in your hand. immediately freezing up, not daring to look at her. she notices your silence when you don’t laugh at a part that normally kills you

“you ok sweetheart?” she asks, putting her hand to your cheek, worried you don’t feel good. your face is solemn and you cheeks are hot. “do you not feel good?”, she makes you look at her, your teary eyes meeting her worried green ones. you sniffle and shake your head, “i called you…mama…” you trail looking away, murmuring towards the end, embarrassed and ashamed. “so?” she shrugs not understanding the problem “you can call me whatever you want, it don’t bug me none….” she tries to smile at you, not getting why you’re so upset. it’s definitely something you kind of have to spell out

♡but once she knows, she KNOWS, i’m talking child development books and parenting books. mama is ready for her role, even strongly encourages that you make a space in the house that’s little friendly. insisting you keep out your gear rather than hide it in the box under the bed

she watches you pulls out the box, sliding it across the floor and on front of the two of you. “this is my little box, it’s where i hide my gear, we’ll that’s not like my stuffies and stuff.. “ you say nervously, eyeing her and the box, waiting for her move. but she waits, smiling at you, “wanna show me your stuff bubs?” she asks excitedly, genuinely wanting to see. she decided that one little box is not enough and constantly buys you new gear, she even asks where your favorite shops are so she can order from them, asking if there’s anything you want in particular.

♡ she’s not super strict, she’s like a fun older sister. like she lets you eat candy and sweets with meals, stay up late to watch tv with her, rarely days no to you. only when it bites her im the butt does she go into mama mode. so if you get grumpy or snappy from lack of sleep and too ouch sugar, she starts to put limits on things

“baby” she sighs a bit, watching the goosebumps rise on your arms. she has you’re sweater in her hand and has been trying to get you to put it on, “please bun, can you put on your jacket? your gonna catch a cold” she begs, watching you scoop the guts from your pumpkin, the sticky orange goop up to your arms. your shake your head frowning, “gonna get da guts on it ..” you pout. ellie smiles and gestures to let her show you something. you put down the big metal spoon you’ve been using to scoop out the guts, letting ellie wipe your hands with baby wipes she the puts on your sweater. she rolls the baggy sleeves up past your elbow, leaving your arms exposed but zipping up the front. you grin, feeling warm and cozy and not having to worry about making a mess on your clothes.

♡ she loves being a caregiver, it have her a sense and of purpose. makes her feel important and needed, she thrives knowing that you trust her and only her in this special mind set and she will protect and cherish it with her life

you and ellie’s are sitting at the table; crayons, markers, glue sticks, scarp pieces of gelt scatter the surface. ellie is using the saftey scissors to cut out little white ghosts for you, the two of you doing little halloween crafts all day. there’s a knock on the door that interrupts us, ellie telling you to stay out while she answers it. she pulls open the heavy wood to reveal dina, our neighbor, who stands with a plate of cookies. she smiles and greets ellie, going to walk inside, being close enough with you two to be comfortable to invite herself in. normally this is fine, but ellie stops her, looking back at you at the table. biting her lip she shakes her head, “i’m sorry dina now’s not really a good time” she presses, lips tight, not letting anyone see you in your regressed state. she takes the cookies and thanks her before sending her off, bringing you the plate with a smile. “look baby, dina bright pumpkin cookies” you clap and squeal “yay cookie! mama tan i have one pease?” how could she ever say no?

a/n: hello everyone i am back, it took me like a week to finish this and it’s not even proofed lol. but anyways i’m glad to be back, i went through a pretty invasive surgery recently and it took a large toll on my life and daily routine but everything went well and all it fine :D anyway i hope to be posting more, i have a couple new characters i want to write about and some fun ideas. i’ll probably go through and do some requests soon though bc there’s a lot 🫠

tag list/

@bootlegmothman420 @angelbaby-fics @lil-baby-bat @stardancerluv @lulubooboo @albino-otaku @xxghostie-ghoulxx @stuckysgirl27 @sunshinee-bear

let me know if you want to be added/removed from my tag list ♡

[storiesofsvu]

happy thursday!

 Fuck me I missed the first couple of minutes, got too distracted cooking.. oop

Okay… would it not be SUPER random for the new lieu to just show up in the middle of the night in a crime scene? Ok, she doesn’t know, so maybe there is something weird going on. Still gonna miss kate though.

Howd they get that far into the crime scene and not know she was a prosector?

So brady’s already way more hands on than kate was, and part of me likes that and part of me doesn’t. cause I was always praising kate for being more of what an actual CO would be, trapped in the office with paperwork and bureaucracies rather than running through the field with their detectives. I do think I like brady so far but that could definitely change.  Not sure how the cops feel about that yet either LOL.

Ok well at least they gave us a reason Dixon left… would’ve been nice if we’d gotten that resolution on screen? Like give the actress a .5 second cameo??

Husband is ALWAYS the main suspect. Even if his alibi did check out (though Id still like a little twist…)

Ugh. Still hate price though.

“your girl’s got a bad attitude” bruh. Don’t come or sam, she’ll come for you worse.

Oh calm down Nolan, let your baby ada go a little feral. They all do it over on svu. Sam deserves it

God she’s so friggin pretty….

Shaw needs a bigger bullet proof vest that shit barely protects anything…

Okay so is sam like, going off to cry and not know how to deal with the rest of the case or is she about to go feral??

Well there’s still 20 mins left so maybe a twist is coming? (or at least more with sam which is what I want out of every ep lol)

Was that supposed to be an opening argument? Why was it happening at the end of the day? Im so confused, but hey whatever.

When are we gonna get a piece of Sam’s backstory that ISNT about her sister?

Okay, they EITHER need to show us some more mentor/mentee/sibling growth/relationship between sam & Nolan OR we need to get them both a side character to lean on in difficult moments. Cause rn it just seems weird and a little awkward. Like they work together every day but they never seem that *friendly* towards each other…

Welp. That ep was okay, it had potential to be better but I’ll let it slide lol. Mothership is never my favourite.

*

SVU time!

(man it is SO great to not have to sit through fucking Toronto anymore lol. Will miss OC though..)

Benson picking up the new girl? Oookay. Interesting, interesting, her dad’s a cop, nice background. Honestly I like her already MORE than I did based off just pictures.

Fins guns named after his ex wife or was that lazy writing?? OKAY GOOD! IT WAS A CALLBACK. Thank fuck cause im sick of shit getting forgotten about.

“why do I feel like the captain’s testing me?” said every rookie of the squad ever… like, youre new to the squad, of course she’s gonna keeping you on a leash/making sure you’re actually ready for svu.

I do lowkey like that we jumped into her time on the squad though, she’s already been there for 3 weeks rather than showing us when she originally met the squad, takes off some of the awkwardness/hostility that we usually see (hopefully lol)

Uuggggghhhh “campus security” COME ON. NO. we’ve learnt this already!  (plus I thought they were off campus? Could be wrong lol. I dunno what “off campus housing” technically means lol)

Who says shelly was the one to set it up??

“college is different these days” bruh… really??? Also there’s like 1000 reasons why she wouldn’t mention it, esp to cops lol.

“it possible teddy set up the camera” yeah bud, ive been saying this. Whoever was the first to move in was likely the person who did it.

Bruno looks great this season… just sayin

Okay so shelly really is the one who set up the camera??

Jfc that got out of control fucking fast

“UNY” gotta love how they have to shift specific things to fictional that are actually real things.

He downloaded the threesome and watched it at least six times before possibly heading over to murder them? Imma need a better timeline on all this. Okay, 1 am… the other dude came home at midnight to see the threesome starting. So… when were they killed? Cause this timeline aint timelining but I’ll let it slide due to lazy writing

Okay, I do really like the Silva is one of those true blood nyc-ers, especially being paired w Velasco that balances out really well for their jobs. The bit with the hammer was very old school svu, the whole “hey, that’s okay, we’ll bring you another one, a nicer one, even better I promise” would’ve only been made better if she’d turned to Velasco and said “give him a twenty for his time”. Lool.

Is there gonna be some last minute twist here…

Carisi looks fantastic in the blue suit

I cannot help but laugh on shows that aren’t R/NC rated when they have to show people having sex/doing things that they would obviously be naked for yet because it’s PG they’re all covered with a sheet. Like.. no one has a threesome like that LOL.

Carisi yells too much on the stand…

Glad that we got some nice benson/carisi bestie soft moments tonight. I miss those

Okay…so they’re trying out a new formula with introducing new cast members and I’m curious. Like, she’s already in the title card and has her own credit pic in the opening so she’s obvi here to stay for at least a season, but she was barely in the ep. We got little tidbits about her, got to see her interacting mainly with benson and Velasco, maybe I like that better than the way they normally throw someone new at us the same “day” they’re “meeting” the rest of the squad and going through that awkward rookie phase. It’s been almost a month now, she’s settled in at least a little bit, benson seems super friendly with her, she’s comfortable around benson, she’s cool with Velasco, not afraid to step on toes, but also doesn’t come across super cocky “I know more than you” kinda vibes when new characters pull something fancy out of their asses that no one else can think of kinda thing. I didn’t know how to feel about her from just promo pics cause she lowkey looks like a lost/kicked puppy in the stills but so far she’s giving good vibes.

Episode overall was okay. Not what I would’ve expected from a season premier, but I’ll take what I can get.

Feels weird to be done in 2 hours. Esp considering it’s only 8. I miss OC, mainly Bell. Also interesting that they’ve been filming just as long as the other two but they’re not going to air until next year?? I know streaming does shit differently than network but still. I’m stoked to see who gets the first “fuck” (it better be Ayanna but I’m sure it’s gonna be Elliot. Lol. Would absolutely die if it was Bernie though.)

Alright. Welp. That’s my tidbits on tonight.

Beth/Rita on next week’s OG and that’s both suuuuper fucking exciting and also makes me nervous at the same time. Here’s hoping it ends up well and I’d LOVE to see her and sam get some screen time together.

See ya then!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

For make me write!!

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (I love this fic and everything about it and I can’t even go into why but thank you for writing and sharing and I’m excited about part 2)

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡(The last chapter was so sweet and I’m so excited to see where Buck and Eddie’s journey is next with the wedding and future plans. And yay for good communication).

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮 (Ah the Bobby seeing Buck’s past had me in tears I don’t think Im ready for the opposite of that)

🚨🚨🚨🚨(I went from emotional to OH NO real quick)

🩸🩸 (Eddie healing from all his trauma in this one is just *chefs kiss*)

💐(The couple of snippets I have seen, this one about May just seems so interesting! Plus I love getting to see recurring/non-main characters heads!)

HI!!! THANK YOU!

30 for 🦮 (THANKS! I am so excited to share Pt. 2)

---

 One, trying to work from home with a little kid in the house. Two, knowing that, elsewhere, Eddie is struggling considerably with missing his son. And, three, the fact that Cranberry seems to be matching Buck’s bored, cagey energy. 

Christopher is a great kid. Really, the best. But he’s still a kid. And the novelty of online school - for both student and teacher - means a lack of order and structure that leads to him inevitably seeking out Buck several times an hour. Buck has to give him a stern talk about interrupting meetings if it’s not an emergency. And no, needing a Rice Krispie Square is not an emergency. Although Buck understands the urgency. He’s been snacking on them lately, too, and they’re sort of addictive.The point is, it’s not easy sharing the same space with a kid literally all the time with no breaks. Even a kid he genuinely adores. Especially when he’s never been anyone’s primary caregiver before, other than Cranberry. 

As for Eddie, Buck knows he’s not adjusting great. They talk every single day. Often multiple times a day. He tries to put up a brave face, but he misses his son and feels badly for leaving him again. 

“It just brings back old shit,” he explains one evening over FaceTime. “Like I’m back where I started. Even if I know that’s not true.”

He’s not alone at least. Hen and Chim have both moved into Buck’s apartment temporarily, too. Which Buck thinks sounds crazy crowded. But he gets it. They both have families to protect. And with Maddie recently announcing her pregnancy, Chim is extra anxious. So, at least Eddie has company. People to look out for him at work and away from it. Because right now, there’s not a lot Buck can do for him, other than be a constant ear. 

“You’re already doing the most important thing for me,” Eddie argues when Buck expresses this. 

---

24 for ⚡(thank you!!!! I am plowing full steam ahead on this wedding hahah because I want to get past it):

---

“Shall we take a look at the bedrooms?” Gianna asks. 

“Definitely,” Eddie replies. 

She leads them down the hallway to where three white-walled bedrooms of different sizes wait to be viewed. The master has a lot of space. It’s got an odd sort of shape, longer than it is deep. But the ensuite bathroom is kind of a dream. Shower and tub. Spacious. Recently redone, so it doesn’t need any work. 

Yeah, Buck can see himself enjoying this master suite very much. And enjoying Eddie in it, too… 

The other bedrooms are good sizes too. One is almost as big as the master, minus the closet space and bathroom. 

“Chris would appreciate that,” Eddie says. 

The other is a bit tinier, but would be perfect for a, well, tinier person. 

By the end of the house tour, Buck realizes he doesn’t actually have a single major complaint. 

“What do you think?” Gianna asks. 

Eddie looks at Buck hopefully. He likes it. Buck knows he likes it. 

“I think we should talk about it,” Buck concedes. “It’s got everything we need and it’s close to family.”

---

18 for 🔮(TBH the Bobby one is sadder):

---

He doesn’t matter here. 

He retracts his hand. 

“Charlie, please,” their mother says.

Charlie huffs. “Fine. Whatever.”

The rest of the drive is silent. Bobby wipes the tears off his face, presses his cheek to the glass of the window, and stares off into space. Buck wishes he could crack open his head and look inside. He wants so desperately to understand what he’s thinking. Past and present. 

Buck wonders if Bobby has always been so hard to read. If he has always kept what’s hurting him so close to his chest. Did this start recently? With his father dying? Or before? How much agency does a kid have in their emotional reactions? Buck knew he often felt out of control at this age.

---

12 for 🚨(hahahaha sorry):

---

“Are you sure you’re okay with me taking your room, Eddie?” Hen asks when they arrive on the first day. “One of us can take the couch. Really.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Eddie insists. “Buck and I can share. No biggie.”

Eddie hasn’t slept in his bed in weeks.

“Makes sense,” Buck adds. “Then it’s only two people per washroom. Much better shower schedule.” 

Hen raised an eyebrow at Eddie, who just offers her an awkward smile.

---

6 for 🩸(THANK YOU!):

---

“You can’t escape!” The guy shouted. Loud enough to indicate to Eddie that he had no idea how close Eddie was to him. 

“You all have to die for this to be over, you know” He continued. “It’s the only way!”

---

3 for 💐 (THANKS!):

---

“I know,” April shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to have another set of hands, though, does it?”

There’s a confidence in her tone, like she just knows she’s so capable and good at this.

[justice4billiam]

Math Class

So there was this one moment in time in high school where I actually liked a guy (I know, weird concept, just go with it) who sat in front of me in my math class.

Something you should know about me, I fucking suck at math.

Another thing you should know about me, I was kind of a dick in high school.

Okay, I’m still kind of a dick, but a nice one.

However in high school, I was extra dick-ish (I’m sure it had to do with all raging teenage hormones and a shit childhood)

Anyway.

I fucking sucked at math.

And what happens when you suck at math?

Your teacher assigns you a tutor to help “guide you to the path of success” or whatever she said.

Cool.

No big deal, right?

Wrong.

She assigned me to the nearest person to me.

The fucking guy I had a crush on.

Who thought I was the fucking worst.

Now you’re probably thinking nooo, he couldn’t possibly think that way about you. I’m sure it was all in your head

Well, you’re wrong. The guy hated me.

BUT for good reason.

He just so happened to be the brother of the girl I beat up half a week earlier in gym class.

NOW.

I didn't beat her up just because…no. She was an absolute terror to this disabled girl in said gym class.

She would verbally bully her to the point of tears.

But that one particular day she physically shoved her to the ground while we were all running the mile.

Remember how I said I was a dick?

Well, I used my powers for good. (mostly)

I watched that shit happen.

Then came strolling up to her while she was shooting the shit with her friends and shoved that bish so hard.

Her stupid unblended orange face (this was the early 2010s guys, no one wore the right makeup shade or blended their foundation into their damn necks) bounced off the concrete floor.

Let me just tell you…it was satisfying as hell.

It started a full on fight of which resulted in her getting her ass handed to her.

So you see, her brother hated me

And I didn't blame him

A sister is a sister.

You stand by your siblings, I get it.

BUT.

I had a big fat crush on him and now he was to tutor me.

Let me tell you, he was NOT happy about it.

I distinctly remember the look on his face the second the teacher called his name out to work with me.

It was the kind of face you make when you smell roadkill wafting through your car vents because you have outside air circulating while you're going 65mph(that's 96.56kmph) on a back road.

The look fueled the need to make him like me.

Those who know me now, know I'm a cheeky, flirty little shit.

So not to toot my own horn but it's hard NOT to like me.

(Is that my god-complex talking? Probably)

I can get along with just about anyone.

Not so surprisingly after about 30 minutes of flirting my way into his heart, I had him FLUSTERED.

I'm talking man giggling.

Blushed cheeks.

Couldn't even make eye contact with me.

FLUSTERED.

Don't like who?

Not me.

I'm sure you're probably wondering where I'm going with this.

Well, after class ended he invited me over to his house after school.

A normal person probably wouldn't go to the house of the girl you beat up and meet her parents while on her brother's arm.

I did.

I went.

I wish I had taken a picture of her face when I walked into her house. (she had stayed home the rest of that week because I beat her ass)

Honestly, it was a core memory.

The best part was her parents didn't know it was me who did it.

It was such an eventful week for me.

Monday: bully the bully

Tuesday: ice my hand from bullying the bully

Wednesday: suck at math

Thursday: rizz the bully's brother and come home with him to have dinner with bully and her family.

Friday: DATE THE BULLYS BROTHER.

Yep. You heard me.

That dinner went so well that the guy asked me out.

And I said yes.

I then proceeded to date him the whole year and become best friends with her mom.

Oh yeah, and I still failed math.

I'm gonna make this a series 🤭

@voyeurmunson im sure you'd get a giggle out of this. 😅🤭

[slocumjoe]

its easter but i dont care! i like to imagine halloween is celebrated in various parts of the common wealth. how would the companions celebrate it with sole? once they have some down time of course. by the way i like to imagine piper, nat and sole host and act in a haunted house attraction or something, what do you think?

I'm putting this in a modern AU so I can go wild, because I had two very specific ideas in mind that I needed realized. a candy for whoever correctly guesses which two im referring to 🍬

Companions and Halloween

Cait; Fucking loves scary movies. Will call all her willing buddies over for bloody marys and whatever shitty takeout they desire, and binges shlock films she finds on obscure horror fan forums. This sometimes backfires and they find a 2003 indie psychological thriller that ends up being too much to handle. When Halloween actually comes, goes to festivals, carnivals, etc... It's the one holiday she actually likes. Dresses up as iconic 'final girls' and gets annoyed when people don't recognize it. Went as Lady Grognak once and got a bunch of girls' numbers.

Codsworth; You bet your ass he's making the best homemade candy in the CITY. This is his Olympics, his Chomolungma/Sagarmatha (commonly known as Everest), his very own Great British Bake Off. Decorates the lawn and sets up picnic tables, has food and drink available. Preston helps him run the shebang with Sturges, Sole, and sometimes Deacon. Will dress up simply and cutely, depending on if he's a person or still a robot. If a person, his costumes are from cartoons, like Steve from Blue's Clues. If a robot, will become a floating pumpkin.

Curie; Her friend group has banded together to keep her from handing out fruit to kids. She only sometimes obliges. Will opt for healthier options, still. Sometimes goes to Codsworth's block party,, if she isn't too tired. Curie herself really isn't into the aesthetic of Halloween, but she likes the fun. She just doesn't like the color schemes. Curie doesn't have time to get a costume, so she just wears her doctor's garb when answering the door. To celebrate for herself, will make pumpkin pies, PSLs, and watch cozy kids spooky movies. Calls or texts Danse to make sure he's okay, as she knows the holiday is a source of stress ever since the...incident...

Dogmeat; local children trained him to run up to porches, snatch the unattended candy bowls, and run

Danse; Counts down to the day like the nukes are gonna drop. Curie once confirmed that the mere mention of the holiday raises his blood pressure. His brain just...can't do it. The thought of someone knocking on his door makes him nauseous. Dressing up...he's too uptight, he'll admit. Pranks always suck, regardless. Not even as a kid did he like Halloween. Hancock and Sole dragged him to a haunted house once and, uh...yeah. Don't take your easily-overwhelmed friend with PTSD to a series of dark corridors with flashing lights, loud, sudden sounds, and people jumping out. Danse takes a week off work, gets in his truck, and camps in the wilderness until society is safe to return to.

Deacon; BEST. HOLIDAY. EVER. Deacon plans all year for it. Every day of October has its own costume. He LOVES volunteering at haunted houses or festivals. It's just such a fun time, man! Gorges himself on PSLs to be 'ironic'. Carries massive candy bars for anyone who recognizes his increasingly obscure costumes. Deacon lives and breathes the spooky. Decorates his house with a new theme each year. Once commissioned a giant model spaceship 'wreck' on his roof and had alien corpses spread across the lawn. Would enter any costume competition he could fit in the schedule, if he wasn't banned.

Gage; He likes Halloween for one reason, and one reason only. When he was a young boy, he hit a growth spurt overnight, way ahead of his peers. So, before Halloween, a local farmer, hosting a corn maze, offered him a job in the maze as a slasher. Maybe it was destiny, or maybe that job helped Gage who he is. But to this day, even if he isn't as spry, Gage finds a haunted maze, and sends them his Chasing People Through Fields resume. There is no greater joy, to him, than hiding around a corner, hearing those poor, poor teenagers whine it'll be cheesy, this is lame, it's so fake...before he goes a'huntin'. It's exercise, it's therapeutic, and it makes for good conversation.

Hancock; His house naturally looks spooky, so he never has to decorate. Very pleased with this. Joins Cait for movie night with MacCready, Piper, Sole, and Preston, and always eats too much. Hancock spends a stupid amount of money on the good Halloween candy, and is part of the "Curie, Fuck Your Apples" gang. Will hide in her bushes and hand out the good shit to children if Piper can't talk her down to at least fruit gummies. Once, trying to be a friend, got Danse out of the dingy, dark hole he calls home, and into Pickman's Gallery, an annual haunted house. Thought it'd be fun, spontaneous, help him live a little.

Hancock didn't know folding chairs could...bend...

MacCready; Matches his costume to Duncan. Attends Cait's movie night. Once had a Parental Panic Attack at a movie involving babies in danger and now Preston has to screen everything to make sure its clear of child murder. MacCready himself goes hogwild with the candy. Makes pumpkin-shaped, pumpkin-flavored food. Takes Duncan to the festivals and carnivals, really wants him to not end up like Uncle Danse, who handled active warzones better. Mac tends to buy what he can afford, which means the cheaper, variety bags of hard candy. At least it isn't apples, Curie.

Nick; As a theater kid and bisexual, Halloween is like his second birthday, behind Valentines day (which isn't his actual birthday either). His costumes are tasteful, inspired, thematically appropriate. His favorite is the classic vampire, with a long, flowing cape, a high collar, and lots of shiny buttons. Carries a giant sack of candy and toys, wanders through the neighborhood, helps lost kids and keeps an eye out for unsavory types. Always ends up having to chase Dogmeat down after he swipes a candy bowl.

Piper; Saves up all the money she can to spare on the after-Halloween candy. Really into campfire smores with ghost stories. Also joins Hancock for haunted houses. Once, on accident, went into Gage's corn maze and recognized him by his build. Hid from him by staying on the blind side. Texted him videos of him charging past her after other maze-goers. Received a "🖕". Piper doesn't go all out on the odd occasion she dresses up. Tends to use clothes she already has. Is the spokesperson for the Fuck Apples gang, tries to talk Curie into something less...shit, each year. Doesn't hand out candy, takes Nat out trick-or-treating. Ends the night at Codsworth's, nothing like a hot dinner after a cool evening walk through the neighborhood.

Preston; Tired mom friend. Goes out into the woods looking for Danse when he doesn't answer his phone, makes sure he rejoins society, doesn't go off the grid. DD after movie night at Cait's. Wasn't into Halloween as a kid, but he participates as an adult to spite people who think adults can't celebrate it. Preston helps Codsworth handle his block party, and buys toys and such for kids with dietary restrictions. Dresses as either a cowboy or a revolutionary soldier. Went as a green toy soldier once and is still finding paint smears in his house. Sturges did warn him.

X6-88; Conflicted on Halloween. On one hand, childish. On the other...full of potential, possibilities, opportunities. He likes the chance to legally frighten people and have it be socially acceptable; he does not like people knocking on his door. He doesn't like pranks, but enjoys the theming and aesthetics. He dislikes the costumes, but people don't bother him dressing the way he does naturally (spooky and Terminator-esque). Eventually, settles into taking simple pleasure from it. He doesn't do much to celebrate himself, though. Not on the 31st, at least. No, no, no.

The real holiday is November 1st.

November 1st is a professional sport, as for as X6-88 is concerned.

[vanikey]

im having Thoughts abt my living situation (past, present, and future) and im gonna ramble abt it on tumblr bc this blog is my diary

ive Officially lived on my own since april 2023 and i love it so much !!!!!! (tho if rent goes up any more and my job continues to have shit pay i may not get to anymore but anywayssss...) growing up i always wanted to live on my own but as i aged i grew fearful i wouldnt be able to bc of lack of independence emotionally, physically, and financially but i did it and i was worried id end up hating it or be lonely but no it fucks severely

that being said i loved living in my childhood home but couldve done with less constant people time LOL (or just more freedom ig) and then in college i lived with friends the whole time and that was a bit rocky for a while but the last few years (in the attic apartment) were amazing and i was sad to leave but at the same time i knew i had to if i wanted to eventually get my own place and i also had some fears abt my roommate (he hates living alone absolutely hates it and i loved living with him and hes said repeatedly he loved living with me but a part of me always wonders if thats bc it was me or if anyone wouldve done? like any friend/person that would spend time with him idk) (if my friend is reading this no youre not) (and it worked out anyway bc he moved states like a year or so after we stopped living together so i wouldve had to leave the attic apartment anyway lol) then i lived with my parents again and eventually found a job i lowkey hate but am usually neutral abt and got my own place and yeah!!

the Thing is one of my sisters and i always talked abt our dream houses and one day she merged it into us living together and also me helping her whenever she decides to have a kid (i offered to if we would be living together)(despite me not being comfortable with kids really idk i have 6 nieces/nephews aged 8 and under but i still dont know how to interact with them and am scared of babies and wont even hold them if theyre less than 6 months and even then it makes me so nervous) ANYWAYS i promised her id help her (even if its just like cleaning around the house or stuff like that) and maybe even try with baby/kid stuff bc shes planning on being a single mom

the thing is i knew she was being 100% serious and i do mean what i said but i also dont think i really Realized and also i may have been thinking hypothetically/jokingly kinda? without realizing? that that could be my actual future?? and shes potentially looking at getting a house rn and i wouldnt be moving into it anytime soon but she was asking me if id like to one day and is asking me abt stuff and it hit me like Oh Shit and i also realized her proposed deadline for starting to have her own kids is coming up in the next like 2-ish years (shes in her mid thirties) and im like. i actually dont want any of that lol

like i Just got out on my own? and id like to remain that way for a long time if possible? potentially forever?? and thinking on it if i ever got a house of my own i imagine itd be smaller and stuff and like the places we've talked abt id have my own space for sure like basically a mini apartment/basement scenario but thinking on it now i dont think thats good enough for me? bc someone will still be there living with me even if it is like upstairs or whatever and will be wanting to spend time with me that i may not want to be sharing (this was the first 18 years of my life lol) and not only that but there will be at least one if not two kids and ive never lived with anyone younger than me for an extended period of time and ahhhhhh

idk just having realizations ig and idk if theyll change or if I'll have to break her heart or if I'll have to put up with living with ppl again idkkkk

[multishipperofgaydeadwizards]

*clears throat and pulls up with a powerpoint* (/jk im making this uo as i go and spilling whatever comes to my brain)

Peter/Sirius *jazz hands*

1) Plant. Dads. There is no other way around this ok? They're plant dads. Peter got Siri into it and now they're both obsessed and are at the top of the class in Herbology along with Alice.

2) They would such a beautiful dynamic omg like Sirius "I say whatever that comes to my mind/ I blatantly flirt" Black and Peter "I have a hard time coming to terms with my feelings/ I can't flirt at all but if someone flirts to me I'm dying on the spot" Pettigrew mhmm mhmm

3) The heartbreakkkk Peter pining over Sirius. And Sirius "I'm in my denial phase I'm not gay" Black going around hooking up with every woman in sight

4) ooooh wait no let's switch things up. Peter is very upfront about his feelings. It takes him time but he gets there eventually. He'll go to Sirius straight up and say "I fancy you. Do with that what you will" and Sirius is just standing there dumbfounded.

5) Sirius would make the first move tho, he would kiss Peter and then he'll move away unsure and Peter will just be like JSKSKDLSMDKDNDKNF externally and internally

6) they'll have picnic dates after they raid the kitchen and its all cute and cottagecore and fluffy

7) the betrayal oooh just imagine how heartbreaking it'll be omg like watch as Sirius spends his time in Azkaban being in denial and then slowly becoming a being of pure rage

8) he leaves Azkaban half cause he wants to hunt down Peter and make him pay but also cause a part of still believes in Pete and wants to hear it from him that he was under a spell or that it a mistake. Something. Anything.

9) ok also thinking about this now I feel like if Startail had happened then the betrayal would have happened? Cause like Peter's flaw was that he kept feeling left alone even tho he actually wasn't as much as his brain led him to believe. He felt left alone with James being Sirius's other half and Remus being Sirius's love of his life right? So now it's like- I don't see a point in the betrayal

10) oooooh wait Dark Pete mhmm mhmm. He is jealous of James because as long as James was there Sirius could never be fully his so he does what he has to for love. In his eyes, he did the right thing.

11) But he miscalculated and ended up losing everything. (And that's why he helps Harry in TDH2)

12) soft top Peter and trying to be bratty but incredibly failing cause of all the softness and care bottom Sirius

I rest my case, your honor.

welcome back to my inbox. I'm glad to see your ideas are still incredible

1) YES!!!! they have so many plants. sirius doesn't get the hype at first (he thinks it's dumb that peter named all of his plants), but then one day the love for the plants hits him like a punch to the face. he hasn't been the same since

2) delicious. they're perfect, for eachother and in general

3) yeah, poor petey :( james tries to support him through it but he doesn't help all that much. marlene tells peter to get over it bc sirius isn't worth the heartbreak (she has one-sided beef with sirius bc of it) (Sirius doesn't know why she suddenly hates him)

4) hsisbidurbo you can combine those two. peter at first waits for sirius to realise that he's not entirely straight... but then he gets tired of it and just tells sirius. the flabbergasted look on sirius's face was an extra

5) bright red peter bc sirius just kissed him. finally. only took him seven thousand years or something

6) yesss. hc that peter is an honorary hufflepuff, and the house elves LOVE him (almost as much as sirius does)

7) the hurt he must be feeling :( he probably refused to believe that peter framed him. there was no way his peteyboo would do that to him, right?

8) yeah. he'd be sure that there must've been something. peter would never do that to him. not his peter

9) maybe sirius and peter go through a rough patch and voldemort or someone else (cough cough jealous ex-lovers rosekiller cough cough) is in peter's ear telling him that sirius is going to leave him if he doesn't do something about it

10) + 11) hdbdoebaobe9ebeos sod o eow e9rbekwze9eb9r dark!peter omg I love this sm. yes, that terrible terrible miscalculation. costing peter both his childhood friend and lover

12) personally I view peter more as a bottom... they're switches. that's how easy that is. but yes, soft dom peter is so real. my boy could never be mean (he murdered people) he's a total sweetheart (he was part of a murderous and pretty much racist cult)

this amazing. I'm excited for the next time you stumble into my asks