#(this also started as a joke and then I kept thinking about it lol) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catiuskaa · 5 months

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you asked me to stay. [Not yet].

PAIRING! idol!bangchan x reader

SUMMARY: even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.

WC: 4.1k

CW: starts off fluffy, then angsty if you squint?, but develops into a (short but still) spicy NSFW. lol, the triangle of (fan)fiction! not gonna say anything else cause I don’t want to spoil it, teehee. Have fun! (I did!)

REQUESTED! here by my sweet 'n spicy baby @sharonxdevi, hope you like my take on it! <3

A/N: wanted to pop down here as a reminder that just because the setting is a fan meeting and yada yada, this work is still unrelated to Channie as an idol. now, please keep reading! I really like how this one turned out 🤭

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

He's so sweet.

You kept giggling and blushing like an idiot, but how couldn't you? The Christopher Bang was right before you, smiling and laughing at the lame jokes you blabbered as a blush surely creeped out, your face a deep shade of a pinkish tone.

“Oh, and I wanted to mention that you look so amazing in your performances! You have me addicted, Chan.” You giggled.

He chuckled, blushing lightly, raising a hand to his mouth, half covering it. “Really?”

You could melt at the sight of him.

“Yeah! I’ve watched all your fancams.” You nodded with enthusiasm.

His laughs turned louder, his ears red. “I feel so shy knowing someone as pretty as you watches me dance so much.”

…

You blinked, your eyes wide.

As what?

He cheeked his tongue, eyeing at you sheepishly.

Oh. So he knew what he was doing.

You smirked softly. Your change in attitude made him raise his eyebrows slightly.

“One minute.”

You eyed at the suited man that came to talk to Chan and smiled. He left back to his position, and you leaned closer to the idol.

“Just have to say, that tongue of yours?” You chuckled, and to him, it was one fo the most enticing sounds he had heard in a while. “Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want STAY to act up.”

There was a bubbly feeling in your stomach that only heightened when you watched his face displaying raw surprise.

You were about to combust in spontaneous fire because, well, you just flirted with an idol, a real famous one, that is, but then, he smirked, leaning even closer to you. You could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His hand softly took yours, and your breath hitched as he snickered playfuly, making you feel a shiver travel down your spine.

“I’m thinking there are far more interesting places where I could keep it.” He grinned in a teasing tone, staring at your lips for a second, licking his own. “But I’m obedient. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you say so.” He stated lowly, his eyes locked on yours. …

Oh.

OH.

MY GOD.

He squeezed your hand, sitting back again. His face was covered by a shade of red, and he couldn’t exactly place what had taken over him.

For a moment, he bit his lip, wary of your reaction, considering you hadn’t so much as muttered anything, frozen in your place.

But then you chuckled, struggling to grasp what had just happened, and his whole body relaxed when you squeezed his hand too.

“Bet. You won’t.” You snickered, standing up, siren eyes staring down at him as you moved away, allowing the next person’s turn.

He winked at you as you left.

W-What had just happened?

Your mind felt fuzzy.

Had Bang Chan just done the triangle method on you?

Chan stared at your back before facing the person in front of him.

He could’ve sworn he had seen you before.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Chan grimaced at Hyunjin, sinking his head back on the pillow in his hotel room.

“Leave him alone, Jinnie.” Yongbok frowned slightly. “But I have to say. Not the smartest move, mate.”

Chan sighed in frustration. “I know, I know.”

And it was because he knew that he didn’t dare to say, but just thinking about you, he also knew for a fact that he wouldn’t hesitate on doing it again. Had he had the opportunity, maybe even more.

But idols don’t do that.

Because it is for a reason that idols don’t date fans. Marketing? 100%. Sure. But it also protected them from scandals and such. Or that’s what Chan liked to say to himself.

Felix felt a bit guilty. Chan had gotten scolded by almost all the members now, some who went more ballistic than others —like Hyunjin, who still was fuming, claiming that if Chan was going to do something forbidden, he could’ve said something better than that—, but he looked at the fellow Australian and stood up, laying his small hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.

The taller one stopped his rambling against Chan and his alleged lack of creativity regarding flirting, and his eyes softened, looking at Yongbok.

“Give the man a break.” Felix smiled softly. “He understands what he’s done. He’s a big boy. Right, Channie?”

The big boy lazily raised his hand from the bed, not moving his head from the pillow as he hummed and raised his thumb.

“This bitch—” Hyunjin started, threatening to throw a pillow at the older one, but Felix quickly pushed him away, taking him back to their room.

Finally alone after what seemed like a lifetime, Chan turned around, staring at the ceiling.

He covered his face with his hands.

Reckless. Stupid, reckless idiot.

It had to be past twelve when he got tired of waiting for sleep to get to him. That never happened anyways. So he stood up with a groan, yawning out of boredom, quickly fetching a jacket and heading to the elevators with slow steps.

He got in and slowly started to put on his beanie and his mask, which wouldn’t really make a difference if someone recognized him, still, it gave him some reassurance. But then, the elevator stopped barely two floors after he got in.

His whole body tensed up.

He recognized who stepped in, messy hair, funny slippers and padded jacket on.

He knew who that was, because he had been right.

He had seen you before.

“Oh.” You smiled, and he could tell by the small wrinkles in your eyes, because the bottom half of your face was hidden by the jacket’s high neck. “Good night.” You mumbled softly.

He nodded. He was afraid you’d recognize him. He was unsure of what to do himself —or if he should do anything—, he couldn’t even think of how you would react. And just the idea that you wouldn’t like seeing him there made him hide his face more in his dark mask, so instead, he fidgeted with his room card, not daring to look at you for too long.

“Trouble sleeping?” You pondered in a kind tone. He nodded again, and you smiled. He had to hold back the impulse of lowering your jacket just so he could see your bright features, the ones that had charmed him so much barely a couple of hours ago.

“Same here.” You muttered, and he could’ve sworn that your voice alone, warm and soothing, could singlehandedly lull him to sleep in a heartbeat. “Walking helps though, don’t you think?”

He, again, just managed to nod. But for some reason, your presence didn’t make him feel guilty for not talking. In the middle of the night nothing seemed to have any rules between you two and the four walls of the elevator.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?” You asked in a murmur.

It was the first time he shook his head no, vigorously so, and you blushed lightly, smiling.

“Good to know.” You grinned, chuckling softly. The elevator dinged, arriving to the last floor. Chan held back a frustrated groan, yearning to keep hearing your voice.

“Have a good night.” You smiled, but his hand softly took yours.

“Huh?” You muttered softly.

Chan struggled. Fuck, shit, fuck. He had done that completely out of reflex. He didn’t know what to say, and just scrathed the side of his face, staring at your linked hands.

He shook his head once more, asking you to stay.

To you, you already had the weird feeling that you knew him. But he touched your hand, and something from it felt shockingly familiar.

Now, you could’ve sworn you had seen him before.

“What is it?” You asked, your voice coated in something sweet, something that Chan suddenly wanted to taste. “Would you like to walk with me?”

He nodded eagerly. And you grinned sheepishly.

You two crossed through the hotel main’s hall nonchalantly, and Chan just followed you, intriegued that you hadn’t taken the main entrance door to exit.

“Trust me,” you muttered, smiling. He felt it was scary that he would, in a heartbeat. “The gardens are so much better.”

You took his hand. A motion completely out of reflex, that both of you only allowed yourselves to yearn for in silence.

You grinned at him, turning around, and his breath hitched, lips parted beneath his mask when he realized how close you were.

You opened a black door to your right with a soft push of your body.

The hotel gardens at night were like a dream. The moonlight turned everything into a soft, magical scene. Tall trees swayed quietly, and you could hear crickets and leaves rustling. There was a small lake below it, its water calm, that reflected the image above it like a mirror, moon and stars glistening on the clear surface.

Even if Chan was only looking at the glow through your eyes.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.

You stared back at him. Something in his eyes reminded you of someone you knew. A peculiar someone, that is.

He hummed in agreement, and your smile widened.

“Shall we?” You giggled in a murmur, letting him step outside before you.

There was a warmth in the night that ushered Chan to take off his mask and hat.

But he didn’t dare to. Not yet.

You two walked alongside, hands and knuckles brushing against each other, and the idol allowed himself to grin as you smiled, looking at the flowers that decorated the place. It was the first time in his life that he had found solace in the shared silence of insomnia.

With a swift motion, he surrendered. He felt like it wasn’t fair to know who you where if you didn’t —or couldn’t— recognize him. To hell with it, he thought, taking his hat and mask off.

But, much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as glance at him. You just snickered when he sighed, sounding happier, breathing in the sudden cold breeze that swooshed in the garden.

“Better, huh?” You mumbled in light amusement.

He smiled, shoving his hidden identity in his pockets.

“Much.” Chan muttered.

His heart beat loudly on his ears. He could feel it pulsating rapidly, waiting for the moment where you would turn to face him.

But you weren’t, just strolling down the stone path, callously ignoring his nervous demeanour.

He was about to stop and move you, but instead, your hand took his again.

And then you squeezed it lightly. Much like he had done a couple of hourse ago.

His breath hitched. He stopped walking.

“Chan?” You smiled.

He felt chaos unravel inside him, his cheeks blushing, his palms getting sweaty, and his heart giddily beating in his chest.

Another rush of soft air crossed through the hotel’s gardens, making your hair move with it. He could smell your light scent, something that felt warm inside him, something that he felt could lull him asleep.

You grinned.

“Hi.”

He chuckled lowly. He hadn’t let go of your hand. A part of him didn’t want to. Not yet.

“Hi.”

He saw you blush under the moonlight, not knowing his red-tinted cheeks were more obvious than yours.

“What’s a boy as pretty as you doing in a place like this?”

…

He blinked, his eyes wide.

As what?

He saw you cheek your tongue, doe eyes looking at him teasingly.

Oh. So you knew what you were doing.

He chuckled, thinking that was going to be all your teasing.

“Judging by how long it took for you to talk, I guess you did mean to keep your end of the deal.”

“Huh?” He inquired softly.

“You know.” You bit your lip and blushed a bit more, making him more interested, taking a step towards you without realizing. “Keeping your mouth shut. Like the obedient boy you are.”

He started breathing heavily, a low laugh rolling off his tone.

“Oh, yeah?” His smirk was only powered by yours. “I must say, I can be quite rebellious.”

“Really?” You snickered, feeling his hand squeeze yours again.

“Very.” He gulped. His bravado only lasted for so much, and deep inside, he was equally scared as curious.

He wanted to keep going. He wanted you to stay.

“Are you trying to prove it?” You mocked cheekily.

He stared at your lips, his breath felt heavy. “Would you like me to prove it?”

His hand threatened to reach for your cheek, but it was you who finally held it and moved it towards your face.

“Bet.” You giggled. “You won’t.”

The night air was crisp as your eyes, deep and expressive, locked with his, inviting and enticing, a secret to be held in them. His hair, often styled with flair, rested curly and messy, but you couldn’t help but get lost in the untamed beauty that he portrayed. Not even his lips gently grazing yours could wipe either of your smiles under the moonlight.

And then, for a moment, it wasn’t gentle.

Maybe it was because he sighed against your lips, or maybe it was because you followed an impulse and bit his lower lip, but then it got twisted. Tongues danced with one another, fighting for dominance in a burst of sudden passion.

“C-chan,” you gulped, arms traveling to his nape, playing with his hair. It made him weak.

“Chris,” he sighed, yearning to taste your lips again. And again. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “Call me— call me Chris.”

You chuckled. “Only if you call me…”

You were going to tease him, but your ideas suddenly flew away form your mind when he started peppering kisses on your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.

“What?” He snickered. “A pet name of sorts?” He was teasing you, and he was so enjoying it, tasting the weirdly sweet and enticing flavour of your skin in his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” God, he needed more.

You bit your lip, holding back sounds behind heavy breaths, and he patted your thighs, making you jump into his arms without hesitation. Quickly, he moved the both of you, pinning you against the wall closest to you.

“C-chan…” He bit your skin slightly harder. “Chris! Ah, Chris…!”

“F-fuck…” He muttered. “I… I can’t…” He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, now covered in small and red lovebites. “You smell so good.”

You pecked his forehead, trying to catch your breath, your hands stroking his soft hair.

“Not here, right?” You smiled, soothing, comprehensive. His heart softened.

He nodded, sighting against your neck. He let go of your legs, allowing you to stand back on your feet tenderly.

“I’m sorry….?” Chan mumbled shyly. You giggled, brushing it off.

You were about to say something, but then the gravel cracked under someone’s weight. One that wasn’t either of you.

He tensed up under your arms.

You sighed. “Move!” You ushered in a whisper.

He frowned, his eyes darting from you and from where the sound had come from.

“But you—”

“Chan!” You pushed him away, hiding him behind another wall, and quickly took your phone from the pocket of your jacket, zipping back up what Chris had lowered.

“Who’s in there?”

Chan’s breath haltered.

You had hid him just a wall more, meaning that if the security guard found any of you, chances were that he wouldn’t be caught. You would.

You both held your breathing, hands interlinked even if your bodies were as far away as they could to do so, your heartbeats quickening in sync.

And then, it was just silence for a minute, the gravel cracked below the security guard’s feet, and he left as sudden as he had arrived.

You legs felt like jelly, and you let your back fall down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor with a huff.

“You were going to get in trouble.” Chris muttered.

You looked at him from the floor. The moonlight highlightened his lean figure and charismatic features.

You nodded. “It wouldn’t be me who’d get in the worst of it.” You smiled softly.

He nodded with you.

“We should go before it gets too late.”

Just before heading back together to the elevators, you looked to the reception, and grinned softly.

The elevator back up felt more silent than usual. And for some reason that could speak and make him blush, Chan missed the sound of your voice.

“Good night, Chris.”

It wasn’t going to be a good night.

Not after that interruption, which not only scared the shit out of him, but also made him rethink everything he was doing with you.

Chan arrived back to his room. After half an hour of mindlessly staring at the nightsky through the window, someone knocked on the door.

Could it be you? Chris blushed at the thought.

He opened the door to find nothing. Then, he looked to the floor, and found a mug of hot chocolate and a small note.

may have taken a peek to your room card before. i had fun tonight! see you tomorrow? xoxo, your princess.

He grinned.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.

[♦️☆🔓☆♦️]

When he woke up the morning after, his mouth still tasted like chocolate.

There had been nothing that could wipe the silly grin on his face that day. Not his packed schedule, not the knowledge that they had to go back home and it would be his last night there, not the fact that Han had come into his room just to look for his missing sock —which, for obvious reasons, he never found there—, not the fact that Hyunjin was still bitter with him because of what he had named the ‘pretty girl disaster’ —which Chan intended to tell you just to see if you’d laugh like he had imagined.

His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of you.

Your flavoured chapstick, your sweet scent, the way you mumbled his name —his real one, that is—, how your eyes glowed under the moonlight, how his hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist.

He sighed happily for the upteenth time that day, coming out of the shower.

But then, Minho came in to his room.

“Hyung.” He started, and his low tone didn’t seem to bring good news.

Chan nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“I know I’m not really good at these things, but I think you should see this.”

The dancer handed him the phone, and Chan turned pale.

It was a picture taken from last night. Chan’s silhouette was fairly obvious, slightly pixelated and hidden by his beanie and his mask. And right in front of him, back facing the camera, was you, your hand holding his.

“So it is you. That’s what I thought,” Minho mumbled. “A random number sent it to Hyunjin. He saved the picture and blocked it, but we thought you should know.”

“Did they know it was me?” Chan stuttered.

The cat owner shook his head, and Chan was able to breathe normally again. “They thought it had been me with Jisung.”

It was there when Chan’s daydreaming faltered.

His thoughts started spinning, not knowing how or where to start.

Would you know about this?

What would you do?

“Hyung.” Minho sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

And Chan hadn’t been able to grasp that, but someone did.

The same someone who knocked on his door at night.

“Guys, you have your own cards.” Chan muttered, opening the door.

But it hadn’t been any of the guys.

“Hi.” You let out in a sight, panting.

Had you ran your way there?

“Hi.” He mumbled weakly.

“Can I…?” He opened the door for you, and quickly closed it back. He turned his back to you, his eyes wide and his heart going crazy.

“Chris.” You mumbled.

He turned around to face you.

“You asked me to stay last night and I went with you to the gardens.” You huffed. “But I want to stay here with you tonight.”

He blinked, passing a hand through his wavy hair. You were there. In front of him. Speaking. God, he had to concentrate.

“We’ll make a deal.” You breathed slowly, staring deeply into his eyes, yearning to know the secrets hidden behind them. “I’ll leave this here.”

You gently plopped your phone on the table near the door to his room. He was still standing there, as if frozen, pyjama pants on and only a bathrobe covering his lean and toned chest.

“A pretty man called Hyunjin came to me talking about some picture,” you started softly. “But yesterday didn’t happen so I’d ruin a man’s career.” His eyes followed how you raised your hands and smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“It’s off.” Your voice lowered, and he got slightly closer, as if wanting to hear you better. “The phone, I mean. Feel free to check it.”

Surprisingly, he just stared at it, then smiled cheekily, heading towards you.

Your eyebrows shot up and you felt deliciously small under his new-formed grin, and how his hands cradled your face.

He pecked your lips with a yearning sigh.

“I missed you.”

You blushed.

“You can have me all night.” Your smile made him feel butterflies on his stomach. “Just me and you.”

He kissed you again, longer this time.

His frame slowly caged you against the door, and he broke the kiss, stroking your cheeks. His body was pressed up against yours, his lips parted as he breathed softly, taking you in. He could feel heat running down his body just by the feeling of you back in his arms, and the only thought that he had clear is that he couldn't hold back anymore.

He needed to kiss you, again, and again, and again. He needed to figure out what you tasted like. He needed to have you. Your hands had gone back to where they had been the night before, and the way you stared at his lips threatened to make him fall to his knees.

His eyes were glued on your lips, and not long after, his mouth followed.

Chris’ heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew for a fact that he had never felt this way before. Never in his whole life. The more he tasted your lips, the kiss almost as passionate as your first one, the more you ruined him, claiming him as yours, making him addictied to the way you sighed and grinned as he moved your bodies to the bed, the hotter his body became.

He fell with you on the matress, and much to his surprise, you moved your bodies, sitting on his lap, taking a groan out of him.

“Such a beauty,” you mumbled, almost to yourself rather than him. “All for me, huh?” You smirked.

The whole world was hazy, the only thing that was clear was your body and your words. Just hearing your voice saying those words to him made him shiver, a shiver that he never experienced before.

He smirked too, and sighed when you untied his bathrobe, your hands roaming freely wherever you wanted to, stroking his chest, claiming him with kisses, the soft colour that they left behind, pink due to your lipstick, and the soft scratches of your nails, that made him bite his lip to keep his sounds hidden.

“Nuh-uh.” You tutted at him with a smile.

He snickered. “Oh, princess. Two can play that game.”

His hands pinned you down against the bed, his lips quickly going back to yours.

“You said I needed to keep my tongue to myself, and I promised that I would” He grinned, almost menacingly, lowering himself, trailing kisses down your body, discarding your underwear.

“I intend to break that promise.”

Maybe you and him would be difficult.

But he had asked you to stay, and you did. And he didn’t want to stop trying. Not yet.

[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]

~Kats, who did most of this in a hospital bed (‘m okay now dw) but fell asleep and didn’t publish it, lol. I LOVED THIS IDEA POOKIE TYSM !!

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crezz-star · 6 months

Text

⚔👒🗡

So I actually have a little idea about that ⚔️👒🗡️ ot3 (EGGHEAD ARC SPOILERS)

Seraphim!Zoro was the first human clone prototype Vegapunk did but he was just, dumped in some cell like a prisoner for any random testing. Until the marines attacked egghead and his cell was opened and he saw Luffy and Zoro fighting alongside one another. Seeing Luffy, he felt something stir within him. something familiar and pleasant. Excitement and delight. So when Zoro and Luffy defeated Lucci and they has a short respite, that's when 'Prototype' popped up and started to follow Luffy like a lost puppy and everyone got spooked for a minute thinking its one of the warlord pacifistas but Luffy saw he looks like Zoro. 'Prototype' is what Seraphim!Zoro was called by the vegapunk crew. Zoro's dna was used and his fighting data back at east blue was also used. Vegapunk tried to imbue him with an artificial devil fruit but his DNA keeps strongly rejecting it. So 'Prototype' is considered a failure by vegapunk but still uses him as a test subject. 'Prototype' was still being given updates in battle memory as they follow Zoro's improvement as a pirate and as time passes. Not to mention, Moria once lent a helping had to vegapunk who also studied and analyzed every move the Ryuma zombie made and fed that info to 'prototype' so his skills are also a no joke. Not to mention,

the Seraphim!Mihawk trains with Seraphim!Zoro. Which was only one of the reasons they kept prototype around.

Vega punk also made an imitation of Shusui that 'prototype' uses.

So prototype is very much like a quiet puppy. Feral when in battle but keeps to himself and is calm when not in battle. another reason Vegapunk deemed him a failure for not being aggressive like the successful new pacifista seraphims.

Vegapunk told Luffy not to worry about 'prototype' and that he's a failure and he will get rid of him but Luffy got mad and almost punched the vegapunk that said it. Luffy then saying, " DON'T TREAT HIM LIKE SOME ITEM. THAT'S ZORO'S CLONE. " covering 'prototype' protectively.

Vegapunk not really having a care for his failed experiemnts, just, told luffy he can have him.

So seraphim!zoro joins the crew. His name being give to him by Zoro - after Luffy's endless coercion LOL- Shiro. since his hair is white. The crew even scolding him to think of a proper name, that shiro makes it sound like Zoro is just naming a dog. But luffy likes it so they go with that.

Once Shiro joins joins the crew, Shiro eventually develops his personality to be closer to Zoro although, more quiet and stoic than Zoro.

Shiro also has sense of direction, but only because vegapunk made sure the seraphim intellect is high to create detailed tactics for war and battle.

#crezztellations #one piece #zolu #ゾロル #seraphim!zoro

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samuelsdean · 28 days

Text

Stay With Me

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: "you’ve been shot countless times, huh?” “that sounded a bit more reassuring in my head.”

genre: angst & fluff

word count: 1.1k

author's notes: almost a year of no writing, but i'm finally home (i posted a new fic)! it's been one hectic year for me. uni was crazy & i started my clinical rotations. plus, i did my thesis & it even got a distinction mark so i'll be presenting it at a research congress pretty soon (yay!). with that, i'm really sorry for ghosting ao3 & tumblr. i couldn't find the time to insert it in between uni & breaking down lol. anyway, i'll be posting a lot more while i'm on break. i hope you'll enjoy reading my first fic after a year of zzz. have fun! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

YOU CAN HEAR SIRENS AND PEOPLE SHOUTING.

They say when you are knocking on death’s door, hearing is the last of your senses you will lose. If you’re dying, you don’t know it. Nothing makes sense at the moment. It’s all just blurry hues of blues and reds and shouting—Stay with me—the smell of something metallic. The only thing you’re sure of right now is that your head hurts and it seemed like a van ran right through you with how achy your body feels right now.

Who’s that? You mused. Why are they yelling at me? I’m right here. You turned your head slightly and tried to open your eyes.

It’s quite the task.

“T-That’s it,” The person, whom you think was yelling at you, said. “Stay with me, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes.”

You groaned and gripped the person's hand tightly as if to stand up, but you couldn't. Everything ached. And the person holding you, just kept on talking, their voice a low murmur at first. But even through the haze of pain, it was starting to sound familiar. You recognized that dulcet tone, the rich, smooth sound that could captivate your attention with random facts or lull you to sleep with equal ease.

The voice, you realized with a flicker of a smile, belonged to Spencer, its familiar cadence a warm current cutting through the blossoming pain.

“Reid?” You croaked.

Your throat’s dryer than any other desert in existence right now. And you sound worse than you look—you think—you don’t know for sure, except the fact that you can’t move much.

“It’s me,” Spencer chuckled while sniffling. “I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?”

Even through the haze of pain, a new wave of discomfort bloomed in your shoulder, sharp and insistent. Before you could react and get up, Spencer's hand tightened on yours, his voice laced with a tremor you'd never heard before. "Don't move, Y/N. You've been shot."

He applied pressure on your wound—which you just noticed. The pain hit you in a delayed wave, a white-hot stab that stole your breath. You hissed a weak sound that did little to mask the spike in your heart rate.

"Stop moving or you're gonna bleed out even more!" Spencer's voice, usually so calm and collected, was laced with a raw panic you'd never heard before.

"Easy there, tiger," you tried to joke, your voice raspy. "I've been through worse. I’ve been shot countless times. W-why are you so worried?"

The question came out in a shaky whisper, the concern evident in his voice a stark contrast to the usual intellectual debates you shared.

Spencer's grip tightened, momentarily cutting off your circulation. "Because you could have died, Y/N!" he snapped, his voice cracking with a choked sob. "You… you were…"

He trailed off, unable to put into words the terrifying image that had flashed before him when he saw you collapse, after hearing the sound of a bullet whizzing by and hitting you.

The sight of your vulnerability stripped away his usual composure, leaving a raw fear he couldn't conceal. It took him a moment to regain his composure, his voice softening as he continued, "You shouldn't be so glib about this. It was a nasty shot, close to a major artery."

Despite the pain, a warmth bloomed in your chest. You'd never seen Spencer like this, so shaken and afraid.

"Okay," you murmured, forcing a weak snicker. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, at least I got you to patch me up, right, Dr.Reid?"

A ghost of a smile glinted across his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hold still," he mumbled, amused but also bothered at your dreadful timing for jokes. He applied pressure more gently this time. "You’ve been shot countless times, huh?”

“That sounded a bit more reassuring in my head” You quipped.

A bit lightheaded from the pain, you clutched Spencer’s hand. The shriek of approaching sirens and the glare of headlights cut through the haze. You struggled to focus on the lifeline thrown in a storm of confusion.

"They're here," Spencer said, his voice tight. A sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead, a stark contrast to his usual cool composure.

"About time," you rasped, trying to lighten the mood. The effort cost you a fresh wave of dizziness, the world tilting slightly on its axis.

To which, Spencer shot you a look that was half-annoyed, half-worried. "Don't try to be a hero. You're losing a lot of blood. Any movement can dislodge the clot forming in your wound, renewing the bleeding. So, stop moving!"

"Just keeping things interesting," you mumbled, the words slurring slightly. “Wouldn’t want my last moments here on earth to be so grim…”

Spencer's jaw clenched for a moment, then he sighed, the sound heavy with relief. "You always were a pain," He muttered, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You’re going to be okay, he thought.

The sirens reached a fever pitch, pulling up right beside you. A flurry of activity erupted as paramedics swarmed, the rest of the team trying to make sure you were tended to and that you were going to be okay, their movements a bit panicked but practiced, and efficient. Relief washed over you, a sweet wave that threatened to pull you under.

"Hold on, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice desperate despite the composure of his words. He kept his hand pressed firmly on your wound, his touch a grounding anchor in the chaos. “Help is here. Everyone’s here. Just… stay with me, okay?"

"Going somewhere," you slurred, your eyelids drooping.

"No, you're not," he said fiercely, his voice barely a whisper above the shouts of the paramedics. "You're coming with us."

You coughed a sharp rasp that sent a jolt of pain through your shoulder. "Stats say shoulder wounds aren't usually fatal," you wheezed, trying to distract yourself from the ache.

Spencer's hand stilled for a moment, looking at you like you’ve grown a second head. "What?"

"Yeah," you continued, your voice weak but persistent. "L-look, I get it, you're scared. But statistically, shoulder wounds aren't as serious..." Your voice trailed off as a wave of nausea washed over you.

"Maybe you shouldn't be reciting medical statistics right now," Spencer said sharply, his voice laced with a hint of panic.

“S-shouldn’t that be my line, boy genius?” You continued to joke, as the world dissolved into a scramble of flashing lights and blurry faces.

The last thing you registered was the feel of Spencer's hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent promise that resonated louder than any siren.

834 notes · View notes

bestedoesmeow · 11 months

Text

SORRY, AMOUR

request: where he teases the reader playfully (like usual) but without realising she's already had a bad day, so that sort of backfires and she almost cries lol and he starts to panic making it up to her

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧── ∘₊✧

"Amour, you've been lying on that bed forever. Don't you think you've had enough rest?" Charles teased as he stood in the doorway of your room, a smirk playing on his lips. You didn't turn your head to face him, but you were sure he had that playful expression. "I couldn't sleep last night. I just need a few more hours, Charles," you replied with your eyes closed, trying to fall asleep for over an hour by then. Your mind had been wandering about everything since yesterday night, from your schoolwork and exams to your and Charles's dog's illness. Despite Charles's stress about Ferrari and races, you didn't want to burden him with your own life problems. You felt they were insignificant compared to the weight he was carrying with his team's strategies.

"Why is that, chéri? Was I snoring?" Charles asked with a joking tone. While you were glad he was in a good mood after his podium in SPA, you weren't in the mood for small talk. You just hummed in response, an uneasy and almost angry reply. It was clear that you wanted him to leave you alone, as it wasn't the right time for teasing. Charles, noticing something was amiss and sensing your uneasiness, decided to take a different approach. He swiftly entered the room that you had shared for a year now and slowly sat on his side of the bed before starting to talk.

"I thought we were going to grab breakfast, chéri?" he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. However, his attempt didn't go as planned, and you reached your limit. Your priority that morning wasn't grabbing breakfast. The immense anxiety on your chest and the heavy feeling throughout your body were overwhelming.

"I don't think so. I don't feel like it. Actually, I just want to lay here and cry for a while," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion as tears began to well up in your eyes.

Charles's playful demeanor disappeared as he realized the seriousness of the situation. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you gently into his comforting embrace. He softly stroked your hair and whispered reassuring words, "It's okay, my love. You can take all the time you need. Let it out, and I'm here for you."

You couldn't help but let the tears flow as you clung to Charles, feeling his warmth and support. Gradually, he encouraged you to talk about what was bothering you. You opened up about the overwhelming pressure of schoolwork and exams, the worries about your dog's illness, and the constant thoughts that had kept you up all night.

Listening attentively, Charles assured you that everything would turn out alright, that he was there to help and support you through it all. He reminded you that you were not alone in facing life's challenges and that you could lean on him whenever you needed to.

As the weight on your chest began to lift, Charles noticed your mood improving slightly. He knew that sometimes all it took to bring a smile back to your face was a bit of distraction and comfort. So, he decided to do just that.

"Hey, how about we take a break from everything for a moment?" Charles suggested with a gentle smile. "I got something to cheer you up." He reached over to grab some coloring books and art supplies, knowing that you enjoyed expressing yourself through art.

He also brought out a playlist of your favorite music, hoping that the familiar tunes would help lift your spirits. As the music played softly in the background, Charles joined you in coloring, creating a relaxing and fun atmosphere.

"Je t'aime, Charles," you said, suddenly burning with the urge to reciprocate the love you felt for him.

“Je t'aime, mon amour," he whispered, Charles kissed you tenderly, his lips conveying a sense of comfort and belonging. The worries and anxieties seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of serenity in his presence

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taestefully-in-luv · 6 months

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Our Time | JJK (Seven)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: seriously depressing (for now) swearing, mentions of alcoholism, allusions to cheating

a/n: Hiiiiiii, long time no see!! Sorry for the delay and thank you for waiting. This story is at a depressing point (lol) so forgive me! I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter too 🥺 Well, I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An eternity has passed since you’ve last seen Jungkook…a total of six weeks. Each day has gotten equally harder as it has gotten easier. You think it’s just your body slowly getting used to his absence but your mind is yearning. Yearning and hurting.

But there is something that’s also painful like missing your ex-husband—your best friend—and it’s the videos of your life. A life you know nothing of.

If you thought pictures were hard, videos are much harder.

But you asked for this. You asked your parents and your friends to send you old pictures and videos of times you don’t remember living.

You’re seeing pictures of you and your friends in restaurants you don’t know. Bars you don’t know. Concerts for artists you don’t know. Pictures of you in your bedroom, but it’s a bedroom you don’t know.

You have haircuts and styles you don’t know.

In the videos, you hear yourself laughing at inside jokes you don’t know. You’re using vocab and slang you don’t know. You see yourself giggling and joking around with people you. don’t. know. And you feel more like an outsider than ever. Not just to this world but to the girl you see on screen, you are an outsider to herworld.

Perhaps you’ve gotten too use to separating your different selves. And perhaps that makes it harder to unite with them.

Past you is current you but current you thinks of current you as future you.

It’s all a headache to think about.

You know they’re all you but because you’ve kept them separate, it’s somehow becoming the shackles that stops all the you’s from uniting.

And that’s what needs to happen for all of your memories to return. You have to unite 24 year old you and 33 year old you. It’s only your sanity on the line.

Now that you’ve discovered a couple of things, the only way to go from here is to intentionally spark your memories—in any way. You have to. Because you know 33 year old you has started something...

You quickly tear your eyes from the video on screen to take a quick peak towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You’ve visited the attic a few times because of all of the memories that are stored in there.

But those boxes are filled with more than just memories.

Your eyes go back to your phone in hand as your thumb hesitantly hovers over the screen. You know you should move on to another video but it almost feels like you don’t have it in you. You don’t have it in you to stop listening to the sound of your child’s laughter when you can’t recognize it.

You don’t have it in you to stop the possibility of triggering your brain to suddenly remember him.

You finally force your thumb to the screen and you quickly pause it. You take in a sharp breath before exiting the video to scroll through the five videos your mom sent you. You see Haru in all five. And you can see Jungkook in three of them. You chose one where you couldn’t see Jungkook.

But this video of Haru’s giggles feels just as heartbreaking but more than anything, it feels frustrating. Because you don’t know him.

And that feels like an unbearable heartache on its own.

Suddenly, your eyes bounce from the video thumbnails to the text your mom just sent you.

Mom 7:28am

Good morning! We’re our way to the station and should arrive in Seoul around 2pm. You’re still picking us up, right?

You slowly close your already drooping eyes, the moment way too brief before you open them again, glancing towards the living room windows where the obvious sunlight comes through. Another night you didn’t sleep. Your eyes battling your brain. You might get a few hours if you try to sleep now, at the least.

“I just don’t understand how you can drink those all day,” Your mother’s eyes go from the knife in her hand to the iced coffee in yours. “I know it’s got to be giving you heartburn.” She laughs a little while shaking her head, eyes going back down to the cutting board where she chops onions.

You blink at your mom before dropping your eyes to the coffee in your hand, “Wait, is this why?”

She chuckles again, “Must be from your dads side of the family.” She shrugs now, letting the onions slide off the board and into a pan.

You roll your eyes at your moms playful comment before sliding the coffee away from you as you sit at your kitchen island, “Anyway, dad’s kind of taking a while, no?” You glance around the kitchen as if he would suddenly appear here.

Your mom smiles to herself while her hands remain busy with cooking dinner, “Yeah, he’s waiting for me to text him saying he can come back from the store.”

You can’t help but snort since you know exactly what she means.

Back when you were a teenager and going through life’s woes that made the whole world feel like it was ending, you would have your meltdowns. Period cramps that made you moody, a friend talking behind your back, the boy you liked was seen kissing someone else. All the things your dad left your mom to handle. He would suddenly want to go to the store and she would somehow signal him when it was safe to return—after the two of you got to talk out whatever was bothering you.

You realize she’s done it now.

“You never used to take this long to tell me what was going on though.” Your mom says quietly, eyes trained on the stove. “Especially not about Jungkook.” She sighs as she reaches for the wooden spoon before stirring the ingredients.

You feel something sharp inside your chest, just at the mention of his name, like there’s a sharp knife.

You turn your face to the side, something uncomfortable and electric tightens your jaw. As if it’s a burning signal that even the mere mention of Jungkook, makes you want to cry. But you won’t. “Well, mom.” You take a deep breath before looking towards her again with a sarcastic smile. “Our marriage wasn’t exactly as perfect as you thought.”

You hope this is enough for her to realize that Haru’s disappearance wasn’t the wedge that created such distance between you and your now, ex-husband.

You stare at the back of your mom’s head as she stands at the stove, still cooking. You wonder if she’s in utter shock at the revelation that perhaps Jungkook isn’t perfect. And your marriage definitely wasn’t. You wait and wait. But you see how she starts adding in a few other things.

“I said—”

“—What marriage is perfect?” Your mom finally turns around, cutting you off with a raised brow. “I never thought that. I’ll never think that. About anyone.” She scoffs before turning towards the stove again. “I told you that you didn’t usually take this long to talk about Jungkook with me.”

You don’t say anything.

Your mom turns her head towards you for a moment, you see the corner of her lip barely start to lift, like a knowing smile wants to form but her frown decides not to budge, “You were married to him for years…you don’t think you’ve come to complain to me?”

You understand her almost smirk now. She faces forward towards the stove again.

“Maybe around six months before Haru’s…incident. You came to Busan and I could tell something was up and you needed to talk.” Your mom rests a hand on her hip, while the other reaches for the stove knob as she turns it down. “But just like now…” She turns her head to eye you again, her worries pulling her lips into a deeper frown. “You took a while to tell me.”

You don’t really react. Not as your brain processes this information.

Your mom continues, “So I know your marriage wasn’t perfect. Jungkook’s not perfect. You’re not perfect.” She exhales through her nose in a half laugh. “I’m not perfect. Your father’s not either. But what’s between us…it has to be protected.”

“Unless that person betrays you.” You say in a low voice, eyes going to your fingers as you pick at your cuticles. “And you lose your trust in them.”

You hear your mom at the stove again as she turns it off and puts the lid on the pan. After a moment you see your mother in your peripherals as she comes to the other side of the counter and sits next to you.

“You mentioned something similar back then.” She says quietly, her face looking ahead. “But then I thought…well, that you thought it wasn’t what you thought.”

You quickly turn your head in your moms direction, eyes on hers. What all did you say to her? “Well, it was.” You say firmly.

Your mom’s eyebrows pull together slowly, something similar to confliction rising in her eyes. “And how exactly did Jungkook betray you?” She asks after a moment.

And it feels pathetic, the feeling of all the muscles in your face betraying your collected appearance. So pathetic that the answer to this question makes your expression twist and break off the cracking mask that is now crumbling and falling from your face.

It takes less than an instant for your heartbreak to be written all over.

Your mom puts a hand to your back, letting you cry it out.

Just like you did when you were a moody teenager and the only one who understood your meltdowns was your mom. She lets you know that once again, that no matter how small or how big—you had every right to feel the way you wanted to.

You cry, a soft pat repeating on your back as you mumble how sad you are and how embarrassing this is.

This short cry feels more like relief in the right company rather than something that is rocking your world in the worst way.

Your mom chuckles a little, pulling away from you. “Embarrassing?”

“Yeah.” You nod with a shameless smile and damp cheeks. “I know you know the me that’s been married to him for years but in my eyes we’ve been on one date and he was our neighbor. So I feel like you should be teasing me about us but you’re here with more knowledge about my marriage than me.” You laugh as you cry more, “So it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Hm,” Your mom chuckles again, “I guess I can understand that.”

You nod while your fingers wipe beneath your eyes repeatedly, they’re only teary now.

Your mom brings her hand away from you, her fingers intertwining on top of the counter. You watch as she stares down at her hands in thought before she finally sighs and turns your way with a small smile. “Talk to me, y/n. You’re convinced Jungkook betrayed you in some way—ways I can only assume—but tell me, do you really think he’s capable of what you’re thinking?”

You study your mother’s expression for a long moment, brows beginning to furrow when you realize she doesn’t buy it. Tearing your eyes away from her, your lips twist in annoyance, “Are you saying I shouldn’t believe in my own memories?”

You hear your mom sigh again, “You remembered something unpleasant, y/n. I’m not saying I don’t believe you…but even back then,” She pauses, hoping you will look at her but you don’t. She finally continues, “Things just didn’t add up…”

You’re quick to find her eye again, “What all did I tell you?”

At this, your mother scoffs lightly, her small smile still on her lips. “Nothing that really made sense. Seemed like you just…couldn’t tell me things. But I’m not dumb, you know? You drop plenty of hints when you get talking.”

“Oh.” You blink at her, wishing you could even remember whatever hints she’s referring to.

“But the issue is that you stopped talking. You got quiet.” Your mother looks back at her hands again, her gaze hardening. “Then when Haru’s incident happened…you shut us all out. Everyone…” She whispers, lines between her brows forming, a hint of disappointment in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Even Jungkook.”

You can’t help but feel that same knife start slicing open the inside of your chest at the mention of his name again. “Probably because it’s his fau—”

“—He lost Haru too, y/n.” Your mom cuts you off, her eyes that are filled with something close to anger land on you. “You both did and what’s worse is that you both lost one another in the process.”

“I don’t remember the process but I’m sure I had a hard time even looking him in the eye.” You spit out. “You don’t know what happ—”

“—Do you?” She throws back at you. “Because you have yet to give me a story that makes even a little sense.”

Your heart starts screaming like someone just squeezed it way too hard. You force yourself to look away because tears that no one invited start to form. You feel done with this conversation but before you can announce its over, your mom sighs again and her palm rests against your back and you don’t have it in you to shove her off.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters softly, almost sounding regretful. “I am. You have no idea…” You feel her hand slowly retreat from your back, “How sometimes I would just pray you wouldn’t get your memories back. So you wouldn’t…”

Your mother’s voice grows much softer, almost too quiet to hear.

“Seeing you heartbroken all over again hurts us, y/n. I thought it would be easier…for you. But I guess it’s just easier for us.” She admits, a sharpness in her tone that indicates her regret. “There’s no way you would live happier if parts of you felt missing.”

You feel her words stick to your skin uncomfortably, like sweat from the hot sun rather than a run you worked for. It’s unpleasant but also unwelcomed.

Unwelcomed because you don’t want to accept a life where that could be the case—forced to live a life even with parts of you missing.

An uncomfortable reality and possibility.

“More than…” You begin, hands lifting to gesture towards nothing. “This is more than just Jungkook.”

Your mom chuckles to herself. “Of course I know that.”

“I’m starting to wonder what would feel worse,” You glance towards your empty hands before your fingers clutch nothing softly. “Remembering my child. Or not remembering my child.” Then your lips curl into a half smile that feels so empty as you silently cringe toward yourself, “It doesn’t even feel right saying ‘my’…” you immediately halt, teeth suddenly piercing into your bottom lip. You don’t even feel right calling Haru ‘your’ child. Because you don’t feel like his mother.

You try to keep the half smile plastered on your face but the sharp shock of tears that fill your eyes betray your wants. You quickly blink them away.

“I want to hate Jungkook so bad for so many reasons,” You admit before clearing your throat, “But I mostly hate him because at least he would recognize our sons laugh while I don’t. I hate him because I blame him but at least he knows the kid that I hate him for.”

Also an uncomfortable reality.

“Well,” Your mothers tone lets you know she’s about to change the subject. “You had a doctor’s appointment recently, right? How did it go?”

You shake your head, “He said the progress can be really slow…and that it’s normal for the brain to block out certain traumatic events. So much…” You pause.

“So much what?”

You sigh, “So much doesn’t make sense. It has me feeling so restless.”

“I’m sorry.” Your mom releases a shaky breathy before you hear her voice crack. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know what’s the worst part?” You decide to keep the venting session going. “I just feel ashamed. I’m a parent but I don’t even know about it. I feel so lost. I don’t think if I was given a child I could—”

“This doesn’t make you less of a mother, y/n.” Your mom snaps her eyes in your direction, a fierceness in them. “You are still a parent. A damn good one at that.”

You study your mother’s expression with a fondness, because you see her sincerity. This makes your eyes sting again. “Thanks, mom.”

After a nice weekend with your parent’s, you decide you’ve been resting enough. You want to start working again, having too much time on your hands seems like a problem nowadays. You find yourself back at that new café.

“I’ll take a honey lavender latte.” You tell the girl at the counter, her eyes immediately widening before she nods her head in approval.

“Great choice. A personal fav.” She grins before continuing, “And I make it the best.”

A new voice joins in from behind, startling you. “Make that two.” A man says. You quickly turn around, eyes rising towards the same man you spilled coffee on. “Oh, it’s you.”

He brings a hand to his heart, “I’m a you? That means you remember me!” He smiles at you, shaking his dark hair from his eyes.

You bite your lip, guilt sinking in from the last time. “Well, I thought you were gonna press charges for burning you last time. So, I guess I would remember.”

He looks taken aback, his eyes going round. “Press charges?” Then he laughs, “No, no. I wouldn’t do that, who wants to deal with cops, anyway?”

“Just the two lattes?” The girl at the counter speaks up in a sing song voice and you immediately spin in your spot to apologize to her but the man beats you to it while he pulls out his wallet.

“Should we get a cookie too?” He asks you, his head tilting a little and you start shaking your head. “You sure?” He smiles.

You’re the one taken aback. This guy is too kind. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone.

“Seokjin, you are going to buy us out again.” The girl sighs as she smiles before glancing at you. “He ordered us all out just yesterday.”

“It was for the elderly! You know they get a little cranky if they don’t get something a little sweet to eat! Hasn’t it brought more customers? You could say thank you.” He gets playfully defensive, pout on his lips and the girl gives a shrug while nodding. “Well, it does make my boss happy. And if he’s happy,” She leans over the counter and whispers. “It’s a better day for everyone.” Then she giggles.

“See!” Seokjin crosses his arms like he’s still offended. “I’m just trying to help you all have a better day!”

You guess he is this nice to everyone.

And before you know it, he’s taking out his card and paying for the drinks. You realize it but it’s too late.

“You didn’t have to pay for that…” You mumble, hand paused on your own wallet. “But thank you.”

“Hopefully you’ll have an even better day too.” He smiles at you and it feels warm.

You take a moment to get a good look at him and you realize just how handsome he is. You remember his chest and broad shoulders from last time but now you see just how full and plump his lips are but you also like his brown eyes.

He smiles at you again.

You’re staring.

“See you around, I guess.” Seokjin puts his wallet back into his back pocket before walking off towards a table near a window.

You know his name but he doesn’t know yours and that feels a little bit like a shame.

But there’s no time for harmless nice guys giving you warm smiles. You’re here to work. Or actually here to retrain yourself on how to do your work.

Your job agreed to help you relearn everything so today, you’re going to sit at a table and get trained. And the girl you knew from college that works at your job will be in contact with you if you have any questions. Mijoo. Apparently you two were a bit acquainted before you started working from home.

When you find a table near the bookshelves, you get to work. There’s updates on old programs you were familiar with but there’s new ones too. Plus, the market is a bit different. It’s a lot to learn but you think you’ll get the hang of it quickly. Just like you did back in the day when you were just starting out.

Two hours or more has passed and you’re buried in your work. But you see a man in your peripherals and a cookie wrapped in parchment paper suddenly on the table right next to your laptop.

You look up and Seokjin gives you that same warm smile before it turns sheepish. “I ended up ordering two for myself a little while ago but I’m too full. You can have it. Well…well, only if you want it, of course.”

You blink up at him before you look at the cookie.

“It’s okay, if you don’t!”

Your eyes go to him again and you shake your head before you give him your own smile. “No, no!” You tell him quickly, “I-I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Oh.” His lips form the perfect ‘o’ and he gives you a nod. “Nice. See ya.” And he’s smiling again before walking out of the café.

His entire aura is warm and you realize you appreciate people like him even more now. With how cold life has been.

After a long day of sitting at the café, you’re now sitting on the floor of your dusty attic. It’s gotten easy to figure out which boxes were stored here by your own hands and which boxes are the ones that Jungkook packed up to avoid you seeing your life. It’s mostly obvious because Jungkook’s packing is much more organized than yours.

You wonder if this box of framed photos in front of you is so neat because he looked at each one slowly, taking his time as he looked at the memories he knew you wouldn’t remember.

You wonder if he took his time because he misses Haru.

And because he missed you.

You manage to conceal a bitter scoff as you lift your foot and push it flat against the box, forcing it back a few inches. Your concern isn’t Jungkook right now. Stop thinking about him. Stop looking at your photos with him. Stop looking at the life you lived with him.

Right now those are your priority.

A strained sigh leaves your mouth as you eye the boxes you’ve dragged to the other side of the attic. You’ve been trying to organize everything in here so you know what’s what. Eyes slide to the left where all your household memories are. Then they slowly drag across the attic, passing by an old, dusty desk to the right side where your personal mystery boxes are.

It’s taken a few days to really separate everything. Because this attic has more than just some boxes of memories and boxes of mysteries. It also has a few too many creepy crawlers hanging in the corners. And things you’re sure 33 year old you wanted to sell and get rid of.

Buzz.

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to your phone when it lights up and vibrates the attic floor, already seeing that it’s another message from Misuk in the group chat with her and Subin.

Last you checked they were gushing over a new song from an artist they like who you barely even know so you don’t rush to really look. Your eyes stay on the screen until the light dims and it goes black.

You’d be lying if you said you wish you didn’t have help. Someone to guide you to some answers.

Another strained sigh before a half assed chuckle barely rumbles in your chest.

Well, ‘someone’ could guide you to some answers. And that someone is 33 year old you but unfortunately you don’t understand majority of what you’ve found. As if only parts of the puzzle are in these boxes, just edges and corner pieces and you’re missing all the pieces that fill everything in.

Your eyes still linger on the black screen as they begin to lose focus as your mind whirls into your endless list of questions again. The boxes of mysteries are only three boxes. One of them having nothing to do with your son, you think. But the other two have caused some concern.

Something tells you that 33 year old you is really not convinced that your son is dead.

It’s clear you were investigating on your own. But your notes barely make sense. And it is more than fucking frustrating.

You’re about to close your eyes and groan but your phone suddenly lights up again as you feel a slight vibration next to your foot. It’s another text but it doesn’t look like its apart of the group chat.

You squint at the screen but it’s too far to really read anything so you finally give in and reach for the device and bring it closer to your face. And then you feel the sudden thump in your lower belly where your heart just landed.

Jungkook 9:19pm

How are you doing?

A razor sharp sting tightens every muscle in your body, the sudden tension making your breaths stop.

More than a month and a half since you’ve last seen and spoken to him and he’s finally said something to you.

Finally because as much as you hate him, his existence makes you breathe. And you have to breathe to live.

Buzz.

Your hand vibrates along with your phone and you suddenly clench your fingers around it.

Jungkook 9:19pm

I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.

Your heart suddenly leaps up into your throat, choking you a bit as you try to breathe. Is that a confession? It already bothers you that he barely tried to explain himself and now he’s been silent all this time. And now he’s apologizing? He’s guilty, isn’t—

Buzz.

Jungkook 9:20pm

I just wish you would talk to me y/n…

That concealed scoff from earlier has finally broken free, pushing past your lips in something like disgust. Talk to him? Talk to him? You feel an uncomfortable anger start poking your skin from the inside and you squeeze your phone harder in you hand. The fucking audacity.

There’s a brief moment when you consider chucking your phone across the attic but fortunately you only slam it to the floor. Frustration still hot on your skin, you quickly reach for a worn out decorative pillow and hurl it in front of you with a lot of strength, knocking against the old desk as it wobbles for a moment.

You release a short puff of air, head lowering and eyes closing as you try to calm yourself. You’ll admit, it did feel kind of good to release some en—

Thump.

Your eyes snap open as you tilt your head up towards the desk where the sudden sound just came. Did something fall inside? But what? You had checked the desk before. The top drawer only had a few pens and some sticky notes while the bottom drawer was empty minus some loose sheets of printer paper. And the left side of the desk is just two empty book shelves. It is basically empty.

It was probably nothing.

You’re about to move on, mind already wanting to go back to Jungkook when the sudden thump just can’t make sense. Something with some weight definitely fell in or on the desk, right? But you’re sure there’s nothing from when you checked the other week.

Doesn’t hurt to look again, you decide. Maybe this is your intuition talking to you.

You finally lift yourself from the attic floor, giving one last look at the boxes that are filled with your life with Jungkook and Haru before heading towards the middle where the desk is. It’s got an impressive layer of dust that you haven’t found any real reason to clean since the desk isn’t something you’d visit often.

Giving in, you reach for the top drawer and open it, just like you had the other week, but just like last time, the drawer only has three pens, some used sticky notes with doodles and numbers lying around and one black marker.

You knew there was nothing. Shutting the drawer, you quickly open the bottom drawer. It’s a deeper space, like you could fit a small filing cabinet. But instead, there’s only a few loose sheets of blank printer paper.

Not convinced, you shove your hand inside the drawer, feeling around for anything strange and even trying to reach behind but you’re met with nothing. Okay. You step away from the desk for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously because you’re certain something with more weight than any of those things fell. And fell here.

There’s nothing else here besides this raggedy pillow. You glance down at it, the pathetic thing on the floor before you groan, kicking it away from you.

So what? You just imagine all kinds of things now? Is that the new normal?

Suddenly not minding the thick layer of dust, you lean forward in defeat, hands gripping the edge of the desk as you support some of your weight onto it but the desk wobbles forward on its probably broken, unsteady legs. And you know you don’t imagine it when something with some weight definitely shifts inside.

“Uh, what was that…?” You mumble to yourself, eyebrows coming together slowly as you take another look at the desk. Your eyes immediately fall to the left side where the two empty shelves are. It definitely came from this side.

You quickly squat down, eyes trained on the shelves, inspecting every single inch of the empty and terribly dusty space. “Don’t tell me…” You whisper, expression highly focused as you look at the back panel of the shelves. The shelving space is not nearly as deep as of the width of the desk.

You blink at it, breaths now falling from your lips faster as your fingers quickly go to touch the backing panel and when it wiggles freely with enough pressure, you know you’ve found something. Feeling impatient, you jostle the thin wood around until you can figure out how to remove it.

And when it starts poking through the side of the shelf, your heart starts racing while you quickly slide the panel through the wooden desk. You feel it. Maybe it’s instinct because somewhere in your brain you know this is familiar and means something. The panel drops to the floor once its slid out but before it even touches, your hands are already digging inside.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You repeat with shaky breaths. Fingers already grasping what’s here and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious. A shoe box. An open shoe box that’s close to overflowing. You pull it out while you sit down onto the floor, the box settling right in front of you.

“Okay,” You sigh, reaching for the first item on top. It’s a small note book, the kind you’d use to make a check list of sorts. You take a deep breath before flipping it open and a few loose contents fall out. And then you feel the breath of a ghost at the base of your neck.

You pick up a folded sheet of paper along with a bent photo of Nabi. You feel the cold breath travel down your spine as you unfold the paper and read what’s written in someone else’s handwriting.

Yun Nabi

118, Seolleungro-150, Yongsan-gu, Seoul

010-6203-3087

010 3476 9876àweekends

010 9874 3456 new ##

You stare down at the worn paper, confusion clouding your mind. You want to rip her photo to shreds.

You quickly glance to the bent photo in your other hand and before you tell your hand what to do, it’s already crumbling it. Your dark gaze set on the now wrinkled woman who managed to gain Jungkook’s attention.

Maybe it’s not her fault if she’s great.

Maybe it’s your fault.

Your eyes stay trained on the crumbled photo but they’ve lost focus once again. Soon the balled up picture and the folded note fall to your lap as Numbness hugs you over your shoulders and as Insecurity sits next to you and whispers into your ear.

Why did Jungkook cheat on you?

You manage to blink but your throat feels dry.

Why did he do that to you? Why would anyone…?

You want to laugh at yourself. Because you know if this happened to anyone else you would know it wasn’t their fault. The person who cheated…it’s about them and no one else. And you want to tell yourself this, remind yourself, confirm that this isn’t your fault.

But why do you sit here, letting Numbness hug you tighter? And why do you sit here and wonder?

You wonder…you wonder where you went wrong that you were no longer enough for him.

And it doesn’t feel fair that you’re wondering that.

You take the photograph and crumple it even more before throwing it to the side and decide to open the notebook. And you see more puzzle pieces.

Routine

7 he wakes up….sometimes 8

Jungkook takes him to work sometimes for fun

Someone at work?? Who? Another list

Daycare usually Mondays & Thursdays for sure

Busiest days at work

You flip the page

Thursday the 14th, at the bus station,

The 18th when I was going home

There was a car parked outside on the street for 3 days

The 5th

The 8th

The 12th I ran into someone who knew me but I didn’t know them

A man with buzzed hair

Something hot bubbles inside your chest and it feels like it’s burning you. Anxiety has a touch of fire. You flip to the next page.

It just scribbles like you were frustrated.

Just like you are now.

You decide to close to the notebook. Discomfort swallowing you like a dry pill.

But you don’t stop looking through the box. Pictures of people you don’t know. More lists of times and dates. But no context. More frustration building.

Your head snaps up suddenly when you recall something falling so you quickly reach inside the secretive hole in the desk and feel around. Your fingers grasp at nothing until something cold is felt. You can tell what it is immediately as you wrap your fingers around the device. A phone.

You take the cold, shiny device in your clammy hands and rush to turn it on but it’s got a dead battery. You turn the phone upside down to check what kind of charger it takes and remember that downstairs in the kitchen there’s a drawer of random charging cables.

You need to get this thing turned on. Now.

“Are you okay?” You immediately straighten your back, phone dropping to the attic floor, the sudden voice a shock since you live alone. You quickly look around you, eyes darting from place to place but of course, there’s no one here. You feel sick. Especially because…didn’t that voice sound like—

“Are you okay?” Jungkook comes next to you, his eyes avoiding yours but he can’t hide the concern in his voice. You look at him, equally annoyed as he is. But still, you hear in his voice he doesn’t totally hate you.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, fingers picking at the bandage wrapped around your palm. “It just got scraped.”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly, “Misuk said Subin threw up in her mouth because of the blood.”

You shrug, “Okay, it was pretty bad.”

Jungkook stays silent and the same tension that’s been building since Sana’s wedding is here again. You, Jungkook, Misuk and Subin came to Busan for the weekend to celebrate your mom’s birthday but today, the day of the party, has been anything but fun. One thing after the other, but the cherry on top was around 20 minutes ago when you accidentally sliced your palm open while helping in the kitchen.

Now you’re outside trying to cool off but the last person you want to see has come to check on you.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook stares up at the tree you two are standing in front of outside your house. He doesn’t bother to try and soften his tone. Sure, it’s concerned but it’s also irritated.

“I told you it’s fine.” You answer, sounding clipped. “Just go back inside.”

“You’re mad at me if I’m inside. You’re mad at me if I’m outside.” He stuffs his hands in his front jean pockets and continues gazing at the tall tree. “I really don’t understand why you’re so up—”

“—Oh? You don’t?” You turn your head to glare at him, “Really?”

You watch Jungkook’s profile, his jaw tightening for a moment before he sighs out.

“I don’t know.” He tells you before turning to face you as well. Your eyes are narrowed but he sees plenty of disappointment in them. “Maybe I do. But I also seriously don’t.”

You look down to the ground, a moment of consideration because you kind of understand him. But then you recall last night and realize that no, he definitely should understand why you’re mad.

Things have changed between you two. Ever since Sana’s wedding, there’s been something different and enticing. Moments that feel way too charged to be platonic. But neither of you have spoken up about it. Maybe he’s afraid you don’t feel it. Or maybe you’re now just realizing you’re afraid he is the one who doesn’t feel it.

Because how doesn’t he understand that having his last serious girlfriend from Busan in your parents living room while they flirt with one another relentlessly in front of you, is not going to make you mad?

“You don’t think flirting with your ex-girlfriend in front of me wasn’t going to make me mad, Jungkook?” You throw the words at him without much care for his reaction. It’s an honest question, in your book.

“Okay,” Jungkook tilts his head back before running his hands through his hair, “So this is about Hanja.” He groans a little before giving in and taking a step closer to you. “I didn’t think it was a big deal…and you call her my ex girl-friend as if she doesn’t have a name. Hanja told me she had a lot of classes with you in High School!”

“And?” You deadpan. “Doesn’t make us friends.”

“Okay.” He nods but now he’s the one with disappointment in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you had to be rude.”

“You invited her to my mom’s birthday party!” You throw back, “And have barely even…” It sucks that your voice gets a little softer because you just want to make a point. “You’ve barely even looked at me since she’s been here.”

Jungkook’s lips part and he looks conflicted as he registers your words but you don’t wait for him to get it before you continue.

“Sure,” You manage a stubborn shrug, “Maybe you’re not flirting with her but you don’t stop her when she does with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow, “She hasn’t flirted with me, y/n.” He tries to assure you, his tone finally not irritated but instead the same soft as yours. “We just have history, you know? But that was what? 5 years ago? 6? 7? I don’t even know. We ended on good terms so I thought it was harmless. She’s in town too and had nothing to do…I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“I just…” You finally meet his eye for the first time more willingly, “I don’t know.”

He finally relaxes his features and a pleasantly pleased smile starts tugging at the corner of his lips, “You’re…jealous.” He confirms softly.

You raise a brow at him, feeling annoyed. “So then you do understand why I’m mad.”

“Yeah.” He agrees but you see the uncertainty in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure. Maybe hoping but I couldn’t be sure, you know?”

“Did you want me to be jealous?” You ask, unsure how that makes you feel but you see genuine and quiet panic all over his face while he shakes his head.

“No, no.” He tells you with big eyes. “But when I realized you were mad at me, I thought it could be because you were jealous. And,” He pauses, swallowing what you think is nerves. “That’s why I became hopeful, I guess.”

“And why is that?” A cool breeze suddenly picks up and it feels nice against your cheeks.

“Because it might mean…” His words grow quieter, seeking your understanding of where he was going. “But without being direct…well, I can’t really be sure, you know?”

“Then why can’t we be direct?” You gesture between your bodies, “I like you, Jungkook.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to say it, to admit it, but it does take a lot of effort to not tear your eyes away from him in embarrassment. But your gaze remains on his.

“And there’s no way I’m imagining—”

“—You aren’t!” Jungkook panics, his fingers flying to your wrists, holding on to them as he persuades your eyes to remain on his again. “You aren’t imagining it. I know it, too.” He tells you but he looks and sounds conflicted.

“For months, Jungkook.” You say quietly, “I’ve been wondering for months if you’re going to make a real move on me.”

He can’t help but smile at you nervously, his clammy fingers still pressing into your wrists. “I just…” Jungkook’s smile begins dropping as he explains himself, “…I’m so afraid of talking about this because it might change our friendship and you’re just,” He pauses, eyes searching yours because he needs to see if you understand. “You’re too important, y/n.”

“You’d rather never tell me how you feel because it might change our friendship?” You ask him, ignoring the fire burning along the edges of your skin. “You would rather spend forever just wondering if I feel the same as you? Just like I’ve been wondering if you feel the same as me? Too afraid to talk about it because it…might change our friendship?”

Jungkook’s fingers finally disconnect from your skin and into his hair, his nerves only multiplying but he finds the courage to say, “If you didn’t feel the same, things would change.”

“If I didn’t feel the same then things wouldn’t have changed in the first place. Jungkook, things have already changed. And I don’t like wondering. We’re already past platonic so I’ll tell you—”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding.

A new memory unlocked.

And it only makes you sit on your attic floor and cry.

Great timing.

Your fingers feel frozen, maybe even numb as you dig through another random kitchen drawer to find the correct charger for the phone you’ve found. So far you haven’t been lucky. Then again, nothing feels lucky. You’ve been quiet to yourself all day after last night. Not even a thought out loud.

Your eyes grow watery again but you immediately slam your lids shut, squeezing tightly because you refuse to shed anymore tears. You might have to buy a new charger but you really aren’t in the mood to leave the house. You aren’t in the mood for anything except maybe hurling more old, worn out, decorative pillows at dusty furniture. But now you feel afraid for what you might find. The more mysteries you unlock, you’re afraid to unlock a memory along with it.

It's evening now, the kitchen clock says 6:13pm. The day has gone by. You watched the sun rise this morning and now you’re witnessing it set. You have yet to find it in you to sleep today. Maybe you’re afraid you’ll slip into your bed that you once shared with Jungkook and suddenly you’ll remember all the times you’ve slept in it with him. You can’t afford any more of that. Just yesterday you were begging 33 year old you to share some of the life you’ve missed and now that she is sharing some of the years…you’re realizing you aren’t ready.

You take a deep breath, shutting a drawer shut when you decide to order a new charging cable for the phone. Your eyes slide to the device that rests peacefully on the counter while your heart beats uncomfortably in your throat. You stare at it, wondering what contents lie inside but a part of you feels fearful of what you might find.

Taking another breath, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself for a moment before you decide to take care of this. Sitting yourself at the kitchen island, opening your laptop, you search the phone and get the cable ordered for delivery tomorrow. This is better than driving yourself nuts trying to find it.

You close your eyes, resting your head down to the counter, wishing you could turn your day around.

Ding Dong.

Your eyes snap open.

And something unsettling starts whirling in your belly. As if you can sense who is at your door.

Knock Knock Knock.

You groan quietly to yourself because you just know. You know exactly who it is for some insane reason. You just feel it. You stand from the stool and walk yourself to your front door. Swinging it open without even peeping through the hole to confirm your suspicions.

Jungkook’s doesn’t look too good. For as handsome as he is, he looks rough. His skin is dry, his lips are pale and the bags under his eyes give away how much sleep he isn’t getting. You don’t care though. Not about him. Your fingers grip around the door frame tighter, your skin burning at the sight.

“I just wanted to see how you were.” He tells you, voice so quiet you had to read his lips. You want to scoff bitterly in his face, shut him out and make him feel thrown away.

But your foot pushes the front door further open as you turn around to go into the living room. You’ve invited him in. Though, ‘invited’ feels like a strong word.

You can hear the door creak open even furth from behind you, shoes are shuffling onto the floor and the door clicks shut. You hold your breath as you walk to the sofa, sitting yourself down at the very end of it as your eyes glue themselves to the black screen of the TV.

Jungkook follows your lead and sits at the other end of the couch. In your peripherals, he looks like a big, black scribble of a thousand swirling lines and you don’t have it in you to focus your eyes on him and let him appear as Jungkook. As a person. So, you keep your eyes on the TV.

Nothing is said between you both for a long while, all your senses are heightened though as you anticipate his next words to you. The hairs on your arms rise when the click of the AC goes off as it turns on. You wonder if his next words have to do with apologizing about cheating on you. Apologize to you that you just couldn’t be enough. Apologize to you for losing your son.

Your head slightly tilts in the direction of the kitchen when you notice the soft drip drops of water from the faucet. The distant bark from a small dog. Jungkook’s fingernails scratching his forearm. Every noise is going off in your ears, haunting you, taunting you and driving you insane.

You only want to hear his voice.

“Why are you here?” You finally break the noisy silence.

“To see you.” He says, voice quiet and afraid. “You’re doing better than me, huh?”

Your palms are flat against the couch cushion before you slowly curl your fingers, grabbing nothing of the material at his words. “Do you really think you get to say that to me?”

“This isn’t fair for either of us, y/n.” Jungkook has the audacity to keep speaking. “You just don’t understand.”

You twist your head to eye him, your jaw tight as you watch him sit on the sofa, eyes cowering away from yours. “You’ll stop talking now.” You tell him as your voice becomes quiet and afraid as well. You’re livid but you speak like you’re hurt.

“Then…” Jungkook pauses, his eyes going all around the living room now before he sighs. “Then I’ll just listen.”

You push your head back in disbelief, “I didn’t ask you to come here so I can talk to you. In fact, I didn’t ask you to come here at all.”

He finally turns his head toward you, his eyes are red and watery and you hate that you hate seeing him on the verge of tears. You watch his throat as you pay attention to the hard way he swallows. “I know. But I had to see you.”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding, a harsh banging from inside your forehead. You quickly let your head fall into your hands when those words keep repeating inside your mind. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you.

You groan into your hands. The pain erupting on all sides of your head. The words repeating over and over, making your ears feel like they’re bleeding. I know. But I had to see you.

“y/n?” You hear Jungkook’s quiet and afraid voice.

I know. But I had to see you.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me…” Jungkook’s eyes are blood shot. You know he’s been drinking again.

“I know.” You mutter, “But I had to see you.”

“Oh.” He stumbles backward, his hand widening his front door to his new, shitty apartment. You feel anger bubbling, because you know he’s drunk. You’re doing everything in your power to keep it together and he’s wasting his time drinking.

“You’ve shut out Jimin.” You tell him, cutting to the chase. “So you don’t know anything, do you?”

“W-What’s there to know? I don’t need them anymore. Also, I was fucking fired.”

You snap your eyes to his as he still stands at his open doorway. “You’re pissing me off, Jungkook.”

“I can do this on my—”

“—They’re closing the case.” You say. “They’re saying he’s…that he’s…” You pause, throat growing drier. “You know.”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook drunkenly shrugs, slamming the door shut, making you flinch. “They’re all wrong, anyway.”

You feel your shoulders growing tenser, your lips in a hard, thin line before they die into a frown. “They’re saying we should hold a funeral.”

Jungkook’s body goes still, his hanging arms at his sides suddenly rise to his face when he rubs his temples. “Excuse me?”

“They want to—”

“Just stop!” He suddenly cries out, voice shrill. You see his eyes growing redder and redder as tears fill them up. “None of you know what you-you’re talking about. Just shut up, all of you!”

You flinch.

Jungkook’s fingers go into his hair when he starts pulling on the strands. “This just isn’t right.” He keeps muttering to himself, “I got this. I got this. I got this.” He starts pacing back and forth in front of his coffee table. “Just stop. Stop talking.”

You stand in silence.

“I said stop talking!”

You watch him unravel.

“Jung—”

Glass breaks across the coffee table. A shattered soju bottle that he’s thrown.

You flinch again.

You take a step back.

Jungkook falls to the floor, crying and yelling at no one. The loss of your son is much worse than you could have imagined. But you knew telling Jungkook about the funeral was going to cause something more serious to unravel. But you didn’t imagine this.

“y/n?” Jungkook voice sounds sober now. “y/n?”

Your head is about to split into sections, the pain so overwhelming.

You lift your face from your hands, your cheeks overflowing with tears. Why did you have to remember that?

“Hey,” Jungkook stands from the sofa and comes closer to you. His hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder but just like in your memory, you flinch. He immediately frowns. “y/n…” He brings his hand back to his body. “Talk to me, I’ll just listen.”

“G-go.” You keep your head low as your eyes stay glued to your lap. “Please just go.”

His hands freeze at his sides, using all of his self-control. Even you can feel how tense his body is, just from the heat that radiates off of it. You’re being serious. He needs to go before you spiral into one of your throbbing headaches that give you a panic attack. The kind you can manage on your own—and prefer to.

“Please, Jungkook…” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m not feeling well now so pl—”

“—Okay.” His fingers curl into hard fists. “Call me if you need anything. Please.” He stands here for another moment, like his feet have become glued to the floor and he’s unable to move. But after a tentative sigh, they finally move. And your ears bleed again at each sound that can be heard. The click of the AC turning off, the small dog whining in your neighbor’s yard, each drip of water dropping from the faucet and finally the whoosh of the front door opening and closing shut. And you finally let go a long, long breath.

Your head hurts and your heart hurts, the memory fresh in your mind. You never imagined to see Jungkook…like that. You barely recognized him. Does he have a drinking problem? Or did? You need to erase these images in your head, or at least scatter something pretty over them. And that’s when you get an idea that you know is pure torture.

One of the boxes from the attic is sat on your living floor, with your bottom plopped right next to it. It’s a box you organized yourself, you can tell. Just a box of intimate memories with your ex-husband. You pull out a letter you’ve read at least six times now…might as well make it seven.

The envelope is pink with little hearts drawn all over it and though it’s only eight years old, it looks like it’s at least 20. The envelope itself is wrinkly with random water stains and the page inside is soft and used like you’ve read this letter a thousand times. Might as well make it a thousand and one.

You slip the paper out of the envelope, unfolding it carefully, the crinkling paper opening up with Jungkook’s handwriting written all over.

April 10 2015

Dear y/n,

Hi it’s me, your boooooyfriend. >.< sorry I’m still getting used to it. You’re probably wondering why I’m writing a letter when I could just call or text you but you seemed to think it was cute in that movie we watched the other day and so Im writing you one too!! Also, I think my peers are thinking Im working really hard on a case. I wish I was but they won’t give me anything good. I know it hasn’t even been a year since I finally landed here in the Investigation sector as a detective but they still treat me like such a rookie…blaaaahhhhh you know this already. The captain seems to think I have potential though. But ya know what? The guys here said the only thing ive done right so far is getting you as a girlfriend hahaha

Maybe they’re right I mean they’re definitely right

I miss you so much

Im sitting here at my desk writing you and its just making me miss you a kabillzillion times more…….i seriously aaaaahhhh im going crazy because I miss you that much

Im so lucky youre so amazing and my favorite person to exist and so pretty so pretty

I know we’ve only been together for a short while but what if I told you I know exactly how I feel about yoooouuuuu huh what if

Ask me about it when I see you tonight

Love,

Jungkook Your cheerios

You read it. Then you read it again. This is the Jungkook you want to remember.

It’s the next day and you’re opening the package you ordered just yesterday. Pulling out a small box, you get it open and unravel the charging cable to the phone you’ve found. Taking a look at the clock, you realize you’re a bit behind. You wanted to get to the café at noon for work but it’s already 15 after. You quickly plug the charger into the wall and get the phone charging. It’s dead so it’ll take a while to get turned on so you decide to leave it here while you head out.

The café is a bit busy today, more people than you’re used to, but thankfully you see an open table. You set up your laptop and get to work. Taking a pause to message Mijoo about needing some guidance if she can meet any of these days. It would be nice to have some help in person. After working for a bit, you can’t help but lift your face from the screen and dart your eyes around the place. No sign of Seokjin today. Not that it means anything but he’s got the kind of warm, reassuring smile that you could use these days.

And just like clockwork, the quiet bell dings when he walks through the café’s front door. He meets your eye immediately and gives you a small nod and the smile you were searching for. You nod back, eyes going back down to the laptop before you take another peak towards Seokjin. He’s walked up to the counter, talking with the young girl that’s always here. After a moment she hands him a box of what you assume are desserts. Maybe he’s giving them to the elderly again.

Then he walks out.

Oh, he isn’t staying today.

That’s okay, you don’t have time to chat with a harmless nice guy anyway. You have work to do. Something to truly get your mind off of everything else you’ve been going through. You think it’s a miracle you have it in you to try every day. In another universe, you might have already gone insane.

After working a little while longer, you pack your things up and head to your car. It’s a sunny day, barely any clouds in the sky and it feels warm. Warm enough to make you forget this coldness that lingers all around you, all inside you.

You start driving home when you remember you’re supposed to pick up a few groceries so you stop by the market first. It’s not too crowded and since you’re in an okay mood, you decide to put in your earphones and walk inside with a pep to your step. You needed zucchini…what else? Bread for sure was on your list. Peanut butter, eggs, oh yeah and some chips for when you get a craving.

You start heading to the aisle with peanut butter when you recognize someone familiar.

“Seokjin?” You mumble his name but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes fully focused on his jams. He stands here, deep in thought before he finally reaches for one.

“Hi.” You say a little louder and he jumps in his spot.

He turns to face you, ears turning red when he sees you. “Hi.” He stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, “I just realized I don’t know your name.” Then he chuckles.

You can’t help but crack a smile, “It’s y/n.”

“Ah, y/n. Yeah, that suits you.” He tells you confidently.

“Does it?”

“Do you usually shop here?” Seokjin gestures around the aisle, “I’ve never seen you before. Or are you…” He suddenly drops his smile and looks serious. “Following me?” Then he breaks into a huge smile before adding, “Dun, dun, duuuun.”

You feel your stomach swirl with something before you shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “No, no! I live around here actually. This is just a coincidence.”

“A coincidence, huh? A lot of those lately.” He gives you another smile, this time more teasing. “We should just meet on purpose, you know.”

You stand here, taken aback by his words. Is he implying meeting intentionally?

He seems to feel your shift. “Unless, unless…” His eyes avert yours now, his ears turning a deeper shade of red. “Sorry. Unless you don’t want to. Maybe you’re already seeing someone.”

You shake your head quickly, “No. I’m…I’m not.” You’re not but it feels wrong to say it. “But I wasn’t assuming…anything. Like, if you were implying a date or something.”

Seokjin pouts his lips before glancing up at the ceiling, “Why not? You would have been right.”

You blink at him, taken aback again. “Oh.”

“I happen to know a pretty great restaurant. Maybe we can not coincidentally meet there?”

He’s…asking you out.

And it pains you because… “I can’t. Sorry,” You look down at your feet before glancing towards the jams. “Umm, I’m kind of going through something and—”

“—Oh.” Seokjin nods his head quickly. “No, no. I understand…you don’t have to explain. I’m kind of going through something too and I know that a good way to get through it is some nice company every now and then.” He gives you a warm smile, all the teasing gone. “I understand you though. So don’t worry but…” He suddenly pats his pants pockets before looking delighted. “In case you change your mind…I’m learning to…how do they kids say…shoot my shot.” He suddenly pulls out a receipt and a pen and scribbles something on it before handing it to you.

His number.

“Just in case!” He cheeses harder.

“I honestly don’t think it’s a big deal.” Misuk looks at you through the camera, her face looking brighter. “It’s just a date!”

“It is a big deal.” You whine again, “I’m in love with someone else and I have a whole lot of mess going on.”

Subin nods her head sympathetically, “That’s true. But I think Misuk means it’s not a big deal because it could be…” She pauses, clearly thinking of the right words. It’s amusing to you to see they might agree on this. “A good thing? A simple thing! A little, you know, fun thing!”

“Exactly!” Misuk drags out the word, “You don’t have to fall in love but you’re so focused on…you know, your memories…that you aren’t living life.”

“Uh,” You begin to defend yourself, “I’m—”

“—Yes, yes.” Misuk waves you off, “You are getting back into work! And that’s good! But you really should start living a normal life again.”

“And…” Subin looks off camera, her eyes looking softer. “It’s kind of the same. You are missing your memories, yes, and I’m so sorry…but 33 year old you was the same. Divorced. And I don’t think you were in any headspace to even think about wanting Jungkook back.” She finishes quietly.

“You wanted nothing to do with him.” Misuk tells you. “So just live a little…you know, just normal things. And who knows, it might help with your memories.”

You sit still for a moment. You’ll admit that you haven’t exactly been living normally. You mostly sit around all day, alone, surrounding yourself with things you don’t understand and torture yourself with memories of Jungkook.

“Anyway, I’ll let you guys know if anything changes.” You chuckle after you focus your eyes on your friends again. “I just got home so I gotta put these groceries ...away" Your eye notices the list lying on the counter and you realize..."Damn, and I forgot the eggs. Anyway, I’ll call later!” You sing out.

“Okay! Bye!”

“Bye!” Subin sings back. And you end the call.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you deserve a little break or something simple and fun. You bite your lip, thoughts still lingering but you decide to reach into your back pocket and pull out the receipt Seokjin gave you. You shake your head quickly but reach for your phone and input the number and press call. You need light in this darkness.

You hate feeling defeated.

Sitting on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you as your hand clenches around this cold, empty and useless device.

The phone has either never been used or was completely wiped. You thought you could torture yourself with more information but you’ve come out of this empty handed. There’s nothing on here. No call history, no text history, no pictures or videos…nothing. You squeeze the phone harder, frustration still building. When your actual phone buzzes.

Your eyes shoot down to your now lit up phone and you drop the useless one to the couch cushion. It might be Subin gushing about this band she’s seeing this weekend. You’ll ignore—

Buzz.

You give in, reaching for your phone and your stomach does its usual uneasy swirling.

Jungkook 9:10pm

How are you feeling?

Jungkook 9:10pm

We don’t have to talk but at least tell me how youre doing…

Your eyes slam shut, the urge to cry too strong. Because you’re hurt. You’re hurting. You’re confused. You’re angry. And you’re sad.

Why are you so weak? You should delete him, block him and throw your whole phone away. Because your phone knows him and you don’t.

But you’re weak because you’re going to text back.

Except Jungkook beats you to it.

Jungkook 9:13pm

Did you get hit with a headache earlier? You okay? Have you seen your doctor lately?

All these questions are giving you different kind of headache.

You 9:13pm

Its fine, Im fine

You lie

Jungkook 9:13pm

Liar

You 9:14pm

Jungkook

You 9:14pm

Do you have a drinking problem?

You press send. You see the bubbles pop up your screen, indicating that he’s typing but they disappear. Then they reappear. And disappear again.

You 9:16pm

Jungkook?

Jungkook 9:16pm

Who told you that?

You feel your shoulders tense.

You 9:16pm

No one told me

You 9:17pm

I just remember when I went to your place…there was a lot of alcohol lying around and the place seemed rough

You 9:17pm

And idk I got thinking. Im not trying to accuse you or anything but…is what I saw…what I think it is?

You send. It’s not a total lie. Not what you’re referring to…but not a total lie.

You stare at the screen but there’s no indication if he’s read your message or not. No typing. Nothing. Your eyes glance at the clock and it reads 9:19pm now. It’s okay. Only two minutes. But why does it feel like eternity?

9:25pm and all you’ve done is sit, tightly wrapped in a blanket on your couch, and stare at your phone screen, touching the screen every time it times out. And still nothing.

But then you see bubbles pop up.

Back straightening, you breathe in and out as your eyes remain on the screen.

He’s been typing for three minutes.

You hold your breath now.

Jungkook 9:28pm

And if it is?

You let out a short breath, disbelief crawling all over your skin that you throw the blanket off of you and stand from the couch. Your memories are reliable.

You feel a sting pierce your eyes but you grit your teeth and hold any tears back. This is just too much for you to accept. You walk into the kitchen, frustration raging inside your body. You step up to the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter before leaning forward, sighing out your anger.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Calming down, you immediately grab a bowl and sniffle to yourself. You’ll just do these dishes and forget all about this.

You take another bowl, the hot water burning your fingers and palms as you absentmindedly scrub it clean.

“Sometimes I think you wash clean dishes at this point.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

You laugh, “Not true.”

“The water is too hot, baby.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, suddenly pecking it softly. “You’re going to melt the skin off your bones.”

You realize he’s right, the water is really hot but you were just lost in thought. Your wedding is in two days. You get out of your thoughts while you set the bowl back into the sink and turn the faucet off. “I’m just—”

“I know.” Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s nervous between us.”

You sigh, small smile on your face. “I’m not nervous. But I am, a little.”

“I know.”

“Not in a bad way.”

“I know that too.”

“In a…marrying the love of my life, wow life is crazy kind of way.” You dry your hands before twisting in Jungkook’s embrace and you lean in to kiss him. “You probably know what I mean.”

He laughs against your lips, “I would be the one who knows exactly what you mean.”

Your lips twist into a sheepish smile, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you more.”

You roll your eyes, a teasing smile forming now. “Liar.”

He looks surprised for a second before rolling his own eyes, “I’m serious.”

“You’re only serious about work nowadays.” You tease him, and you are mostly teasing. It’s only lately he’s been zeroed in on a case.

But Jungkook frowns, “It isn’t going well.” He admits to you. “I don’t know that we’ll get this one.”

“You will.” You lean forward more and nudge your nose against his, “You are the best there is.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Unfortunately I’m still in the ‘proving myself’ phase.”

“Here too.” You continue to tease him, “Still deciding if this wedding is happ—”

“—Heeeeey, don’t joke like that.” Jungkook nudges his nose against yours now, “Tell me I’m the best here too.”

Your hands trail down his chest, eyes focusing on his. “You are.”

“I wish Jimin would tell me that too.” He laughs a little but you know he’s serious. You take his hands in yours.

“You guys are new at being partners. Give it time, babe.”

“He hates me.” Jungkook sighs, “He thinks I mess everything up. And honestly, I can’t blow this one, y/n. The captain believes in me, which is good but my own partner doubts me.”

You understand this is hard for Jungkook to accept.

“Listen…” You give his hands a squeeze. “This is your first big one, right? Take it slow and I know you won’t get flustered like the last one.”

He immediately drops his hands from yours, “I can’t get like how I was with the last one.” Jungkook takes a step away from you, “This one is way too serious…the men I’m dealing with, y/n…you have no idea. I can’t mess this up.”

“Baby…” You feel bad for bringing up the last case he took with Jimin. He got too involved emotionally and when things didn’t end up well for the victim…”It’s okay. You have me to talk about this with and—”

“—But I don’t. I’m legally not allowed to. I got in trouble with sharing so much last time and…fuck,” Jungkook pauses. Closes his eyes slowly before taking a step forward and reaching for your hands again. “This is not what we need to be talking about right before our wedding. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You give his hands another squeeze. “We share our lives. With or without marriage, right?”

“I only wanna talk about us.” He breathes out softly, his lips inching closer to yours. “Let’s focus on you and me.”

And your skin is burning again. It’s on fire. Too much fire, it hurts.

And that’s when you realize you’re still here at your kitchen sink, hot lava rushing to your skin, burning you as you hold the bowl you were cleaning.

You take a deep breath, taking a step back from the sink when you slam your eyes shut and let out a loud groan. You don’t even flinch when the sound of glass hits the floor because you’ve thrown the bowl. You don’t care.

Another memory.

And it seems they’re all out of order.

Another bead of sweat dribbles down the side of Jungkook’s face, rolling right off his skin. And another miserable night. He gently throws his head back against the bathroom wall, his hairline drenched from hour two of hurling in the toilet. He’s drank too much again. Maybe some bad food poisoning in there. But even still, he knows he’s drank too much.

He isn’t abusing the alcohol, really. Not lately. But he knows what it can do to him. He hates it. He hates himself.

He hates this existence.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut before he groans to himself, knocking his head back a few more times. What is he doing?

He misses you.

He wants to make things right.

How?

Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before trying to stand from the floor. He’s wobbly but he manages. He’s tired and he isn’t sleeping and he can’t because he knows you’re not. This is how he feels like he’s with you, the only real support he can give.

He looks at himself in the mirror, his tired eyes staring back at him. He wants to tell that guy to fuck off, for some reason. He wants to scoff at him and offer him no sympathy. Jungkook wants to raise his hands to that man’s throat and squeeze. He wants to swear at him and curse him. His mouth twists and his eyes grow teary and he sighs. Because all he can do is cry for him.

His head snaps up when the bathroom counter vibrates from his phone. Someone’s texted.

Unknown Number

Its me

Buzz.

Unknown Number

We need to talk

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkooks fics #Kim Namjoon #Kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #Kim taehyung #our time chapter 7

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hollisxwrites · 4 months

Note

Hiii!!! I was wondering if you could do a Percy x Reader, where it’s a friends to lovers kind of thing, they have kind of a childish relationship, and they confess their feelings towards each other when Percy gets a bit jealous of the reader and Grover being close? If not that’s 100% okay! And either way I hope you have a good day or night xx🤍

our goat man friend did the underwater jig

percy jackson x fem reader

word count: 1.6k maybe?

authors note: GUYS. i love you all. thank you for supporting me and my work, I have 3k notes now, and 70 followers. i owe this all to you, and i am so proud of the work that i have done so far. i think this is the most unserious fic i have written; i wrote this at one am, but i think it's cute and fluffy and silly. i hope you guys enjoy my dancing goat man that i love so much! also, so sorry if this is not exactly what you were looking for, anon, i just kind of took a silly idea and ran with it lol.

warnings: jealous percy!, curse words, a fish, this is so silly.

Percy Jackson was my best friend in the entire world, but he was also someone that I love more than my life itself. Ever since we met one faithful day in June, my first day of so-called summer camp, we became inseparable. The son of Poseidon was beautiful, to say the least, and he was endearing. Everyone in Camp loved him, which made everyone in Camp love me, as we were pretty much joined at the hip. Starting when we were thirteen, we would spend the night in his cabin together since we were both plagued by vivid nightmares that left us both restless. It started off as just sharing his cabin, but then it came to sharing a bed, and eventually, us holding each other for maximum nightmare prevention. We also trained together, more and more often the older we got, and we even broke the rules and ate every meal with each other. The young campers, once we turned seventeen and were seen as the ‘cool, older campers’ thought we were dating, and one of them went as far to say that we were married. I could see where someone young would assume that, but none of the older campers said anything…to our faces. I heard the rumors, but I chose to ignore them, Percy and I were just friends. We teased each other, of course, and made sex jokes to each other all of the time, but we were just friends, sadly.

I was in love with the Percy Jackson. He was everything I could ever want, but I blocked out my feeling in order to salvage our friendship that I held so dear. That didn’t stop me, however, from thinking about kissing him every time we laid in his bed together, every time his hand brushed against mine, and every time we spared, and he pinned me to the ground. We spent every single day together, and so, of course, his friends became my friends, and that includes his best friend, Grover.

Though Percy was always going to be my best friend, my home, I was quite the sociable person, and so I enjoyed spending time with everyone. Grover was hilarious, in a quiet way, and he kept me on my toes and my wit in tip top shape. I slowly began to start spending almost as much time with Grover as I did Percy, and nine times out of ten, Percy would tag along, making us a happy little trio that most definitely got along. This specific day, we were spending time at Percy’s favorite place on the Campgrounds, the lake.

I was chasing after Grover and Percy who had taken off spiriting through the woods after they heard some rustling in the trees that they thought was a monster, or even worse, Clarisse, but it just ended up being a cute little bunny. “Guys!” I panted out. “Wait up, please!”

Percy looked behind himself and at me. He gave me one of his award-winning smirks and said, “just run faster, bitch!”

Grover snorted rather unattractively at that, but the joke didn’t stop him from slowing his pace to let me catch up to him. “Don’t want you to get lost.” Grover winked, making me laugh at his comedic gesture.

“Stop flirting and hurry up, don’t want anyone to have the same idea as us!” Percy, from about thirty feet away, yelled, a sour tone in his voice.

“Ew, we are not flirting, Perc!” I yelled back, in an equally disgusted tone.

Grover rolled his eyes at both of us and lowered his voice just to address me. “When are you going to tell him, girl?” He massaged his temples. “He is goo-goo eyed for you.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Never. I love him, but he doesn’t love me like that.”

Grover nearly groaned in annoyance. “{Reader}, I’m saying this because I am your friend, but you are acting like a dumbass. I have told you he loves you, and you love him, and why don’t you just act on it?”

Grover had been my wingman this entire time, encouraging me to grow some balls and ask the man of my dreams out. It all started this one time where, on a dare, someone asked Percy to kiss me, and he obliged without any protest. Putting two and two together, Grover decided that I liked Percy, and he liked me, and so we needed to date. That was three years ago. Nothing anywhere close to that, except this one time he kissed me on the cheek because…that’s beside the point.

“I will, Grover. I just don’t want to…”

My thought was cut off by us approaching the clearing where the man of the hour, the beautiful, Perseus Jackson stood, his arms crossed, and cheeks flushed from overexertion. “Took you guys soon enough! Let’s swim!”

Percy tossed his orange t-shirt aside and it took everything in my power not to stare. He was just too stunning. I followed suit, pulling off my athletic shorts and matching orange Camp shirt to reveal a deep blue swimsuit that I think showed off figure that I had acquired from training.

I dove in the water after Percy, and he scooped me into his freckled arms. “I like the swimsuit.” He said with a sheepish smile on his face.

“Thank you, Perc.” I said, my face flushed, but I pretended it was from the bright sun that was baking us.

Our moment was interrupted by Grover cannonballing right into the middle of our little bubble of unconfessed feelings, sending a tidal wave of water over Percy and I.

I wiped the water from my eyes when all of the sudden, Percy pushed me under the water. In the moment, I started to panic, a little bit, because I couldn’t breathe, but all of the sudden, I could. Percy was protecting me. My initial thought was, poor Grover, we’re abandoning him, but then my second thought was, holy shit, I’m underwater alone, in a bubble, with Percy fucking Jackson.

Percy smiled at me and hurried me along when we were finally able to touch the floor of the lake. I could see Grovers little goat feet treading water from above us, and it made both me and Percy giggle a little bit. Percy finally stopped pushing me along in his little bubble when we reached a beautiful cove of water lilies. I smiled at the boy in front of me, and he smiled back, a little awkwardly.

“Soooo…{Reader}.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. I giggled awkwardly. “Percy.”

“I see you and Grover have gotten…closer.” His eyes were unreadable, and I had no idea where this was going.

“He’s a twenty-something year old goat man who I see as more of a father figure than anything else, Percy. I am a seventeen-year-old demigod who has no father figure in her life. We may have gotten closer, but it’s nothing like that.” I said, a matter-of-fact tone in my voice.

Percy looked embarrassed at this, probably thinking about how he didn’t really think his accusation through. “That’s very true.” His eyes avoided meeting mine, and he seemed suddenly very interested in a fish swimming by me.

“Why do you care?” I asked, genuinely wondering. Percy shrugged at this, not confessing his real reason for dragging to the bottom of a dam lake. “Look at me, Perc, why do you care?”

His eyes finally met mine. “Because you’re mine, and I don’t want someone else to look at you the way I want to.”

I was…flabbergasted…to say the least. I was not expecting that. “Of course, I am yours, but to what extent? We can’t keep dancing around each other, waiting for someone to finally break the tension surrounding us.”

At this, Percy pulled us closer together, our faces inches apart. “This tension?”

My breath faltered. “This exactly.”

Percy let us linger on the feeling of closeness without pressing our lips together. Our eyes met, and our noses nearly touched, but neither of us took the next step. I could feel him breathing, and I was sure he could feel me, and the electric energy of love sparking between that I was sure the fishes around us could feel it. “Kiss me, asshole.” I mumbled against his lips, and his next movement made my head spin.

The kiss was…magical. I was unable to think of anything, not even how to breathe. Percy’s lips were everywhere and nowhere all at once, and my hands found his hair almost by instinct. Before things could get a little too far, both of us looked up and almost had a heart attack. Grover was right above us doing a little jig in the water, holding his nose, trying not to inhale water.

“What the fuck, Grover!” Percy exclaimed, laughing hysterically, his hands still around my waist. Grover floated back up to the surface, probably going back up for air, and Percy and I smiled at each other, laughter seizing our bodies.

We paddled back up to the surface. “Grover, I will slaughter you.” I said, the huge smile on my face telling him that my threat was empty.

“I win a bet! I win a bet!” Grover sang, doing his little jig on the beach now. “I am so glad I do not have to listen to you guys pine over each other anymore!”

I gasped and looked at Percy who froze beside me. “You pined over me?”

“That’s a story for another day.” Percy said, stifling back a laugh.

The rest of the day was bliss, my new boyfriend and annoying, jigging goat friend by my side, making that day a day that I would always remember.

#percy jackson #percy jackson show #percy jackson fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #luke castellan x you #pjo series #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #grover underwood

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palms-upturned · 1 year

Text

I can’t stop thinking about the ZA/UM people who defended the company after it came out that Kurvitz and co were fired like “well disco elysium was a collaborative effort, don’t buy into auteur theory.” Like. First of all what an INCREDIBLE cop out. Second of all elysium was always a collaborative effort, it was a ttrpg setting that Kurvitz made with his friends and had been developing since they were fucking teenagers. And ZA/UM kicked out ALL of those original members who created it together so like. Lol.

But also it just makes me sad bc it’s true that I think the amount of time it took and the collaborative nature of the work influenced disco a lot. There’s such a stark difference between the tone of disco vs the tone of Kurvitz’s novel. Shivers saying “you can keep me on this earth. Stay vigilant. I love you.” The phasmid begging you to please not blink and let the world go. The way that the story had to shrink and shrink for the format until it was localized in Martinaise and the way that zooming in on this small portion of the world they created, all these small people with small lives, made it all the more life affirming bc it turns out to be the small things that make life worth living at all. Egg saying “lonely as I am, I’m not afraid.” The phasmid saying “you are the miracle.” The swallow in the church being kept at bay by a dance club. Like… over all those years of effort and collaborating with other people I think maybe it seems like the og ZA/UM members started feeling a different type of way about things, just a little. Only for all that work and all of those experiences to get stolen out from under them like some kind of cruel joke. It’s sad and infuriating.

Like. Yeah, it’s a collaboration. These guys invited other people into their childhood sandbox to play around with them, and then even invited the whole world in. And then they got kicked out of the sandbox and are no longer allowed to be part of this collaboration. It’s fucked up. Fuck ZA/UM

#disco elysium #meg talks #im just feeling really sad today.

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asdfghjklmals · 1 year

Text

BLAME GAME✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. daddy joke. WORD COUNT: 0.9k words. TAGS: boyfriend!gojo, satoru gojo x fem!oc. established couple. adoptedkiddo! megumi makes a small appearance.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend tries to play a prank on satoru, but he slips up and gets himself in trouble instead... AUTHOR'S NOTE: lol i saw a funny reel of this girl pranking her boyfriend and i got inspired. also used something from the jjk short stories. 😉 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“satoru gojo!” you bellowed from the bedroom.

you heard his feet promptly shuffling to your room as your white-haired boyfriend peaked his head through the bedroom door. you repeated his name again.

“satoru gojo!”

“uh? yeah? that's me...” he stared at you, concerned and confused, walking slowly to the foot of your king sized bed.

“come here.” you said with no emotion in your face, using your index finger to lure him towards you. it took all of you to not burst out laughing in his face. it was amusing to see the soft and bewildered look on his face. he was really such an attentive boyfriend who loved you silly and he was truly worried.

“why are you calling me by my—wait, you never use my government name. we go by babe, baby, sweet cheeks, honey, and sometimes daddy in this household!” he stomped his feet jokingly, trying not to laugh because he couldn’t tell if this was a dangerous situation and if he needed to tread lightly. your lips twitched as you also tried not to laugh either or your cover would be blown.

“satoru, honey.” you said more calmly, but with a hint of danger in your tone. god, you deserved an emmy award for your acting.

satoru was going through all the events that happened today in his head, trying to figure out what he did wrong along the way. “we went shopping today, i made you your morning coffee perfectly may i add, i took out the trash, megumi did the laundry, and i didn't leave my socks around the apartment… so why are you using my government name like that?!”

“what do you think it is?” you questioned him.

“i literally have no clue. you should be having a good sunday so far and i was enjoying my day until you used my full name instead of baby. i haven’t even done anything yet!” satoru defended himself, scratching the back of his head. he was out of back up plans, it was time to resort to an emergency measure. kisses. lots of kisses.

he swiftly made his way over to your side of the bed and sat down next to your side, he grinned at you and tried to sneak a kiss on your cheek but you stopped him just shy of your face. his lips hit your palm instead. “you know what you did.”

“babe, what did i do? just tell me and i promise i’ll make everything right again,” he whispered as he kissed your ear. you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise as you shuddered. he stared at you with piercing azure eyes, his sunglasses sliding down his nose bridge.

“why are you whispering?” you started giggling.

satoru gojo was a smart and calculated man (most days), but today, he was really at a loss. “why are you laughing?” he demanded to know.

“i saw the funniest video of a girl doing this exact thing to her boyfriend and you had the same reaction as him.” you kept giggling after explaining. your bright smile made your green eyes disappear, crows feet wrinkle, and your pearly whites glisten.

as much as satoru could melt by watching you laugh, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “i really thought you were upset with me! you never use my full name unless i’m in trouble with you. i thought my ass was going to be sleeping on the couch tonight for sure. my neck already started to hurt thinking about it.” he dramatized as he massaged the back of his neck, but it wouldn’t be satoru gojo without the theatrics.

“i had to go through all the things in my head that would’ve upset you like not taking out the garbage, leaving my socks around the house, fighting with megumi, not putting down the toilet seat after peeing cause of that one time you fell in, not separating the white and dark laundry colors, or even when the kids and i were at the maid cafe last wee—”

and that’s when satoru gojo saw his life flash before his eyes. he covered his mouth quickly with his free hand, his eyes wide open in terror. you glared into his panicked blue eyes.

“satoru gojo! you went where?! and you took megumi too?!” this time, there was no acting in your tone.

EXTRA:

“come on, megumi, pick up the damn phone. don’t forget that i pay for your phone bill.” satoru gritted through his teeth. he had just received a 20 minute lecture on how megumi and yuji didn’t need to be in a maid cafe and that he didn’t have any business being there either. it was actually an honest accident that they ended up there. the kids followed him into the maid cafe where he was scoping out an abandoned building where some curses were lingering across the street. he wanted to use the building as his afternoon lesson with his students.

“what do you want?” the younger fushiguro picked up, annoyance in his tone of voice.

“well, that’s not a polite way of answering the phone that your guardian pays the cell phone bill for.” satoru quipped.

“it’s always something with you, gojo-sensei,” megumi sighed. 10 years of putting up with satoru gojo did that to people. megumi wondered how you dealt with him. you deserved a nobel peace prize in his eyes.

“well, (y/n) found out about the maid cafe,”

“and you’re in trouble with the boss. cool, i’ll see you at home la—”

“no, no. not just me, we are in trouble.”

“it was your stupid idea to go there! who the hell scopes out an abandoned building at a freakin’ maid cafe?” megumi couldn’t believe that he was being dragged into a punishment too. last time he got in trouble, you took away his kindle that you and satoru had gotten him for christmas last year.

the white haired sorcerer pulled a picture out from his wallet. it was a picture of megumi and yuji from the maid cafe. satoru cunningly suggested a scapegoat, “how do we somehow put the blame on yuji?”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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likedovesinthewindd · 1 year

Note

I have a request

So Ash is alive but Fez is in jail

So like Fez and the Reader have been dating for awhile like they're high school sweethearts (even tho he's a drop out) and before he got arrested she got pregnant.

Could you write how that looks. Like phone calls, and letters, and visits, but also write when he gets out and he gets to finally see his kid

hi love! ty for requesting🩷 idk if you wanted a little blurb but you got this big ass fic lmao, sorry i got carried away! also in this custer was never killed at Fez's house so he only got charged with drug possession and given like one or two years because he's a first time offender (i think?) ik it's all over the place but i hope you like it;)

fezco x pregnant!reader

warning: mentions of drugs/drug abuse, murder, jail, pregnancy, throwing up, giving birth, infant care, Fez's dad is mentioned once, religious imagery/mentions of praying, lots of crying.

wc: ± 4530

a/n: this is so similar to my other fez fic but also not at all lol. I tried changing it up as much as possible but there are def a lot of similarities I'm sorry. not proofread!

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

You and Fez met back when he was still in school, just before he had dropped out. He sat next to you in History and the two of you would only talk briefly, often just about things like what the date was or when the next period would be. He would occasionally crack a joke or make a lighthearted comment that would always catch you off guard.

He was a normally stoic and calm person; he didn't talk much and kept to himself most of the time. This made you appreciate the rare jokes and little bursts of personality even more. You quickly found yourself talking more and more with him, and he'd start greeting you when you passed each other in the hallways. You had considered him somewhat of a friend after a while. Maybe not the closest, but you valued the little time you two would spend together.

Then he started showing up to class less and less, and rumors had begun spreading around. A few weeks before he dropped out, he had asked you if he could copy your notes that he had missed while absent, and you agreed. He told you to drop them off at the convenience store his grandmother owned, because that's where he spent most of his afternoons.

You did this every time he didn't show up to class; you'd write him all the notes neatly and bring them to him at the store, and in return he'd let you take whatever you want from the shelves free of charge. You always took the same thing (a can of Sprite, a packet of Sun Chips and a pack of cherry flavored twizzlers), and after a while he had started keeping the three items at the counter, ready for you to grab when you came around. One day he asked you if you'd like to stay a while before heading home, and you spent your afternoons sitting on the roof of the convenience store eating your treats and talking about whatever came to mind.

You never asked him why he wasn't at school, or even asked yourself why you'd go through all this trouble for him. Maybe it was because you've always been way too nice for your own good, or maybe because you had a little crush on him. One day when you were on your way to give him the day's notes, he'd told you he was dropping out. When you asked why, he only replied with, "Have to take care of my grandma."

You didn't stop visiting him after he left school, and would go to the store every other afternoon, quietly doing your homework by the counter while he restocked the shelves. He never explicitly told you, but he enjoyed having you around. You never asked too many questions and you were always nice to him. He would say maybe too nice to count as just being friendly.

As time passed the two of you grew closer and closer. You had met his brother Ash and occasionally helped him with his grandmother, who you had only met briefly before she became ill, when you were making your rounds to drop of his notes.

A few months later he had asked you out, and you said yes. You haven't looked back since.

That was years ago, and this was now. Now, you were sitting on the lid of the toilet in the dead of night with a pregnancy test clasped tightly in your right hand, while the other covered your mouth in shock. The two red lines stared back at you tauntingly as you felt your head spin with anxiety.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with Fez's baby and you had no idea how you were going to tell him. You finished up, washing your hands and face and made your way to the bedroom you and your boyfriend shared. You hid the test in the drawer you kept your underwear in and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to return home.

He arrived eventually, but you couldn't find the strength in you to tell him. You knew you had to eventually, you couldn't possibly keep this a secret for too long, but you were terrified. You had no idea what his reaction would be, and you feared the worst.

The night you finally did get the courage to tell him, was the same night he decided to almost kill Nate at a New Year's Eve Party. Your plan had been derailed once again and that night you found yourself sitting in the bathroom while you silently cleaned the cuts on his hands. You knew you couldn't tell him then, he was still on edge and filled with adrenaline from everything that had transpired. He was definitely not in the correct headspace for a revelation like that.

Everything after that night was an absolutely downward spiral.

With Faye moving in, Mouse getting killed in your house and ultimately Fez getting arrested after Custer had ratted him out, you found yourself at your wits end. He had been arrested and taken away right before your eyes, and you felt completely helpless as you watched him get dragged out of the now ruined house, with a distraught Ash clinging to you like a lifeline.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez was only given three years for drug possession with the intent to sell, considering he was a first-time offender. Three years may not have been much considering it could have been a much heavier sentence, but your stomach still churned at the thought that he would be away for that long. What about Ash and Marie? What about the store?

What about the baby?

You couldn't do this. It felt like the world was suddenly dropped on your shoulders as you watched the officers drag Fez out the court, and away from you.

You shot up from the uncomfy wooden bench and made your way to the closest bathroom, where you threw up the little food you managed to keep down this morning. When you finished you flushed the toilet and made your way to the sink to clean up. As you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror, everything struck you at once like cold water being thrown in your face.

You were going to be alone. Alone and pregnant, having to look after Ash (who God willing, they don't take away from you) and his grandmother. You hadn't even realized you were crying until your reflection became blurry and your breathing erratic.

You went back home that evening, with a dreadful feeling deep in the pit of your stomach for what the future holds.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez had finally been approved for calls, and after not hearing anything from him in weeks you were ecstatic to finally hear his voice.

You had received a call from the jail where he was, following all the necessary steps and pressing all the necessary buttons before you got to talk with him. When you heard his voice say your name you had to stop yourself from breaking down right beside the telephone. It hadn't even been a month and you already missed him more than words could describe.

He said your name again in a questioning tone and you realized that you hadn't said anything in return.

"Fez?" was all you could force from wobbly lips as your grip on the phone tightened. "Yeah baby, it's me," he said quietly. "I miss you," you said trying your hardest not to sob. Gosh, you couldn't even think about asking him how he was doing, you just wanted him to know how much you needed him right now.

"I miss you too baby, so fucking much," he replied, "how are things going that side?" You inhaled sharply before answering. "I don't know," you answered truthfully, "I'm still trying to figure everything out right now. But okay I guess."

He hummed. "What about Ashtray, he around? Can I talk to him?" he asked. "Of course," you said before calling out to Ash, who was over the moon when he finally got to speak to his brother after so long. You saw him smile for the first time in months, and you were overjoyed at the sight.

When they were finished catching up he handed you the phone. "You still there?" you asked. "Yeah baby, but I only got like a minute left. Listen I'll call you back as soon as I can again okay?" he said. "Okay, goodnight. I love you so muh, Fez," you rushed out. "I love you too baby, so mu—"

He was cut off by the ending call and you placed the receiver of the telephone back on the wall.

☆˚｡⋆

You didn't know how to tell Fez you were pregnant over the phone, so you settled with writing him a letter. You told him how you were pregnant, and that you were planning on keeping the baby. A part of you already knew you were keeping the baby the moment you stared at the test in your hand. The thought of being pregnant now absolutely terrified you, but recently you had found yourself fantasizing about what the little one would look like.

Would it be a little girl or a boy? Would she have your nose, or your eyes? What would her soft hair feel like under your fingertips? What would her first word be?

You hadn't even realized you were already referring to the baby as "she". That was what made you realize you were already deadset on keeping the baby, whether Fez wanted to be apart of that or not, even though it pained you to think that way.

You nervously sealed the letter and sent it off, hoping for the best. Fez had called you the same day he received the letter.

"Hi Fez," you answered nervously.

"You bein' serious Y/N?" You knew exactly what he was referring to, so you took a deep breath before answering him. "Yes, I'm being serious," you said quietly. You could hear him sigh and curse under his breath before he spoke up louder. "How long you known?"

"From before the raid. But, before you say anything, I did want to tell you on New Years, but that shit with Nate happened and everything after that was a total shitshow," you breathed, "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier."

"Shit, it's alright ma I ain't mad, jus' a bit shocked," was all he said. There was a short silence between the two of you before he spoke up again. "I'm gonna be a dad?" he asked softly. "Yeah..." you said, waiting for anything to indicate how he felt about this. "I'm so sorry I can't be there wit' you for this," he said. That broke your heart. He wanted to there, wanted to be a father and the thought made your heart fill with joy.

"It's okay, we can't help the circumstances," you said. "Listen, I promise you imma be here wit you every step of the way, okay? Maybe not physically, but I want you to keep me updated on everthing alright?" he said. "Okay, I promise I will," you breathed, a smile stretching across your face. "Imma do right by you, baby, I promise. You ain't doin' this on your own."

You were sure your heart was going to explode. You were going to have a baby with Fez. The circumstances were the farthest from ideal, but you were hopeful that you were going to be able to do this. You were going to do this. For yourself, for Fez and Ash and for your baby.

☆˚｡⋆

The pregnancy was anything but easy, and it was even harder without Fez by your side. It helped that he showed his support in any way he could, like always calling and sending letters, checking up on you to stay updated with the condition of your baby. You were roughly at 3 or 4 months and by now the little bump was already visible.

Telling Ash was one of the things you were the most nervous about. You didn't know how he'd feel about a baby being bought into your living situation. You had sat him down and got straight to the point. When the words first left your mouth, his face twisted into an unreadable expression. He seemed to be mulling it over silently, before a small smile stretched across your face and he replied shyly with, "So I'm gonna like, be an uncle?"

☆˚｡⋆

The letters you frequently wrote Fez were on of the only things he looked forward to. He loved reading them, reading about how you were doing and everything that was happening with your body and with the baby growing inside you. It sometimes fet like he got to experience the pregnancy right there beside you, with the way he could clearly indicate your mood swings even in your writing.

The letter would quickly go from I saw an old couple sitting by the old park benches today and I broke down in tears to The guy at the drive-thru told me I couldn't order 'just pickels'. Imagine saying no to a starving pregnant lady!

When he received the letter with a small black and white attached to it, he nearly cried. The little ultrasound picture didn't look like much, you could barely make out the big white blob in the middle as a baby, an actual human being. He turned the picture around and saw that you had written our baby! in your messy handwriting, with a little heart at the end. That was all he needed to actually start crying.

That night he couldn't fall asleep at all. His mind was filled with a million thoughts that were consuming him. What if something happens to her or the baby while I'm in here? Will she be able to cope on her own? What's she gonna do once the baby is born?

What if I'm not a good father?

That's what was eating at him more than anything else. He didn't want to be like his own father, and his worst fear was eventually ending up like him, no matter how hard he tried not to. He didn't want his kid to hate him, he wanted to be the best dad he could be, because he already knew that you were going to be the absolutely best mother any child could ask for. He knew because he saw the way you cared for Ash, like he was your own little brother. He also knew that you had a big heart. When you loved, you loved with everything in you, so he didn't have an inkling of doubt about you being a good mother.

That was the night he had promised himself that he would be the best father that he could be for your child and that he'd give them the love and support he never received from his dad.

☆˚｡⋆

By now you had finally been approved for your first visit, and you were over the moon. The first time you visited you went alone, and when Fez saw you walking into the cold room, a slight waddle to your step and a cute little bump sticking out from your pretty pink sundress and cardigan, he swears he had fell in love with you all over again. You looked so beautiful, he thought, maybe more beautiful than you've ever been.

Maybe it was the pregnancy glow people would always refer to, or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen you in months, but he couldn't get the dopey smile off his face as you made your way to the table where he sat.

You were permitted to a brief embrace and kiss at the beginning and end of each visit, and when he wrapped his arms around you for the first time in months, and got to inhale the smell of your almost unfamiliar perfume, he didn't ever want to let you go ever again. His grip on you tightened a little bit and you had to will away the tears threatening to spill over your cheeks when you felt his warmth consume your body. It felt like home being back in his strong arms.

"You're gonna squish the baby," you said playfully, placing a kiss on his shirt over his heart. You honestly didn't mind at all; you'd let him hold you like this forever if you could. You eventually broke away when you saw the guard giving you a unhappy look from the corner of your eye. You sat down on the cold metal bench and he found his seat accross from you.

You so badly wanted to hold his hand while you talked to him. You wanted to sit next to him and feel the warmth of his body radiating off him and bury your face into his neck and hold onto him for dear life, but you couldn't.

"Y'know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" he asked. You absent-mindedly tapped your manicured nails against the metal table that separated you two, until the guard had given you a stern look from behind Fez, by now irritated by the repetitive sound. You retracted your hands, placing them in your lap and shaking your head. "No, I'm finding out at the next appointment," you smiled, "do you still have the photos I sent you?"

You were referring to the ultrasound photos as you had sent him in letters from all your appointments. "Of course I do," he smiled, "keep 'em in my cell, under my pillow." You smiled, looking down at your belly and softly running your hand over it.

"I think it's gonna be a girl," you said softly, as if it was some secret only the two of you had the right to know. "Nah, it's a boy," he replied and you rolled your eyes playfully, which made him laugh. "Of course you think it's a boy," you joked. He shrugged "I'm still gonna love 'em whether they a boy or a girl," he said, before adding, "but it's gonna be a boy."

You rolled your eyes at him once again, this time more dramatically, and rubbed at your belly. "I just know it's going to be a little girl," you said, and when you looked up from your belly your eyes met Fez's. They were filled with an immeasurable amount of admiration and love, and you couldn't help but shy away from the attention.

"If it's a girl, I hope she look like you."

☆˚｡⋆

The last few weeks of your pregnancy you had asked your mother to stay with you until it was time to go and give birth. By now your belly was fully formed and perfectly rounded, and you were waddling around the house like a lost penguin. Everything was hurting, from your feet to your back and pregnancy brain was truly kicking your ass. As much as you loved the beauty of pregnancy, you couldn't wait to finally get this over with.

You were on the phone with Fez when you had first felt it, the liquid running down your legs followed by a slight cramp in your abdomen. At first you were scared that you had peed yourself (your bladder had been your number one enemy recently) but it didn't take long to realize what was happening.

Without even sparing Fez another word you hung up and called for your mother. This was it, you were finally going meet your baby.

Ash was shitting bricks as he paced around the house while you and your mother gathered everything to head to the hospital. Soon enough you found yourself in the hospital, with your arms leaning on the bed trying to control your breathing. The pain felt like nothing you've ever felt before, and at some point you thought you were going to pass out.

A little while later and you had started to dilate. After what felt like a lifetime of mindless pushing and incoherent shouts, the screaming of your baby girl filled your ears. You looked next to you, to your mother who was still holding onto your hand tightly while her other hand pushed the hair out of your sweaty face. You were beyond grateful to have her with you, but your heart yearned to have Fez with you for this moment. When you got to hold your baby in your arms you cried like a crazy person. She was so beautiful, and your heart was already filled with abundant love for her.

☆˚｡⋆

You've had baby Eden at home for almost two weeks, when you finally got a call from Fez.

"How'd it go baby? Is she healthy? Are you okay?" he had asked as soon as he heard your voice greeting him. You pressed the phone tighter between your ear and your shoulder. "She's as healthy as can be, and she's beautiful, Fez," you said happily, as you rocked the baby in your arms to sleep. "You gonna send me a picture of her?" he asked.

"I already have a few taken, I just have to get them printed then I'll send them to you," you smiled, "she's so beautiful, Fez." You knew it was a little biased, but she truly was the most beautiful baby you'd ever seen. Her pretty long eyelashes that rested on her chubby cheeks and the pretty pink lips that would sometimes streatch into a toothless smile, or her cute button nose that would scrunch up when she yawned or sneezed. Everything about her was so absolutely perfect.

"I can't wait to see yall ma," he whispered. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. "Me neither," you replied with a sad smile.

☆˚｡⋆

He had no doubt when you told him that Eden was a beautiful baby, but when Fez got to see a picture of her for the first time, all the air was knocked out his lungs.

That was his baby. His baby girl, wrapped tightly in a fluffy pink blanket and a little cap to match. He couldn't stop looking at the picture, his thoughts going at a hundred miles per hour. Fez hadn't seen a lot of babies in his life, but he was one thousand percent certain that Eden was the most beautiful baby he'd ever layed his cynical eyes on.

He couldn't remember the last time he prayed, but that night Fez found himself closing his eyes and praying. He prayed that you and your baby were kept safe, he prayed that his baby girl would stay healthy and happy, and he prayed for the patience to diligently serve his sentence, counting down the days till he got to hold you both.

☆˚｡⋆

You sat in shock as you read the contents of the letter over and over and over.

Fez was going to be released from jail earlier for good behavior. He was coming home, to you, to Ash and his friends and to his baby. He was going to meet his daughter.

Ever since giving birth you hadn't brought Eden along with you when visiting Fez. She was still very young, and you didn't want her driving the long distances back and forth. This unfortunately meant that Fez hadn't got to meet his daughter yet. That was changing soon though.

☆˚｡⋆

You were pacing back and forth in the house, waiting for Fez to come knocking at your door. Today was the day Fez was coming home, back to his family, back to you.

He had to go through several release preparations, then pre-release custody and then supervision. After he complete those steps he had a full release from the BOP system, and they arranged transportation for him to come back home.

He had asked you to not tell anyone about him coming home, he didn't want people bothering him and wanted to spend his first night in just the company of the people he loved the most. You had kept to your word and not told a soul, not even Ash, who you knew would soon be jumping out of his skin when he gets to see his brother.

You had Eden in your arms, gently rocking her back and forth to soothe her. She was a little cranky because she didn't get her afternoon nap in, and when she finally dozed off, you went to go place her in the small crib next to your bed.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other nervously, before checking that everything was good. The food was cooked, the house cleaned and the bed covered in clean sheets.

The hard knock on the door almost made you drop the pie you had taken out of the oven. It was custard pie, his favorite. You removed your oven mits and sprinted to the door.

When you opened it, there stood Fez with a small smile on his face. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close to you as possible. He was here. He was back home with you finally and you got to hold him for as long as your heart desired.

By now you were sobbing into his neck, beyond relieved and happy to finally have him home. When you broke away he looked down at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Hi," he breathed. "Hi," you replied through a half sob half laugh. "You're home." "I'm home."

Ash had cried when he saw his brother standing in the living room awkwardly, and wrapped his arms around him tightly, almost as if he was scared of losing him once again. Once everyone had settled down somewhat, you decided to ask Fez the big question.

"Do you wanna see her?"

☆˚｡⋆

The room was dead silent as you pushed open the door and made your way inside, Fez following soon after. You could see the anxiety written on his face, evident in the slight tremble of his hands. This was a very big deal to him. He was going to meet his daughter for the very first time.

You made your way over to the crib, standing next to it and urging him to do the same. He warily moved closer to the crib, looked over the edge and down to where the little girl layed peacefully assleep. He could see the small rise and fall of her chest as she breath rhythmically, and the way her two small fists layed clenched tightly next to her body. If he listened closely enough he could hear her breathing, and the soft cooing sounds in between.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" you asked quietly, and he only nodded, not once lifting his gaze. "Would you like to hold her?" This made him look up at you. A part of him wanted to say no. He didn't want to hold something as precious as her in his hands. Hands that have done shameful and awful things, much too tainted to handle something as fragile and irreplaceable as her.

"It's okay, Fez," you said, sensing his hesitation, before reaching into the crib to pick her up gently. When she was secured in your grasp, you turned your body to him and he hesitantly reached out to take her from you.

Once she was in his arms the small tears began to fall from his eyes. You rubbed his back comfortingly as you watched him closely.

Nothing that Fez had ever achieved in his life measured even closely to this moment. No amount of money or fortune would make him trade this. This was it. This was him, being home and being able to be with you, with his family.

His grandmother had taught him the importance of family and looking out for each other. She taught him that the family he'd have would be the people he was willing to die for, and as he stood in the quiet room, his daughter in his arms and you by his side, he knew that he had found his family.

He looked over to you, and when his eyes met yours he saw the contented look on your face, behind all the happy tears.

"She looks like you," he smiled.

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